I
“I love this song!” Silverstream screamed.
Gallus hated this song. Obnoxious music blared through speakers that were probably way too expensive. His stomach grumbled sickly from the vibrations. The colorful lights that swooped around the room made him want to gouge his eyes out. His head hurt. There were too many ponies. His throat was parched. He needed to—
Gallus let out a long exhale of air. When he opened his eyes again, he was still there. Obnoxious music still played, obnoxious lights still danced around the room, and obnoxious ponies still clustered the gymnasium. Standing behind the catering table felt like a barricade. A faux-barricade that stood between him and social interaction. He sat there quietly, sipping on punch too tart and waiting for it to all be over. Eventually, he heard Silverstream yell something, and his head jerked up.
Silverstream busted a move on the dance floor. One, singular move. He wanted to walk up and explain that twirling her head around again, again, and again didn’t exactly qualify as “epic,” but he would have to endure the crowd to do that.
So, he just watched. After a minute of nonsensical head-twirling, she skipped over to the table and snagged a fruit kabob to munch on.
Gallus got closer and leaned toward her over the food. “You look like you’re having fun.”
Silverstream opened her eyes. “What?” she yelled.
“I said you look like you’re having fun!” He raised the cup to his beak and took a sip.
“Fun!?” She pumped her arms into the air. “I’m having a blast! We never have parties like this in Seaquestria!”
Gallus pulled the cup away and licked away the dapple from his upper beak. “You don’t have parties?’
“I said we don’t have parties like this!” She gestured out toward the crowd. “We have parties!”
“Huh, can’t have much fun in an ocean, I guess.”
“Oh, there’s plenty to do! Just a bunch of electric stuff underwater is a big no-no, and we don’t have lights this frilly, or awesome sounding noise boxes.” She looked down at her claws and clutched them shut, then reopened them. “Or talons.”
She swiped two more fruit kabobs and stuck them in her mouth. “Or food this good!” she mumbled with her beak full.
The feathers around Gallus’s neck stuck out as something sharp pierced his back. He twisted around in time to catch Smolder retracting her claw, giggling.
He scowled. “What the fuck was that for?”
“What?” Smolder leaned into him.
Gallus sighed, hoping that the frown on his face would be enough to set her off. It did nothing to the dragoness. She was impenetrable. “I said, what the fuck was that for?”
“You took too long to notice I was there, so I let you know. Also…” She pointed to the cup he was holding. “That your first cup?”
“I would appreciate it if you don’t stab me in the back, thanks.”
“Ah, fuck off, crybaby. Is that your first cup or nah?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I spiked the punch.”
Gallus’s eyes widened, and he stared down at his drink. Then he took another sip.
Smolder laughed, spilling some of her drink onto herself. When she brought her head back up, he saw that her cheeks were a little flustered. “How much did you have?” he asked.
Smolder clapped his shoulder. “Enough to think yer sexy!”
Gallus placed his talon over her claw and pushed it away. It dangled loosely to her side like a broken pendulum. “Yeah, I think you’ve had enough.”
“Pffft, I’m barely on my third! I’m fine.”
“Maybe, but school staff is everywhere tonight. They’re going to find out—”
“They ain’t gonna find nothin’!” Smolder got into his face, nostrils flared. Gallus pulled his head back, unsure of how to react to the sudden display of aggression.
And then she licked his beak.
“Gross!” he yelled, wiping away her spit. Some of his drink spilled onto the floor. “Does dragon spit always smell that bad? Go brush your teeth.”
Smolder giggled. “You left yourself wide open.”
“Hey Smolder,” Silverstream said, pulling both toothpicks out of her mouth and pointing them in her direction. “You’re acting a little fun!”
“Really?” Smolder kept giggling. “I like to think I’m funnier than that.”
Gallus rolled his eyes. “She spiked the punch.”
Silverstream tilted her head and looked past Gallus and toward the punch bowl at the center of the catering table. “Spike’s not in the punch.”
“Hilarious,” he deadpanned. “No, she’s—”
“Living the high life, baby!” Smolder interrupted. She held her drink over the hors d’oeuvres, out toward Silverstream. “You should try it.”
Silverstream reached out in preparation to take the offer, but Gallus placed a claw over the cup. “Let’s not ruin her innocence yet.”
Smolder scoffed. “Oh, come on! I know you still wanna bang her. This might give the two of you the pep to get down to flavor town.”
Gallus groaned while Silverstream grew silent. They glanced at each other, then back at Smolder.
“Okay,” he blurted. “Why don’t we go for a walk, hm? Away from the teachers?”
Smolder smirked, her eyebrows doing a little wiggle.
“Not like that.”
“Babe, you never talk dirty to me anymore!”
Gallus drank the rest of the fruity cocktail, then slammed it down against the table. He speed-walked past Smolder, wrapping his tail around her wrist and yanking her along with him.
“Whoa, watch it! I almost spilled my punch!”
“You can have plenty more to drink when we’re out of sight from the teachers.”
Smolder lifted her cup higher into the air to avoid hitting a pony, but a small wave lapped over the brim and splashed onto their head. “You just want to see where I’m hoarding my booze!”
“Yeah, and?”
“I’m cool with that.”
Gallus brushed some stupidly-colored streamers aside, and they left the gymnasium. The hallway was practically empty, aside from a couple of ponies over by the karaoke abhorrently singing along to a Countess Coloratura song.
The vice in his chest loosened. His head stopped spinning. The sick feeling in his stomach began to settle.
Smolder slipped and uprighted herself quickly before she could fall, but some of her drink spilled onto her forearm. “Oh, shit! Now it’s half-full… half-empty? Gallus, what do you call it?” No answer. “Gal Pal?”
Gallus breathed an annoyed sigh. “What?”
“Half-empty or half-full?”
“Half-empty.”
“But why?”
He rolled his eyes. “Drinking a drink leaves it empty. Filling a cup is when it’s half-full.”
“We will file your answer for later use. Thank you for complying. Your mom’s a hoe.”
Gallus shook his head, and they continued onward.
II
“Where is it?” Gallus said.
He turned to Smolder, who stared into her cup. “Where do you think babies come from?”
“Hey, I asked you a question.”
“Hm?” She lifted her head.
“Where’s the alcohol?”
“Oh.” She gesticulated toward her side of the room. “It’s under the bed. I keep all sorts of junk there.”
By “all sorts of junk,” she might as well have meant her entire hoard.
He pulled out all sorts of seemingly pointless items, like a lava lamp half-full. Heck, some of the stuff clearly wasn't hers, like a bundle of Hearth's Warming Lights Silverstream wrapped around her body for Nightmare Night when she tried to imitate a Hearth's Warming Tree. He also found his old wallet. This sort of aggravated him, although he didn't say anything. He supposed that it didn't matter since he already bought a new one.
Eventually, Gallus found a liter of vodka and hovered it over his face. 3P, Perpetuate, Prevail, Please Everyone, 80% Proof. Just the thing he needed to feel more social.
“Hey, I found it!”
“Cool.” Smolder walked past him, toward the record player sitting on her nightstand. Her claws danced along several vinyl sleeves standing in a milk crate. “Can you put everything back? I’m already tipsy. I don’t wanna go trippy.”
He snorted. “You’re gonna wake up face down either way.”
She smacked him in the back of his head with her tail. “Just do it, dumbass.”
He was stuffing the bundle of Hearth’s Warming lights back beneath the bed when his eyes glossed over something oddly familiar: a box. Okay, well most boxes were very familiar, but this one had a specific familiarity to it. So familiar, that he was sure he'd seen it at least once.
Gallus had to dig his shoulder in to reach it. He pulled it out and sat up. It was painted orange in broad, careless strokes. Glitter was sprinkled on the lid to add pizzazz, but that was the only sense of creativity he could see. Written across the lid in large, splotchy letters was Smolder.
“Hey, I think I have one of these!”
Smolder slid a vinyl disc out of its sleeve and pivoted her head back toward the griffon. “Oh, that. Yeah, we made those in first year. Friendship Boxes, I think they were called.”
She laid the vinyl over the turntable and gently placed the stylus against its surface. The record spun, filling the room with music.
III
Change your heart
Look around you
Change your heart…
“It will astound you…” Smolder whispered along to the lyrics as she padded across the room. She plopped down onto her bed, and Gallus joined her. He sat the box down between them and was about to remove the lid when Smolder rattled the ice in her cup.
She pointed to the liter of vodka still sitting on the floor. “I want dat.”
Gallus wrapped his tail around the bottle’s neck and held it up toward her. She took it, unscrewed the lid, and poured a generous slosh. Smolder’s version of generous meant—
“It’s overflowing,” Gallus pointed out.
“Shut up, I know what you’re gonna say. I don’t have a problem! You have a problem!”
Gallus rolled his eyes and swiped the bottle out of the dragon’s claw. “Hey!” she shouted.
He upturned the bottle and took a large swig. It burned the back of his throat and tasted like a wet shirt, but it made his stomach feel warm, and he could already feel the effects of the punch he drank kicking in. If this is what he had to look forward to, then he would gladly keep tasting the wet shirt juice.
He screwed the cap back on and placed the bottle next to him on the bed. It rolled down the crater he made and rested against his haunches. He turned his attention back toward the box. There were all sorts of knick-knacks inside, the idea of the project being that each of their closest friends would put in one item that would always remind that creature of them.
He reached in and pulled out a packet of Mr & Mrs. Cake’s Homemade Hot Chocolate Mix. Smolder snapped her claws. “Hey, I remember that! That one was from Yona. She was a little jittery that day, for some reason.”
Gallus smirked. “Yeah, I remember her putting one in mine as well. She looked ready to explode.”
He plopped it back in and reached inside, pulling out a single bit. He held it up to his face, staring at his reflection on the golden surface. “What’s this?”
Smolder took a swig, then wiped her mouth with the back of her claw. “You don’t remember?”
“No.”
“You left that. You looked like you didn’t want to, but you said that you wanted me to have it. I never spent it, mostly because of my hoarding habits. But I thought you’d appreciate it if I kept it around.”
“Oh,” he said. “Cool.”
He stared at it for a moment too long.
“You can take it back if ya want.”
“Nah.” He dropped it back into the box, albeit hesitantly. “It was meant for you. Wouldn’t be right to take it.”
Next, he picked up a cyan crayon. “Silverstream,” Smolder said after another sip. “She was also jittery that day.”
Gallus chuckled. “When is she not?”
Smolder burped a hearty laugh and clapped Gallus on the shoulder. He looked down at her claw, annoyed, and swiped it away. “Pffff haha! I remember when she gave me that crayon she gave a moppy monologue about how she could have done better and that she hoped things were still good between us.”
“Heh, she did that to me on Hearts and Hooves Day. What did you tell her?”
“I told her that I loved it because it was an awesome gift from an awesome friend.” She spun the bottom of her cup around lightly and watched the remaining ice go in circles. “I think all gifts are cool. Mostly because I just like owning shit.”
He dropped the crayon back in. “You’re a lot more open when you’ve had a few drinks.”
“Am I really?” She stopped spinning the bottom of her cup around, the circling ice slowing. “Huh.”
Picking the vodka back up, he unscrewed the cap and took two large swigs. He was starting to enjoy the taste.
“Let’s see… a mood bracelet. I got one of those from Ocellus. A button… who put a button in here—dumb question, never mind. Sandbar. I think he put an O&O figurine in mine.” He brushed the items aside and got down to the bottom, which was covered in photographs. “What’s this? I don’t remember this being part of the project.”
“Oh that’s—” Smolder blushed and sheepishly took another sip, averting her eyes. “I threw that in there myself… I wanted something a little more than fancy knick-knacks.”
Gallus pulled out one of the pictures and recognized it instantly. It was of Smolder and Ocellus, engaged in a rhythm dance game, excited looks on their faces. Yona was in the background grooving to the beat. Silverstream hovered behind Smolder, mouth agape. It looked like she was amazed by the awesomeness of her friends’ dance moves, but Gallus remembered that it was because of the box that flashed pretty colors. Probably because they didn't have flashy boxes in Seaquestria.
Everyone in the photo looked like they were having a good time. Everyone except for Gallus. He wasn’t in the picture.
“Heh, I remember that!” Smolder swiped the picture out of his talon. Gallus frowned, a little annoyed by the suddenness of it but didn’t say anything. “Holy crap, didn’t that happen last year? Time flies, dude…”
“Yeah,” he said. “You guys look like you were having fun.”
Smolder snorted. “Oh, fuck yeah we did! Ocellus beat my high score, and I tried, and I tried to—” she jerked her head back and took another swig "—and I tried to get back at her several times. I never expected someone like her to have such mad skills, but dammit she kicked my ass. We all had a great time…”
She grew quiet. “Well, everyone had a good time except for—”
Gallus sighed and plucked the picture from Smolder’s claw, tossing it back into the box. “Sorry about that. I know it was your birthday, but I can’t stand crowds. Or loud noises… that place was really loud.”
Smolder reached over and patted his paw. “Hey, it’s okay, dude. Not all of us are extroverts. Let’s see more of dem dick pics now!”
He rolled his eyes and reached back into the box. Ocellus, sitting before a birthday cake with chocolate frosting, face basked in an amber glow. Silverstream, Sandbar, Yona, and Smolder were all gathered behind her, faces dim from the candles and mouths open to sing some familiar ritual song.
Smolder cleared her throat. “Ocellus was bummed you didn’t show up that day. Sandbar’s mom took the picture.”
Gallus remained still, eyes locked onto the photo. Finally, after an ensuing silence that went on for a little too long… “Which birthday was this?”
“The second one you missed. Her wish was that you would be there.”
He pulled out another and saw that he wasn’t in it. Neither was he in the next one. Another—not there either. He tossed them onto the floor to keep from finding the same one, and eventually, he did find one that he was in.
It was of him and Smolder. Arms draped over each other’s shoulders, faces cheerful. They held a platter of sugar cubes out toward the camera. Gallus remembered this picture very well. They were tasked with finding a friend and building something that reminded them of their friendship.
He tried Silverstream first since she knew all about the glitz and glamor of sculpting. Unfortunately, Ocellus beat him to the punch. He went to Yona next, and they had gotten halfway through their diorama of a yak smashing a pile of grass (it was the easiest thing he could make while crunching for time) when Yona, inspired by the diorama and filled with aspiration to fulfill Yakyakistanian tradition, had smashed it. Wow, big surprise! He handed her off to Sandbar after that.
Poor guy needed to get laid somehow, Gallus thought.
So that left Smolder. They stayed up all of the final night finishing a model of the Treehouse using sugar cubes. Neither of them knew what they were doing, so the branches fell off almost immediately. In the photo, lying on the fallen brimble of hopeless procrastination was a red ribbon with You Participated! sprawled in gold cursive.
“I still have that, y’know.” Smolder plucked the ribbon from the box and held it out toward Gallus. “Didn’t know what to do with it, so I threw it in here with all the other stuff. Didn’t think about it again until just now. Damn, that project was a blast, wasn’t it?”
Gallus dropped the picture back inside. “Yeah. It was.”
He picked the bottle back up and unscrewed it. Rather than take the standard one-two swig, he upturned it completely and took several mouthfuls, bubbles trailing upward.
“Whoa, hey!” Smolder blurted. “Slow down! I only got the one bottle!”
He came up for air, letting out a gasp that burned with the aftertaste of cheap booze. He didn’t bother to re-screw the lid and placed it on the floor where he could easily reach it with his tail.
“You good?” Smolder asked, eyebrows raised. “Your balls should be shriveling inward after chugging that much.”
“I’m peachy,” Gallus deadpanned. His face burned a little.
“Whatever.” She reached out toward the box and picked it up. Hopping off the bed, she got onto her knees and groggily began putting the pictures back inside. “Wish we had more pics of you.”
The fuck did she mean by that? Was she agitated? She didn’t look like it. He couldn’t tell if she was actually being passive-aggressive or if it was because of his alcohol-induced brain, but… gosh something about it still peeved him off. Maybe it was just that he was the one who was agitated and was trying to project something onto Smolder. He didn’t know. He didn’t care. All he cared about was that look she gave him was super annoying. He clenched his beak in an attempt to hold back his grimace.
“Okay,” he said.
Smolder looked up with the picture of everyone gathered around Ocellus during her birthday in her claw. Was she scowling? “Okay… what?”
He blinked, not sure what to say at first. Then, something came to mind. “And?”
Smolder blinked. “Huh?”
“And? You look pissed.”
“I’m pissfucked—like, drunk I mean. But not pissed.”
Gallus blinked. “You’re pissedwhat?”
“Pissfucked! Silverstream taught me it.”
Gallus blinked again, mostly out of disbelief. Silverstream taught Smolder that?
“Like, she didn’t teach me that word exactly,” Smolder continued. “But she taught me the art of it. You know, the form. She laid down the basis, as they say. Some shit like that. Pissfuck. It means to get shitfaced.”
“So… why not just say shitface?”
“Um, it’s called art dude.”
“Mhm, sure.”
Smolder frowned and went back to stuffing the pictures into the box and replaced the lid, shoving it back under the bed.
Gallus wanted to say something, but he didn’t want to just say anything. He wanted to talk about those pictures. He wanted to talk about why he was annoyed that day at the arcade, and he wanted to talk about why he missed both of Ocellus’s birthdays. He tried to formulate a sentence of some kind in his head, but every time he got close to making one, a barricade would pop up. Words would clash into the blockade, and he would lose them as they toppled into a pitch-black ravine. Then, he would forget what he wanted to talk about. Then, he would remember, and the process would repeat.
Eventually, out of desperation, he tossed a sentence over the barricade. “Tonight's shit, don’t you think?”
Crap. He probably should have thought that one through.
“Huh?” Smolder stood up and tilted her head. “I’m having a blast. What are you on about?”
Gallus’s eyes widened and his throat constricted, his heart beating an irregular rhythm. “Oh, I uh… I was talking about the music. The music they’re playing is shit, don't you think?”
Smolder stared at him for a moment too long. Gallus froze as if he was prey, aware that there was a predator in the area but not sure where. It was an odd feeling. He wanted to talk about the photos, but he didn’t want to talk about tonight. Why?
Smolder broke the stare, and he resumed breathing at a relieved but cautious pace. “Meh,” she said. “It’s alright. I like how loud and bombtastic pony music is.”
Gallus relaxed his shoulders. “Don’t you mean ‘bombastic?’”
Smolder shook her head and picked her cup back up off the nightstand, tilting it toward Gallus as if toasting him. “Bombtastic is my own invention. It’s a combination of bombastic and fantastic. I hate fancy words, so I make up my own sometimes.”
Gallus scowled. “Just say the actual words. No one is gonna take you seriously if you make them up as you go along.”
“Sure I can!” She chugged some vodka and held a claw up matter-of-factly, leaning back a little. “Here’s one: pissshit. It’s like pissfuck, but it’s pissshit. 'I just took a pissshit.' That means you’re upset about something but don’t want to say what. Good dragon lingo.”
His scowl set into stone, and his wings drooped against the bed. His body felt light as the alcohol really started to kick in. “Huh. Pissshit.” It rolled off his tongue. He mumbled it to himself. “Pissshit…”
“Now you’re gettin’ it!”
“Pissshit…” He hopped off the bed, his tail wrapped around the bottle’s neck. “I’m pissshitty. ”
Ocellus sitting alone on her birthday. The crumbled remains of the sugar cube project. Himself standing in the background at the arcade, waiting for it to all be over. Tonight.
“Hey, Smolder.” He turned his back to her.
“Yeah?”
“Am I a bad friend?”
He heard Smolder choke, and he swiveled around in time to witness her having a coughing spurt, vodka dripping from her nostrils. “Ack, wrong pipe!”
Gallus raised a claw in an offer to check on her, but he halted. The barricade in his brain suddenly had a big, gaping hole in it.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Smolder rubbed at her snout with the back of her claw. “I’m kinda occupado at the momento, bro.”
“Can you stop using stupid words long enough to have a decent conversation?”
Smolder froze, covering her snout with her claw. Her arm dropped, lolling to her side. “Huh?”
“You say a lot of stupid things,” he continued. “I can’t take you seriously. Now answer my question.”
She blinked. “Did I… Did I say something?”
“No, just you sounded really stupid just now. You could have said it normally, but you dumbed it down by saying ‘occupado.’ Use actual words.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the realization set in. Her forehead creased, her eyebrows furrowed, and her teeth set into a snarl. “Hey, there’s no reason for you to pull that shit here.” She marched up to Gallus, snout to beak, and crossed her arms. “You have something to spit out then spit it out. Otherwise, leave that shit out of this. You clearly can’t think straight.”
“I have nothing against you. Just like I said, some of the things you say are dumb.”
“Yeah, well what if I like saying dumb stuff? What if I think it’s fun?”
Gallus shrugged. “Do what you want, but I doubt anyone will take you seriously if you use words like ‘occupado’ and ‘momento’ in a conversation.”
“Did I fuck your wife or something? You’re usually not this shitbrained!”
“Yeah, well, you don’t know me very well, then.” Most creatures don’t, part of him wanted to add.
Smolder threw her arms out wide, hardly noticing the vodka spill out of her cup and onto the carpet. “You’re my friend. I know you better than anyone!”
“So, am I a good friend, then?”
Smolder’s head jerked back, but the nasty look stayed on her face. “Y-yeah. I mean, you’re there. You check all the boxes.”
“What boxes?”
“Like, I dunno, you’re cool to talk to?”
He rolled his eyes. “Tell me something that’s true.”
“That is true, shithead! You—”
“I hate talking,” Gallus growled. “If I had the option, I’d never do it again. But I have to, and I suck at it, and maybe if I didn’t suck at it I’d like it a lot more; but outside of you guys I don’t care enough about anyone else to put in the effort to have a decent conversation!”
“I—” She had raised a single claw into the air in preparation to send an accusatory digit his way, but it froze. “What?”
The realization of what he just said set in, and he slapped a claw to his face. Smolder stared back at him in bemusement. “This is exactly the kind of crap I hate to talk about sober. You have no idea what it’s like to be me. Talking to creatures comes so easy to you, but all I can do is stand there, and I’m in agony because everything everyone says is so stupid, and so pointless, and has little to no impact on anything they will ever be!”
Silence. It was expected. Gallus was still capable enough to recognize the weight that it carried, though it was hard for him to identify how heavy that weight was.
“Gallus,” Smolder said in a low voice that almost sounded scary. “I might be pissfucked right now, but I can still see that you should calm the fuck down.”
He groaned and splayed his wings out. “No! You’re not getting what I’m saying!”
“I don’t have to get what you’re saying to know that you’re not in your right mi—holy shit dude, you’re crying!”
Gallus wiped his eyes, although Smolder appeared as nothing else but an orange streak. “So?”
“So? What’s going on with you? I’ve never seen you this worked up!”
“I—” He had the words, but they were lost in the void of his thoughts. Standing in front of Smolder, he suddenly felt dumb. Dumb for letting so much slip out. Dumb for not knowing how to get out of this mess.
The bottle slipped out of his talons, and he hid his face behind both of his claws. “I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.”
He expected to be reprimanded. He expected Smolder to snort and say something like, “Yeah, you dumbass! Stop being a dickhole!” But that didn’t happen.
Instead, Smolder came up to him quietly. The only cue that Gallus had that she was directly in front of him was the subtle shuffling of feet against the carpet. He slid the claws down his face and peaked out over his nails. She stood there, back hunched over, frowning. “Do you have something against us?”
He dropped his talons back down to the floor, his fingers brushing through the soft bristles. He looked at Smolder, but subconsciously his eyes refused to meet hers. “No… no… I have nothing against you guys… it’s other creatures I have an issue with.”
Smolder bent down and sat on the carpet criss-cross applesauce, staring up at Gallus. “Right. So… what’s up? What do you have against everyone?”
“Don’t know. It’s instinct.”
“Like, I get what you mean by ‘instinct…’ I am a hoarder after all. But go into a little more depth.”
He huffed. “Every time I go out I get annoyed by other creatures. I know that I’m an idiot for thinking these things, but some stubborn part of… some stubborn part of…” His train of thought disappeared into the fog. He rubbed his palms against his eyes vigorously and tried to get back on course. “I always get the idea that I’m the only one that knows how things work and everyone else is arrogant… and I know that by itself is arrogant, but I can’t stop it. I really hate people.”
Smolder let out an exaggerated breath. “Whoa. I, uh… I kinda relate to that. I mean, I try to push those thoughts aside, but I definitely know what you’re getting at. I know I can get pretty hotheaded, but you guys are usually there to chill things out.”
He walked around the room, absentmindedly circling it like a lazy susan. “I don’t know what it is, I really don’t. I’ll go out somewhere with you guys, and I’ll instantly think something is shitty, and I’ll get annoyed, and I’ll get annoyed with you guys, and I won’t want to talk to anyone.”
Smolder tilted her head and watched him walk by as he made another full circle around. “What do you mean by ‘you get annoyed with us?'”
“I don’t mean I get annoyed by you guys specifically, I mean I get annoyed by the things you do.”
“So… you get annoyed by us?”
“No, I—”
“What do we do that’s annoying?”
He halted in front of her. Smolder looked at him with an ominous gaze that was a mix between “Haha, gotchu, now spit” and “Seriously, let’s clear the air here and now.”
Gallus simply stared at her and said, “I told you what I found annoying about you. It’s your way of speaking.”
Smolder pressed her lips together, then popped them back open in an obnoxious, puckering way. “Yeah. But the way you described it implies there’s more to it. Do you have something against us?”
“No! I—”
“Why did you break up with Silverstream?”
Silence. Out of all the questions Smolder could have asked, she asked that one? He shot her a gaze that could send a gazelle running. “That has nothing to do with what we’re talking about.”
Smolder simply leaned back and brushed her claws through the plush carpet. “Is it because she’s annoying?”
“No!”
“Then what was it for?”
She waited for Gallus to respond, and when he didn’t she continued. “She was devastated, dude. She had to get a sick note from the nurse because she didn’t want to leave her dorm. Fuck, Counselor Trixie gave me the day off to keep her company! She thinks it’s something she did wrong, and I told her that it wasn’t. There was probably some kind of Gallus reason for doing it, and I didn’t question it. But now I am. Why did you break up with her?”
“Because I didn’t want to be in a relationship. It was too much work.”
“Too much work, huh?” Her expression set back into that same frown from earlier, the one he found annoying. “In what way?”
“It was too much—” he sighed and clenched his eyes shut. “It was too much investment.”
“Too much investment?” She sighed in return and leaned forward, placing her claws in her lap. “So that’s why we don’t get to see you when we want to. Too much investment.’” She spat the words out like they were some kind of gnarly bacteria that she had to get out of her system. “I’m no psychologist, dude, but have you ever tried not being down on yourself all of the fucking time?”
Gallus took a step forward. “It’s not that easy.”
“And hanging out with your friends isn’t?”
“It’s not that easy.” He pictured steam rising from his head as his chest buzzed fervently. His legs buckled, and he really wanted to sit down. He kept on eyeing the door, tempted to leave in an instant.
Smolder crossed her arms. “What’s your deal?”
“Because you guys will be gone eventually!” he blurted. He waited for a response, thinking that if Smolder replied it would give him some leeway into what to say.
She said nothing, so he improvised. “I have nothing in Griffonstone. I was alone. Then I came here. And I had friends. And you guys were—” He stopped himself, somehow gaining one lick of sense to know that that was the wrong choice of words. “Are awesome.
“But we’re about to graduate.” He continued slowly, picking each word carefully and being slightly peeved by the subtle waver. “And I wanna let myself down easy because once we hit those doors and leave all of this behind, everyone is gonna go off to do their own thing, and I’ll be left with nothing again... I’ll grow up to be exactly like Grandpa Gruff—a bitter old buzzard who might bother to help an orphan if he can get a tax credit for it.”
He let out a well-earned breath. “There. Are you happy now? Because I kinda want to kill myself after all that.”
Gallus wanted some kind of understanding. He hoped that Smolder would throw her arms into the air and say something like, “Well, that explains it! Have a nice day!”
But she did the exact opposite.
“That’s stupid. You’re stupid for thinking any of that. How do you know how things will turn out?”
“I just do, okay?”
“Hey, I can’t argue with that. You put up one heck of an argument, pal! Seriously, you’re pissfucked and can’t think clearly. I’m pissfucked, but even I can see that you need to chill the fuck out.”
He huffed. “Fine. You're right.”
“Thank you!”
“You’re not a psychologist. You have no idea how the world works. I do.”
Smolder jolted up and got in Gallus’s face, smoke clouds billowing from her nostrils. “Just because you had a shit childhood doesn’t mean you understand how this stuff is supposed to go down. Fuck, if you wanna become irrelevant that bad then you should just dig your grave right now!”
Gallus didn’t say anything. He blinked at her. Realization set into Smolder’s face and she flinched back. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Too late,” Gallus said. “It came out.”
He turned and walked to the door.
“Hey, where you going dude?” Smolder called. “I didn’t mean it!”
He placed his talon on the door’s handle and pulled it open. “But you said it. It can’t be taken back.”
“But there are teachers out there! You were the one who suggested getting out of sight from them!”
“That was an excuse,” Gallus said and slammed the door shut behind him.
IV
When Gallus made it back to the dance floor, obnoxious ponies still danced the night away, obnoxious music still rattled the gymnasium, and chromatic lights various shades of obnoxious still swooped around the room.
He pushed his way through the crowd, feeling as if the ponies were walls slowly closing in on him. The alcohol in his system helped to dull his panic, but he still had the irking sensation to make it through as fast as possible.
Somehow, he made it. He was out of breath and desperately holding back the urge to lash out at someone. But he made it. He was behind his little barricade again: the catering table.
He didn’t want to be back. Here, in this room. But he shared a dorm with Sandbar, where he and Yona were having an O&O campaign. He was still heated after his argument with Smolder and felt that if he talked to anyone else tonight, other things would slip out that he would never intend to let slip.
Also, the only other source of alcohol in this school was the bowl of punch that Smolder spiked. Well, there was the bottle of wine that Counselor Trixie “sneakily” kept locked away inside of her desk, but he didn’t think he had it in him to pick any locks tonight.
As Gallus dipped the ladle into the fruity cocktail and poured it into his cup, he thought about everything that happened in the room. He tried not to, but every attempt was thwarted by the cringing realization that he was an asshole to Smolder. He felt bad for everything he said… she was just trying to help, after all.
But holy shit she got presumptuous toward the end there. Did she seriously not see the point he was trying to make? Sometimes, Gallus felt like he was the only person in the universe who understood how the world worked… and he also thought that he was stupid for even thinking such a thing; and he thought that Smolder was stupid for thinking she was the only person in the universe who understood how the world worked. And…
Neither of them did. He’d like to say that his idea of logic was vastly superior compared to everyone else’s, but he knew that wasn’t true. Deep down, even while this pissfucked, he understood that he was full of shit and always would be.
Smolder was right. Smolder was also wrong. He was right. He was also wrong. So… what was the right thing to do?
“Oh. My. Gosh, Silverstream is sooo overdramatic!”
Gallus pulled the cup away from his beak and looked over toward a mare in a sky-blue dress. A big purple stain was visible on her chest. Her violet mane was done up in a way that made him think of spaghetti, a huge mound of spaghetti with the center twirled around until it looked like a caldera volcano.
She was talking to two other ponies with equally garish and over-endearing styles. “She spilled punch onto my cocktail dress and ran away crying. Like, who cares? Other creatures exist, you bitch!”
“Augh,” one of the mares groaned and rolled her eyes. She had one of those snouts that wrinkled in an ugly way commonly associated with someone who was an absolute bitch. “She’s so annoying. I had to yell at her the other day during cheer practice when she tried to invent a new cheer.”
“So?” Gallus found himself saying. It slipped out of his mouth quicker than he could think about it.
The trio turned to him, all of their faces wrinkled and bitchy. “What?” the one in the stained cocktail dress asked.
“That’s my friend you’re talking about. I don’t appreciate you calling her a bitch.”
The mare in the stained dress furrowed her brows at him. “Hey, you have nothing to do with this conversation.”
“You mentioned Silverstream. Silverstream’s my friend. I think I have plenty of reasons to butt in.”
The three looked back at Gallus, concern streamed across their faces. He thought for a moment that they wouldn’t say anything, then one of her friends spoke up, “Let’s go. That’s the creep that hangs out in the back of my Biology class.”
Gallus slammed his cup down against the catering table, shaking it enough to where punch lapped out of the bowl and stained the opalescent cloth. The trio flinched.
“Oh,” he said quickly. “And what makes me so creepy, huh?”
“Y-you’re quiet. And you just sit there. It’s… weird.”
“What the fuck else are you supposed to do in class, huh? I’ll tell you what’s weird!” He jabbed a claw at them. “That spaghetti dinner you call a mane.”
The mare in the stained cocktail dress threw a hoof over her mound of hair in offense and scoffed at him. “Whatever, loser. I don’t have to talk to you. Let’s go, girls.”
Gallus watched the trio disappear into the crowd as they shook their heads. He swiped his cup back off the table and chugged.
The nerve of some people! Who was she to judge Silverstream when she barely knew her? Silverstream was a kind and sensitive creature. Sure, she could be annoying sometimes, but if you really got to know her…
Shit. Did he sound like that mare while talking to Smolder? A pathetic piece of shit who is so far up his own ass that he’s incapable of identifying how others see him—that the crap he spews out is entirely hypocritical? He knew his behavior was shitty, but now he wanted to curl up in bed and sleep just so he didn’t have to feel so terrible.
But Sandbar and Yona were probably still running a campaign, so the only other solution was to stick by the punch bowl. Only he didn’t drink any of it.
Gallus stood there, awkwardly holding his cup like a wallflower and occasionally staring down into his drink. He wanted to take a nip, just one, but he also didn’t want to numb any more of his thoughts. Because maybe thinking wasn’t so bad. It hurt, yeah, but maybe it would help with… something.
Time became seamless. His alcohol-addled mind processed everything at a speedier pace. The frilly lights became a little more endearing, and the ponies around him were suddenly less obnoxious. Mostly because he didn’t pay attention to any of it. He became engrossed in his thoughts, transfixed on everything that had happened. Eventually, a familiar raspy voice broke him out of this state.
“There you are!”
Gallus jolted back to reality. Smolder stood beside him, palms planted on her hips and staring at him with a look that said, “I want to claw your eyes out but only because I love you.”
“I want to claw your eyes out but only because I love you, dude,” she said. “What the fuck happened back there?”
He sighed and lowered his head. “Look, Smolder, I’m sorry about what happened. I got emotional.”
“Yeah, no kidding. I shouldn’t have irked you on like that. But come on, did you really have to leave?”
He huffed. “No. I didn’t. I was pissed…”
Smolder quirked her brows and leaned into him. “And so you came here?” She swayed an arm out toward the crowd of ponies. “Don’t you hate everyone here?”
“Well, no.”
“But you said you did.”
“I said I hate people.”
“I don’t see the fluke in what I said.”
Scowling, he shook his head with a huff, then fixated on the floor. “Look, this is the only other place in the school to get booze. And also…” He grew quiet as he thought about the best way to word his next sentence. “I was kinda hoping you would stop by.”
Smolder’s eyebrows shot up, and she reared her head back and tilted it. “Um, why?”
He shrugged. “I’m tired of hanging out in the background, I guess. I thought I’d wait for one of you to stop by and we can, I don’t know… do stuff?”
She squinted at him and scanned his face. From Gallus’s perspective, it looked as if she was trying to corkscrew a hole into his skull to peep inside of his brain. “You’re just saying this crap because you drank all of my vodka. How about I take you back to your dorm?”
He smirked. “And do what?”
Smolder slapped him upside the head. “Only I can crack the sex jokes. It’s creepy when you do it.”
Gallus raised a talon to his forehead and rubbed the spot that she slapped. “Oh, so now you’re imposing double standards?”
“If you wanna talk about double standards I have a second claw I can slap you with.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time.”
She slapped him with her other claw.
Gallus rubbed the other side of his forehead, chuckling. Smolder didn’t chuckle, but she smiled back at him. Then, Gallus’s chuckling became contagious, and she joined in. They laughed for a few seconds, then stopped. But Gallus thought the sudden silence was pretty funny, and he continued. Smolder joined in.
They back-and-forthed like this for at least a minute. Finally, Gallus was able to say something between breaths. “I… I think… I should try with you guys more.”
Smolder stopped laughing and stared at him. He stopped with her, but the stupid grin remained stretched across his face. “You mean it, dude?”
He considered it for a moment. It would take effort. There was a good possibility that he would back down on his word. But the mere acknowledgment that he had to do something was enough to comfort him. “Yeah. I should be there for you guys. I might be drunk, and I might be uncomfortable with having told you this when I wake up tomorrow, but I think telling you will get me to try. I don’t know. It’s instinct.”
Then, Smolder did something that wasn’t a very Smolder-thing to do: she hugged him. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly, snuggling her face beside his.
“I love you, dude.” She pulled her head back, and Gallus thought he could see a bit of moisture in her eyes. “No homo.”
“Yeah, uh…” he mumbled, rubbing a talon along the back of his head. “You too.”
“You gotta say no homo or else it’s gay.”
“Oh, sorry. No homo… erotic.”
“You’re a creep and degenerate. Also, you should close your eyes real quick.”
This time it was Gallus’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Why?”
“Just do it or no supper.”
He rolled his eyes and closed them. He readied himself for Smolder to pull one of her tricks (probably another slap for shits and giggles) but was surprised to feel something lightly pressed against his forehead.
“Okay, you can open them.”
Gallus blinked his eyes open to see something red dangling over his vision. He reached a talon up to pluck the thing off and stared down at the ribbon from Smolder’s Friendship Box.
You Participated!
“I made you do most of the work,” she said. Gallus looked up at her to witness a light blush quickly receding from her cheeks. “Couldn’t have gotten the sugar cube project done without you. So, I thought you might like it. You can put it in your box if you want.”
Gallus stared at it for a moment then stuck it onto his chest. “It deserves a better place. I’ll figure out something special for it.”
“That’d be awesome, dude. Hey, how about we start another project together? We can make a picture frame, and—”
“There you guys are!”
Silverstream swooped over to them, landing on the catering table, unintentionally sticking her talon in the punch bowl and beaming down at them. “We’re about to do karaoke. You two should join!”
Gallus and Smolder glanced at each other, then at Silverstream. “Karaoke?” Gallus spoke up. “I don’t know… sounds kinda—”
She swooped down to the floor and dove back up. Gallus flinched as she met him beak-to-beak and stared into her glistening eyes. “You’ll love it! I already have a song in mind, and a part you will be perfect for, and a part Smolder will be perfect for, and and and a part Sandbar will be perfect for, and AND—oh! We’re gonna miss our turn. Hurry!”
Silverstream left almost as quickly as she'd shown up, leaving him alone with Smolder again. “So,” he said. “You wanna do it?”
She shrugged. “Only if you want to. I ain’t gonna force ya.”
“Cool. I’ll give it a shot. So long as you guys are there.”
And they went. Smolder dragged him along behind her, tail entwined around his neck. He allowed it, mainly because it was probably her revenge for how he pulled her out earlier. As they exited the gymnasium, he thought about a lot of things. He thought about the rest of his friends waiting for them by the karaoke machine. He thought about the crowd of ponies clustered around it and how they would all be staring at him when it was his turn to sing. He thought about freezing up and stuttering through his part of the song. He thought about his friends carrying on after him and singing their lines perfectly, then figured that if they would have the confidence to get through it then he would too.
He thought about what happened in Smolder’s room. What would hopefully stay in Smolder’s room. He thought about what he told her only minutes ago. He knew it was a lie, but it was a lie full of hope. A lie with an idea of truth. The truth was, Gallus didn’t know if he could get better. He still saw the same outcome—everyone graduates, then all of his friends would be gone. He would be all alone again. It tore him apart on the inside, but even deeper inside where it was warm, it comforted him knowing that he made Smolder happy tonight. And, in some weird way, that made him want to try. Although he knew that he would always be inherently selfish enough to perceive everything only one way. Just like everyone else.
Author's Note
