Hoity: The Untold Story

Chapters

1 - A Change in Blue
2 - A Fancy Winter
3 - Back to Square One
4 - The Hypocrite

1 - A Change in Blue

Hoity hoped that this would work. Inside an office with a big mahogany desk in the center, he sat across the stallion that weighed his future. The name of this stallion who would determine his fate was etched on a plaque on the desk - Prof Letter - a unicorn in a dark suit and tie who looked like he needed a coffee break. His tired eyes scanned the transcript application like a layer going through a contract. While he examined it, Hoity looked around the office that showed a couple of college degrees, a photo of the staff, a picture of a kitten, a bookshelf that had dozens of binders, and the large window that looked out towards the streets of Canterlot.

He heard a cough from the older stallion that demanded his full attention. “Okay, so from what I can see, you're overall a pretty good student from your classes. Grades are acceptable, paperwork is all in order.”

Hoity raised an eyebrow, trying not to show his nervousness. “But?”

“Nothing, it’s just… I’m finding all of this a little odd.”

“What do you mean?”

“For starters, from what I can see from this,” he held up the application, “there isn’t an address on this.”

“To be fair, we just moved to Canterlot from Ponyville. Currently, we’re residing at my aunt’s place and still looking for a house.”

“Even so… I still find it odd that a fifteen-year-old is here getting enrolled in my charter school but you don’t have either parent here. Only you.”

“But to be fair, it’s been chaotic over the past couple of days. Dad working and mom finding a new house - still looking. Their schedules had been in such a mess that I was told to come here to apply, being a student here myself. But still,” he pointed towards the bottom lines of the application, “they did sign that to have me enrolled.”

“I can see that,” Prof put the application down on the desk. “Normally I would ask the parents a few questions before we enroll any new students at the school - but given the circumstances, I suppose I will have to ask you. What made you want to enroll here at Polaris Academe?”

Taking in a deep breath, Hoity took a moment to gather up his thoughts. “Before I answer that, Mr. Letter, do you mind if I ask you something?” He was told to go ahead. “Is there any policy regarding students of sexual orientation?”

“Well, we have an anti-discrimination policy in place where it includes students and teachers ranging from being discriminated against by tribe, species, social status, income, sex, sexual orientation, and identity. Why?”

“Let’s say… I want to be in a school where me being uh… gay… isn’t a problem.”

“Oh…” Prof looked down at the application for a moment. “It shouldn’t be. All we care about is if you had good grades and turned in assignments and projects on time.”

“As opposed to Ponyville that isn’t as… how you say… as forward thinking. When moving here to Canterlot… I wanted to go to school where I would be treated like a pony. But to your question, this school makes the most sense because the idea of completing projects and problem solving is needed to pass. Honestly, I think it’s a perfect fit for me because I’m good with my hooves. And if I’m given the right materials, I can do all sorts of things. I promise I won’t be lazy but spend my time crafting a future.”

“Which leads to the next question: What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“Ideally? Perhaps go up as a designer or a critic.”

“For what?”

“Fashion. Learn how to make clothes and how to sell them.”

Prof hummed, “I hear it’s a tough business. Not many are successful in that field.”

“Which is why I want to come here. To learn what made those in the past so great and how I can build on that.”

“Like your mane, for example?”

Hoity paused to reach back to the ponytail. “What about it?”

“To me, it looks like one of those wings from a couple of hundred years ago. The white powdered kind with curls on the side of your head and has a ponytail that’s tied with a ribbon. You have the same look - black ribbon and everything.”

“This isn’t a wig. And… Yes, I may have taken some inspiration from it. But the point being I want to take the good stuff from the past to see if they can be useful in the present.”

“Sounds to me that you already have a vision for yourself. Which is always good to hear.”

“How come?”

“It’s the foundation of having ambition. You can’t have that unless you have the vision to anchor yourself to. A guideline in where you want to go.”

“Are there any other questions you have?”

Prof thought about it for a moment, “Do you know when you and your parents will be taking residence?”

“It’s hard to tell,” Hoity shrugged, “Dad said it’s rather frustrating that he can’t find anything yet.”

“I thought you said your mother was looking for a house?” Prof raised an eyebrow.

“Uh well… She is, dad has been looking as well.” Hoity lied, hoping the older stallion wouldn’t notice.

After a hum, Prof handed the application back to him. “Well as soon as you do know where you’ll be staying, let us know. In the meantime, go over to an adviser so you can know what classes you’ll be taking.”

Hoity blinked, “You mean…?”

“Welcome to Polaris Academe, Hoity. Be sure to come on time tomorrow morning at 7:30.”

Before Prof could get up, Hoity had rushed around the desk to hug him. “Oh thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Your… welcome?” Prof gently pushed him away by his hoof. “Now go finish picking out classes.” After Hoity went away, closing the door, Prof had the feeling that perhaps, this fifteen-year-old wasn’t telling him everything. What exactly? He didn’t know.

Bright and early, students for the Academe came, and there was already talk about the new colt in town. It was thought he had suddenly appeared before the school was even open. A gray Earth pony with a white wig and tail that looked as though it was a powdered wig. He strode through the halls like a runway model. And given what he had on, he seemed to be much better dressed than anyone in the school.

A dress shirt of light blue with a copper tie, and an overcoat of turquoise that drew most of the attention. Stitched along the coat was the pattern of peacock feathers that had dozens of eyes with reflective buttons. It was certainly more eye-catching than anything the students wore. Even the young mares eyed him with a mixture of awe and envy.

There was certainly a sense of grandeur and mystery since many students were sure they’d never seen this face before. Hoity as he went up and down the halls could hear the whispers that were aimed at him. Was he a foreign exchange student? Maybe some rich kid that had recently moved to Canterlot? Where did he get the clothes from? Who was he? It brought a smile to Hoity’s face at keeping these students guessing, letting their imaginations fill in the blanks. The longer he went about, the more fantastical the rumors became before the first bell was heard.

“Maybe he gets his clothes tailored-made?”

“I’ve heard that he’s a prince from Manedia.”

“His family must be wealthy to have him go around like that.”

“Where can I buy that?”

So much intrigue is being generated around the young stallion. Strode about like the lead actor in a play with the attention of everyone in his hoof. It gave him a sense of control over how they see him - and he preferred that. Let them guess, let them gawk and wonder. Let them come up with theories about who he was and where he came from.

For all he knew, it was better than the reality.

“Where did you get the clothes from?” Hoity stopped to see who spoke to him. A unicorn that was clear to him that had wealth written all over. A bright red mane that obviously had gold extensions, a pristine light blue coat that was perfumed in lavender and orange blossom, and she had on a white sweater that was brand new.

“What? This old thing?” Hoity held up his foreleg that the sleeve had the reflective eye design. “I figured that I made some improvements beforehoof. To give it some character.”

“So you made this?”

“I wouldn’t say that; more like I improved it.” That wasn’t a lie. It was true that Hoity didn’t make these clothes, but the stitching and extra buttons were his own invention from the night before. “Personally, I think it’s much better this way.”

“Even so… It looks like something you would see in a high-end boutique.”

“Why thank you… I’m sorry, I don’t think I got what your name was.”

“Orchid Drop, and what about you? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Hoity,” he offered her his hoof to shake, “Hoity Toity. I’ve just recently moved to Canterlot.”

“Oh! No wonder why I didn’t recognize you.” She shook his hoof and added, “I’m good at recognizing faces and I was confused. Still, welcome to Canterlot.” Orchid leaned her head over to the side and asked, “So what does your cutie mark mean?”

Hoity looked over at the mark on his flank - an old folding fan that has golden handles. “It means that I have the talent of taking something old and creating something new out of it. Like these clothes, for instance. I wasn’t kidding when I say that these are old clothes. Yet with some stitching and well-placed buttons, even this can be made stunning.”

“Still… that is impressive. You could give my friends a few pointers.”

“Why?”

“Well, don’t tell them that I said this, but they’re the kind that could buy the most expensive clothes and still look a bit… off.”

“What can I say, I have an eye for detail.”

Just then, the bell rang.

“I gotta go,” Orchid picked up her books, and before she went off to her first class of the day, she asked, “Hey, would you mind sitting with my friends for lunch? We’re always by the big window, right in the middle.”

Hoity said that he would as he too left for the first period.

As promised, when the lunch bell was heard that the students stampede to the cafeteria, and Hoity got his food, he went looking for the filly he ran into that morning. On the other end of a large room is a big window that looked out towards Equestria. Going between several tables, he found the one that was in the middle where Orchid was. Sitting by her were two other fillies - whom she introduced as Ivy Petal and Cinnamon Glow.

Ivy was a green unicorn that carried around the latest magazine of the latest trend in her pursuit. At first, Hoity secretly thought of her as shallow, but she looked through these developing trends with a critical eye where she would critique them in telling how long this or that will last. If something meets her approval, she would proclaim that this or that will be the next best thing - and if something was ridiculous or impractical, she was the first one in the group to rip it into pieces.

Cinnamon on the other hoof had an obsession with trying to get her hooves on the latest thing. It didn’t matter what exactly. It could be the latest hat, the latest makeup brand, the latest horseshoes - she had to have it. Every few days she would come to school with the newest and latest, as a way to “keep up with the times.”

Orchid, as Hoity grew to know, had an eye for aesthetics when it comes to fashion. Someone who had put the extra time to put whatever on that made her look good. On some days, Hoity would be impressed by her for her creativity in mixing and matching her wardrobe to make it as though she was a run model.

For Hoity, years later, he had learned a great deal from these three that helped him gain an identity in the fashion world.

At the time, however, Hoity made the effort in befriending them. Try to find common ground in their interests, listen to their latest gossip over this and that, and from time to time crack a joke that would get them laughing. Whatever it took to make sure that he would find security.

Weeks went by, and behind Hoity’s back, Orchard, Ivy, and Cinnamon had noticed a few… strange things about the new colt. For one, he never says where exactly he lives nor goes into detail about who his parents are. Hoity would gladly talk about nearly anything else - from trivia facts about what fashion was like during the Renaissance to cracking a joke about how awful this or that teacher is. But if asked what his parents do or where he had moved from, he immediately would change the subject.

By the third week of school, it was apparent that Hoity was hiding something. What exactly…? None of them knew. They never see him leave the school except asking if he could sleep at one of their places over the weekend. No one had any idea where in Canterlot Hoity was living, or who his parents were. It was altogether odd, but on the other hoof, Hoity was pretty entertaining to be around. And the sense of mystery only added to his character.

As secretive as Hoity was, that didn’t mean he never shared any with his friends.

On a Thursday during lunch hour, they gathered around their usual table when Ivy came to their table, distracted. While they gossiped over this and that, Ivy was unusually quiet. Her attention was directed elsewhere.

“Hey, you okay Ivy?” Cinnamon asked.

“Huh?” Ivy snapped back to her friends.

“Were you listening at all or what?” Orchid looked over, trying to see what Ivy was looking at.

“Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind today.”

“Did something bad happen?” Hoity inquired.

Ivy shook her head, “No, no. Nothing like that just…” She glanced over her shoulder for a second before saying, “I think I might have landed a date.”

“Wait, really?” Orchid blinked, taken aback at what she said. “Who with?”

“Over there, at the table that’s over by the drinking fountain. Do you see the one with the blond mane with glasses?”

They spotted the unicorn Ivy was talking about. A milk chocolate-colored young stallion that had a golden mane, wearing black glasses and a white collar shirt.

“Seems cute,” Cinnamon commented, “who is he?”

“Trenderhoof. He’s in my second-period math class. We had a study group where he was in it and I got a closer look at him. And Celestia, he’s adorable! He pays attention to the latest trends like me, he’s sweet, and has a mane like you would see in a magazine.”

“In other words, you’re into nerdy colts,” Orchid smirked.

“Oh c’mon! I can’t just help who I happen to like, you know? He has such a soft face that just makes you wanna hug him like a plushie. He has a personality which you can talk for hours with.”

“I guess I can see that,” said Cinnamon, “everyone has a type.”

“Oh yeah? What’s yours?”

“Well,” Cinnamon twiddled her hooves around, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I tend to lean towards the more… fit kind.”

“Like athletes?” Hoity asked.

“Uh-huh. Just anyone who has developed some muscle. Anyone on the Hoofball team comes to mind. Or on the track team. Or-”

“Basically, the idea of going into the colt’s locker room would be a dream come true.” Orchid jokes.

Cinnamon huffed yet had a blush on her cheeks. “Says the filly that went out with Buck Monterbank. And everypony knows he’s the typical jock.”

“Hey, I didn’t know that he has the personality of cardboard.” Orchid remarked, “Besides, I’m not exactly into meatheads myself. Just… ya know… someone who’s fit without being a bodybuilder. I want to have a coltfriend that isn’t afraid to bend the rules a little and does it with a wink in his eye. Someone that would fight if anyone upsets me.”

“Huh, I never noticed that you have a bad colt fetish,” Ivy remarked.

“It’s not a fetish!”

“Uh-huh, I’m sure it isn’t.” Cinnamon rolled her eyes. Then turning to Hoity, she asked, “And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, what’s your type? Are there any fillies that caught your eye?”

“Oh! This I gotta hear,” Orchid rubbed her hooves. “Is there anyone you like so far?”

“I u-uh…” Hoity hesitated, feeling tense as his friends waited for an answer. “I mean… I haven’t got a marefriend or anything like that.”

“Okay, but what do you like anyway?” Ivy leaned up to him. “C’mon, you can tell us.”

“It’s just that uh…”

“What are you into anyway?” Cinnamon asked.

Hoity felt a familiar sense of uncomfortableness. Being interrogated by nearly all sides over something he didn’t want to share. There was barely room to breathe like being in a tight corset where his friends want answers. What made everything so tense was a single thought - should he tell? On the one hoof, he was in a city that, in theory, is more progressive than any place in Equestria. It was why he came to Canterlot in the first place. On the other… he had only known these three for less than a month. That isn’t nearly enough time to get to know anyone. Even in the most tolerant place in the world, there would always be those that can’t see past pride or prejudice.

Then again… they never come off as bad ponies either. For all he knows, perhaps for once, he could take the risk. Yet… suppose it backfires? It wasn’t just outright rejection he was afraid of, but if this secret gets out to the rest of the school. Who knows what would happen if this would be found out in the wrong hooves - he might be bullied until the day he graduates.

And yet… would they do that? Would Orcid, Cinnamon, and Ivy do something like that?

“Hey, Hoity? You okay?” Ivy waved a hoof in his face.

“What?”

“You spaced out there for a moment.” Then after a beat, Ivy asked, “Do you wanna see the school therapist?”

“No, no, it’s just…” Hoity took a deep breath. He knew what he was about to say was a gamble. Given his current situation, it’s a big gamble. “Well… the thing is… I don’t have a type for uh… for fillies.”

All three friends looked at him blankly.

“So… are you gay or something?” Orchid asked.

After a long, hesitating moment, Hoity nodded.

“Huh…” Cinnamon blinked. “Somehow, I should have seen that coming a mile away.”

“Ha!” Ivy smirked, “I tried to tell you that there’s no way he’s straight but did either of you listen? Nooo.”

“Wait, you knew?” He asked Ivy.

“Not really, but you kinda give off that sort of vibe, ya know? I mean no offense to you, but how many colts would go that extra mile in looking like a runway model every day he enters school?”

“Hey that doesn’t mean anything,” Orchid spoke up, “I mean, have you seen Twilight Velvet? She often looks and behaves more like a colt but we all know she’s straight as a ruler.”

Hoity blinked. “So… you don’t mind that I’m…?”

“Well, why would we?” Cinnamon asked, “You seem like a cool enough guy that knows a bunch more about fashion than we do. Although… you’re the first colt we know that’s for sure gay.”

“What does that mean?”

“Meaning that you’re the first gay guy we know.” Ivy explained, “And yeah, there are rumors that some of the students are gay but we don’t fully know if they’re true or not.”

“Still,” Orchid added, “I don’t think it changes anything. Rather that we have more stuff in common than we thought.”

“Huh…” Hoity blinked before a small grin grew on his face. “Like… colts for instance?”

“Yeah, and since you brought it up,” Cinnamon scooted over to him. “As a gay guy, I gotta ask, what is your type anyway?”

Feeling his cheeks warming, Hoity said, “Well… Currently, I’m still trying to figure that out but…”

This got the girl’s attention. “But?” They collectively asked.

Hoity looked over his shoulder, “I would be lying if I said there isn’t someone that I find attractive.”

“Who is it?” Orchid asked.

“He’s someone that isn’t in any of my classes,” Hoity said, not looking at any of them but still searching, “I don’t know who he is, but he has a distinctive face…” After a moment, he pointed, “Over there. Sitting at the corner of that table.”

Curious, the three fillies looked towards where Hoity was pointing at.

Several rows of tables away from theirs, there was a white unicorn with a blue mane who had on a dark overcoat. What was noticeable was the three golden crowns on his flank, each having a violet jewel in them.

“Oh! That guy?” Orchid asked.

“Uh-huh.” Hoity nodded, a smile creeping on his face.

“The one with the silky, shiny blue mane?” inquired Ivy.

“Yeah…” Hoity’s smile grew wider.

“What, you mean Fancy Pants?” Cinnamon questioned.

This got Hoity’s attention, “Is that his name?”

“You know him?” asked Orchid.

“Eh… kinda.” Cinnamon waved an uncertain hoof. “I’ve heard bits and pieces of the guy. All I know is that his family is rich and had moved from Trottingham about a year or so ago. A nice guy too and he regularly has fundraisers for the school. That, and he has founded an afterschool club.”

“Which one?”

“The Designer’s Club. I’ve never been to it, but from what I’ve heard it’s like an art club where they cover practically everything from drawing to making short films. Honestly, you might wanna check it out to see what it’s about.”

“Oh! Not a bad idea,” Ivy suggested, “it would be perfect to maybe get to know Fancy over there.”

“I see but…” Hoity hesitated, looking over his shoulder to Fancy who is animatedly chatting away with what he thinks is his friends. “.... I don’t think it would go anywhere.”

“And why not?” Orchid raised an eyebrow.

“Because even I know that not every colt you’ll run into is going to be gay. For all I know, Fancy over there might not be capable of liking me that way. He probably would prefer to have a marefriend instead of me.”

“Ehh…” Cinnamon’s face scrunched up, “I don’t know about that. But I do know that Fancy never had a marefriend.”

“Really?” Ivy tilted her head, “Never? But that guy looks like an ancient Pegasi statue with a near-perfect face. How has he never had a marefriend?”

“Well that’s just it, I know several students tried to get him to be their coltfriend but no one has ever hooked him. Now I’m not saying he’s gay, but… who knows? Maybe it might be possible for Hoity after all.”

“But that doesn’t… I mean it’s not like…” Hoity tried to come up with a reason why that may not be the case. After all, his friends were merely guessing on a pony they didn’t know that well. For all he knows, perhaps Fancy might be in a relationship already and isn’t known to the school. Perhaps he might be really picky. Maybe he hasn’t found the filly that would make him happy. There were hundreds of retorts that Hoity could give that were swarming around his head. Yet, as much as he doubted the optimistic possibility… it still was a possibility. After all, he doesn’t know how that handsome colt would react otherwise. For all he knows, he might like him back enough. On the other hoof, he doesn’t know either. It’s that sense of not knowing what made it equally frustrating and hopeful.

“Why don’t you go up to him?” Orchid asked.

“Go up to…!” Hoity came close to shouting but caught himself before asking, “Me going up to him, are you crazy!? I can’t just go up to him!”

“Why not?”

“I mean, look at him, he’s probably talking to his friends a-and I don’t want to make it weird. Just waltz up to him to ask him out.”

“Whoever said about asking him out, just go say hello. You don’t have to overcomplicate everything or make it look flawless either. Just go up and say ‘Hey, I’m Hoity, what’s your name?’ Let him get to know you a little and start from there.”

“But-”

“I get you’re nervous, Hoity,” Ivy said, getting up and using her magic to pull her friend by the collar. “But you can do this.”

“Hey! Wait a minute!” Despite Hoity’s protests, he was dragged out of his seat and being pushed towards Fancy’s table. Some students were giving him weird looks as he tried to halt Ivy from getting any closer. His hooves slid across the tiled floor, he tried to grab on to whatever was nearby, but he was inched closer towards the one pony he didn’t want to look like an idiot too.

It was intimidating for him to be this close to someone this… well, the only word that Hoity could come close to describing was regal. Getting this close to Fancy was like approaching a masterpiece brought to life. From the mane that curled and swept like a renaissance painting, to the body that would make any ancient Pegasi sculpture envious, the marble white coat that looked as soft as velvet, and even the sapphire blue eyes - Hoity felt inferior compared to him. Perhaps “inferior” wasn’t the right word, but having been pushed closer and closer to Fancy with his friend not letting off…

“Hey, excuse me,” Ivy called out, getting Fancy’s attention. “Are you busy?”

“Not…exactly?” Fancy replied, confused. Speaking in his Trottingham accent that to Hoity’s ears, was so lyrical that it sounded better than any music he’s ever heard. “Do you need something?”

“Me? No. Though this guy wants to meet you,” She pushed Hoity up close to the table, “Go ahead, say hi.”

Hoity’s throat became dry as a dessert on a summer day. To his horror, his mind was completely blank as to what to say or do. Fancy blinked at him, expecting him to do… something, anything. He had no idea how to react as he felt second after second that felt like hours. He didn’t want to mess anything up, but then again he wanted his numb hooves to work and run off to some distant dark corner where he would be forgotten from this awkward moment. But his hooves were like they were glued to the floor. Despite how dreadful it was to be in front of someone like Fancy, he felt he couldn’t get away.

He had expected to have Fancy so weirded out that he would try to distance himself from him. Perhaps turn around and say something along the lines of “What a freak.” Or even outright ignore him entirely. In those few short seconds, he thought up hundreds of scenarios, all of which ended with him looking like an idiot.

What he didn’t count on, however, was that Fancy would hold out a hoof to him. “Well uh… hello. My name is Fancy Pants.” Still unsure what to say, he knew that he should at least shake his hoof - and did so. “I’ve seen you in the halls in those new clothes. Very unique, did you buy these somewhere or did you make them yourself?”

“Um… I uh… made some of these.” Hoity answered, his voice crackling.

“Really, all this is your work?” Fancy asked, taking a closer look at a short-sleeve shirt he had on. “Even the embroidery?” Although it was a white shirt, what made it stand out was the stitching of blue and green threads that made it so that it looked like vines growing. “It must have taken you months to get all of this right.”

“Well, I… I don’t want something that would be forgettable.”

“Indeed. And all of this by yourself too… You must have a remarkable talent…” Fancy paused, “Oh… I’m terribly sorry, I don’t think I’ve caught your name.”

“It’s Hoity… Hoity Toity.”

“Well, the point is, Hoity, that you have quite the talent. How do you manage to find the time to make something like this?”

“Oh it’s not that hard,” Hoity said shyly. “It’s just using a needle and some thread. The rest is just figuring out what you want to do with it.”

“Still, it’s amazing what you’re able to do.”

Hoity felt his face getting warm, “I mean… it could be better.”

“Of course, but you have quite the talent for detail nevertheless.” Fancy shot a smile as though he had spied a grand opportunity, “Are you in any after-school clubs?”

“Well… no. Why?”

“You would be perfect for the Designers Club. I don’t know if you have ever heard of it, have you?”

“Kinda… but I don’t know what it’s about.”

“Think of it as a sort of art club that has a bohemian-like atmosphere where creative types are in the same room. Both working on projects and critiquing other works as well. You would fit right in with the others there. We’ve got ponies that draw, a filmmaker, a couple of painters, a sculptor, a few poets, one that’s into creative writing, and even an interior designer. At the end of the semester, we would host a gallery for the school to see our work. Would you like to come? If you can’t, that’s alright but I think you’d contribute greatly to the other members.”

“.... Would I have to bring my own materials or…?”

“That won’t be necessary, I could send in supplies so you wouldn’t have to spend anything. If you’re seriously considering joining, then I will bring those materials tomorrow. But you can come to the classroom to see if you like it.”

In the past few months, Hoity had to use whatever opportunity he could get. While this was no different, this is certainly unique - he would have all the materials to make new clothing, as well as an excuse to get closer to Fancy. As far as he saw it, this was a win-win.

After telling Fancy that he would like to come, he was told that they would meet up in room 909 at 3:45. Hoity said he would be there.

2 - A Fancy Winter

By 3:30 in the afternoon, the final bell rang to signal the end of a school day. Most of the students went out the doors to go home, but for a few, there were still a few things left to be done. The athletes headed toward the grassy fields, the more intelligent students went toward the laboratories, and Hoity was heading down a hallway toward a corner of the school. This particular hallway holds the school’s more artistic classrooms that ranged from the orchestra, choir, photography, drama, metal and wood shops, and the art studios at the very back.

Hoity found room 909. He had never been into this room before, with the name of a teacher he never heard of that was on the door. Yet, through the glass panels, he can see the movement of students going about. He turned on the doorknob and pulled it open to see a wonderful sight.

It was an open room that had color, light, and chatter. He saw works of art in the midst of their creation from paintings to sculptures. There were rows of fabrics from the ceiling that was see-through enough to cast rows of colors on the floor. He saw over a dozen students discussing and giving suggestions on several works and how to arrange them. There were poets that were commenting on a painting. A painter reading over a short story. A writer over a sculpture. And a musician giving feedback to a colt with a camera. The sense of this room was alive and buzzing with possibilities.

But he then found what he was looking for - Fancy Pants, he was by a student he had never seen before. A red earth pony that had a film reel as a cutie mark. They were looking through a few strips of film over a light table and a magnifying glass. He was steadying himself as he walked over to them.

Fancy looked up, “Ah, you made it! You’re just in time.”

“For what?”

“We need your opinion on this. This is Handy Red, he’s learning about how to make his first short film. Handy, this is the fashion colt I was talking about.”

“Huh?” Handy looked up from the magnifying glass and… Well, Hoity wasn’t sure what happened because one moment, Handy was giving him an odd look. It wasn’t a bad look from his pink eyes but there was a sparkle in them as they got big. Then the next, he unexpectedly said, “U-Uh excuse me!” and suddenly left the classroom.

Hoity blinked, “What was that all about?”

“I’m not sure, that was the first time I saw him do that. Hope he’s alright.”

“Yes,” Hoity cleared his throat. “So… I’m here. What do we do now?”

“Well, first of all, let me say welcome to the club. Before I show you around, I should make clear what this club is about. Here in the Designers Club, we are not only here to make art and critique it, but more importantly, to learn about aspects of design in its many forms and fields. Because here, we think that everyone has something they can learn from each other’s craft. We offer a wide variety of points of view that we hope can help you improve whatever art form you want to go in.”

“So in other words, not only will I be learning about various areas of design, but I would be able to teach everyone else as well.”

“That’s the idea. Come, let me show you around and have you meet everyone.”

And so, Fancy introduced Hoity to the other members of the club. There was Light Prose which specializes in freestyle poetry. An abstract painter named Wild Vision used bright colors in his works. There was Mythic Swing who improvised on the cello. There was a sculpture, Pearl Dawn, which used clay and wire to sculpt fantastical trees. There Marble Beat was asking about what a character would do for her story. It was difficult for Hoity to keep track some of the time but the works they were creating spoke to him. From the rhythmic flow of poetry to the bold colors, he was getting inspiration for ideas of clothes he could do.

After introducing everyone, Fancy asked, “So what do you think?”

“This place is wonderful. I’m getting so many ideas from these ponies. I wish I could get to work right away.”

“If you could wait until tomorrow, I can bring you what you need… So, what do you need? Besides fabric, of course.”

“I can write you a list, but there is one question I have.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you here? Please don’t take offense, but being in a room of these creative students, what part do you play?”

“I have a few roles to play here. For example, I get the supplies for everyone here from paint to gathering film. Secondly, even though I’m not much of an artist myself, I think that giving an outsider’s opinion would help as a way to give them a sense of direction. And thirdly, I’m the president of the club.”

“Ah, so you juggle a lot, huh Mr. President.”

“Please, call me Fancy.” Fancy laughed, “So what do you think?”

Hoity said that he would gladly be a member. For once, he felt he found a place where he could really shine.

As promised, Fancy did bring the necessary supplies the next day, and Hoity went straight to work. Made sketches before cutting out patterns with the cloths of satin, cotton, and polyester, and began making some colorful clothing. Later on, Hoity would admit that the students were a tremendous help as they suggested ideas that he hadn't considered before. Such as looking up the fashions of the past to incorporate into his work. Or the idea of using rhythmic patterns and unique color combinations. At the same time, however, he would now and then give his opinion about the elements of the design of the other students. It was from them that he would learn about the importance of line, balance, shape, contrast, color, value, movement, form, pattern, texture, rhythm, space, unity, order, composition, tone, symmetry, and harmony. It was surprising how much he could learn from other mediums that would influence his own.

It really was a win-win, Hoity would be in the perfect environment to tailor his own clothes, and he wouldn’t have to… borrow old ones anymore.

What’s more, he gets to see Fancy every day.

And more importantly, he speaks to him every day.

“At times I wonder how you do it,” Fancy told him one day.

“What?”

“How are you able to make these clothes so quickly?”

When Fancy brought it up, Hoity was working on the sleeve of an overcoat that he had seen in a history book, one that had big cuffs and lots of buttons. “What can I say? To make great works of art, you have to put the work into it. Besides, it doesn’t take long for me to make these.”

“Even without magic, it’s impressive.”

“So you like it? Even though it’s not finished.”

“I bet it will be stunning when it does get done.”

Hoity blushed at the compliment.

“Maybe one of these days I should be asking you to make my clothes.”

“What? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Why not? I mean you’ve been turning out with these every couple of days. I can even pay you if you like. Besides, I wouldn’t mind having one of your creations on me.”

Hoity stared at him, “Are you serious?”

“I like what you make, and I wouldn’t mind having a few of my own.”

Setting his work aside, Hoity didn’t know how to respond at first. His crush was asking him to make a few clothes for him! Already he was getting dozens and dozens of ideas for what he could create. “I don’t know what size clothes you wear.”

“Do you have a tape measure?”

Looking at his work area, he picked it up.

“Well,” Fancy sat on his hunches and stretched his forelegs out, “measure me.”

The mere thought that to do so he would have to touch him took every ounce of self-control that Hoity could muster. Taking in a deep breath, Hoity walked behind Fancy, unraveling the measuring tape, he at first started to measure out the forelegs. How long they were from the neck to the hoof, how thick they were all the way around. Then he measured his neck where he had to be careful not to choke him. Then the next part he had to really contain himself. Placing one hoof at the base of his neck, he measured with the other down his back, just above his flank. Next, he measured his torso in three different areas: the waist, above his stomach but above his ribcage, and just underneath the forelegs at his withers.

He wouldn’t say it aloud, but Hoity being able to get a teasing touch of this close-to-perfect body was almost too much for him. To where he could feel the just right tone muscle underneath the clothes, to have him wrap around his withers, and coming mere inches away from his god-like flank - he was praying that Fancy didn’t notice his embarrassed blush.

“I hope I’m not too fat to work with,” Fancy joked.

“What? Oh no, no! You’re perfect.” Hoity said without thinking, but upon realizing what he just said quickly added, “To work with!” Hoping that Fancy didn’t notice.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had clothes tailored for me before.”

“But… aren’t your family rich?”

“Yes, but we usually buy our clothes already made, you see. But this is a first to have it be costume made.”

Getting the last of the measurements, Hoity asked, “Why did you ask if you were fat?”

“Partly because I wanted to break the silence, and partly because I’ve been working out after school. Father said it’s important that I need to take care of myself.”

“Oh… Well, I think you’re in good shape.”

“Yes, but I’m not exactly a bodybuilder type. You know? I don’t consider myself an athlete or anything.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Hoity said, rolling up the measuring tape. “I would kill to have… what you have.” Then a thought came to him. “Fancy, would you mind if I cut out patterns for you?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I want to use some paper to trace out certain parts and cut them out. That way I have a good idea of how big I should make your clothes.” That was partly true, but really, it was more of an excuse to have his hooves all over Fancy again.

Getting out some thin paper, Hoity proceeded to trace several patterns over Fancy’s body. Making rough outlines over his shoulder blades, his back, across his strong withers where he could feel his heart, and feeling just above his waistline.

“What do you have in mind for me?” Fancy asked, “Do you have any ideas?”

“Several. You’ve given me a lot to work with, but I am sure of one thing though.”

“And what’s that?”

Picking up a piece of blue satan, he held it up to where it touched Fancy’s cheek, “Yep,” Hoity nodded, “Blue is unquestionably your color.”

Then he got to work designing Fancy’s new clothes.

If Hoity was being honest, the measurements would have been enough. He could easily start making them without asking Fancy for anything further. However, it did give him an opportunity to touch his crush. To have his hoof brush up against his soft fur, or to feel the pulse of his heartbeat.

Unlike his own clothes, he took more time when making Fancy’s. Every so often he would ask Fancy to come by to “double-check” his work. To place the pieces up against him to both make sure it would be the right size, and partly to trace over those areas. It may have been under-hoofed, no doubt, but then again, he wanted to make sure that what he created would fit him comfortably.

Every school day after class, Hoity would come to the club to work further on his creations - as well as stitching up Fancy’s clothes as well. Even with the added workload that took up more time, Hoity didn’t mind it. If anything, he was happy to do so to make sure that every detail was just right. Eventually, the club became his favorite part of the day where for once, he had something to look forward to. Of course, the extra projects did mean that he would have extra homework to carry around, especially when he would sleep over at his friends' homes.

Then, one day about three weeks after he joined the Designers Club, Hoity decided to take a gamble. It was when the members had enough and started to head home that Hoity came up to Fancy who was always the last pony to close up the classroom when he said: “So, where do you go after class?”

“It kinda depends on the day. Today I don’t have any plans or events to go to, so I’m going to go home.”

“Oh, I see…” Hoity nodded. Taking in a deep breath when he stepped out of the classroom and Fancy locked the door he asked, “Do you mind if I asked you a favor?”

“I guess so. What is it?”

“Would it be too much trouble if I could come over to your place for the night?”

Fancy paused, raising an eyebrow. “What for?”

“Well… partly because I was hoping to maybe get your clothes done by tonight. And, partly because I wanted to hang out with you.” This was half true. Hoity was getting close to finishing his latest creation that Fancy was looking forward to. But at the same time, he hoped that maybe… just maybe… He could finally gain the courage to ask his crush out.

“Do your parents know? Not that I would mind but would they be okay with you going to my place instead of home?”

“They wouldn’t mind.” Hoity waved a dismissive hoof. “I’ve been going over to my friends' houses practically all the time. I’m old enough to make decisions on my own and they don’t care what I do just so I stay out of trouble.”

“But having a sleepover over the weekend?”

“As I said, I’m old enough to make my decisions.”

“Well… If you’re sure about it. It’s just…”

“What?”

“I haven't ever had anyone ask me to have a sleepover since I was a colt… Nor has anyone asked to do so that isn’t on the weekend. But as long as I get some of my homework done, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have you over. Though I would need to get my things before we head over, do you need time to-”

“I’m ready to go!” Hoity said, perhaps a little too quickly and eagerly. It caused an awkward moment where Fancy stared at him so he coughed in his hoof, “I mean… I’ve got everything I need with me.”

“Then… I guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting.”

In Hoity’s mind, this was a massive victory. Not only does he have someplace to go, but he’s going to spend the night over at his crush’s. Fancy on the other hoof needed to grab his saddlebag out of his locker, stuffing in his binder, textbooks, and his box of pencils before he had Hoity follow him outside.

Upon stepping out, they were greeted by a carriage with a stoic chauffeur by its side. A sleek carriage painted in shiny black, the chauffeur opened the side door where the inside was padded in white felt. After climbing into the carriage to take their seats, the chauffeur latched himself on and drove the carriage away from the school. Out from the windows, Hoity looked on as they went through the streets. Past shops and businesses, around parks, and eventually through an iron gate where he saw rows of magnificent mansions. Though they were next to one another, he couldn’t help but look up at three or four floors of buildings that were elegantly designed. Of has tall windows, columns that supported balconies, and walls that were painted brightly in whites, blues, pinks, silvers, and turquoise, each having roofs of porcelain that shine in the sun.

“I take it you’ve never been in this part of Canterlot before?” Fancy asked, his tone having a sense of amusement in his voice.

“I didn’t know this place even existed. This is a marvelously gorgeous place. Where do you live?”

“We’re nearly there, it’s only up the road.” He pointed vaguely. “This neighborhood is where a majority of Canterlot’s elite reside. Nearly everyone who is influential or wealthy enough to contribute to the city ends up living here.”

“Really?”

“With the exception of the Princess, anyone famous in Canterlot lives somewhere in these mansions. For example, that one over there,” he pointed to a mansion that had a gilded railing, “That one belongs to the Silvermanes who own the Bank of Canterlot, next door is the Ceasars that help with the delegation for the Princess, and next to that is the Emeralds which has a growing jewelry empire. Needless to say, these are the ponies that have a good deal of influence.”

“So in other words, if you wanted to get ahead-”

“These are the sort of connections that could make it happen. In a way, my parents know some of these ponies that, well, helped us end up here.”

“Now that I think of it, I don’t think I’ve caught what your parents do.”

“Well, a clue is in the name, Pants. My parents are basically entrepreneurs, mostly in the fashion industry where they seek designers for new trends. Have you ever heard of Wing?”

“The magazine?”

“More than that, they hire designers to come up with all sorts of things. I can imagine you probably get into that, being how creative you are.”

Hoity tried to hide his growing goofy smile.

“Ah, here we are.”

The carriage pulled up to the mansion at the end of the street. They stepped out to a mansion that was built out of white marble. In Hoity’s mind, it almost resembled an ancient temple with its row of columns that held up the roof. There were tall windows with black shutters, a balcony that had a vine-like railing that encompassed the building, and at the very top was a large circular window just underneath the roof. There were twin fountains that guarded both sides of the steps that lead up to a patio that leads to the front door. Everything about it was perfectly symmetrical, harmonious, and huge.

Hoity blinked, “You actually live here?”

“Yes indeed. You may say it’s a bit old-fashioned, but there is a charm to the place, don’t you think?”

“I’ll say… Your place certainly beats mine hooves down.”

Fancy laughed as the carriage pulled up on the driveway, stopping in front of the stone steps. In a moment, the chauffeur unhitched himself and opened the door for the colts to step out. Leading the way, Fancy told Hoity that he could give him a tour of the mansion before tackling their projects.

Pressing through the double doors, Hoity walked into a world of refinement. The very first thing he saw was the twin staircase in an airy foyer. At his hooves was a circular black-and-white tile floor that spread out from the center like petals of a flower from the black grand piano. The walls were stainless white that had tapestries, a couple of landscape paintings, and enlarged photos that hang from the walls. His eyes drew upwards past the windows towards the chandelier that looked like a ballgown dress from a fantasy made up of sparkling stars. Such a space for Hoity was like entering a fine arts museum.

“Fancy, is that you?” They heard a mare’s voice that was coming from one of the halls.

“Over here, mum,” Fancy called back.

Hoity then saw the mother emerging into the foyer. A short mare compared to most, she was a yellow unicorn with a light blue curly mane. She had on a white shirt that looked as though she was about to play a game of tennis. Indeed, in her aura was a racket as she did some practice swing.

“Tenis night with your friends, mum?” Fancy asked.

“Well it is Friday,” She said, taking some swings. Hoity can’t help but notice that same Trottingham accent while she spoke. The mare paused when she spotted Hoity, “Who is this?”

“He’s a friend of mine from school. This is Hoity Toity. Hoity, this is mum - Jean Pants.”

“Huh… that’s new.” Jean eyed her son’s friend. “Usually you don’t bring ponies over.”

“I asked him to,” Hoity said, “there’s a project that needs to get done and I really need his input that will take a while.”

“Who's at the door?” They looked up when they heard this new voice. Descending from a nearby staircase was a stallion who was a white unicorn with a short turquoise mane with glasses. Compared to his wife, he was taller and thinner and spoke with a Prench accent.

“This is my friend, Hoity Toity,” Fancy introduced him. “He’s going to be staying over the weekend to work on a project from school.”

“Toity… nice name you have,” Fancy’s father went up to shake Hoity’s hoof. “I’m Khaki, Khaki Pants, CEO of Trouser.”

“Hoity has a talent in tailoring, he’s really good at it.”

“Is that so?” But before either colt could give an answer, Khaki looked at the clock, “Oh! But look at the time, I’m afraid we can’t stay long. We have a tennis torment that we must get to. Perhaps later on tonight we can pop in to see how you colts are doing.”

“Behave yourselves now,” Jean said as they headed to the door. “Be sure to pick up after yourselves and dinner will be at seven. Goodbye, boys.”

And with that, Fancy’s parents were out the door before their son could say anything.

Hoity blinked, “Are… your parents always like that?”

“What?”

“I don’t know… being a bit distracted?”

“They usually are - but for good reason. Either they’re busy with work or making connections with whatever elite pony that would help make the business grow. Usually, it just leaves me to fill up my time. Still, since you’re here, I should give you that tour I promised. Follow me.”

Fancy showed him around the mansion, from the living rooms that had newly made furniture to the dining room that had a long wooden table that had enough to sit at least twenty ponies all at once. He showed him the theater room where they had a projector with seats that massage you, to the pool room in the basement. While showing room after room after room, Hoity can’t help but notice that on top of being so elegant, the mansion seems so… empty. Besides spotting the occasional servant who was cleaning or polishing something, Fancy seemed to be the only one in such a massive place. With that remark from his parents about how unusual it was to bring a friend over, he started to wonder if Fancy really had friends at all.

He was shown around from the game room at the basement level to the sunroom in the backyard where they grew tropical fruits such as mangos and bananas, and the ballroom on the top floor that had a massive window that looked out to the driveway, there was one space where Fancy saved for last.

On the second floor in a corner that faced the garden of a backyard, Fancy took hold of a door handle with his aura and said, “Finally, this is my room,” and opened it. Stepping aside for Hoity to enter first, Hoity entered the bedroom of his crush. A place that had royal blue walls and white curtains that flanked the tall windows. Beside the queen-size bed that had a light blue cover over the satin white sheets were two nightstands that held up a stained-glass lamp. On the walls was a gallery of paintings of ponies in social settings like parties, picnics, concerts, or enjoying a sunny day. There were also some bookshelves that had little knick-knacks such as little statues of pottery from the other side of the world. There was also a white desk that was cluttered with papers, notes, and some books. He also spotted from a door that was ajar, a bathroom that was large enough to have a walk-in shower.

For Hoity, being in the bedroom of his crush - and such a beautiful one at that - was a dream come true.

For that means that he has him all to himself.

Once he unpacked his things, Hoity and Fancy set to work on their homework and projects from school. While Fancy went through study sheets and read through chapters from textbooks, Hoity insisted on working on his project on the floor. He did so for two reasons. First being so he could lay out his latest creation flatly and get a better view of what needed work before stitching. The other was so he could get some sneak glances up at Fancy while he sat. To have a… pleasant distraction while he worked.

A couple of hours later when both colts had made progress on their work, Hoity chose this to be a little daring and spark up a conversation. “So…”

“Hm?”

“Do your… parents often leave you alone here?”

“Well… sometimes. Mostly they’re off at the office or going to events for networking. Oftentimes they don’t come back until later around… seven or eight. In the past they came home earlier than that in time for dinner, but lately… they’ve been gone longer and longer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“But I know they’re doing it out of spite or anything like that. They have an important role that takes time and dedication - a lot of it. It’s not that I despise them for it, not at all. It’s just…”

“They’re not… neglectful, are they?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Fancy sighed, “But sometimes I wish they would be around more often. They say now and then they’re proud of me for taking up stuff like the Designers Club or trying to make friends at the Dining Club with ponies my age. Still… you have to fill your time somehow doing something. I guess I won’t be satisfied if I procrastinate. I always need to keep myself busy.”

There was a pause, Hoity’s gaze turned towards his latest work. “.... Is it wrong that I envy you?”

“What for?”

“That you’d… have parents that still support you?”

This got Fancy’s attention to look over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… having parents that want to let you grow into what you want to… that you’d have parents that say they’ll support you no matter what… Even if they’re not around, you know that they’re glad to have you be their… son.”

Another pause as Fancy turned towards Hoity who still hadn’t looked up yet. “Aren’t yours?”

This time Hoity did look up and shook his head. “Not really… Quite the… opposite really. In fact, they… don’t know I’m here.”

“What? At my house?”

“No, I mean Canterlot. They don’t know I’m in Canterlot for months now.”

Fancy blinked. He had never heard anything like this before and it was getting more concerning by the second. “I don’t understand.”

“Fancy… had you ever wondered how is it that I’m always there at the school first thing in the morning before anyone else gets there? Have you ever wondered why I tend to ask to stay at friends' houses on the weekends? That’s because…” Hoity hesitated. He already had revealed so much and wasn’t sure what Fancy would do if he knew the rest of it. But… “The truth is… Is… I uh… I don’t… have anyplace to go.”

“.... You mean you’re homeless?”

Hoity nodded.

Fancy got out of his chair and plotted down right in front of him. “But… How can this be? How did you even enroll in the school? Where did you get all the clothes from? How do you shower? Eat? Where do you go to sleep at night?”

“That’s the thing… To get in, I had to lie my way in. I forged my parents' signatures so that I could be let in. As to where I sleep? Do you know backstage in the auditorium where all those costumes and props are?” Fancy nodded, “That’s where I get my clothes from. I modified them every night so that they wouldn’t look so… drabby on me. And when I’m not crashing at a friend’s house, I also sleep in there on a couch that’s in that room. During lunch, I tried to sneak in as much food as I could so that way I have something to eat later on. As for showers… Well, the gym is usually unoccupied at night.”

“So wait, you mean to tell me that you’ve spent the last several months living in the school?”

For a minute, Fancy’s mouth tried to say something but nothing came out. He had never heard anything like this before. He never knew anyone that was homeless in his life, and here was somepony who had hidden the fact he’s been trying to survive without letting on what was really going on.

“But…” Fancy finally was able to put into words what he was thinking, “But why go through all of this? Why run away?”

Hoity frowned, “Because they don’t want me. Nopony in Ponyville wanted me. I ended up homeless because I said to my parents four, little, words.”

“What could you possibly have said that they would-”

“Mom, Dad, I’m gay.” In that moment of stunned silence where Fancy’s jaw dropped, he followed it up with. “Then came the six words Mom said to me while being pushed out of my home: Get out of my house, faggot.”

“.... But that can’t-”

“Don’t tell me it can’t happen! It did!” Hoity snapped at him but quickly froze when his crush reared back from his sudden shouting. “Nopony in my town wanted me after that. And I knew that if I stayed there… I would have no future there. None. I don’t think I would be alive now if I chose to stay there. So, with whatever I could find enough to pay for a train ticket, I came to the one place I’m sure I might have a future - Canterlot.”

Fancy’s hooves over his mouth, he was nearly too shocked to talk, his eyes watering. “Celestia… Hoity… I didn’t know.”

“I know… you’re the first to really know that about me.” Looking him in the eye, he asked, “You won’t… tell anyone about this… will you?”

After another long minute, Fancy finally asked, “But… Why say this to me?”

“Because if I let this out… I’d bet you that I will be dragged back to Ponyville. Back to the parents that disowned me in the first place. And I… don’t wanna go back. I’m telling you this because… well… I trust you. I trust you enough because you seem to be a pretty good guy to say this to.”

Then a thought came to Fancy, “So… are you just going to keep hiding in the school?”

“Only until I graduate. To get a job so I could get a place to live. Once I get independent enough to be on my own hooves I won’t be homeless anymore. I just need to endure this long enough to get my hoof through the door without anyone noticing.”

Standing up on his hooves, Fancy at first didn’t say anything. His face was deep in thought and Hoity dreaded what he was going to do next. “What if you don’t have to?”

“Don’t have to… what?” Hoity tilted his head. “You’re not telling everypony that I’m homeless, right?”

“No. I don’t think you’ll have to be.” Facing Hoity, he said, “How’d you like to live with me?” Hoity could barely process what he was hearing. “At least, temporarily, of course. We have more guest rooms than we know what to do with here in the mansion. We have plenty of food and I can buy you new clothes so you don’t have to remodify the costumes from the school. Even better, we can have one of the rooms turn into a studio for you to work your magic in. Of course, we’ll have to tell my parents about your situation but I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“.... You mean… You’re offering me a home?”

“At least long enough for you to be on your own hooves. If that’s alright by you that is.”

Now it was Hoity’s turn to be stunned. He didn’t think that his crush would have such a big heart to not just give him a place to live, but to give him everything he needs to thrive. It was more than having a room again with a bed and clothes to wear and a hot meal - so much more. He almost expected some cruel punchline to this offering of generosity and kindness… only, none came. Fancy was serious about this. Hoity had no idea what to say. All the ‘thank you’s’ in the universe couldn’t come close to what Fancy was doing for him. But he felt something very powerful deep down that choked his voice, but it compelled him to act.

“Of course, it's only a matter of what room you want,” Fancy adds. “And if you don’t like the decor in the one you like we could always jus- MMPH!”

Fancy froze when the most unexpected thing in the world happened. His thoughts died on his lips the moment he realized that another was pressed up against his. Hoity was kissing him… and he froze. Not that he wasn’t kissed before but… he had no idea how to react to being so sudden. His friend’s hooves were wrapped around his head and Hoity’s eyes were closed while he was wide open in surprise. Fancy’s mind instantly went blank as the only thing he was aware, of was that Hoity was kissing him. It may have lasted a moment but was like centuries for him to process what was happening. He felt his breath was one with Hoity’s, his hooves shaking - should he push him away or hug him? Does he want to stop or… What was he doing? Did his head lean forward? Was he kissing back?

3 - Back to Square One

“H-Hoity! Stop!” Hoity pried him away, taking his shoulders in his hooves to give some distance between them. He was about to ask what just happened but… then he saw Hoity. His eyes tearing up as though he had punched him in the face - hard. Was he crying? “Hoity?”

“I-I thought… I…” Hoity’s voice was too choked up. He wanted to run away so he royally blew it. Any chance for a relationship with this God of Love was destroyed with that kiss. However, Fancy’s enveloped him in a tight hug that he couldn’t get away. There was no way he could get out before the tears started flowing.

“Please listen, I’m sorry,” Fancy said, enveloping him with a bearhug. “Don’t be mad at me, it’s just… that happened to me before. I’ve never been kissed by a colt and I was… Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Hiccuping in his heavy embarrassment, Fancy held him there while he cried. Hoity felt him being stroked while he sobbed into his shoulder. Here he was bawling like a baby and Fancy, though he didn’t say much… did what he could to comfort him while he let everything out. It felt as though the world had ended, yet Fancy stood there like a solid, immovable rock to let him know that everything was still okay. That everything will be okay.

After a good half an hour when Hoity’s tears subsided enough, he heard Fancy ask, “I suppose I should have seen this coming, huh?”

“W-What?”

“Hoity… I need you to be honest with me.” Taking in a deep breath, he asked, “Do you… like me that way?”

“.... I just kissed you.”

“You know what I mean. Do you have… feelings for me?”

“.... Y… Y-Yes…” Hoity said meekly.

“.... I see… Just making sure.” This time Hoity looked up where he saw his face. Conflicted, and puzzled, but he didn’t see any hint of malice. “I’m not going to lie to you… I’m at a loss for what to do. It’s not every day that you have a colt suddenly kiss you without warning… much less getting kissed at all.” Then after a beat, he asked, “How long?”

“I don’t know… a couple of months? Give or take a few weeks?”

Seeing Fancy’s horn levitate a box of tissues, he pulled out a few to wipe the tears from his face. “Are you mad at me that I pushed you away?”

Hoity shook his head, “I thought you would be mad at me.”

“I don’t think you did anything wrong. Just… I really should have seen it coming. Though I didn’t think you would like me in that way.”

“Yeah…” Hoity took one of the tissues to dry his eyes. “I have a crush on you. I didn’t mean to make this weird but… I did.”

“Hoity, I’m not going to kick you out for it. You’ve already been through a lot. The kiss just came out of nowhere for me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, really - it’s just… it threw me off balance. I don’t hate you for it - let’s be fair, if I were in your horseshoes I’d probably kiss the first one that would offer me a place to stay… Well… maybe not that just… Wow, this is confusing!”

“What is?”

Fancy didn’t reply.

“Fancy?”

“.... We should probably pick out a room for you. With all that I’m still trying to process, can we take a step back and deal with this priority first, please?”

That gave Hoity some pause. If he hadn’t known better, he would say while Fancy isn’t exactly being recipient to his feelings… he’s not turning them down either. Perhaps he gave him something to question about? For all he knew, maybe Fancy never seriously gave thought about his sexuality before and he might have awakened something.

After all… he was sure that Fancy kissed back.

Dinner was… interesting. Perhaps interesting would put it lightly when Fancy asked his parents if Hoity could live with them until graduation. The look on Jean and Khaki was one of stunned, slack-jawed surprise at such a request. For a minute, Hoity was worried about them saying no, but when they asked why, the colts explained the situation. Of how Hoity was disowned by his family and trying to cover up the fact he’s homeless. Explaining how he hoped the school might be the key to him having a future, a job to where he could be on his own hooves. When they explained as best as they could, Fancy’s parents excused themselves to talk it over. After an agonizingly long twenty minutes, they decided that they will allow Hoity to stay with them on some conditions: that he wouldn’t be too much trouble in the house; that he would strive to get good grades in his classes; and let him stay until he finds a job that would fully support him.

Hoity came close to breaking down in tears but he did hug them both.

Later in the evening, Hoity was on his back on a queen size bed in his new room. He picked out one of the mansion's guest rooms, just on the other side of the hall from Fancy’s bedroom. It was an elegant room with a high ceiling, wooden floor, and dark furniture against the white wallpaper, it also came with the addition of a door to the balcony facing the driveway, a pretty decent closet, and his own bathroom… His bathroom. He was looking forward to not sneaking down halls just to take a shower anymore. Still… the room only has the bare essentials, and the family promised they would chip in to give some additions such as a work desk, several folds of fabrics, and whatever art to hang up from the walls on picture frames.

‘Certainly beats sleeping on a dusty chaise lounge or someone’s couch any day.’ Hoity thought, still can’t believe the sheer generosity of his crush’s family.

However, before he could get ready to go to bed, he heard a knock on the door Fancy asked, “Hoity? Are you still awake?”

Hoity answered the door where he saw Fancy glimpsing down the hall as though to make sure he wasn’t seen. “Hoity um… could we talk for a minute? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Telling him he wasn’t, he let Fancy inside the room. Yet, after closing the door, Fancy walked across towards the door to the balcony, saying that he wants it to be a private talk where no one would overhear. They walked out to the balcony, into the cool night where the street lamps were lit and the stars looked down overhead. On the balcony were two wicker chairs where they sat down. Hoity noticed how uneasy Fancy was being, not looking him in the eye, having a shamed expression.

“What do you want to talk about?” Hoity asked.

Glancing around to make absolutely sure that it really was just them alone, Fancy answered, “I’ve been thinking back to what you… we did. It was startling… okay, still is but there’s been a lot about it that I’ve been thinking of.”

“Such as?”

“Well… Oh Celestia, where do I begin? Where do I end?”

“Simple, begin at the beginning, go on until you get to the end, then stop.”

At least it got a laugh out of Fancy. “I see but… well, I suppose of all the things you had told me about the kiss, there is something you did leave out.”

“What do you mean?” Hoity blinked.

“.... Why me?” Hoity raised an eyebrow. “It’s not that your gay that got me all shooked up. I just… I can’t figure that out of… I don’t know how many students at school - colts no less - that you could develop several months-long crushes on… What about me that makes me stand out? Because surely, I don’t necessarily see myself as prince charming or the most attractive colt out there. So really, what about me that you’ve developed a crush on.” He quickly added, “And if the answer is that I’m rich, I will punch you.”

Hoity laughed, “No no… okay, maybe a little.” Fancy playfully punched in the shoulder. “Just… wow this is new for me. It’s not every day that you get to tell your crush why you like ‘em.”

“Try.”

“Well… for starters, you may not see yourself as the most attractive but… Celestia, I think you’re gorgeous.”

Fancy raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to look down at himself before turning back to Hoity. “How?”

“I mean… look at you. You have a flawless coat; a well-cut, well-kept mane; you have just the right tone of muscle that makes you look so strong; your tail is hypnotic to look at when it swings.”

“Alright, be honest,” Fancy chuckled, “because I want you to be with this: have you ever stared at my flank?”

“.... I am neither confirming nor denying that.” Hoity looked away, a blush on his cheeks from that lie. “Still… your face too is nearly perfect like you belong on the cover of a magazine or something.”

“My face?”

“Well, you know what it reminds me of? Like a carved marble statue from the Ancient Pegasi. Smooth, and white, yet has such depth in every expression. That, and I won’t lie when I say this… I really like your eyes. Clear as sapphires and blue as the ocean.”

“Is that why all the clothes you made for me are mostly blue?”

“.... It does match your eyes.”

Fancy didn’t say anything, but let his hoof relax right next to Hoity’s.

“If I’m being bluntly honest,” Hoity said, “You’re the most attractive damn thing in the entire school. That, and I like your personality. A genuinely nice guy that is encouraging, happy to see you every day, always there to listen.” Hoity’s cheeks took on a pinkish tint along with a growing smile. “And you’re generous. And funny. And easy to talk to. And…” He paused when he looked back over to Fancy. “I’m being way too sappy, am I?”

“No, no. I appreciate the honesty.” Fancy told him, “It’s just… I’m not used to hearing that is all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s a little odd to hear so many compliments from someone and they’re being genuine about it. Not even from my ex-fillyfriend.”

Hoity blinked, “You had a fillyfriend?”

“Once, for a couple of months before moving to Canterlot. At first, I was blind-sighted of how incredibly lucky I was to have a fillyfriend who fed me flatteries and compliments. So blind-sighted that I didn’t realize that she… well… didn’t exactly mean it.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry.”

“It took a long while to have me to realize that she was using me to make her the popular girl in school. That she was manipulating me to make me think that she could do no wrong and just have me go along with it. And… Well, long story short, let’s say I didn’t feel bad about breaking up with her.”

“At least you had a relationship.”

Fancy raised an eyebrow, “So you never… had a coltfriend?”

“I would love to have one but… well, we can’t always get what we want.”

Shifting in his seat, Fancy placed a hoof on Hoity’s. Noticing this, he looked at Fancy’s expression that had concern written on it. “You can’t really think that’s the truth.”

“What can I say? The truth is a stubborn thing.”

There was a pause, mostly from Fancy being unsure what to say. However, after a while of the crickets filling the silence, he did ask, “There is something I want to know. Something I’m curious about.”

“What?”

“Well… don’t think of this as being offensive or anything but… how did you know you were gay?” This got a raised eyebrow from Hoity, “I mean to say, when did you realize that you weren’t into fillies?”

“In other words, when did I realize I was different?” Hoity laid back in the chair. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t realize I was peculiar at first. For a long time, I didn’t know about homosexuality, what the traits are, or what specifically about it everypony has a problem with. As a young colt, I played with toys, read story books, and played pretend with whoever would have me. For me, realizing that I’m gay came about through little bits and pieces.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I noticed that when other colts hit puberty, one of the first things they obsess about is looking at fillies' flanks. There were naughty whispers in the schoolyard of how one colt caught a glimpse of what was underneath someone’s tail. While the other colts seem curious and excited… I just didn’t get it.

“Other times it was more subtle than that. Where I get hints from advertisements of all things. Like… Do you remember seeing a billboard that had this orange mare in a bikini that was advertising some shampoo or whatever it was?”

“I might have?” Fancy shrugged.

“While colts in town would stare at it, it didn’t have the same effect on me as the… The apple juice ad.”

Fancy blinked, “I don’t follow.”

“Hear me out on this. Back in Ponyville, there was this old billboard that was advertising something about apples. It showed a yellow stallion with a red mane, holding up a basket of apples. The thing about it that I remember most was the way he looked at you. Having a smirk and having those emerald green eyes looking at you in such an… Well,” Hoity chuckled embarrassingly, “the only word I could describe it was enticing. As if he was selling more than just apples, you know? On top of having the look of a bodybuilder… every time I look at it I feel my heart skip a beat.”

“Hm… him having muscles, me having a little, I think I’m seeing a pattern here.” Fancy chuckled with a blush of his own.

“Yeah… So little by little… it became apparent to me that I wasn’t exactly straight. Yet, as much as I wanted to have a relationship with a colt that went beyond friendship… Things got complicated when I told my family what was going on.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Fancy said, patting him on the back. “I may not know a lot, but Canterlot, as far as I see it, is a little more accepting about colts being gay. I have a few friends in the Dinning Club that I’m sure are gay and nopony there bats an eye at it. Whether the school shares that same acceptance…? I don’t know. But I think that from here on out, it’s all going to be a step up from what you’ve gone through.”

“Yeah,” Hoity nodded in agreement, “Maybe if I’m lucky, I could have a real coltfriend.”

“It might happen,” Fancy said with a small smile. “I think we ought to get to bed. It’s getting rather late.”

Getting up from the wicker chairs, the two were about to enter back in the house when Hoity said, “Hey Fancy?” He looked at him where he gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks… for listening.”

In the light of his room, he saw Fancy’s face turning bright pink, a hoof reaching up to the place where he kissed it. He gave a curt “Goodnight,” before leaving his room.

Perhaps… Hoity thought… From here on out, it only gets better.

Author's Note

I know, I know. It has been a long while, has it? Believe me, I hadn't much time to myself due to stuff in real life such as college and having to juggle several different projects at once. Hopefully, we'll be getting more of these chapters out since I've written quite a bit that has been on the back burner for a while.

Still, hope you like this chapter, and here's for more to come in the near future.

4 - The Hypocrite

“.... At least he wasn’t mad at me,” Hoity concluded but frowned. “Still, it’s disappointing that it didn’t go anywhere.”

It was Monday when Hoity told Orchid, Ivy, and Cinnamon about what happened at Fancy’s. Well… maybe not everything. He didn’t tell them how his homeless problem was solved, nor that he was living at the mansion. What he did tell after the school assembly was that he did try to make a move on Fancy, but it didn’t go anywhere. The tone that Hoity told his three friends wasn’t the heartbreak that they had expected, but rather… disappointment.

While most of the students were exiting the gym, Hoity had told them the story, his back hunched over, head propped up by his hooves, and wore a frustrated face.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Orchid patted him on the back.

“Still, you actually kissed him?” Cinnamon said, “And he didn’t punch you in the eye for it. You must be really brave or lucky.”

“Does that matter?” Hoity questioned. “It still means that I’m back to where I started. All those weeks of trying to get close to him was a waste of time.”

“Well, so what?” Ivy asked, getting a sharp eye from Hoity, “No offense, but just because you’re back at square one, doesn’t mean that you couldn’t find somepony else.”

Hoity raised an eyebrow, “Name one.” They blinked, “Please, go on and name me one gay colt you know that is both single and might have the slightest interest in me.”

Ivy raised a hoof, “What about Handy?”

“Who?”

“Handy Red, he’s the filmmaker guy?” Hoity blinked, “He’s mostly red and I think he’s in the Designer’s Club.”

“Red, Red…” Tapping on his chin, Hoity remembered who was in the club. Recalling every face that could match what Ivy was… “Wait a minute? The red colt that’s always nervous? He’s gay?”

“I’m more surprised you didn’t know that.” Orchid said, “He’s one of the few students that we know is definitely gay.”

“.... Why did none of you bring this up before?” Hoity questioned.

“I thought you’d already know,” Ivy replied, “And I thought you’d already have heard about the rumors. From what I’ve heard, the guy is not exactly subtle.” Hoity asked for a few examples. “Well, hasn’t he always opened the door for you?”

“I mean… now that I think of it, he has.”

“Does he give any compliments on what you’ve been working on in that club?”

“Hey, it’s not just him, everyone else does too.”

“And does he slip in a couple of bits before you leave?”

“Wait, that was him? I thought somepony kept forgetting their money or something.”

“Not from what I’ve heard,” Ivy shook her head, “from what I’ve heard, Handy has a crush on you.”

Hoity blinked… and blinked again. Was this true? Even if it was, how come he never noticed until now? Well… maybe not gone unnoticed per-se, he honestly thought that all of that was just a nervous colt’s way of being nice. But to be fair, he had been so focused on trying to get Fancy to notice him that… maybe he was blindsided about everything else?

Still… on the one hoof, why exactly would he care? He didn’t know anything about Handy outside of the club - or inside of it for that matter. If anything, he seems just so odd whenever he’s around him to the point where he could barely spit out a “Hello.” But… if it was remotely true, was he being insensitive without realizing it? After all, not too long ago he was in the same horseshoes where he hoped against hope that maybe his crush would like him back but…

“I don’t know him too well,” Hoity folded his forelegs, “but… maybe since Fancy was a flop, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to just go up and talk to him. Who knows, if he’s decent, maybe we could go out.”

“What’s this? The Gay Lord is interested in going out with a Sissy? Stop the presses!” That unpleasant taunt came from behind them. Several rows behind them were four chuckling athletes in varsity jackets - a few jocks of the buckball team.

Hoity’s frown deepened. Just what he needs. “Don’t you have a slasher film to be killed off in?”

“Nah, we wanna hear what your plans are, Princess.” Another said, getting a laugh from his friends. “So as a queer, will you be the one to have your flank stuffed, or his?”

“You guys are disgusting, you know that?” Cinnamon got up from her seat.

“Hey, we’re not the ones hanging out with a sissy.”

Orchid too stood up, “Wow, and here I thought the rumor that everypony on the buckball team are virgins - now I can see why.”

“Hey! We get laid.”

“Unlikely,” Ivy turned around, “I mean, picking on a gay guy is kinda hypocritical, isn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“By saying that you hate gay colts, what you’re basically saying is you all prefer straight colts, which lowers any of your chances of getting a filly - which is pretty gay, isn’t it?” All mocking laughter went dead silent. Even Hoity and the other girls were looking at her after dishing out such savage logic. “Yeah, I thought so.”

For Hoity, he wanted to get out of there. Not just because he was getting offended by these idiots, but because he didn’t want to stay any longer before it might escalate into something ugly. Getting up, Hoity tells his friends that they should leave. He had no time to be bullied by ponies who should have known better.

And yet, as they were heading out into the hallways, thinking that they put all that behind them, one of the jocks ran up. “H-Hey wait! Wait!” This particular jock was a yellow-orange young stallion with a short blue mane. The varsity jacket he had on was open to show the muscle underneath it.

“Stop following us,” Hoity warned, “or I will get the school cop to-”

“Wait, hang on, I just wanna talk about what happened back there.”

Hoity and his friends stopped to look at him with suspicious eyes.

“My friends are idiots, okay? They’re stupid but they’re not going to beat you up for it.” Then after an awkward pause, he offered a hoof, “And uh, it’s Buck, by the way. Buck Mountebank.”

“And I don’t care to be associated with those that just called me a Gay Lord, a Sissy, or a queer.” Hoity turned around and was about to walk away when Buck was suddenly in front of him.

“Hey, look, I get it. We weren't thinking and we’re sorry. Really, they won’t bother you just… I wanna talk to you. Is that okay?”

Hoity raised an eyebrow, “Why? So you can dunk my head in a toilet? I may be gay, but I’m not stupid.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you either just… I wanna talk.”

“.... You’re not gonna leave me alone if I don’t, will you?” Hoity let out a frustrated sigh, “Okay, fine. What do you want?”

“Well… can we go somewhere private?”

Hoity looked over at his friends, he told them that if he was not back in the next couple of minutes, they should get help. Having to agree to talk to Buck, they went into the colt’s bathroom.

Curiously, the first thing that Buck did when they entered was to check under the stalls to make sure that they really were alone. Once he was satisfied, he went up to Hoity.

“Look, I know that this is a pretty bad look on my end, but really, I’m sorry that my friends bothered you. But that’s just because of all the attention you’ve been getting.”

“That’s what all this is about? Me getting popular?”

“Well, kinda. It’s more that they wanted to take you down a few pegs since you’re able to get the attention of someone like Fancy Pants. It’s kinda hard not to see why when you’re practically like a runway model every time you come to school. So really, they’re just jealous that you’re getting all the attention.”

“Is that all?”

“That… and why they’ve picked on you for being so…” he waved a hoof towards him, “Yeah. The thing is that you’re one of the few colts that is this unapologetically effeminate in how you dress and such. Which… okay, I should have just told them to leave you alone back there.” He rubbed the back of his head, an embarrassed blush on his cheeks.

Hoity stood there, eyebrow raised and unimpressed. “Is there a rest stop between now and the point?”

“The point?”

“I may be a colt that’s gayer than south Hinnywood decadence, but it might be surprising for you to learn that I’m not an idiot. I’m getting noticed by the school and you Neanderthals want to take me to be down a few notches - so what? I nearly expected this sort of backlash from the beginning.” Hoity took a few steps forward, pointing out, “But what I don’t get is that immediately right after all of that, you take me aside into the colt’s bathroom and say that you had a change of heart? Just like that? And why check to see we’re alone when you can do that apology stuff out in the open?”

For an awkward moment, Buck didn’t seem that he had any comebacks from that observation. Just stood there with an embarrassed blush on his face as though he had said something stupid. But, coughing into his hoof and pulling his mane back he said. “Normally, yeah that would seem odd. But… what I’m trying to say,” He smiled. “With all this popularity stuff, there’s another side to you that I don’t think you quite fully appreciate.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he put a hoof against a wall to lean on while he looked him in the eye. “Whether you realize this or not, there are those that have eyes on you. And I don’t just mean that you’re the best dressed, or that’re whispers of how envious they are that you’re always one step ahead either. No. I mean the kind that in many ways, look up to you. You know?”

Hoity wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Was he trying to intimidate him? No… If he heard he would have made some kind of threat. But his tone doesn’t quite match that psychopathic drive of you’re-going-down sort of thing. There was something in Buck’s voice that sounded like a deep purring, where his eyes were half open… When Hoity took a step back, Buck stepped forward towards him.

“The truth is,” Buck continued, “while it may not look like it… I respect you. Even now after what my idiot friends had said, you stand your ground. For being gay, you’re not a pushover, I’d bet you don’t let anyone tell you what to do, huh? And you know what…? I like you for that.”

When Hoity backed up to the tiled walls of the bathroom, it clicked to him what Buck was trying to say. “Wait…” Hoity tilted his head, “Why are you making it sound like you’re asking me on a-”

“Date?” Buck smirked, “In a way… yeah. I would like that.”

Hoity’s jaw dropped, “Hang on… You’re gay?”

At the very word, Buck instinctively checked the bathroom again to make sure no one heard it. “I wouldn’t say that… more like never met a filly that has such… interesting traits like you have.”

Another moment later, Hoity asked, “You’re in the closet, are you?”

“I just… don’t see the need for anyone else to know. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help who I like, right?” Buck admitted but quickly changed the subject after coughing in his hoof. “I mean besides, anyone else that swings that way would kill to get the chance to go out with you. Hint, hint.” He raised his eyebrows while emphasizing those last words.

“Oh really?” Hoity raised an eyebrow, “Even like… Red Handy?”

Buck let out a dismissive scoff. “Oh please, Handy? Everypony knows that fag is a slut for whatever dick he could get into his mouth. Sure he may be a nice guy, but if you ask him, all he would want is to have his plothole stuffed. If you ask me, he’s too beneath you. Not good enough for someone that’s independent and assertive. Unlike say… me?” Buck said with a smile.

For a long minute, Hoity stared at him. He wondered to himself if this buckball jock is for real. He almost expected him to say “Just kidding,” or make a joke out of that. But no. Buck was being honest with him and thinking he was charming him. But in that stillness, it gave him time to articulate a reply.

“Wow… You are incredible. I never knew anypony could be this big of a hypocrite.”

Buck blinked. “Come again?”

“Hypocrite. Two-faced. Shameless double-life phony. You hang out with friends that pick on me for being gay, yet you’re asking me out on a date. You make excuses for your teammates instead of having them apologize to me; but here you are calling another student a fag, while saying how much you look up to me. I may not have dated a lot of guys, but I can certainly tell you that I’m not attracted to manipulative, single-minded closet cases.”

“But c’mon! I have to! My friends-”

“Friends? Or a facade to make you look as normal as possible? Maybe there’s a lot about you I don’t know about. But to constantly lie, pretend, and fake your way while doing your damnedest to hide it will catch up to you eventually. Someday, those friends of yours will know that you’re not interested in fillies - and when that happens, you’ll find out pretty quickly who your so-called friends really are. I’d rather date someone that is a little more honest to themselves, and their friends than you are.” Hoity slipped by him, and before he exited the restroom, he added, “So to answer your question - I’d rather degrade myself to go out with Handy, than a hypocrite like you. So… no. I don’t want to go out with you.”