Voth had kept me company when I threw up a second time, and he stayed with me for another hour, up till six in the morning.

In that hour, he had been quite nice to me, trying to convince me that I wasn't ugly or dumb or bad like I thought, and I... I was kinda questioning myself, I guess. He did say that I was probably having an especially bad time because of other stress factors, which made sense because I'm pretty sure that when I had my period last month — when I was just feeling down for about a week — I wasn't recovering from a serious injury. How I missed that it was a period back then, I don't know. Maybe I was just overreacting to other stuff because of said period. I guess that the one good thing about it all so far is that there's no bleeding involved with the process, and that I have a way to circumvent other problems.

After Voth left, I was alone again for the rest of the day, unless I went to work. I still wasn't all that convinced that I should go, but a variety of factors told me I should go. Mainly, I'll have to go out to the pharmacy and get a bunch of that period medicine to fix myself, and that I had no real reason to not go to work, unless I suddenly have another one of those cramps.

I looked to the clock as the sun rose high enough to reach into my bedroom and land on me. It was 7:01, meaning that there was still an hour to work. I stayed in bed though, not getting up even as time passed. I should go, but I was still deciding if I had to, for some reason. Watching the minutes pass wasn't great, and being aware that I was just wasting time lying in bed wasn't great. I didn't want to go outside, but I had to, but did I really have a good reason to go–

Finally, at 7:15, I forced myself to get up. Good reasons be damned; discipline kept me working.

I didn't try stretching after I got out of bed since I didn't want a repeat of what had happened earlier in the morning. I looked to the open window and debated whether or not I should leave it open for the airflow. Nobody should get in throught them since they're barred, but I had my fears. Someone had broken into my house already, somehow, and it could happen again. I closed the window, deciding that having hot stale air waiting for me at home was better than having an intruder waiting for me.

I walked up to the wardrobe and opened it. I looked over the clothes I had since I didn't want to go out feeling completely exposed. However, all the clothes I had were more suited for colder weathers, and I'm pretty sure that I'd look ugly with or without them on. So, I didn't put on anything; no need to be ugly and sweaty.

I made my way downstairs, slightly irritated by the way the sweat on my fur and the heat. Stupid summer weather. The fridge's cold air was some respite from the weather as I pulled out bread, cheese, and milk for my third breakfast of the morning. I whipped up a little breakfast of a single cheese sandwich and a glass of milk and took it to the kitchen table. I took a small bite to see if I'd throw up again. If I did, I'd probably kill myself and go through the whole reincarnation thing where Voth hopefully puts me in a better body.

I didn't throw up as I had thought, letting me finally eat my breakfast. It wasn't filling in the slightest and I was still quite famished even after eating it, but I figured that I'd get something to eat on the way to work. Hopefully something sweet.

I checked my saddlebags after I finished breakfast, making sure I had my bit bag in them. I'd be getting a fan today, along with iron nails, and some sweet stuff as well. And a clock for downstairs, and the basement as well. Man, I have to get so much stuff.

I put down the bags next to the front door as I went back to the bathroom to brush my mane. I spent much more time on it than I should have, taking my time to braid it even though I had to be able to get to the pharmacy and then the library on time. Once that was done, I was on my way, walking as fast as I could, which was disappointingly not very fast.

At least there was a light breeze blowing and plenty of shade out here. It was almost nice. If only I had someone with me–

I shook my head clear of that thought with a grimace. Why was I so hellbent on not being alone? I had stayed alone for a huge chunk of my life at this point. Why was it becoming such a big deal now? Especially since I know that I can't keep people close easily. My period probably, I guessed. Man, I really need those period pills.

I continued onward, the sun slowly rising above the canopy of the trees around me, letting its light grace my left side, and its glare, my left eye. It might have been "pretty" to some but to me, it was just another annoying fucking thing right now. I resorted to just keeping my left eye close until I get somewhere where the sun isn't blinding it. Not like it was good for seeing much anyways.

However, even with only half — or rather, around three-quarters since my right eye did most of the seeing by itself — of my already bad vision, I still noticed someone coming up the path, towards me.

"Hey Brush," I stopped and greeted as she landed in front of me, holding a magazine in her paw. Secretly, I was also waiting for her to hug me like she would. (Don't tell anyone.)

"You were in a fashion show?!" she asked, her eyes wide like plates and her ears upright like trees.

"Huh?" It took me a second the process the question since I had not expected that, and Brush used that moment to open up the magazine to a page close to the front.

"This is you, right?" she asked, pointing to the picture second from the top. It showcased me standing at the end of the catwalk, looking like an absolute idiot. The rest were images of the others, in their good dresses in the case of five certain ladies. I couldn't really comprehend the fact that I was in a magazine at the moment, so, I decided to do that later.

I briefly considered saying that no, it wasn't me, but I threw that thought out like it was garbage, because it was garbage. I didn't want to lie to her, and the fact that I even thought about lying to her was a testament to how shitty I was.

"Yeah, that's me," I answered, finding the ground a lot more interesting than eye contact or the magazine all of a sudden.

Brush was silent for a moment, making me nervous. I hope she didn't laugh– she would never do that. I had to stop assuming bad things about my friends.

Brush didn't laugh like the intrusive thought had said. Instead, she squealed and grabbed me by my shoulders, making me look up to her. Her eyes were sparkling as she said, "You have to tell me all about it!"

"Okay," I replied, making Brush leave my shoulders. "We'll have to walk though."

"That's alright!"

She walked alongside me, to my right, holding her magazine now in her wing.

"So, how did you get into the show?" she began, still all excited and happy.

"Rarity was desperate," I answered bluntly, making Brush look at me with a raised brow. "She wanted more people in her show and decided that I could get in. It was on a pretty short notice as well; just three hours before the whole thing."

"Oh. So, how was it? Being on the stage, in the spotlight?" she asked, expecting me to gush about the experience if I were to go by her playful tone and smile.

"It sucked hard. Zero out of ten. Wouldn't do it ever again."

"Wuh?" Brush looked at me with a mix of confusion and what seemed to be concern. "Why... you didn't like it? It's every mare– nay, every women's dream! At one point at least."

"Not a dream I've had; I'm just built different," I joked dryly as I remembered how nervous I was on stage. It's a surprise that my heart didn't explode then from how hard it was beating. "And I doubt that it stays a dream when you're actually on the stage, walking down the catwalk as everyone around you is talking about you and... scrutinising every little detail about you."

"I can get why it would be nerve-wracking, but it wasn't that bad, right?" she asked, unknowingly making me a bit annoyed.

"It was. I don't look great and it was out there for the world to see," I said curtly, choosing to focus on the path instead of her. Suddenly, I comprehended the fact that the magazine had me in it, and that there were a lot of people who would have seen it by now.

"And now that it's in a magazine, it's actually out there for the world to see..." I continued out loud, stopping in place with my ears slowly drooping.

Just the thought of people seeing me looking like that twisted my stomach into knots. I should have just paid for the gems. There were probably people looking at the pictures, thinking 'damn, she looks fucking stupid' and I couldn't do any–

"Hey, Anya!" I was snapped out of my thoughts. I looked to my side and saw Brush had placed her paw on my shoulder and looked quite concerned. I looked away quickly and resumed walking down the path, flustered that I had a moment of weakness in front of her.

"Anya, is everything alright?" Brush asked as she caught up to me quickly, her earlier excitement all gone. I really should stop making her concerned like that.

"Sort of," I answered, not wanting to elaborate on what I was feeling. I should get over it anyway; my mistake's consequences were mine to suffer from.

Brush, being the blessing of a friend she was, didn't take that as an acceptable answer. She moved close to my side and draped her left wing over me. It felt nice having someone close. She shouldn't have to be so nice to me.

"Anya, are you... nervous about what people might think of you?" Brush asked.

"I–" I tried answering but found that I couldn't make a word come out all of a sudden. I took in a deep breath instead of trying to force an answer out. After I was sure that I could answer, I whispered without facing her, "I... am a bit nervous."

I was nervous, but not just a little bit like I had said. It was a half-truth, and she probably knew that as well, and although it wasn't a complete lie, I felt like shit for giving that as an answer. I doubt I'd feel better if I gave her the actual answer since I'd be making her deal with my problems that way.

"There's no need to be nervous, Anya. I'm sure that everybody thought that you looked pretty. Why else would they publish that picture in the magazine?"

"Accidentally, probably."

In hindsight, I should have remembered that Brush does not like negativity all that much — even if its a joke that nobody, not even I, found funny — and that she cares about her friends quite a lot, and that I should not have made that joke, around her at least. Therefore, I shouldn't have been surprised when she 'suddenly' left my side and came up in front of me, held my shoulders tight, and looked me in the eye as she asked, "Anya, what's wrong?"

The first thing I did in response was flinch away, involuntarily. The second was getting angry for a moment, also involuntarily. The third was letting the anger dissipate as I lowered my gaze to the ground, voluntarily. I shouldn't be angry; she was just worried about me after all.

"Sorry," I said in a low voice, feeling terrible and not looking up. I should've just stayed at home. "It's just that... I've not been having a great day so far."

Brush stayed quiet for a moment before pulling me into a quick hug. As she pulled away, she asked, "Is there any way I could help?"

"I don't think so," I replied, not having anything she could help me with, nor wanting to force her to help me. "I just– I just have to get to work. And get something to eat."

She nodded, and we were walking again, her wing draped over me. I didn't want her to spend more time than she needed to on me, but I had a feeling that if I told her to leave, she'd just insist on staying. Or maybe she'd take it the wrong way– She wouldn't; I wanted to punch my brain so bad for thinking that.

"Do you mind me asking why your day has been lacking?" Brush asked as we got closer to town.

I did mind her asking but I didn't say it. I didn't know whether or not women talked about their periods just like that. I tried my pony memories and came up only with memories of me feeling like shit for one and a half weeks and telling my ex-colleagues that I was just having a bad day. Never elaborating why since nobody ever asked, or talked much to me beyond work. I didn't know if that was good or not.

As I thought, the silence started becoming awkward to me. When I realised I had no other choice but to either keep quiet or lie, I decided to take the third option of just getting it over with. "I'm... I'm on my uh... I'm on my period, and uh it isn't great."

"Oh."

I didn't like that response. It was ambiguous. I didn't know if I had just said something normal or something weird, and I hated not knowing. Brush didn't retract her wing like I had expected her to do if she was weirded out, but maybe that was just her being nice. Even more ambiguity.

Finally, she said, "The mood swings must be particularly bad for you."

That answer, while not being direct, made it clear that I wasn't being weird, to Brush at least. I took a moment to breathe a sigh of relief before explaining my problem in more depth, "It's not the mood swings I'm worried about, it's the abdo–"

I hadn't even finished saying the metaphorical devil's full name before it had come to fuck me.

I almost doubled over as the dull pain in my abdomen flared at what was possibly the worst time it could have. Yet. I needed those fucking pills if I wanted to function. Unfortunately, the pharmacy was still not in sight. I held my abdomen with my right hoof, which didn't do much to alleviate the pain which was making me start tearing up. I doubted I could walk with the pain. I shoud've just stayed at home.

Beside me, Brush was quick to act. She pulled me to the side and made me sit down, freeing up my other front hoof and letting it hold my abdomen as well. It didn't help in much besides making it clear to an observer that I was in pain. Thankfully, it looked to me that we two were the only ones on this particular street. Nobody would see me like this. Nobody but Brush.

She was going to say something, probably offer some sort of help, but I interrupted her by getting back up onto my hooves. The pain was still there, yes, but so was the fact that I was looking weak and was close to having someone do my work for me, and out of the two, I'd rather deal with the pain. I winced and grit my teeth as the pain flared again for a second but I didn't sit back down.

Brush, obviously, didn't like seeing that. She put her paw on my shoulder and said, "Anya, y–"

"I'm fine," I said through gritted teeth, not letting her finish whatever she was saying. I took a step forward, and then another. The pharmacy was close, I could make it there.

"Anya, you can wait here. I can go and get what you ne–" she tried offering help again.

"I'm fine, Brush." I brushed her off again.

"But–" She tried again.

"I said I'm fine!"

I didn't pause my walking even though the regret for raising my voice at her filled my head. I had to keep walking. I couldn't just shout at her for trying to stop me and then immediately stop. Besides, I was used to pain and I knew that pushing through it was the best way to deal with it when I have to do something.

Brush didn't say anything else, making my heart sink a bit, but she walked with me. Though, she kept a little distance between us. I was too busy pushing through the pain to overthink that. I just hoped I didn't fuck up real bad. I probably did.

Eventually, after a walk that felt very tense to me, we reached the pharmacy. The pain had subsided somewhat, making it more manageable for me. I walked in while Brush didn't. Why would she, I was mean to her for no reason. I sighed internally, realising that I had probably– no, definitely fumbled yet another friendship. I could only frown at the classic me move even though I felt like I might cry. She was the closest friend I think I've ever had.

I swallowed my sadness and went up to the counter, telling the clerk what I needed. He got it for me and I gave him the hundred bits the bottle of period pills costed. I held them in my magic even though it hurt to. I left the building as quick as I had entered.

Waiting outside for me was Brush. She didn't seem angry or sad like I had thought, and it removed quite a lot of weight from my mind and heart. "You got what you needed, right?"

"Y– yes," I answered, looking over the bottle instead of looking at her. It was clear with white capsule shaped pills inside. I opened it, took one out, and swallowed it then and there, without any water. The effects of the pill obviously weren't immediate, but knowing that I had a solution to one of my problems now took some weight off my mind. I stowed the bottle in my saddlebags.

My mind, not content with me being happy, immediately added new weight by reminding me that I had been mean to Brush and that she was still here for me. I had to apologise for shouting at her.

"Brush, I..." I began, pausing as I realised that I hadn't thought out what I'd say exactly. I looked up to see her.

"What is it?" she asked, not a hint of anger in her voice. She looked at me with concern as the silence stretched.

"I''m sorry about shouting at you earlier," I finally said, unable to maintain eye contact as I did. Brush remained silent, making me continue, "I shouldn't have done that and–"

"It's alright."

Those two words were somehow the greatest thing I had ever heard. Yet it was hard to believe she'd let me off the hook like that.

She came up to my side and draped her wing over me while I stood there like an idiot statue. "You should be fine now, right?"

"Yeah," I answered, a little bit too loud for comfort. Brush clearly didn't mind the volume.

"Good," she replied with a smile. "Now, how about we head on over to Sugarcube corner? You did say you were getting something to eat, and it should be open about now."

At the mention of the bakery, my stomach reminded me that it wanted food. I was compelled to say yes even though I felt like I might be late to work if I did.

"Alright," I said, letting us go on our way.

The morning had gone decent so far, I suppose. I think I wouldn't be late to work, and even if I was, at least it was because something nice was going on. My stomach silently grumbled, taking my mind off those thoughts and back towards my plan for breakfast.

Author's Note

16w Au

The next chapter will probably not be released until after July 2024 ends. Let's see if I can get 90 likes by then ~~(impossible goal moment, ROFL)~~

Edit 1 Aug 24: guess who was wrong

Meanwhile, let's see if Anya learns to be more social by then (yet another impossible goal moment ROFLMAO)

ART TIME! Here's Anya with Voth:
Image source: https://www.deviantart.com/arandomlonelydude/art/Eye-Contact-With-The-Boss-1075024958

(Anya has hugged Voth — while he looked like that — numerous times during the story. She is, to put it simply, built different)

Pretty cool, right? I think I'll do Anya with Brush next. Whenever that happens.