The obnoxiously loud bass of a song I didn’t know the words to faded to a more acceptable din as I escaped Pinkie Pie’s living room and into the crowded hallway. Bumbling my way through the hall whilst muttering half baked apologies to the people in my way, I finally managed to find some space to myself in the kitchen, nearer the back of the house.
My eyes were immediately drawn to the kitchen counter, which was furnished with a smattering of half finished bottles of spirits and various other drinks. There was a scattering of snacks and soft drinks too, but it was the bottles that had me captivated. Shaking my head, I scowled down at the cola in my plastic cup and silently cursed my inability to drink and have fun with the rest of my friends.
The night hadn’t started off so bad. It was Pinkie Pie’s 21st, so she’d invited me and the girls to her house for what she called a “small get together”. In hindsight, I should of known better than to take that crazy whores word on it, as by the time I arrived the place was absolutely heaving with people, much more then the “just us girls” we were promised. Anyway, like I said before, it wasn’t bad to begin with. I’d mostly stuck to the dance floor practically glued to Applejack, not really trusting myself to be left to my own devices.
I love Pinkie Pie, I really do, but sometimes she makes me want to strangle her. She throws these crazy bash’s all the time, and most of the time I feel like I can’t even enjoy myself because of my previous... habits.
I’m six months sober. Big whoop right? I’m no longer geared up every weekend, no longer drinking in the morning and showing up to places blackout drunk. I’ve even started exercising again, and I’m building myself up to running 10 kilometre races, like I did back in school. It’s been one of, if not the hardest thing I’ve ever done, dragging myself through a detox from all the crap I’ve put into my body over the years. I guess I’m lucky I managed to make it stick this time.
I’d had a few false starts before, where I’d tried quitting everything, going full cold turkey, only to go crawling back not days or weeks later. It’s been like this for as long as I can remember, constantly fighting the urge to regress on my old ways, and constantly feeling crap for it.
I guess that’s why that whisky looks so good right now.
It’s just there! It’s sitting there near the kettle, towards the back of the counter. I can even see from here there’s almost there quarters of the bottle left. That’d be more than enough, right? One whiskey shot would get me buzzed, one would be enough to mask this feeling, at least for a while.
I instinctively reached for the bottle, but stopped myself just short, knowing full well what would happen if I took that damned bottle in my hand. One shot would lead to me necking the whole thing, and that would eventually lead to me getting my hands on some gear, and I’d be right back where I started. My hands twitched slightly at my side, my mind clawing desperately against the idea and the reality.
I glanced around the room subtly, dropping my stupid plastic cup with its hateful cola in the bin behind me. I moved awkwardly across the kitchen, answering the call of that sexy bottle, just sitting there all alone. My limbs didn’t seem to quite work as I reached for the bottle, my movements a little exaggerated and my heart racing as I clasped my fingers around it’s smooth cold surface.
It felt solid. It felt good, having something to hold on to. I quickly cast my eyes around the small room, making sure no one saw me pocket the bottle in the inside of my jacket as I turned around. The room was mostly empty, save for me and a few others that I didn’t recognise. I wrapped my jacket close around me, reassured by the familiar shape of the whisky nestled against my body as I headed to the door and slipped outside.
The cool night air embraced me like an old friend, and felt relatively refreshing compared to the pounding bass and muggy heat of the house. The thumping dance tracks were a dulled background noise for me, and I took a deep breath of relief as I followed the narrow path along the side of the house towards the back garden.
I’d always liked Pinkie Pie’s back garden when we were kids, mostly because of how big it was. Sure, it didn’t have a scratch on Applejacks orchards for sheer size, but we could at least have a decent game of football here compared to my square foot which had the cheek to call itself a back yard. There was only a few other people out here, and they were all huddled by the door smoking, which was fine by me. They wouldn’t notice me slipping past, meaning I could find a quiet spot to enjoy my drink.
I trapsed across the slightly yellowing grass, taking my jacket off and laying it down on the ground on a small rise near the back of the garden. There was a small tree against the tall wooden fence, a silver birch I think. I flopped down on the grass, retrieving the stolen bottle from my jacket pocket as I did. I flicked my eyes up towards the house, double checking there was no one looking at me before I slowly unscrewed the cap. I brought the bottle up to my nose, breathing in the oh so familiar scent as a smile washed across my face.
The bottle felt smooth and cold against my skin, flooding my hand with it’s soothing coolness. I closed my eyes and brought the lip of the bottle to my lips, the faintest traces of whisky delicately teasing my taste buds as I tilted it upwards.
“You know...” A loud voice rang out in front of me, stopping me dead in my tracks as my eyes snapped open. “If you were gonna start drinking, you should of started a lot earlier than now”.
I blinked slowly as my hand slowly lifted the whisky away from my waiting lips, a feeling of anger welling up inside me as I stared up dumbly at my best friend.
“Fuck off AJ” I growled as I screwed the cap on tightly and secured it safely in jacket once again, as if hiding it from view would make any difference. “How’d you know I was here, don’t you have anything better to do?”. I cringed internally at the words leaving my mouth, even as my glare hardened and my face twisted into a scowl.
Applejack lowered herself to the ground next to me and lay down flat on her back, brushing her long blond hair away from her face before replying. “It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see you were struggling back there sugarcube” She spoke softly, gently rubbing my shoulder as I mindlessly lowered myself to be laying down next to her. “I noticed you slipping out when we were dancing, figured this is where you’d be”.
I didn’t reply. The anger that had risen so suddenly in my chest had just as quickly disappeared, and I wasn’t sure what was there to replace it with. With a deep sigh I slipped my hand into my jacket and retrieved the whisky, sitting up to toss it halfway across the garden and away from my reaches.
“Fine, you win” I muttered as I settled down next to her again, groaning internally as I felt the beginnings of tears forming in my eyes. We lay there in silence for a while, AJ not speaking as I fought a losing battle to hold back my tears. I hated crying in front of anyone, but especially my friends. I was meant to be the strong one. I was meant to be the one that was always cool and on top of it, not the one sat crying in the garden because she can’t control herself.
I held my tears as long as I could, but eventually it was too much. “You bloody win” I muttered again as I buried my face in Applejacks shoulder, allowing my tears to run freely against the safe confines of her shirt. She wrapped her arm around my shoulder while I bawled like a idiot, whispering words I could only half make out as I carried on weeping.
I had stopped my crying long before I finally peeled my face away from her shoulder, the colder air feeling good against my flushed face.
“I’m proud of you Dash, you know that right?” Applejack spoke, catching me a little off guard after that long stretch of silence, punctuated by my crying. I scoffed in reply, my mind unable to formulate any sort of response that would make sense.
“I’m sorry for making your shirt wet” I mumbled out, feeling pretty embarrassed about the wet patch I’d left on what was a very nice shirt.
“Don’t you worry about that ok?” Applejack fired back, sitting up beside me again and wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “It’s not important”.
I smiled and blushed a little in embarrassment, as I still wasn’t used to ‘mushy’ stuff and ‘Applejack’ being even remotely related. I smiled slightly as she leant her head against my shoulders, finding myself feeling calmer than before as we sat in companionable silence. The party carried on inside, and I nodded my head slightly as a song I recognised began to play.
“I’m glad I have you” I spoke quietly, darting my eyes back and forth out of nervous habit as I continued. “Thanks for, you know... stopping me from ruining everything like usual”.
Applejack smiled at me softly and squeezed my shoulder. “You know, you don’t have to do this alone you know?” She began, continuing again when I turned to face her. “This isn’t something you should go through alone, and I... I don’t want you to be alone anymore”.
Applejack stopped talking and drew back slightly, her face obscured by the pale shadows cast by the house.
“You’ve been so strong to get to this point Rainbow, it isn’t worth losing all that hard work and progress for 3 hours at a party” Applejack spoke sincerely, her words cutting through my outwardly portrayed thick exterior like a knife through butter. I nodded my head stiffly in reply, sniffling slightly as she carried on.
“If you ever feel like you want to drink, or if you just need someone to talk to, tell me, ok?” Applejack asked, taking my hand in her own and holding it tightly. “I... We all care about you”. I stared down at our interlocked hands, then back up at Applejack’s face. She looked stunning in the silver moonlight, though I didn’t have the courage to tell her how I truly thought. She returned my gesture, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and waist as we held each other close.
“I will” I whispered over her shoulder as I held her tight. “I promise”.
