Wonderful Lies, Fruitful Truths

Soarin walked down the streets of Canterlot with a mild pep in his step. Despite his outward demeanor, he felt like his insides were burning. He felt his hands nearly breaking into a tremble. Soarin had been on plenty of dates before; he had no reason to be nervous.

Besides, he and Trenderhoof had been texting since they had met the day before. They had a brief conversation yesterday, but it wasn’t nearly enough time to get to know each other.

He should think of this more as an interview than a date. This is just an outing to see if they’re compatible; that’s all this was. Soarin had no reason to worry.

Soarin looked onward, seeing Trenderhoof sitting at a bus bench. He scrolled through his phone, leaning in his hand.

Trenderhoof wore a crop top with a thin green jacket. The jacket had a fuzzy orange collar and sleeves. He looked stunning.

Soarin felt his heart flutter in his chest. He shook his head, slicking his hair back. He needed to stay mellow; he needed to seem chill.

“Hey.” Soarin greeted, shoving his hands in his pocket. Trenderhoof beamed, hopping from his seat.

“There you are! I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.” Trenderhoof joked, bumping his hip against Soarins. He snaked his arm through Soarin’s, attempting to hold his hand.

Soarin jerked his hand back, shoving Trenderhoof back. He blinked in surprise.

“Wow, you won’t hold your date's hand? I see how it is.” Trenderhoof playfully huffed, putting his hands on his hips. Soarin let out a nervous laugh.

“Well, you know how it is!” He excused. Trenderhoof teasingly rolled his eyes.

“Let’s get going; I don’t wanna miss our reservation,” Trenderhoof said, leading Soarin down the street.

Soarin stared at the restaurant that towered above him. It was 3 stories tall and covered in fancy decor. This was most definitely the most expensive building Soarin had stepped foot in.

“Come on!” Trenderhoof prodded, dragging Soarin inside. For such a skinny guy, he was surprisingly strong. He nearly knocked Soarin off his feet!

Soarin stared in awe. The inside was even fancier. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, lighting the room beautifully. This was definitely one of Canterlot’s higher-class restaurants. Soarin suddenly felt underdressed, his cheeks burning red. His white t-shirt now felt like a sign for everyone to stare at.

“Why did you say this was a casual date? I look dumb.” Soarin whispered into Trenderhoof's ear. He playfully patted Soarin’s arm.

“You look fine. No one is going to notice.” He reassured.

“I have a reservation under the name ‘Trenderhoof.’” He said to the lady. She flipped through a book, her eyes lighting up.

“Yes, of course, right this way.” She said, leading the pair away from the desk. Soarin kept his head low, avoiding the fancier people's eyes. Next to Trenderhoof, he looked like an under-classman

“Here you are!” The lady said, opening the doors to a balcony. It was spacious, big enough for Soarin to splay out on the floor, and still have plenty of space. In the middle of the balcony, there was a beautifully decorated table.

Soarin gazed over the railing. The view here was beautiful. The street lights and buildings below them illuminated their seats.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Trenderhoof thanked, politely shooing the lady off.

“How did you even get a table here?” Soarin asked in bewilderment. Trenderhoof chuckled.

“I’m a journalist. People practically beg for me to write about their establishments.” Trenderhoof explained. “It’s basically a ticket for good food.” He sat in his seat, flipping the menu open. He hummed to himself, curiously eyeing his options.

Soarin sat across from his date, flipping the menu open. He scrunched up his face. Everything here seemed far too fancy for his taste. Trenderhoof leaned forward, tapping some lettering.

“Try the salmon. I think you’ll like it.” Trenderhoof suggested. Soarin jerked the menu from under his hand.

“I know how to make decisions. I don’t need your help.” He spat. Soarin wasn’t a child; he could order for himself. Trenderhoof shrugged, looking back at the menu.

The waiter walked in, wearing a rather fancy suit. He smiled warmly at the duo.

“May I take your order?” He asked, preparing his notepad. Trenderhoof flipped his menu shut.
“I’ll have the black pepper steak. Well-done.” Trenderhoof ordered. “And a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.”The waiter nodded, scribbling away.

Soarin blinked in surprise. Trenderhoof really knew his stuff. The waiter turned his attention to Soarin. He fumbled with the menu, it nearly tumbling from his hands.

“I’ll have, uh…” Soarin pointed to a random array of words. “This! I’ll take this.”

The waiter leaned closer, eyeing what he was pointing at.

“Bold choice, sir.” He commented, jotting the order down. He took the menus, wistfully walking away.

Trenderhoof placed his elbows on the table, leaning into his hands. He batted his eyelashes.

“What do you do for work?” Trenderhoof asked with an adorable head tilt. Soarin slicked his hair back, leaning into his seat.

“I don’t usually tell people that on the first date.” He responded slyly. Trenderhoof scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Ugh, this again. Cut the tough guy bullshit. It makes you look dumb.” Trenderhoof stated. Soarin blinked in surprise.

“Tough guy act? I’m not acting!” Soarin defended. Trenderhoof let out a hearty laugh.

“You so are! Look at you; you’re wearing sunglasses. It’s night!” He pointed out. Soarin’s face began to burn. “I’ve been around guys like you. You act all tough to compensate for something.”

Soarin began to sputter over his words. He stood up, nearly knocking the chair from under him. His heart hammered in his chest, and his face burned. How dare he insinuate that he was fake? He was the real deal!

“I don’t have to take this from you!” Soarin shouted much too loud for his liking. Trenderhoof rolled his eyes once again.

“Alright. You can leave if you want.” He shrugged, crossing his arms. “I’m not here to reward bad behavior. You’re cute, but not that cute.”

Soarin glared at Trenderhoof. He stared, his unimpressed look unfaltering. Soarin’s gaze softened. This is exactly what led to Zephyr leaving him. He huffed, sitting back down. A knowing smirk stretched on Trenderhoof's face.

“Guys like you always come back.” Trenderhoof teased. “But if you want to have a chance with me, you need to stop being an ass. Alright?”

Soarin nodded, not meeting Trenderhoof's gaze. God, he felt like a child who’d been caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

“...Alright, sorry.” He apologized. “I’ll…I’ll try to be better.”

“I know being yourself can be hard. Let’s start with something small.” Trenderhoof reached his hand out, letting it rest on the table. He wiggled his fingers, urging Soarin to hold his hand.

Soarin hesitated, his fingers twitching nervously. All he had to do was hold his hand; it wasn’t a big deal. Soarin clasped his hand. This was…nice.

Trenderhoof’s hand was soft as if he had lotioned them regularly. He rubbed his thumb across his well-manicured hands.

The balcony doors gently opened, catching the pair's attention. The waiter carted in their food. Soarin didn’t let go of Trenderhoof's hand. It felt nice. Exhilarating, even.

The waiter picked up the plates, steam arising from them.

“Your food.” He stated, gently placing the food down. He quickly backed away, leaving the pair alone once again.

Soarin stared down at his food. Rich people sure had specific tastes because this looked disgusting. He couldn’t even tell what this was. It looked like some type of soup but with snail shells. What was this, escargot? It was even weirder that it was it was in a plate.

He prodded at the food, sticking out his tongue. Trenderhoof chuckled.

“I told you to try the salmon.” He teased. “Do you wanna split my steak?” He offered. Soarin quickly nodded. Trenderhoof began to get a rather hearty piece.

“What should I do with this? I can’t put the steak in this.” Soarin pointed to his disaster of a dinner. Trenderhoof looked at Soarin’s food and then over the balcony.

“Chuck it.” He said, tilting his head to the ledge.

“Are you sure?”

Trenderhoof shrugged, taking a sip of his overly fancy wine.

“Go for it. Sometimes you gotta do weird things for fun.”

Soarin picked up the plate, flipping it upside down. He heard the food splat on the ground below. It felt weirdly relieving. Trenderhoof placed the steak on his plate. He stared at Soarin lovingly.

“Now, tell me about yourself. The real you.”