Ding-a-ling! ♪♫

The door gently nudged the ceiling bell, indicating Gray Calx’s entrance in the Clover Mart. As the town newbie, shopping there was a first-time experience for the stallion.

Good thing he didn't have any trouble finding the old-timey general store. Not only was it a standout from the other nearby establishments, but also, architecture wise, it looked quite promising. The storefront had a recessed entry and was encompassed by display windows. The roof was indeed composed of those iridescent, dark green shingles Sweet Pint had mentioned. They made for a perfect match with the big four-leaf clover logo adorning the store banner. With its peculiar yet intriguing quarter circle shape, the whole building caressed the curves of the two crossing boulevards.

The interior had all the pizazz of the outside, with wood being the primary choice of material. Given Outer Grove’s placement in the heart of a thick forest, it made a whole lot of sense. The planks and overall woodwork had a maroon hue and still smelled of sap. The ceiling was low, but it didn’t feel claustrophobic. The merchandise, item displays, and isles of food were a-plenty, but it didn’t feel too encumbered. The whole place had a sense of disorganisation, but it didn’t feel like a ramshackle bazaar. It was the perfect balance between quaint and functional. A methodical mishmash, one might say.

A quick scan to make sense of this myriad of products, and Calx saw ice boxes in the back. Probably where frozen goods were to be found. On the right, behind the loaded shelves, was a section dedicated to small products of all kinds. There was an abundance of party supplies and crates of fireworks over there (maybe those Outer Grovians were a festive bunch?). A little further to the left was a menagerie of objects. Bags of food in bulk, gardening equipment, hardware tools, headgears, drapes of all colors, random pieces of furniture... There was even a large canoe leaning against the wall back there! No really, this bric-a-brac had no rhyme or reason to it. I guess this is why they call it a ‘general’ store, Calx couldn’t help but ponder.

He took a few steps forward and let his look wander from item to item, passively wondering how he’ll find what he needs. And quickly too. Sweet Pint made it quite clear that this store ceased all operations by 6 PM, which only left him with 10 meagre minutes to complete his shopping. Calx felt a little guilty at bothering the store owner with his less than subpar punctuality, especially since there were currently no other clients inside. He understood that kind of frustration all too well, having worked a good portion of his teenage years at Joe’s Donut shop. Nothing like preparing to close up for the night and having a last-minute buyer throw your routine out of whack.

A few seconds of scrounging later, and his idle thoughts were cut short by the jovial voice of a nearby mare.

“So sorry, didn’t see you there! I was in the back taking inventory. Nevertheless, welcome to the Clover Mart!” she chanted.

Calx was currently pacing around a shelf, trying to find toothpaste in the collection of hygiene products. Without prying his attention away from the small knick-knacks, he hailed an amiable welcome back at the shopkeeper.

“Hmmm. Can’t seem to recall having seen you before,” she mused after a short silence. “You’re a new face around here, aren’t you?”

“Oh uh, yeah. Yeah, it’s my first day in Outer Grove,” Calx admitted, a bit caught off-guard by the friendliness of the shopkeeper. “Heh, you’re not the first pony who noticed that I…”

His jaw dropped when he took a good gander at who he was talking to. The lady in question was behind the counter, leaning on a hoof, and offering a smile full of charm.

Whoa, admired his mind.

She was staring straight at him with those piercing green eyes. Two sparkly emeralds adorning a visage partially hidden behind a soft lock of hair, a brown mane that complemented her peach coloration flawlessly. She had a sea of freckles on her cheeks, and a paintbrush on both of her flanks.

If this was the mare Sweet Pint had called “cute” back at the bar, then she was spot on. It was no exaggeration: This pony must’ve had the best silhouette he’d ever laid his eyes upon. Her thin, slender curves married her sublime features to perfection. Her overall frame had the right balance between too skinny and too plump. She was astonishing; she was the very definition of eye candy. To say that she was an aspiration to standards of beauty everywhere was an understatement.

She’s pretty, thought a daydreaming Gray Calx. Super pretty, in fact.

It all happened so suddenly. But for a moment? For a microscopic amount of time in the grand scope of his life? Calx fancied doing something irrevocably stupid. His mind was overcharged on libido-fueled synapses, printing hundreds of ideas and hypotheticals a second. Most of them involved gathering his courage and temporarily doing away with his lack of confidence. A timeout in his world of self-doubts to pull an impulsive move straight out of Nowhere town.

He wanted to go talk to her. But not just talk to her. Really talk to her. Maybe even... Well, it was unbelievable that he even considered such tomfoolery, but just to be wild, just to play the devil’s advocate, what if he was to ask her out? Getting to know her first, and then popping the question down the line?

Obviously, this was all too crazy, hahaha... He had never done anything of the sort before; why would he flip flop on the matter? The love game was not his to play. Not to mention, he was in a completely different league. Stallions of his caliber, they had no business flirting with the likes of her.

And yet, trying as he might to pretend those feelings were nothing more than juvenile thoughts passing by, there was no denying that she had sparked something in him. Something that made his heart pump just a little faster, his forehead just a little sweatier, and his smile curve upward just a little more. Maybe it was due to his do-over in life? Maybe the air of Outer Grove had a flair of je-ne-sais-quoi in it? Maybe Sunstone couldn’t love, but Gray Calx could? Whatever the reason was, something was genuinely cooking inside of him. In the same second it took him to build up the dream and immediately tear it down, a great realization culminated:

He had been lovestruck.

And it was such a good feeling.

WHAM – CRRRASSSHHH!!

Distracted, what had to occur, occurred.

Calx didn’t even realize he had been instinctively moving forward the whole time he was eying her. He was too busy being head over heels, lost in a touchy-feely world full of smooches and snuggles. Consequently, without paying attention to where he was going, the collision with the tall sunglasses display was unavoidable. It tilted, falling onto a shelf of pots and pans. Like a Rube Goldberg machine gone wrong, the large stock pot at the end got catapulted in the air, ending its parabolic course on a crate of oranges, which split open and let hundreds of fruits enjoy their newfound freedom by rolling everywhere.

It was loud. It was cacophonous.

It was embarrassing.

When the dust settled, Calx could be seen hiding behind a hoof, his upper set of teeth digging into his lips. He did a few timid coughs, his ears receding onto his neck.

“Uuuuuhhh,” he droned, “so, do I get a mulligan here, or is this going to stick as far as first impressions go?”

The mare behind the counter was completely mute, stunned by the Kafkaesque series of events that took place in her store. All she could do is blink her stupor away.

That was, until she exploded in a fit of laughs. It wasn’t a laugh of mockery though: She was genuinely amused by Calx’s antics. Buuut, that didn’t make the poor stallion feel any less flustered. It took him a lot of effort to not just book away, change town, and never think of Outer Grove again. He became completely red, his front legs almost buckling under the weight of his shame.

“Heh, you’re kind of a goofball, aren’t you?” said the one who witnessed his shameful display.

“I’m surprised that didn’t turn out to be my special talent,” he improvised, humor being his best and last line of defense.

She silently chuckled a bit more. “My name is Skybrush. And who might this goofball be?”

“Name’s, uh... I’m Gray Calx, ma’am. I’m 28 years-old, I know a thing or two about rocks, and bumping into displays is my favourite pastime.”

“Oh yeah? What a coincidence! Mine is observing clumsy clients pick up their mess.”

Both of them shared a good, honest laugh. All in all, this mishap was resolved in good spirits, and Calx began atoning for his accident by putting the knocked over display back in place.

As he foraged for a few stray oranges in front of the register, his ears lifted up to the sound of a door being brashly pushed open. Even Skybrush jumped a little. The source of the nuisance came from behind the counter, exactly where she had made her entrance. Except this time, it wasn’t a mare who came from the back store: It was a pale red stallion who barged his way in. He sported a beige buzzcut mane supplemented by two cyan irises. Just like Skybrush, he too had neither horn nor wings.

If there was one thing to get from this new guy, it definitely was his patience – or rather, his lack thereof. He looked absolutely fed up, his baggy eyes telling all about the sleep he seriously lacked.

Both Calx and Skybrush turned to look at him. The lad’s barrel was inflating and deflating with intensity, and his frustrated breath could be heard from blocks away. His anger was so palpable, Calx figured he was one step away from bursting a blood vessel.

“Alright!” shouted the irate stallion. “I give up! I’m done!”

“W-what?” timidly spluttered Skybrush, her ears falling flat on her head. “W-w-what’s happening, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart? Calx repeated in his head. Hol’ up- Isn’t that a term usually reserved for couples? As in, ponies united under the bells of love and what not?

“I tried to make the baby sleep, but she just keeps crying, whaaa, whaaa! I’ve had enough!” informed grumpy reddie with the same aggressive tone.

Oh, a baby, eh? Probably what caused all those distant wailing noises. Calx could definitely hear them now that the back door had been left ajar. Seems like her cries came from somewhere upstairs, and by the sound of it, she was pretty dang upset, yikes!

All in all, the baby’s presence pretty much settled the score: Grouchy Mc. Grouch Face was indubitably Skybrush’s hubby. These two were a duo, life partners, a match made in heaven, etc... So much so that mommy and daddy got busy under the blankets, pooled their respective DNA together, and created life. There were no stronger indicators to prove that Skybrush wasn’t single and looking.

Calx chuckled to himself. His love at first sight sure came a few years too late. How naive it was of him to think he stood a chance to begin with.

Welp, that crush was pretty short lived, he silently conceded, graceful in his defeat. Ah well, what can you do. Plenty of fish in the sea, so they say.

As he submitted to his ‘it is what it is’ ways, Skybrush, on the other hoof, was far from being all too chipper. In fact, she took a few steps back, putting a bit more distance between her and the one she apparently loved oh so much.

“W-well... D-did you- did you give Honey Dream her antibiotic for her otitis, l-like Dr. Stethorsecope prescribed ?”, she said with a shaky voice. “You know that, um, that her ears hurt a lot...”

“Yes, well, so do mine!” he retaliated. “I got her to drink her syrup alright, but that little monster is still crying her heart out! Do I have to write a symphony to keep her quiet? Ugh, I don’t know what else I can do to calm her down, so I’m tapping the heck out for the night, okay!?”

This whole time, Gray Calx had remained silent and kept to his orange picking task. For a moment, he almost considered taking Skybrush’s defense – not because he wanted to be her valiant knight in shining armor, but because nopony deserved to be talked to this way. Ultimately, he decided to keep his interjections to himself. A total stranger butting into a spicy argument was not only socially uncalled for, but it was also the most effective way of making their problems his. Not to mention, he had already argued with princess Celestia this morning; one conflict per day was more than enough.

The baby – or in the dad’s own words, ‘that little monster’ – went into another fit of screams, taking her volume to a whole new level.

“There she goes again! Yeah, I’m outta here,” said the husband, brusquely brushing past his wife.

“Where... Where are you going?” Skybrush wondered, not even daring to look at him.

“Whaddaya think? At the Two Arches! I need a freakin’ drink to reduce my headache. How about you try to give that cry-o-ton her nap for a change, see how you like-”

He stopped himself from berating his wife any further, and instead drew his attention to Gray Calx. Or more likely, to the isles behind him in complete disarray. He noticed the many kitchenware shelves off their brackets, the floor laden with oranges, and the overall state of disorganization this corner of the store had been left in. He took it all in, each misplaced item making him grit his teeth more than the last.

“Hey, you!” he shouted in Calx’s direction. “Did you make that awful mess!? What’s wrong with you! You better clean that up, or else!”

“I’m on it, I’m on it!” repeated Calx, rapidly sweeping a platoon of oranges with his foreleg into a paper bag. “I’ve got this!”

“Well, make it snappy then! We close in five minutes for crying out loud! Don’t you know that!?”

“I said I’ve got this.”

Calx had replied as sternly as he could without entering conflict territory – a defiant vibe that didn’t go over Mr. Killjoy’s head. He squinted at the pony on the floor; the pony squinted right back. They kept their antagonistic visual exchange for a few seconds, silent and motionless. In the end, the impatient store owner harrumphed. He resumed his walk to the front door, saying nothing else to his dearest Skybrush. He slammed the door behind him, nearly breaking the bell in the process. The last thing they heard before he left was a mumbled ‘didn’t sign up for this crap.’

...

“Little ray of sunshine, ain’t he?” Gray Calx quirked to break the awkward silence.

Skybrush was staring into pure nothingness. Calx could’ve sworn he saw her attempting to smile at his obvious ice breaker, but it waned away as rapidly as it came.

“H-he’s not... He’s usually not that bad,” Skybrush protested, unable to look at her client. “You’ve just, um, caught him on a bad day. You gotta understand, our two-year-old daughter has an ear infection, and it’s been a bit difficult to appease her lately. S-so, heh, i-it’s not my husband’s fault if he’s a little moody, really. He’s actually a very, um... a very nice guy.”

“Uh huh.”

Skybrush looked down, a wry expression on her face. “No, no, I’m serious. He’s not- He... It’s me. I’m... I’m the problem, heh. I could be doing more. A lot more.”

Calx wasn’t having any of that. No father worth his name would label his own flesh and blood with all those degrading nicknames. Heck, even his own father never went this far when he was instilling discipline in the family household. No, really, something just wasn’t right. It was sad to see Skybrush take this kind of abuse as if her spouse was infallible, as if being mistreated in public like this was the norm, as if getting a daily dose of verbal violence was fine and dandy. Indubitably, this relationship reeked of toxicity; a realization that left Gray Calx a bit more despondent than expected.

But what could he do about it, really. He was but a mere pony, after all. A pony who already endured enough familial havoc in one lifetime. Whatever was happening between the two shopkeepers was for them to sort out, without his unneeded input to turn the tide. It’s not like he held the solution to their problems anyway.

Gray Calx was broken out of his moment of reflection by the foal’s tantrum. Still upstairs, still parentless, she let the two ponies know of her displeasure by upping the ante with her many shrieks.

Skybrush nervously stared at the ceiling. “I, um... W-would you excuse me, Sir? I really- I need to go upstairs. My little Honey Dream needs me... I-is it okay if I leave you to it for a moment?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” he shrugged off. “I can always come back another day if it’s more conven-”

“NO!” she immediately protested. “I mean, no, it’s okay. It’s alright. It’s your first day here, and I don’t want you to think that... Well, just, uh, just put your items on the counter, and I’ll do the check out in... Um, give me 10-15 minutes, if it’s okay?”

He nodded. She bolted.

Now alone in an empty Clover Mart, Calx figured he could at least use this downtime to finish cleaning up. With idle thoughts running wild in his head, he couldn’t help but notice that, in waiting for Skybrush, his presence would spill after their closing hours. Well, if she was alright with this, then so was he.

But boy, it sure has been a long day. Waking up early, packing his stuff, changing his name, having a one-on-one with princess Celestia, spending over six hours of commuting, meeting an abrasive barmare, renting a hotel room, being enamored with a crush, giving up on said crush, witnessing a conjugal fight... It was a bit much. It felt like a lifetime ago since he rose out of bed. He had started his day being so angry, but now? He was more mellow than molasse.

As his reserves of energy grew weary, a sardonic Calx couldn’t help but wonder what else Outer Grove had in stock for him. Because, for a town where, allegedly, “nothing ever happens,” it sure was brimming with strange encounters. Maybe this was all part of his entry tax, with the peaceful lifestyle he was yearning for waiting just around the corner?

Here’s hoping.

I have to admit, it’s been... It’s been rough.

Sigh...

If you told me a few weeks ago that we would be exactly where we’re at today, I would’ve laughed in your face. N-not to be rude or anything, mind you! Just, um, I would’ve found those kinds of predictions utterly unbelievable. I don’t see any way I could’ve been convinced.

Being convinced of what, exactly? Well, of everything, really! I mean, look around: Can’t you see how much it all spiralled down out of control? It all came so fast, so unexpectedly. And through this period of extreme adversity, I’ve lost touch with my own reality, floundering to figure out who I was supposed to be anymore. Ever since those two gargantuan monsters invited themselves into our quiet little borough, it’s been nothing but hardships after hardships. Everything has changed. Everything has been turned in over its head. Everything has gone to Tartarus.

Yesterday was the worst of it all, somehow. I couldn’t help but feel partially responsible for that.

Okay, that’s not entirely honest. The truth is, last evening, I definitely dropped it. Because I... I did something awful. The way I acted has been so reprehensible, so scandalous, that it was nigh impossible to not look back at what I had done in pure disgust. At that crucial moment where I should’ve stopped and listened to that little voice in my head, I exploded in an unprecedented fashion. I had so much to deal with, and so much came at once, and... I lost it. I lost it big time.

It took me a night of tossing and turning to even comprehend what the hay had just happened. Waking up in cold sweat between two nightmares, that’s when I fully grasped the consequences of my actions. Almost as if I had an epiphany. It all came crashing down. Everything at once, realisations after realisations.

How I broke something wonderful I had going for myself. How I soiled a beautiful friendship. How I drove a wedge between my best friend and myself. How I lost one of the ponies I cared for the most.

How I sent Gray Calx away.

I sent my goofball packing, lost, broken, and wholly unprepared. He pleaded for my forgiveness, and at his lowest, when he needed me the most, I scoffed at him and told him to go at it alone. W-what kind of support is that? What kind of so-called friend acts as ungracefully as I did?

I mean... I know it’s no justification, but at the time, I wanted nothing to do with Calxie and, overwhelmed by motherly instincts of protection, strived to put as much distance between him and my daughter. Plus, I didn’t know how to handle years and years of lies from a friend whose real name, as it turns out, I didn’t even know!

A friend, yes, but a friend who came a hair’s breadth away from... f-from quitting on me forever. I think that’s what got to me the most. Reveals like these were too shocking for a pony with my background to properly absorb. Anything on the topic of abandonment, I just, I can’t. It’s too painful of a wound to reopen. It drains my composure and sends me completely berserk. It turns me into a whole different mare. It leaves me stranded in this very dark place, consumed by thoughts I dare not speak of...

But now, with a bit more time to think behind me, I realize how big of a mistake I’ve made! Calxie was in a pitiful state when I strongly suggested for him to skip town. If only I had remained poised, if only I had tabled this inappropriate nighttime discussion, if only I had invited him to crash for the night, then... then we could’ve talked like two adults the next morning! Things wouldn’t have escalated the way they did! I wouldn’t have wrapped things up by throwing that cruel ultimatum in his face!

Oh, my poor Calxie... What have I done to you...

Sigh... I-I have to confess. In less than a day, I immediately felt it.

The void.

I hadn’t felt that void in so long. I thought the void was well in the past, but it never really left, didn’t it? It was just biding its time, waiting to pounce back at me when I was fragile and helpless. When it resurged, I knew what it was. I recognized it on the dot. The void groped me, the void hog-tied me... the void became me.

That stupid void...

I had to fight back. I wanted to, I tried to, but I couldn’t. I never could.

In my pitiful mental state, I felt so alone, so afraid. I was powerless, miserable, spineless, and every other derogatory term to describe a pony who had lost their spark. The result? I caved in and filled up the void the only way I knew. I spent the whole day filling up the void. Patching up the damage with the most abhorrent gauze a mare of my size could find. Like a bottomless pit, never to be satiated.

It felt good. Then it felt not-so-good. Then it felt bad.

And now it felt downright terrible.

Two years. I had lasted two years. Two years without binging until I cried. A streak so easily broken. I thought of myself as a capable adult, one that could uphold resolutions with undying conviction. I thought I had turned the page on my self-destructive habits. But I guess I was just pretending to be something else this whole time, wasn’t I? Under that repulsive physical envelope of mine, under that thick layer of useless cellulite, was a sad, pathetic, gross pony who was only good at eating her problems away.

That was my true self. An inflated mockery of what a pony should even look like, one that turned her back on a friend in need. A failure who could only derive temporary happiness from sugary treats.

At the rate I was driving my entourage away, I was probably going to die alone as the unlovable fat cow that I was. And I will have only myself to blame for it.

This surge of anxiety at least proved itself useful by finally separating me from my living room couch, where I’ve been busy doing absolutely nothing. Indeed, today has been a total waste. All I’ve managed to accomplish was gorging, worrying, and procrastinating.

I kept the general store closed for the day. Knowing that The Clover Mart played an important role in the lives of Outer Grovians out there, disrespecting my traditional business hours has done nothing but triple my guilt. Plus, with the high demand in supplies caused by the repairs all across town, my spur-of-the-moment decision couldn’t have come at a worse time.

Despite everything pointing in the opposite direction, I couldn’t in good faith handle any of my shopkeeping duties. Not to mention, today was a Thursday, and Thursdays had no part-timers scheduled to give me a hoof. I would’ve had to take care of everything on my own, something that I just could not realistically do at the moment. Therefore, the Clover Mart remained inoperative for the day. I, uh... S-sorry for the inconvenience, I guess. I really hope I haven’t disappointed anypony any further than I already have...

I took a disinterested glance at the wall-mounted clock in the kitchen. The hour hand had just passed 10. I put Honey Dream to bed sometime around eight, then tried to catch some sleep myself. Unfortunately, plagued with insomnia, my attempt at catching some Z’s proved unsuccessful. Plus, reminiscing about the badness of yesterday, it made me want to... double check. Just to make sure that, um...

... I silently trotted through the bedroom hallway, pried open the white door at the end of it, and peeped an eye inside. With the ambient moonlight, I could see my little angel snuggled under her blanket, a rabbit plushie clutched between her hooves. She was fast asleep and, judging by her smile, dreaming of wonderful things.

This was the third time I’ve checked on her since I sang that favorite lullaby of hers. I don’t know why I felt the need to make sure she was still where I left her. It’s like, if I stopped periodically keeping an eye on Honey Dream, she too would disappear on me forever. I knew this was a preposterous idea, but after she found herself way too close to bear and fire, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. It never hurts to be a little excessive, right?

I mean, I don’t know. I really don’t know. Maybe I needed to talk to somepony... Maybe I needed a bit of company to vent some of my torments away. But ooooh, I so didn’t want to leave my lil’ Honey bee all alone! Call me overprotective, but what if something else happened to her, and for the third time, I wasn’t present to keep her safe? I couldn’t count on my goofball forever to keep the danger at bay, especially after the falling out we’ve had between the two of us. How could I leave my only child unattended after everything she’s been through? How irresponsible would that be? First, a bad friend, and now, a bad mother? This wasn’t a new low I could sink to!

...

I couldn’t leave things as they were. This wasn’t healthy. I couldn’t see myself relying on more junk food to keep my depressive thoughts in check. I had been there before, and at my current age and weight, I don’t think I could afford another journey into destroying my health any further. I already had a hoof in the coffin: I simply had to snap out of it and pull myself up. This was the only way forward.

Now I understood why Calx said he couldn’t tackle the crux of his problems without the helping hoof of a friend. It really takes being in his horseshoes to fully soak in what trying to climb out of the pit of despair entails. I guess on top of everything, that also made me a hypocrite.

... Well, there’s no time like tomorrow, I suppose. What needed to be done, needed to be done.

I’m sorry, my sweet little baby. Mommy will be back real soon, I promise.

It took me a lot of self-persuasion to leave the vicinity of the Clover Mart. I weighed the pros and cons for another good thirty minutes before I gave up and ran outside. “Honey Dream will be ok” is what I kept looping in my brain to censor all of those improbable what-ifs from clouding my better judgement. In fact, going uptown through the quiet streets, I hadn’t stopped repeating that phrase in my head. Now, it may sound like my sanity was hanging by a thread, but I simply had to keep my mantra going. It was the only thing that prevented me from turning around!

Oh, what a relief when the Two Arches finally greeted me with its presence after I scaled the last flight of stairs! A beacon of hope in the darkness, with its burnt orange-lit windows promising warmth and coziness. With my objective in plain view, it became obvious that it was too late to fold my cards. I had made it this far, right?

I breathed in, gathered my confidence, kept the air in my lungs like a brave mare... and then looked down, exhaling with the sorriest whimper known to ponydom.

C-come on Skybrush! Don’t be a coward! You were just there to talk, remember? You needed this! It was either that, or going back to your stupid eating disorder. Seeking help, or heart diseases? ... Well? What’s it going to be? Seemed simple enough of a choice. So take your pick already, you undeceive oaf!!

“O-okay!” I said, trying to motivate myself. “You can do this!”

Going all in, determined, I pushed the door open and went inside the tavern.

First thing I noticed was how busy it was. Only a few seats had been left unclaimed. And the noise! The many voices of the townsfolk merged into a loud, nondescript soundscape. Through the deafening background noise, mugs clanked, stools rattled on the floor, orders were barked in the back by... by Sweet Pint! Aaah, there she was, exchanging bits for filled-up tankards behind the bar counter! Calxie notwithstanding, she was one of my most trusted allies, and the one I really needed tonight.

But, um, she looked incredibly busy. Ooh, this was a bit unfortunate. Maybe I oughtn’t bother her? Y-yeah, that’d be rude. I should p-probably just try my luck another day. So, um, I guess, time to turn around and-

“Oh! Sky! Come over here!” said a brash voice above all the noise.

Recognizing the timbre, I tilted my neck back and saw Sweet Pint waving at me, inviting me to take the empty spot in front of her.

W-well, I guess that settles it. N-no way out, now!

I pulled back the vacant stool and politely sat between two male patrons I couldn’t be bothered to recognize. The majority of the drinkers here wore construction uniforms, which was more or less what I had expected. Admittedly, it was a bit hard not to feel out of place. Good thing Sweet Pint was there to make me feel like I wasn’t a complete outlier. She even offered me a friendly look, extinguishing a good chunk of my social anxiety.

“Quite a surprise to see you here, beautiful!” she welcomed me with glee. “Thought those fancy schmancy nostrils o’ yours couldn’t stand the smell o’ booze or something like that?”

I looked left and right, making sure my neighbors didn’t catch that. “Oh. Well, you’re not wrong. I still kinda do.”

“Ouch, you hurt me so,” she feigned offense. “Can’t say I blame ya, to be fair. What with that sleazebag ex o’ yours, heh.”

... Um. Yeah, I, um... I-I’d rather not get too much into the details of-

“Still though,” thankfully moved on the barmare, “what brings ya to the Two Arches all on your lonesome? S’rare to catch a glimpse of my favorite painter around these parts. Y’know, outside of special occasions like parties and such.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “To tell the truth, I’m ah... I’m not too sure myself? I guess I was down to see other ponies for a change, b-because I had trouble sleeping, you see. So I figured, might as well go out, take a walk, refresh my mind a bit, uh...”

“Sky, you doin’ okay there?” she said, immediately discerning my poorly hidden sour mood.

The suddenness of my friend’s question made me look up from the counter. She was staring at me, a skeptical eyebrow raised. Under her investigative gaze, my ears drooped.

Yeah, I was in it now. I just thought I had more time to... Well, what was I expecting, really? Now or thirty minutes down the line, what difference did it make? It was going to sting either way. So, may as well rip off the band-aid and lay it all out. She asked, after all. Making an overworked barmare waste her valuable time by weaseling away from the truth like an inconsiderate fool? Thanks, but no thanks.

“Am I doing okay? ... No. No, I don’t think I’m doing all too good at the moment,” I eventually admitted.

I felt so ashamed at having answered an innocent ‘how do you do’ with honesty. Usually, social norms dictate that you’re not supposed to dwell too much on such banal questions. Going against the grain was just asking for trouble.

Naturally, Sweet Pint didn’t expect a negative response. Told you so! If she was bubbly mere seconds ago, now, her jovial expression had turned into a stone-cold poker face. Almost as if she swallowed the next joke she had on the tip of her tongue. Not because I killed her vibe, but because she didn’t particularly enjoy seeing me feel crestfallen.

“What’s eating you, bud?” she asked, discernibly concerned.

Oh wow. ‘Eating.’ Too fitting. I didn’t know why that specific word made me cringe, but it sure left a non-negligible impact. Or maybe it was the prospect of having to explain myself that made me somewhat hesitant? Either way, I swallowed dryly, for a reply was inbound.

More nervous than before, I looked away, and said, “It’s about... It’s about Gray Calx.”

Sweet Pint brought a hoof between her closed eyes. “Wait- Hang on. Hold the quill. Gray dude’s the one who dropped an anvil on your noggin?”

I nodded.

...

“That schmuck!” she suddenly shouted. She even slammed her hooves on the counter, which made me jump a little. “Nopony has seen that light headed buffoon in days, literal days!! Last time I was with the boy was when he ran away from us during the Ursa attack. I mean, what’s up with that, right!? Why, I oughta make him eat dirt for bailing on us and then going radio silent!”

She was riling herself up, her face becoming redder by the second. She even went as far as showing her clenched-up teeth! Even though she was smaller than your typical earth pony, she could be... a bit much when she was in the middle of a passionate rant. Feeling like she was going a bit too far, I wanted to find a way to keep her temper down. However...

“Like, am I the crazy one, here!?” she raised her tone even more. “Even Mr. G – you know, his very own boss – even him, he came here a few times to ask me where in Tartarus his best employee disappeared to. Told me he knocked on his door a few times, but was never answered. How rude is that? And who skips work without advising anypony anyway? I’ll tell you who: Gray dude! Ooh, next time he rocks up for a bev, I’ll SO knock some sense into that stupid, moronic, brainless-”

“His house burned down.”

... Well that sure made her stop talking. The redness left her face in an instant, leaving room for two appalled eyeballs. She tried to dissimulate her surprise the best she could, but I could see that this new piece of information had pierced her thick skin. Totally blindsided by a not-so-insignificant detail she most certainly did not expect.

“T-that was him?” she said, quiet, cautious, and careful. “Calx was the one who...?”

“Huh? What do you mean, Sweet Pint?”

“Sweet Celestia, I thought these were just silly rumors, but...” she trailed off a bit, then shook her head to regain her composure. “I caught some small talk today about a residential dwelling that went out in flames, but figured it was nothin’ but gossipers trying to capitalize on the fearmongering the bears brought to Outer Grove. I had no idea that... I mean... Damn. I-is that why Calx’s been absent lately? ... Is... Is he, um...”

At first, I didn’t really understand where she was getting at, but then, it hit me. It shouldn’t have taken me this long to figure it out.

“Oh!” I jolted. “No, he’s not... He’s ok! He’s alright! Well, relatively speaking.”

She exhaled cathartically. “Ah. Cough... Well alright then. That’s good. That’s really good!”

I could see a literal weight lifted off her shoulders. Rare were the times where you could catch her untensing. When she noticed that I noticed, she swiftly returned to her sassy persona, her traditional bothered expression reigning supreme once more.

“N-not that I cared, hrmmph!” she groaned. “Doesn’t cost anythin’ to make sure though, right?”

Since she wasn’t giving me any wiggle room to argue, I found myself agreeing. Trust me, it was simpler that way.

“So,” she resumed with an awkward cough, “where’s our survivor knockin’ about then? I assume he must be feeling a bit adrift, what with having lost his roof and everything. Again, not asking cuz I care. Just, y’know... How’s your goofball holdin’ up? You givin’ him a hoof, I would imagine?”

Yes Skybrush, why don’t you amuse her? Where WAS your goofball indeed? And what about his mood? Think maybe your bestie was currently feeling like prancing in a field full of daisies?

Away and surly. Sent packing and embittered by a sorry excuse of a friend.

There was your ‘where’ and ‘how.’ This is precisely what I had to tell Sweet Pint, which I would’ve done if it weren’t for that annoying roadblock in my throat. It’s not like I haven’t managed to stay honest thus far anyway, so what was the holdup now? All I needed was to expose how bad of a pony I’ve been. Piece of cake, right?

... If only things were so simple.

In reality though, instead of articulating anything remotely close to a sentence, my eyes decided to become moist with water. Yup, I was breaking down alright. I had kept my deterministic charade for far too long already, and my artificially induced courage was on its last leg. It was rather sad to see how little I’ve lasted before I couldn’t find my voice anymore...

A tear rolled down my right cheek, followed by an undignified sniffle. It was so embarrassing to be all emotive in the middle of a crowded area like this. I already had so much to cope with; being humiliated by acting like a big crybaby in front of all those macho alcohol enjoyers wasn’t the cherry I wanted on my sundae.

Not willing to expose this moment of weakness, I hid my wet visage behind my front hooves, silently hiccupping.

I felt Sweet Pint edging closer. “Sky...? Are you-”

“Oooh, Sweet Pint, I’ve been awful to him!” I bawled outwardly. “Calxie came to me, seeking my trust, but I turned my back on him! And then... A-and then it happened again! I had a terrible relapse! I fell back into another disgusting binge to feel better, but now, but now I feel so grossed out at myself, and... and I’m so nervous, I’m so lost, and I don’t know what to do anymooore!!”

Gah, oh my gosh! I can’t believe I pitched a tantrum like thiiiis!! Me! A grownup who had a foal under her care! I was supposed to be way past this kind of childish behavior!

The last thing I wanted tonight was to turn into an incoherent sobbing mess, but here we are, I guess. I knew it was no excuse, but keeping my cool has been extremely challenging. I tried, I really did! But in the end, my efforts were in vain, for the dam had burst open and all I could do was to let the tidal wave of strong emotions sweep me until there was nothing left to cry about.

When I looked up to see how Sweet Pint would respond to my blatant lack of maturity, I realized that she had moved away, her head now poking halfway through the backdoor to the kitchen.

“Oi!” she shouted. “I need one of you slackers to handle the front for a while! Something came up and I’ll be indisposed for a good chunk of the night, m’kay?”

“B-b-but Pinty,” an unseen scaredy pony protested, “t-t-the kitchen is about to close, a-and we need to-”

“Whatever it is you’re about to say, zip it, cuz I don’t care! I have an emergency to deal with! Y’all can flip hayburgers on your next shift, but ‘til then, I want somepony behind the counter, NOW. Do I make myself clear, or do I need to crack a few skulls to get my point across!?”

I heard a gulp. “O-Okay Pinty. W-we’ll take care of it.”

“S’what I thought!”

As soon as she was done, um... strongly “encouraging” her team, she trotted through the swinging service entrance of the counter and went to my right. With a head nudge, she invited me to get up.

“C’mon girl, let’s go upstairs and talk in private. This dining room is too dang noisy.”

“Okay...” I whispered, lethargic and resigned.

At this point, I couldn’t care less about how unpresentable I looked, let alone where I was being taken to. Just like an innate puppet, I allowed Sweet Pint to guide me towards the staircase. No longer was my brain in control of my actions. No longer was my consciousness aware of my surroundings. The world around me straight up became a different reality, and the only thing I could focus on was trying to jury-rig my state of depersonalization back to normal. I was stuck in a catatonic rut, with my soulless shell of a body following my friend’s instructions on pure instincts alone.

The only thing that kept me somewhat grounded was reminding myself that tomorrow would make today yesterday. Ugh, why did now have to be now? I was so envious of future me, because that Skybrush already had all of this behind her. If I could leap forward to any point ahead of the present, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

Alas, I was well aware that this wasn’t how real life worked. No, rather, powering through whatever was in the pipeline for me was the only way I’d get a sense of closure. After all, I was about to receive free advice from a loyal friend who’s always had my back. I just hoped I was sufficiently receptive to listen to any of it.

I was invited to sit on the bed of an unoccupied bedroom. With no desire to protest, I followed through and sat on my haunches onto the wool blanket. Meanwhile, Sweet Pint had gone to the small adjacent bathroom to tidy herself up a bit. It was understandable: The intensity of tonight’s shift had done a number on her mane, and left her coat pretty scrappy as well. Being at her best was the only way she could handle a heavy mare with heavy problems.

I politely waited for her to be done, tossing occasional glances toward the nearby window. I couldn’t help but look in the direction of the Clover Mart, as if I even had a chance to see it from this distance. I hadn’t stopped thinking about my daughter for one second, and my futile visual scouting did nothing but elevate my lingering discomfort.

... Honey Dream will be ok.

At some point, I heard the sink tap being turned off, and into the room re-emerged the spruced up barmare. She gently embarked on the bed as well, sitting to my right. She stayed quiet for a bit, probably testing the waters with me. All that was audible were the muffled voices of the happy-go-round ponies a floor below.

“Tell me everything,” she sternly broke the silence.

Straight into it, I see. Um… Well, she was never one to dance around the subject.

“It’s… It’s kind of a long story,” I admitted.

“Ain’t a problem. I’ve got the time.”

I heaved a helpless sigh, as if preparing to do something physically taxing, which, I don’t know, maybe it was going to be? Opening Ponydora’s box certainly was no walk in the park.

I suppose there was no reason to not spit it out anymore. So, uh, here goes nothing.

“Okay so... Earlier before, I um, mentioned that Calxie came to seek my guidance. Well, that sort of happened yesterday, right in the middle of the night. After I was awakened by my doorbell, I was greeted by a pony in pretty bad shape. I’ll spare you the details, but basically, after chatting for a bit, he started talking about... a lot of stuff. And I mean, a lot of stuff. Far too much for me to retell without omitting important details. I will say, though, that there is one thing – one specific thing – that became increasingly obvious as he went on and on with everything he had to unpack.”

I took a short pause here, not for dramatic effects, but because I was unsure if sharing secrets without asking for permission first counted as a form of betrayal toward Gray Calx. Probably a moot point, however, since the barmare had no intention of letting me back down.

“He... he has skeletons in his closet, Sweet Pint. And I’m afraid there’s a lot we don’t know about him.”

“Sh’yeah, I getcha,” she rolled her eyes. “You tried to get him to talk about his ma and pa, for instance? Or ask him what he was doin’ before ploppin’ down in the middle of nowhere? The boy always deflects with random subjects anytime he’s put on the spot. He thinks we don’t notice, but we do!”

“No but it’s- It’s even worse than that! We don’t even know half of it! Like uuuuhh- Oh! For instance, did you know that he changed his name before coming here? On the very day he moved out? He used to be known as Sunstone.”

Sweet Pint tilted her head. “Sunstone, you say? ... Hrmmm. Odd.” She scratched her chin. “Feels like I’ve heard that name before, though I can’t quite put my hoof on where and when.”

“And how about this! You remember how princess Twilight Sparkle came to visit a few days ago? Well, as it turns out, she’s Gray Calx’s sister!”

“You’re... You’re kidding, right? A unicorn, formerly, and an earth pony sharin’ the same parents. Huh. Go figure.”

“I swear I’m not making that up! And that’s just the tip of the iceberg! He’s a whole different pony than the rock miner we got to know and love! And... A-and I can’t help but wonder if this was all just a pretence, if he’s been concealing his true nature this whole time. What if this ‘Gray Calx’ alias was just a ruse to avoid attracting suspicion from something he wasn’t ready to face? What if he’s been playing the role of somepony else – somepony he’s never been? What if... W-what if my goofball only befriended me because... because he used me as an asset to make his disguise more believable?”

Sweet Pint gave me an intimidating scowl. “Whoa hey now, slow your roll! That’s poppycock and you know it! Okay, sure, our local troublemaker might’ve kept a secret life under the drapes, but I’m sure he was genuinely happy to hang around his pals.”

“Was he? Was he really?”

I have no idea how it managed to find its way there, but one of the two large pillows was now squeezed on my tummy, with my front hooves firmly wrapped around it. Almost as if I desperately needed something to hug. That, or maybe what I really wanted was a bit of padding to cushion me from an eventual crash. Either way, I was holding onto that pillow like my life depended on it.

“We’ve taken his presence for granted ever since he first showed up, and we were all collectively happy to give him the benefit of the doubt, but how much do we really know about him, deep down? I mean... You know how I’ve told you that his house has been the prey of flames? W-well... It was him! He’s the arsonist! The princess following him here drove him completely bonkers and he... He burned it all down! He burned it all down, with the full intent of disappearing forever! Pinty, he wanted to leave everything Outer Grove related behind! Without telling anypony! Without telling us!! You of all ponies should know how much of a sensitive chord it struck for me!”

“Oh.”

Yes, Sweet Pint, ‘oh!’ ‘Oh’ a thousand times over!

...

I err, became a tad too excited throughout my speech there. I even scooted closer to Sweet Pint without realizing it. What for, I didn’t know. Maybe so she could fully grasp the gravity of the situation? And if that wasn’t bad enough, looking down, what started as a modest hug was now a vile vise-grip. Seriously: I was practically strangling the pillow. Fearing that I would be overtaken by misplaced anger just the way I had the previous day, I took it upon myself to become calmer on the spot. I returned the pillow next to his fluffy brethren and breathed out gently.

“At the last possible moment,” I resumed, “before he went through with his scheme, he started expressing regrets on what he had done. That’s the reason why he came to me: To tell me everything I’m telling you in the span of what, 10 minutes? He wanted to repent, to become more honest with himself. But not without my help. He couldn’t have made it clearer how much he needed my assistance to turn his life for the better.”

“So then, what did you do?”

There it was. The big stinger. I buried my head in my hooves, eternally remorseful for the way I had treated Gray Calx.

“I told him to leave, Sweet Pint! Straight to his face! I used our friendship as a bargaining chip! I blackmailed him into rekindling his relationships with those he left behind and threatened to never speak to him again if he didn’t! And now he’s gone! He’s gone!! I totally overreacted, and I don’t even know if he’ll ever want to come back... A-and I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t...”

Pow! Cat was out of the bag, meaning, Sweet Pint now knew how low I could really sink. If I was seen as a humble and caring pony before, now, for sure she was going to start questioning the integrity of my personality. Treacherous? Self-serving? Egocentric? You name it!

Sigh... I tried not to cry here. I already turned on the waterworks earlier; how much crying in a day is enough crying? Did I not have an ounce of adulthood left in me? C’mon Skybrush! Show a bit of resolve in front of your friend for a change! It’s alright to tank your reputation a little, but try to not outright destroy it!

A good five minutes passed with me trying to keep my sentimental temper on the inside. With those minutes came another wave of silence, everything accompanied by more deafened chants from the partygoers on the main floor.

My period of wallowing more or less done, I tried a discreet look toward Sweet Pint. She was looking ajar, a blank expression on her face. What she said next, though, was as anticlimactic as it could get. Know what it was?

“Ouch.”

“Ouch? That’s all you have to say about it?”

“I mean- Sorry. I’d be a liar if I said I was expecting any o’ this. S’a bit tough to process, know what I’m sayin’?”

I knew exactly what she was sayin’. After all, it’s through my own ineptitude to cope with Calx’s new reality that I’ve been railroaded all the way to where I was today, here in this bar, here in this bedroom, here on this bed.

“Look,” she said, semi serious again, “way I see it, there’s a coupla things we need to clear up ASAP. So before we go any further, can I ask you something rather indiscreet? Something you probably won’t like to hear?”

“Y-yeah?”

She bent forward a little. The springs of the mattress creaked.

“Do you love him?”

“What!?”

“Be real with me, gal. Gray dude. You love him, don’tcha?”

I...

Well this definitely wasn’t how I figured tonight would unfold. Here I was, sharing something super delicate I had on my consciousness, and her best response was to bring up the topic of love? How were these two subjects even remotely related? And w-what kind of question was that anyway? That was such a... such an in-your-face intrusion of something only I should have access to! What, was she actually expecting me to answer something as silly as this? ... I guess she was, wasn’t she? But I mean... eep!

Did I love my goofball?

There was a time where I thought I knew the answer to this. I was super confident about it, too. But now? Five years after neither of us had made a single attempt to take things a little further? I think it became pretty obvious where we stood.

That’s not all.

I looked over between the chifforobe and the coat hanger near the entry door. Over there was a tall standing mirror. In it, I could see my reflection. The neat part about reflections is that, well, they make you reflect. Reflecting at your reflection: Quite the efficient tool to make you reevaluate your current reality.

Well, my current reality looked rather grim. And pudgy. Yeah, what I was seeing in the looking glass was far from being pretty. Next to Sweet Pint, it looked like I got stung by a swarm of bees. I had gained so much weight over the years, I could barely recall how I used to look. Undoubtedly, that extra hundred pounds did not do my figure any favors. I mean, look at those cheeks... those legs... and good heavens, let’s not talk about those hips! Everything had ballooned to proportions rivaled only by those of the foulest of caricatures.

Whether I had romantic feelings toward Gray Calx was absolutely irrelevant. The real question Sweet Pint should’ve asked was: How could anypony in their right mind love this? And more to the point, how could I impose this awful body on somepony else? What right did I have to coerce a poor soul into settling down with the mare in the mirror when there was an ocean of thinner, and consequently, more attractive candidates out there?

Now there was an answer I could give.

“Helloo-oo~? Equus to Sky? It’s a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, lassie.”

“Then I choose... I choose ‘no.’ I am not in love with him.”

“You what-!?” she recoiled, as if she didn’t anticipate this kind of response. “Uuuugh, I told you to be real with me, Sky. How ‘bout ya take a couple more minutes to reconsider and pick a different option? Y’know, a more honest one?”

“T-that won’t be necessary. I meant what I said! About not being attracted to him, I mean. B-because I’m not! In love, that is...!”

She did three things there: A slight head shake, a disappointed sigh, and a condescending eye roll. A combination that clearly demonstrated how little she believed what I just said.

“Okay, so you don’t love him. Sure. Fine. Whatever you say, Skybrush,” she emphasized with a distrustful squint. “But you DO care for him, right?”

This one was a no-brainer.

“Absolutely.”

“And do you know where he went?”

“Uuuh, more or less,” I pondered, a bit uncertain. “He said he was going to take the first train available, though where, I’m not totally sure. I thiiink he went to Ponyville? Logically, that’s where I’d go if I were him, given his uh, recent quibble with his sister.”

She breathed in, joined the tip of her front hooves together, and crossed hind legs. Sitting this way, she kind of had a flair of Dr. Stethorsecope, especially before delivering bad news to a patient with worsening symptoms. S-surely this couldn’t bode well...

“So let me get this straight then,” so went her prognosis, “you care about Gray dude, and you have a solid guess as to where he nicked off to. If your goal is to make up with him, then sorry to be so blunt, but what the hay are you still doing here!? If ya wanna salvage that beautiful friendship, then you’ll go after him and fight for it!”

I jolted. “A-are you suggesting that I too should leave Outer Grove!? Sweet Pint I can’t... I can’t just do that, that’s nuts!”

“Psssh,” she waved a hoof, “sure you can! Didn’t ya hear? The sentinels’ report finally reached Canterlot, and since then, there’s been a steady flow of supplies pouring into the Grove like we’re on the brink of a famine! I ain’t yankin’ your tail: The Two Arches’ storage room has never been so jam-packed with goodies!

“Look, point is, there are enough trains for you to find one that’ll take ya straight to Ponyville. Probably how your ‘totally-not-love-interest’ found one, by the by.”

“I-it’s not commuting I’m worried about, it’s just... I have a business to run! I can’t just bail on my store and keep it closed two days in a row! A-a-and what about Honey Dream, huh? She has school to attend! I-I’m not going to leave her here without a legal guardian, and, and-”

“You’re panicking again, Sky. Ya oughta calm down and think things through. Right now, you’re just making up a bunch of excuses.”

“Excuses!? That’s not- I d-don’t have the time to go on a wild goose chase! I have chores and responsibilities to take care of!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you have stuff to do. Like pigging your heart out, am I right? Think you ain’t busy enough for that!?”

I gasped, mouth hidden behind my hooves.

D-did she just...?

...

Her personal attack had felt exactly like someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water on my head. I was not... I was not prepared for her to go this far, and given her sudden surprised expression, neither was she. We both backed away from each other slightly, ashamed to have raised our tones. There was nothing that could’ve justified our petty escalation.

Sweet Pint fiddled with one of her braids, her head hanging a bit lower. “I-I’m sorry, Sky. Insulting a pal in distress, that ain’t me. I didn’t mean to say... um. You know what I mean. S-sorry.”

“No... No you’re right. I was panicking pretty hard, yet again. I need a good wake-up call every now and then, h-heh.”

She gave me an apologetic smile. “I’ve ah, I’ve seen what your lil’ ankle-biter’s father has done to you. I’ve seen how difficult it’s been for you to move on from that good-for-nothing sack of dunce. And I just, I didn’t wanna see history repeat itself. You don’t deserve to go through this kind of bullcrap again, Sky. Nopony does. I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is that I, um... care about you and stuff. So if I can help ya keep the sweets at bay, then I should probably do just that, right? This is how I can help. By nudging you toward doing the right thing.”

Huh. It just dawned on me that she was encouraging me to pursue something I had broken the same way I did with Gray Calx yesterday. What a strange world we lived in.

Perhaps... Perhaps Sweet Pint was onto something.

Perhaps the correct course of action here was to follow through with the plan and ride out of Outer Grove for the first time in... Celestia knows how long. I could hardly remember what Equestria looked like outside of the Undiscovered West. Still, this was no detriment to stop me from carrying on. I had pushed my Calxie out of here, so it only made sense if I made it even. If I could dish it, then by Faust, I should be able to take it too.

If only I had left with him when he gave me the chance.

“There are solutions for every problem,” Sweet Pint continued with a reassuring hoof on my shoulder. “Your store, for instance. Tomorrow’s a Friday, right? Don’tcha usually have one of them snotty teenagers punching in on Fridays? You could always leave them a note or somethin’, tellin’ them all about your absence. Heck, if you need more hooves in the Mart, I’ll happily enroll one of the young cooks we’ve got here to cover for you while you’re away. S’not like they’re busy busting their flanks or anything anyway.”

“W-wow... You’d do that for me?”

She flicked her free hoof. “Pbbbt, sure I would! What are friends for, right? And, oh! As for your girl: Take that lil’ tornado with you! I can go talk to her principal and sort it all out. Ain’t no thing!”

I... guess it could work? But that implied putting a lot of strain on her shoulders, and I wasn’t all too sure if I was comfortable with that. She was already doing so much for me, taking time off work just to hear me whine and whine... She was a real trooper, this pony. The amount of fidelity she had toward her friends was off the charts. First giving refuge to the families of Outer Grove during the Ursa incident, then acting as the princess’ personal hostess, and now setting work aside to help me feel better? I definitely didn’t deserve her.

“Thank you...” I whispered, for lack of better words.

“Bah,” she dismissed, “you would have done the same for me. Last I’ve heard, we’re a tightly knit community here, yes? We oughta stick together to survive. So you focus on finding that runaway o’ yours, and you let this barmare take care of the rest.”

I sheepishly moved a lock of hair out of my face. “I know you’re usually not too hot on compliments, but I do mean it, Pinty. You’re a wonderful friend for helping me through this. I just want you to know I greatly appreciate it. In fact...”

I approached her...

“What are ya-”

... and give her a nice peck on her rosy cheek.

What? She deserved it! This was a simple token of my appreciation. I’ve been miserable all day, but now, now I was a bit more optimistic, thanks to her. The least I could do was to show her how meaningful her input has been. A platonic kiss was all the rage when it came to show how grateful a pony was to another.

And Sweet Pint, she... um...

Well, I certainly didn’t expect a quick innocent smooch to make her that flustered, yikes. She hadn’t moved at all, but she sure was breathing heavily. She turned crimson on the spot and was practically melting through the blankets. She was even staring at me like she was afraid. Or maybe she was apprehensive? Regardless, for once in her life, she was completely speechless. No witty comments, no sarcastic remarks, no nothing. Only a forehead covered in beads of sweat, a fur coat erected as if she’s been struck by lightning, and a thundering heartbeat even I could hear.

I think I broke her.

“You’re ah...” she slowly swallowed, “you’re one cruel son of a bitch, Sky. Teasin’ me like this? Totally uncool!”

For the first time today, I allowed myself to giggle. I couldn’t help it! She looked like an absolute mess. It was probably the one and only time I was going to catch her in this state, so I made sure to keep a good mental image of what I was seeing.

“Maybe you should take another shower?” I quipped.

“Hardy har har, Sky,” she deadpanned whilst fanning her face with a hoof. “S’good to have you back, ya sly devil.”

Seeing as I was finally brightening up a little, we decided to keep chatting for a good portion of the night. Sweet Pint eventually promised she’d give an update about Calxie’s whereabouts to Mr. Gold and the rest of his acquaintances, just to keep their worries on the low end of things. She even assured me that she’d seek the mayor to explain what happened to Calx’s house before “those two idiot Blueberries continued spreading more dumb rumors” (her words; not mine). She even added, and I quote: “The old geezer and I are getting pretty chummy lately, so he’ll understand.” Apparently, princess Twilight Sparkle entrusted her to tell Mayor De La Tour about her departure, or something? Poor Sweet Pint sure was running a lot of errands lately.

When the clock struck one in the morning, I let out a big yawn. Seems like my need to sleep was finally making itself known. I wasn’t unhappy about that. Besides, I had been away from my lil’ bee for long enough. Likewise, Pinty had some tasks to go back to; she wasn’t exactly confident that her crew was going to complete their end-of-day upkeep the right way.

As we wished each other good night, I couldn’t help but think some more about an important point she made earlier.

We were a tightly knit community.

She hit the nail on the head with that one. Scratching each other’s backs essentially made Outer Grove the place of trust that it was today. That’s why we showed gratitude toward Gray Calx’s five years of services with his party, that’s why he saved my daughter (twice), that’s why everypony worked together to rebuild the town, and that’s why I was going to do everything in my power to reconcile with my goofball.

I didn’t know where tomorrow would take me. I didn’t know what setting hoof in Ponyville for the first time would mean for Honey Dream and I. And I certainly didn’t know if my mission would even bear fruit. But, strangely enough, this uncertainty felt a bit... I don’t know. Exciting? At the very least, it was going to make for an interesting journey.

Here’s hoping.

Author's Note

Bada bing, bada boom.

The unplanned chapter in question. Well, not unplanned per say. I mean, I did plan for it, otherwise, I wouldn't have written it. Semantics, ex dee. What I meant is, it wasn't in my initial draft. But as I said in the previous author's notes, I think this chapter was a missing link I couldn't do without. Plus, it gave us a new unexpected perspective, so that's kinda neat, maybe, probably.

Ok, ok! No more doing away with Gray Calx. Next chapter will definitely, unquestionably, 100% be from his perspective. I ain't delaying his progression any longer. I personally vow to record myself sitting on a cactus naked if I'm lying about it. Now that's how you make a promise, kids!

However, gimme some time to cook, here. There will be a lot of stuff to unfold, so the next update(s) may only come out in a while. This is no hiatus though: It's just me trying to put it all into words in a way that isn't too dissatisfying. As I said in the comments of the previous chapter, it's possible I'll also split that one into two parts. I guess I'll figure that one out when I start writing it. Oh, and not to mention, I'm also going to push the chapter of another story o' mine before I continue working on Oxidized. Again, not a hiatus! Just me micromanaging shit n' stuff.

(Small note: I renamed the previous chapter to fit more with this one. Unimportant biz, but I felt like saying anyway.)