Freshman Fantasy

by Alwaysthatoneguy

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Equestria Girls, Science Fiction, Sunset Shimmer, Random, Twilight Sparkle (EqG), Alternate Universe, Narcotics
Length: 2905

Twilight's out of coffee. She has work to do and staying up so late failing to finish it leaves her with just a few hours before her deadline. A trip to the store seems in order.

Twilight Sparkle (no not quite the princess) awakes panicking in a coffin of papers both crumpled and neat. Exhausted from filing numerous lab reports and reviewing various experiments' data, she completely spaced out submitting an essay on acoustic levitation, and she can't find it anywhere! No matter, she's Twilight Sparkle; she'll just rewrite the thing! After all, she has most of the notes!

What she doesn't have is the energy.

Coffee can't help either because she used the last of her stocked grounds working 'til sunrise, so she decides to stroll down to a super-close convenience store and make things conform to schedule.

However, her old crush from her freshman year in high school, Sunset Shimmer (no not quite the Equestrian), is there to greet her with an inordinately-annoyed attitude.

Published 2021-07-22 01:40:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-07-22 01:40:00 UTC

Twilight's Statue

"Huh? Ack!" Twilight yelped upon sliding off her office desk, waking during the fall, and crashing inelegantly onto a stack of papers she had just organized hours ago. Springing to her feet, she swept frantic glances around her whilst wiping a small bead of drool from the corner of her mouth. "Yuck. Are you kidding me?"

Surrounding her was one of the grandest messes she ever produced; papers, many of which were crumpled -- some by intent, others by negligence -- littered every filing cabinet, bin, or spare surface, her office chair was knocked over (courtesy of her unanticipated awakening), and two drawers laid on the floor with only a small fraction of the files, lab reports, and charts contained within prior.

Glancing to her also-paper-adorned -- though somewhat neater -- desk where an empty purple mug sat by a keyboard in front of an active computer monitor, she groaned, "Aaand you fell asleep. Way to go, Sparkle."

'Master Klutz' was a title she bore with shame since her middle school days, and days where she tripped and scattered documents across her office by clumsily choosing drawer handles to catch her falling self only cemented how accurate the designation was.

This'll take me all day to clean, she whined inside as she reverticalized her chair and sank into it. Fatigue compelled her to yawn and stare, unfocused, into her monitor for a minute before she actually processed what was displayed; her name, the title, 'Large-Scale, Inexpensive Acoustic Levitation,' and the date weeks prior stared back at her ... followed by a long, large array of white pixels unbroken by a single word. My essay! I got so caught up being mad at myself and cleaning that I forgot about typing it up until I was ready to pass out!

One swift motion at her computer told her it was half passed nine. Meaning, if she wanted to submit the paper on time -- something she'd been so sure she would accomplish in between a myriad of other experiments -- she had three and a half hours to do so.

No problem.

Alas, it was a problem. Well, it wouldn't have been, but, as she looked to and fro her computer and papers around her desk, she found printed charts, hand-made charts, and notes of both kinds as well -- relating to her essay -- laying about. However, nowhere were her handwritten drafts of the essay she'd made walking from lab to lab and waiting for new results or scans to finish.

Panic set in. Where is it? Where, where, where!

She looked at every page on her desk, yanking straight any which needed it, and found nothing like what she sought: several stapled-together pages saturated by tight writing.

After she looked under her keyboard, and her mug, she took a deep breath and realized how much she was freaking out for no reason. Encircling her were thousands of pages. Surely, if I push a few around, I'll find it. It can't be far, right?

Notes of disbelief at her self assurance played within her faster and faster as she paced around the office, grabbing and discarding page after page, rushing more with every step.

Of course, it didn't turn up. She quit after going around the room thrice, stubbing her toe on her drawer, stumbling (barely avoiding landing on the drawer), and crashing forehead first to the floor. "Ow! Ugh!" she cried before muttering, "You are seriously going to hurt yourself if you don't calm down." Then, after rolling onto her back, she pushed herself up with her hand against the drawer and returned defeated to her seat.

Whatever, she concluded with a deep breath, you have more than three hours and you've got a lot of the notes. Just rewrite it! It's not the first time you've crammed a big project into an hour or two. Probably won't be the last, either. Resolved to tapping away for the next few hours, she stretched her arms, craned her neck from side to side to feel a couple satisfying cracks, and sifted through what data she had as she rested a hand on the keys. Then, with a sharp huff, she stared at the screen.

... for ten minutes without doing anything. In fact, she placed her elbow on the desk to rest her head on her palm and fall asleep for another ten minutes. The only reason she awoke so soon was her arm losing rigidity and her head snapping down a few centimeters.

"Ack!" she yelped again before jumping to her feet. Terror induced a gasp as she discovered the clock struck ten. Coffee. I need to get a coffee, she decided while swiping her mug from her desk and leaving her office.

Stepping out, though, brought her eyes a stabbing sensation; her office had a window but its curtains were pulled as there was nothing to see in the dead of night, so she was not prepared for the mercilessly-accosting brightness of the sunlit, white-tiled hallway beyond her opaque office door and walls. It's too sunny. I just want to go back to sleep.

Regardless, she padded down the hall to a break room in which a coffee machine, among other things irrelevant to her goal, awaited her atop a counter beneath a row of cabinets. Are you kidding? She lamented upon discovering the cabinets devoid of coffee grounds.

I cleaned us out? Well, I could reuse a batch of grounds; the coffee would be a little watered down but I'll get some effect. Much to her dismay, the coffee machine had no wet filter or coffee grounds within, and a quick look at the only garbage receptacle in the room displayed an empty container with a new bag lining it. Darn cleaners. If you feel like cleaning, I think I know a place!

Twilight fell onto a forearm against the counter and let out a yawn which became a groan. In order to get coffee, she would have to go outside.

Not that she disliked the outside. Nature was the most fascinating, serene, and thought-provoking thing to her. However, talking to people, putting her work down, dealing with all the uncertainties of an uncontrolled environment ... Sometimes it was fun, but it was more often just difficult. Doing it on the precipice of fainting, though ... didn't indicate preferable results.

Despite annoyances, she returned to her office, threw some of the papers around (not like she was making her job any harder than it already was) until she located a black satchel, and began leaving the building.

Each step down the hallway was a little more sluggish and made her despise her office's position in the building's layout a little more; opposite her door was one of the building's sides -- comprised mostly of glass -- but what she disliked was the fact that her office was almost in the very center of that side. Hence, to arrive at stairs and leave, she had to walk farther than anybody else who employed a room down that corridor.

Still, she thought walking was healthy and did more of it than she needed to enjoy what she thought was the coolest thing about working where she did. Turning left out of her office let her pass an octagonal, steel door with various smooth, black panels to its right and a diagonal slit where two plates separated to allow entry; it was an airlock designed to maintain the atmosphere of the main laboratory beyond and decontaminate personnel before entering, and it made Twilight feel like a character in a science-fiction story whenever she went through it.

Maybe she would've gawked at it, being alone for the moment, for a little while as it seemed extra cool with sunlight making it shine, but she was tired and every second she wasn't moving was another she lost toward writing her essay and securing college credit.

Gawking could wait. Besides, she would get to walk through that airlock again soon enough.

Walking down the corridor, ambling down concrete stairs, and proceeding through the building's first floor, Twilight reached the front door and was met by resistance resulting from an electric lock.

"Miss Sparkle," sounded the flat voice of Cherry Jubilee, working reception in the morning and evening almost every day behind a glass booth, from Twilight's left. "Work overnight again?"

Fantastic, you're stopping me again. Do you have nothing better to do? Twilight grimaced before turning to face the girl and answering fast to get things over with, "Yeah, there's tons to be done and I don't have enough time. Can you let me out so I can get back and stay on schedule, please?"

Jubilee rolled her eyes but pushed a button, producing a soft buzzing noise, nonetheless. "Sure, sure. You know, it's not healthy to work so much; you could seriously hurt yourself."

"It's not work if you love it!" Twilight called as she pushed through the front door.

Dragging her feet down a street's sidewalk toward a convenience store a block away, the sun beating torrid radiation upon her, and her muscles begging for rest did little to help Twilight enjoy the beauty of plentiful greenery, communal gardens, and few buildings around. Most days, she rejoiced in living and working in a place with just the right combination of rural and urban minutiae, but today life was marred by work and fatigue. Nothing short of a long sleep could rejuvenate her.

However, two police cars speeding by from behind could, and did, startle her into moving a little faster.

What's the hurry for? Twilight's curiosity was stirred but not piqued by any means. Retrieving coffee and completing her essay were the only things her mind tolerated concentrating on at that moment. Of course, that didn't mean she didn't notice, as she turned onto the street the store she sought was situated, more police cars than normal parked along the roads.

Spotting her destination, Twilight ignored them and entered without a second thought.

First, she appreciated cooler air. Second, she noted an advertisement-decorated counter to her immediate left where a cash register lacking a clerk stood. Third, she surveyed a square layout with many shelves on the walls and stands with aisles taking up extraneous floor space to display goods, and, fourth, she meandered around, reading signs, to locate coffee -- gleeful almost nobody else was around.

What she was not prepared for, though, was the scent of exactly what she was there to procure the ingredient to create. Off to her right and behind a massive, stocked stand was a counter where fresh-brewed coffee called her to spend more money on one cup of something she could make 30 times more of at a similar price.

Be strong, Sparkle. You aren't that tired.

Resisting temptation wasn't easy, but she accomplished it regardless and located her goal without further delay. When she arrived back at the counter, to her delight, the clerk had returned.

He was a middle-aged man Twilight was certain was the store's owner and sole employee; it was a miracle and a pleasant convenience that he managed running the place by himself, for Twilight would've needed to drive several blocks from the lab to be on time if he wasn't there.

While being rung up, she jumped some upon hearing a groan behind her. Maybe it was her fatigue, but she hadn't realized someone was there until noise was made. What she saw upon turning made her freeze.

Sunset Shimmer, the same girl Twilight crushed on during middle and high school (until Sunset was expelled), stood before her every bit as beautiful and intimidating as she remembered -- even more so; Sunset sported what appeared the same leather jacket and boots Twilight remembered, but they were somewhat scuffed in spots and the jacket had a collar with studs -- some round, others tapered -- which made Twilight's breath catch in her throat. Sunset herself reflected that worn, unapproachable quality, for her hair was matted, nowhere near as vibrant as Twilight recalled, her right cheek had a big splotch of char on it, and her lips twisted in a deep, jaw-grit frown directed straight at Twilight.

Though, Twilight didn't find it ugly -- quite the opposite, in fact. From her position, she could even smell a modicum of ashy fragrance accentuating Sunset's weathered look. She's just so rugged and tough looking, but so pretty at the same time. How does anyone do that, anyway? Part of her wanted to run to avoid the menacing-yet-gorgeous figure in front of her, but she encouraged herself, relax. You're over that now. Sure, it took a few months, but she's not so attractive you need to act like you used to. Stay calm and find words if you have to.

Looking into Sunset's eyes, despite irritation within them (and feeling the impatient-seeming girl could floor her to make her beg mercy at a speed measurable only in Planck seconds), Twilight noted a confidence in capability which made her question her encouragement and stand stiffer.

"That'll be 5.85, Ma'am." The clerk saved Twilight from her disarmed state for a moment.

Nervousness and fear, however, still quavered her, "R-right," as she turned to the counter and started digging into her satchel without thinking about what she was doing beyond trying to seem unfazed.

"Oh my- for fuck's sake," Sunset growled after a moment of the pretend searching, pushed Twilight with a long step to the counter, and slammed a ten dollar bill on the surface in tense, seething anger. Twilight stepped out of the way without hesitation; angry people were to be avoided and there was no way in Hell she was ticking off Sunset anymore than she already was. "Ring me two ... things of Tops while Slow over here figures out how to use her fingers, please."

What should I do? What should I say? Say something this time! Twilight fished around her mind for language as memories struck her. Her daze was so intense, she heard but did not process the conversation happening at the counter before her. Rather, she stood there, next to Sunset, like prey praying a predator wouldn't attack.

"First, you just cut in line. Second, I need to see an ID for that, Ma'am." the clerk informed with a sour tone.

Sunset was ready with the requested card and assured, "Trust me: I didn't cut in line; I just saved us both ten minutes of her fumbling around. Just- Ugh, I'll pay for both. Don't even worry about the ten cents change or whatever. I just wanna get out of here. For ... " After a deep sigh and Sunset seeming to contain a scream, the clerk nodded, scanned the ID, and gave Sunset her order. Another sigh preceded Sunset turning to step right next to Twilight and glare.

Gulping, Twilight was snapped out of her daze and sent right into another one by the proximity. She stumbled back, teetered on one foot, and exhaled relief at maintaining balance -- failing to stifle a blush.

"Master Fucking Klutz in- fucking -deed. Fucking ... Grbah son of a shifflgrst- Ugh ... still a fuckin' pushover." Sunset grumbled before stomping out of the store with a loud shove of the door.

Still, Twilight, uncaring that she had never given Sunset any reason to think differently of her, was lagging behind, and not just because of fatigue anymore. She was just so close! That's the closest I've ever gotten! My God, she smells like campfire but she's so tall, so commanding, and so pretty all at the same time. Why do you have to be so angry with me, Sunset? Say something already, clear things up, Twilight! Before she- Shaking her daze away, Twilight lamented realizing that she was too late and had naught yet to say. I'm still such a coward. She beat herself up inside. Ugh, why do I have to be such a nervous wreck all the time!

"I'm sorry." she looked to the clerk and apologized while bringing her hands to rub her temples. Why do I even care? I'm over her now. Am I, though? I mean, I never thought I'd see her again, but ...

"No worries," he forgave before asking, "Old bully?"

With that, Twilight remembered dreaming of having Sunset scoop her up bridal style and spin them around. As her blush deepened at the memory, the clerk's mouth made an 'O'. "S-s-something like that." It's too late, anyway. What would I do? Chase after her? Right, what could spur me to something so impulsive? Twilight moved on. "Anyway, that was ... distracting. How much did you say-"

"Um ... " The clerk gave her an incredulous face. "Your angry, uh ... she paid for you."

"What?"

Author's Note

I may have done this intoxicated. Did I edit it intoxicated or decide to publish it as such? Uh ... I dunno on either accounts, so I must assume that that's a yes. Anyway, I have a bunch of the rest ready to go and I couldn't work on the Well ... Je Ne Sais Pas story, so I worked on this. I dunno if anyone likes this but I figured I'd check. If you wanna see me work on this (it helps me organize other stories) then lemme know. Until next time! Peace!