Anon’s House - In The Middle of Bumfuck Nowhere (Just Kidding, It’s Ponyville [Same Thing])

Gray: a faint color on the ceiling. That’s what Anon E. Mous was staring up at, wondering how it got this way.

…

No, no, that wasn’t what he was thinking about! Besides, his full name was too goofy sounding. Most just called him Anon, while some called him Mous. He didn’t know exactly why some wanted to call him Mous. It was probably because it sounded like moose, and who wouldn’t want to be called that? Unless they hated moose in general. Eh…

He sighed and licked his lips. Sometimes he was called Nonny by that pink horse down at the bakery (Sugarcube Corner to be exact, it was too many syllables for him to say as of late). She was quite the hyperactive one, what with all her cheeriness and everything. Not to mention her sweets cravings were off the charts! Thankfully, most ponies weren’t hyperactive like her. They were usually happy, but mellow. Calm, somewhat collected, and sometimes even upset, but those times were rare. They were kinda like him but not as much. In fact, they… they were—

“Anon, I know you’re in there!”

Okay, he lied. He lied like the weasely little liar he was. They were not like him at all.

Outside his red front door, the one he had repainted just last week when he wasn’t feeling so keen on staring poetically at his ceiling, was Starlight Glimmer. He still had to fix the door’s hinge; the thing ached more than he did. Maybe if he had some proper WD40 it wouldn’t screech, but that wasn’t his fault. Ponyland didn’t have it mass produced in droves like back home. Here, the damn thing was on backorder with no end in sight.

Anon folded his arms behind him and locked his hands together. He placed them behind his head, before he shut his eyes and reclined back in his rocking chair. It creaked softly as he moved, letting himself drift while he imagined himself fixing the pesky door. He smiled as it no longer did that little squeak when it swung open. It was great… for the moment. Then he flicked his gaze over to the door again.

Even if he had fixed the screeching hinge, he still had the door jam. That door jam… it was even worse than the hinge! The door rattled aggressively whenever someone ran into it or closed it rather harshly—SLAM!—like Starlight did just now.

Egh. He didn’t want to move. He was too comfortable in his living room, rocking gently in his chair. Most importantly, he was safe from whatever was outside for now. Unless she decided to use her magic. In that case—

“Don’t you dare ignore me, Anon!”

He cracked his neck and wondered if he could snap it instead so that way he didn’t have to hear her incessant—

“Go home, Starlight.”

His voice had sparred with his mind, which the first beat the latter effortlessly without any noticeable fervor, so those words escaped his mind and left his lips without a second thought, leaving him to wonder what was next while his nerves were shot to the stratosphere.

Why had he said those words to her? Was he just fed up with her pleas? How long had she been there?

He gulped down what nerves claimed stake in his throat, while he bit his lip in anticipation for what was to come. And boy did she respond, if the few hoof taps rapping against his front door had anything to say about his ‘reply’.

“And leave you all alone? If I did that, I’d be committing friendship fraud in the third degree!”

“Then commit it,” Anon said dryly. “I was just fine on my own until—”

“Lying isn’t the best policy, y’know!” She tapped on the door again, making it rapt in a way that made Anon cringe. “You haven’t been at work in a few days. This isn’t like you!”

Much to his surprise, Starlight was right. It had been a few days since he last stepped into Mayor Mare’s office. Last time he stepped foot in there, he had helped her with… something. Wasn’t a big project, but it was enough to get her moving forward on some referendum. Anon partially blamed it on his brain-bleached mind. He remembered he had gotten home to drink his homemade ‘Forget The Day’ juice (aka beer). He may have had copious amounts of it, enough to stop counting after three.

A typical celebration of a job well done… for a human like him. Either that or it went horribly wrong that he needed to forget about it. Anon couldn’t remember which one happened that day.

He frowned and got off his chair. The rocker rocked alone in his absence while he crept towards the door, staring at it with as much intensity as the ceiling earlier. Unlike the ceiling, this pony outside his front door deserved the attention. Not because Starlight was important. No, it was because she was annoying, and from it sounded like she wasn’t keen on giving up so easily.

Anon could only recall how many times he’s interacted with her directly… on one of his hands. They weren’t too close. She had always been busy with the School of Friendship, while he had been stuck being Twilight’s experiment, subsequent servant (at the time, rough job caused by a lost bet), and soon-to-be unemployed best friend. Then he became employed because Twilight had connections… whatever that meant.

And then there was Starlight: the one who greeted him with a smile and waved to him like a penguin from Madagascar. Yes, she was just like them, if they were transformed into ponies. They may have talked about human and pony nonsense at one point, but he couldn’t remember too much about that conversation. He didn’t really remember much about what they talked about. He did recall Starlight being incredibly thankful she was no longer obsessed with cutie marks. She also was really happy to not only find friendship, but also help other ponies find it too.

Was this the end result of catching Twilight’s brainworms? Anon didn’t know. He wasn’t good at getting infected, and he wasn’t good at naturally finding friendship either. If only he had consulted her before he—

“A-Anon… please, j-just come to the door.”

Maybe that’s why she’s here? Did she have some epiphany that he was in desperate need of therapy so she galloped on over to give him a Starlight-approved intervention? Anon scratched his head and answered her with… confusion, “And what will that get me?”

“What?”

Her voice cracked. Just like when she said please. And his name. It seemed that Starlight, in this very moment, was the newly crowned Princess of Voice Cracks, either that or she was upset and she was struggling to get the words out. In Anon’s humble opinion (earnestly), Starlight needed to stop sounding this way. It wasn’t good for her health.

Much like how it wasn’t doing him any favors staying here like a bump on a log?

…

A soft exhale grazed Anon’s lips. Maybe he shouldn’t be so… judgmental. He had been here for a few days, thinking to himself, staring up at the ceiling. Thankfully, he was still existing, despite his track record.

…

Good gracious granny, why was he suddenly beating himself up? Was he punishing himself for skipping her lessons and overcompensating by creating his own self-deprecating headspace? What a crock of—

“Are you going to let me in?”

Her voice was not near the door anymore. It sounded like it was near his rocking chair, which was coincidentally near his window. Did she lose her way and decided to see if there was a backdoor? Unfortunately for her, Ponyville proper didn’t have backyards for homes like his. It was just a quaint little cottage with a non-existent backyard, save for a small door in the back that served as a fire escape with a key close by—he hoped she didn’t check under the mat.

He walked over to the nearby window sill, his mind trying to conjure up something to explain this situation, but nothing came to fruition. The window brought in some much needed sunlight, but the view outside was masked by a rather large curtain he had gotten from Rarity. Hoofsewn, as she put it, expertly crafted to basically make the home more… homey. The curtains looked like something from his grandmother’s house: ancient, floral, and ancient. Maybe he should have said something when Rarity had given them to him. Like, what was your inspiration? The morgue? Then again, Rarity wouldn’t know how to answer those questions. She’d probably just squirm, tell Anon he was being insensitive, and trot away from him with a harrumph punctuating her withdrawal.

It was better to let her think she hit the nail on the head than the nail in her head.

…

Anyway, Anon tried to peer out from said curtain but by the time he had opened the curtains just a bit more than normal, he could not spot her whatsoever. She was not by the window, if the scurrying of hooves pitter-pattering against the dirt outside told him anything. She must have realized that she wasn’t going to see much from out there. Whatever.

Whenever his curtains were shut, the candles set out burned happily in his living room. Now that he thought about it, if he fell asleep and let the candles burn, would it cause the whole house to burst into a fiery inferno? Or would they be like hand grenades that didn’t go off? And how long would that take to burn his house down with him in it? And why was he so curious?

…

He cleared his throat and walked toward the door, only to stop halfway and claim a rather uncomfortably sounding, “No.”

“Why?”

Shrugging, Anon continued, “I want to be left alone.”

He imagined Starlight’s face right now, but he couldn’t really picture her. Sure, he’s seen her a couple times, but not enough to really know her facial expressions. For him, it was like watching an AI try to replicate it, only for the visual to fuck up halfway through and transfix Twilight’s face on hers. He grokked (for some reason) and then ultimately pictured Twilight as a whole instead. And then he...

…gulped.

His stomach flip-flopped.

A bubbly sensation rose to his throat. He tried to mask what he felt coming up, but the acidic taste lurched out of him and—

Maybe he shouldn’t think of her like that.

“But—”

He grunted. “Nope. Stopping you right there. I can handle myself. I don’t need you to—”

“And that’s why Mayor Mare hasn’t seen you in days?”

“Well I told her I was going on vacation—”

A slam against his door welcomed him aggressively. “That’s a lie and you know it! You put in vacation when you’re going on it, not suddenly saying it and walking out!” He could hear her plop herself up against the door, panting all the while. “And now look what you’re doing? Leaving me out here while you just… just turn yourself into a self-proclaimed shut-in.”

“But—”

“No buts.” She tittered. She shoved her hooves into the door this time, the force sounding like she bucked into it. The door rattled against its frame. Whoever made this door really needed to make a new one for him, it’s fantastic for protecting his home against rowdy ponies with a hard-to-follow vengeance. “I’m trying to be here for you, but look at what you’re doing instead! Is it fine for you to keep yourself held up in your house randomly for days at a time? I don’t remember h-humans getting estrus!”

His brows furrowed, while his arms crossed against his chest. “Well maybe they do and—”

He paused as a loud whimper emitted behind the door.

Was… was Starlight crying? She never cried around him. He always saw her when she was happy. Granted, that could be because they never saw each other much but… the crying sounded kind of like Twilight, back when she had gotten stressed out about some court session she had to attend and totally wasn’t prepared for. Then Anon had stepped in and told her everything was going to be alright. She was going to ‘kill it’, which she had promptly told him to use a different word or phrase. So he had settled on the word ‘slay’ and then did this little flippant gesture with his hand.

That had earned him a laugh. A hearty one, while she had rolled and rolled on the floor. He had joined her. It was a great time.

…

His stomach growled. He really needed to stop thinking about Twilight. Starlight was crying, right? Wasn’t that more important…?

Another whimper, and a pained whinny accompanied it.

Anon sighed. “Are you… okay, Starlight?”

“I-I would be if you were, b-but you’re clearly not. And I’m not leaving until you are, or at least you give me a chance to talk to you!”

The muffled declaration made Anon rethink his life choices.

His life was good here in Ponyland. He was somewhat successful in being an assistant to a literal Mayor of Ponyville. He finally made the renovations to the upstairs guest room where he made enough space to even let Big Mac and Spike stop by again for some shenanigans with The Boys. He even had his new kitchen sink fixed! It was a lot of progress for a human adjusting to the pony way of life.

Yet… something was missing. The kitchen was clean, somewhat. He had cleaned the sink, but not the table or the countertop, and now that Anon thought about it, he did leave a full bag of trash at the door last night and he thought he heard some roaches crawling across the floor…

He blinked once. Then twice. Then three times.

What was he doing? This wasn’t like him! He would’ve had that bag out right away, and the roaches would’ve bothered him back on Earth. In fact, he would’ve called some pimple-faced Orkin man to come over and deal with it for him. Effective laziness came with a few dollars flying away from his wallet.

So what was he doing? Why was this any different?

Anon slowly rose from his seat on the couch and turned to face the door.

Should he answer it? Should he let her in?

What was Starlight to him? Was she even worth letting in?

...

…

…

“Anon?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

“I don’t know if I’m okay.”

He walked toward the door and sat down right in front of it, his back leaning against its old rickety board. His landing, thankfully, didn’t make the bag he needed to toss out fall over. He didn’t want to imagine the creepy-crawlies crawling out of whatever unholy amount of garbage he threw into that bag.

“Are you…?”

Anon’s eyes darted from the bag. “No. I’m not. Not yet anyway.” He sighed. “Me sitting here is the best thing you’re gonna get from me right now.”

Starlight murmured to herself before she flopped to the ground. A few rustles and a door rub later, and Starlight was most likely in the same position as he was, just outside his home. Which was in the city.

Ponies probably thought she was insane.

“Ponies probably think I’m insane for sitting here.”

“I had the same thought—”

“Anon, you’re not supposed to admit it!”

A weak chuckle escaped him.

Round two of picturing Starlight’s face boogaloo. He closed his eyes as he tried to picture her scrunched up muzzle: her lips would be puckered, if that would even work right for their anatomy. Her eyes probably were going somewhat cross, and her attempt to suck in a deep breath would sputter a cough, followed by a pained whinny. Probably.

His imagination ran wild sometimes. Actually, scratch that. It was a lot more if this week was anything to glean at.

Wonder whose fault was that?

Anon knew who, and if he had to identify the colors, they’d all be different shades of lavender and—

“Look, just tell me what’s going on and I’ll leave you alone as you asked.”

“Really?”

She huffed through her nose. “Yes, I’ll even make a Pinkie Promise for this one.”

He raised his brow at that one. “I still don’t know why that’s a way to prove you’re not going to lie.”

“Because you can’t break it without Pinkie Pie enacting her wrath on you! And trust me, she’s not somepony you would want to disappoint.”

He could definitely envision Miss Cotton Candy from afar. The one that called him Nonny. Her blue eyes would pierce him, like she saw through him effortlessly, while her brows furrowed in conjunction with the erratic waving of her hoof that wielded a spatula spattered with a dripping red liquid and chunks of—

Okay, enough of that. She’s not making cupcakes with Scream in mind.

“Eh, I won’t have you do that. I’d rather you leave.”

“Why? Is it because you don’t know me as much as you’d like?”

“I’ll plead the fifth.”

“That’s not an answer in Equestrian law, Anon.”

“Pushy.” He tried to laugh but only sputtered out a cough. He groaned as his mental exhaustion finally showed its hand. His body went entirely slack against the door, while a bead of sweat raced down his cheek. Who turned on the heat in this house—oh wait, he didn’t have a thermostat or a working heater.

He groaned. “Fine, I’ll tell you. Just… bear with me. It’s not going to make a whole lot of sense to you, and there’s a lot of reasons. I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear them all.”

“Anon, I’m more than ready to hear them.”

He rolled his eyes. Anon wasn’t sure as to why Starlight cared so much. After all, they didn’t talk much. Why would she be so interested in him?

“Whatever savior complex you’ve developed that compelled you to plop right outside my door is saving your tail from being told off, Starlight.”

“Savior complex my tail,” she muttered, before letting out a snort. “Sue me."

“Sure. Fifteen thousand doubloons, and I’ll make sure Celly presides over the case.”

“Sounds like my type of party.”

Anon laughed. “Well, since you’re here. I guess I’ll let you hear me out, since, well, I haven’t talked to anyone about this, and I’d rather get it all out in the open to someone who may or may not care about me.”

“May or may not care about you? What do you mean?”

Her higher pitch as she asked her questions made Anon clear his throat. “Do you really care? I mean, hell, you’re probably here just to pity me—”

“You’re wrong. You’re dead wrong. You’re…” her voice trailed off and he could’ve sworn he heard her horn activate, but magic wasn’t his forte. It could’ve been something even worse—how did ponies sound when they fart?

“I’m…?”

Her voice quivered as she continued, “You’re… a great creature, Anon.”

Anon facepalmed. “That sounds rich to hear again.”

“Again?”

“That’s what Twilight told me a couple weeks ago when she turned me down..."

“...”

“Starlight?”

He could hear her cough in-between what sounded like a grunt and a neigh. “Sorry, I just got whiplash from what you said. You… you confessed to Twilight?”

“Yes.”

“Like, the real Twilight Sparkle.”

“Yep.”

“The Princess of Friendship?”

“Yeah, are you…?”

He could hear her clopping her forehooves together. “Confessing in the holding hooves type of way?”

“Of course.”

“And she… rejected you?”

Suddenly, he saw red, and not just the door. His hands, his formerly blue jeans and ruffled up white tee, his worn tennis shoes, his everything—and the ceiling, they were all blood red. He bit his lip and growled out, hissing in pain.

“Anon?!”

“Enough!” he shouted, grunting as he felt where his tooth had pierced his lip. “Y-You really want to hear it, Starlight? You really want me to get it all out there? Sure, I can do that. I can do that and more! I can tell it to you in three different ways, all in vivid detail, and all right in your face too! I’m not going to do the last part, since we’re in this situation, but if you want my dirty laundry, then let’s go with that. I’ll air that all out for you to hear, and probably half of Ponyville, but who cares anymore, right? Whatever. You’re just mimicking how she liked hearing things: straight to the point and with no remorse, no chance to correct anything. She didn’t want to pretend like she was deaf around me. No, she wasn’t going to let me have any reprieve. Made it easier for her to figure out how to turn me down."

He winced as he felt bile rise in his throat. He continued to speak though, his tone growing with each word. "She noticed after all—and noticed she did. She turned me down harshly, Starlight. She told me thirteen reasons. Thirteen reasons why we wouldn’t work out. She’d go, ‘You’re not compatible with me, Anon. You’re not a stallion. You don’t have the right amount of chromosome pairs and magic can’t correct it.’ Then she’d turn around and be all sympathetic saying, ‘Oh, Anon, I don’t want you to change for my sake,’ and the next, she’d tout that I’m not as good of a friend as she thought. She told me the attraction wasn’t there, that I’m all these thirteen reasons. Her reasoning, it felt shallow, like an excuse forced upon me that I had to accept. Hell, she probably thought that if we were going to be in a relationship, I’d screw up all her friendships by taking her already finite amount of time she had for them!”

He coughed to clear the raspiness from his voice. “I’d be lying if I said how she thought of things, not relationships, wasn’t something I liked about her. She always wanted to problem solve, thinking of every possible outcome before making a decision that would change something so important to her. After all, she’s the scientific type, the one who analytically looks at things and wonders ‘what do?’. At first, she looked at me like an experiment, but as time progressed and we spoke to each other more. The more we talked, the more she became like a friend, to the point that she became a best friend to me. She took me in when no one else wanted to. She taught me a lot about Equestria and she helped me meet all of you because, without her, I was a sitting duck. Swallowed by my views, and by my past. She told me that I was being askew at the time, and that it would be great to open up to others, get to know other ponies to really make those friendships last. Guess how that turned, Starlight? Do you know—oh don’t answer, it’s only rhetorical—Twilight turned around and told me how it was. There was no meeting halfway. There was no reciprocation. She told me she couldn’t make sense of love from someone like me. Isn’t that great? Couldn’t she have asked for advice from her sister-in-law? You know, the one with the heart butt tattoo that specializes in love? But no, she did not even give us a chance. She just told my thoughts, my feelings that they didn’t matter to her. No, they were a silly toss up in the hypothesis she called her life!"

He wanted to slam his elbow against the door, but he stopped himself, his elbow just shy of it. He had this dumb thought of trying it again, only this time not pulling away at the last second, but he shook his head free of it. He had to make a point, a statement, not hurt himself again in the process.

"That’s how it goes for Anon, right? Anon: the only human in Equestria whose sole purpose is to just rot all alone. I can’t go back to Earth with the people who cared about me. I’ll never get to see them again. I’m only allowed to be here, being reminded every day of what parallels branched from my previous life. How you live is human, but how you are are ponies. That’s how it is, and that’s why I get the cold shoulder, because I’m not like you lot. I’m not like you at all. I’m not a stallion. I’m just Anon. I’m just a human. And there ain’t anything you can do about it. Magic? Nada. Potions? Forget about it. There ain’t no theory crafting that can save me, and I guess that's it, huh? The price I pay for being the way I am?”

“...”

Shuffling behind the door just a tad. Her back rubbing against it, maybe? Anon couldn’t place it. She needed to be careful, splinters were not nice to get— “You’ve been thinking about this for quite a while, huh?”

He took in a rather deep breath. “No. Not at all.”

“Huh?”

“Thought about it when it all happened. Took about thirty minutes to really get the full picture. Then, I punched a hole in my room, told my non-existent family to get out, and after turning numb to everything over the past few days, I’m now sitting here, entertaining you between this rickety slab of wood I call a door.” He chuckled again, much raspier this time. “And I was thinking about oiling it up, making sure the hinges stopped squeaking, but here I am, sitting here talking to some pony who is here listening to me ramble about all of my problems and all of those feelings and thoughts I’ve had. And even then, not all of them are out there, but hey, at least blowing off a little bit of steam with someone who won’t go yapping to Twilight about this is okay, right?” His shoulder rubbed against the door. “I mean, did she tell you anything about me and my failed confession? For someone who is close to her, she probably tells you lots of things.”

After Anon finally said his piece, he waited for Starlight to speak. Unfortunately for him, it was taking a bit. She shifted in front of the door, probably waiting for someone to pass by her who was snooping in on them.

But then that thought was dashed when a shaky sigh pierced through.

“N-No. She didn’t tell me anything. I…I only heard about this from Mayor Mare. She was asking ponies about you, wondering where you were. She was worried, almost distraught even, but she didn’t know if coming over here would come off as abrasive. In my opinion, she should’ve come here sooner, but thankfully I was there to talk to her about it. I mean, other ponies just passed by like nothing was going on, while others told her they were busy or it was too much of a hassle; they weren’t getting in the way of some workplace drama. And… if only I knew about this sooner, if only I knew that Twilight had done something to you, I could’ve been here for you much sooner too.” She groaned. “I should’ve known Twilight was worried about something! She was focused way too much on her work as of late. But here I am, wondering about her when—” She coughed and cleared her throat. “Anon, I don’t want to make this mistake again. I’m here now. I need to see you. I want to be here, not out of some pity, but because I should’ve been here when you needed me. And if this is some savior complex coming out, I’ll welcome it, because somepony should’ve been here for you. I just so happened to hear about you and… I want to make things right. Is that too much to do? To help somepony in need, especially when they need it the most?”

“...”

“Anon?”

“...”

“An—”

“Sorry. Was stuck in my head.”

“In your head?”

His chest rose with his voice. “I don’t know. I… I have a lot of thoughts upstairs. They’re swirling and swirling and swirling. And now that they’re going even faster, I’m feeling everything now. I’m feeling what I felt when Twilight rejected me. I’m feeling what I felt when I succeeded in assisting Mayor Mare with some task at her office. I’m feeling what I felt when Pinkie Pie gave me diabetes in the form of shakes and bakes. But I know now that all of this culminates into nothing, and I’ll feel it. I’ll feel it for days now: waking up to see nothing but gray, feeling nothing but the gray. And then, just like the rain, I’d feel it all wash away in a downpour of emotions, though they’d never come out.

“It’s like what I did this morning. I took a shower with some soap bar that Twilight got me, and then I’ll wash with it, but then I’ll remember things, and I’ll feel all gross, but hey, I’ll smell better afterwards, so who cares right? Heaven knows I’ll need some more of it too, heh—but then I’ll go back to that nothing, and then I realize nothing happened. Nothing happened to me. I just… drifted. Thought a lot and nothing changed. I’ve gotten comfortable in letting it be, Starlight. I’d rather continue feeling nothing so that way I don’t feel everything again. But with you here…”

Anon gulped in the flurry of fury filling his stomach, butterflies dancing on the lining as he spoke, “With you here, everything’s back again. And supposedly you’re here to not pity me—”

A tip-tap against the door, followed by a rather strange rubbing noise against it. “Supposedly? Anon, I’m not here to pity you at all.”

“Right." He cleared his throat. “If that’s true, and you’re really here to see me because you heard it from Mayor Mare, then… what are you actually here for?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, what do you get out of this?”

“W-Well, I’m here to—”

“—I mean I know that you’re here because you said you would be committing friendship fraud or whatever if you weren’t, but Starlight, we rarely talk. You’re usually hanging around Spike, Twilight, and her other friends, so I don’t know why you’re even giving me the time of day other than because you were asked to.”

“...”

He groaned. “See, I knew you were only here to pity me—ack!”

The door wracked his back with pain, and by the door, he meant Starlight sending a kick square into the door, which meant he was the causality in the end. “Starlight, can you not slam your hooves on the door? With a kick like that, you’ll pop the thing right off its hinges and—”

“Then stop saying things that aren’t true! You and I have always been friends!”

“Really? Are you sure about that? Tell me: when was the last time we hung out?”

“...”

“Starlight?”

“Two months ago.”

“And before that?”

“Five months ago…?”

“See. Exactly what I thought. You’re too busy because you have other friends and priorities, and that’s great! But if you really want to say you and I are friends, then I don’t know how that’s the case. We don’t talk, Starlight. And I don’t know you like you think you know me. We aren’t like that.”

Silence reigned as the door stayed in place, sandwiched between the two of them.

“Are you going to kick my door again?”

“No… sniffle—I… I’m sorry, Anon. I—I just wanted to be there for you. Like I said, when Mayor Mare told me, I wasn’t alone. There were other ponies there too, and no one even lifted a hoof to help. It was only me. I asked Spike to jump in, but he’s currently checking in with Twilight about some diplomatic hoo-ha. Hopefully he doesn’t find out she’s the reason why you’re like this and—”

“—Twilight isn’t the only reason why I’m like this, Starlight.”

She gasped. “Did… did something else happen?”

“Considering I said way more than Twilight in my rant earlier, I guess I have to go through this one by one. That proves to me that either you ponies won’t understand everything I am going through or I really need to stop ranting and raving, and start having you dissect my brain. I mean, maybe you shouldn’t. If Twilight didn’t see any worth in me, I doubt you’ll find anything worth using upstairs in my noggin. Whatever you find will probably be recycled or something like the waste of space I am—”

Starlight growled behind the door. “Stop that, Anon. You’re not a waste of space. You’re way more than that. So please… tell me what you’re going through so I can understand. I want to understand you. I want to be a better friend to you. Is that not obvious?!”

The words bounced off Anon’s ears. Was she lying? Was she really interested in him in that way?

He couldn’t tell… unless he opened the door to see her face. These ponies loved to wear their hearts on their sleeves, metaphorically speaking. It’s mostly on their faces. They tend to wear their emotions so openly on their faces that Anon didn’t need a cheat sheet to read someone, but with this door in the way, he’ll never be able to decipher what she was saying.

So…

Anon sighed. “I don’t know. I’d have to see you to make that decision.”

She whimpered. “Then let me in so we can talk about this.”

Carefully, Anon got himself up, grunting as he pushed himself off the ground. He took a deep breath, before he slowly walked to the door. “A-Alright,” he began, his voice quivering. He took a few more steps and shakily grabbed the door knob. “Take a step back. I don’t want you to fall in.”

He heard scampering behind the door, but as he leaned closer to it, Anon heard a rather sudden yelp that made him think Starlight was just jumped by another pony. Either that or it was Starlight and she nearly sprained her hoof. Either way, the door wasn’t rattling anymore, which had to account for something… maybe she was in a better position than before.

He frowned, before shaking his head. He was delaying. He needed to commit to the bit.

With a click, the door swung open.

There, in front of his doorstep, was the mess named Starlight Glimmer. She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears, some matting her fur while the rest was not, simply pooling up like the dam was about to burst. She was on her haunches, her tail curled around her, while her ears were splayed back against her head. Her mane looked a bit worse for wear, like she hadn’t slept in days, especially her eyes, as they were not only puffy but severely bloodshot, red arching like lightning to the edges of her eyes. She sniffled, her muzzle wriggling and scrunching up a tad, only for her to then sorta smile like she was totally okay and totally not crying her eyes out right now.

That smile definitely made Anon wonder if he was having heart palpitations.

“Uhh, come on in.”

“R-Right,” Starlight stuttered out. She made sure to arch her head down as she passed him. He peeked out, and noticed a few mares were staring at her, but no one else really paid her much heed.

Hopefully those who stared took pictures, they’ll last longer.

He slammed the door out of rage, not because of Starlight, but because of them. Were they judging her? Were they judging her because of him?

Because of him…

He gulped in his feelings and turned around, only to see Starlight looking at him with a couple tears racing down her cheeks.

“I… am glad you let me see you, Anon.”

Anon came close, looping an arm around her back to snake up her neck. His hand found purchase on her head, patting it like he would a dog. “Thanks for checking up on me. I hope it was worth being stared at like that.”

She hummed happily in his embrace, giving him a small smile. He could feel her hooves attempt to return the gesture of looping around his back, but it kinda… didn’t fully reach. Still, the warmth she gave him made him wonder if she was a furnace. “If it means helping a friend, then it definitely is.”

There’s that word again. Friend.

“You keep saying that when, well, it’s…”

She sighed and pulled back from the embrace, looking up at him with those blue-ish eyes. “I’ve seen you as a friend, but I haven’t been a friend to you.” Her muzzle scrunched up as she said the last part. “I… I wish I had noticed this sooner.”

“Better late than never,” Anon replied, his lips curving upwards.

She must’ve seen his smile, as she instantly frowned—contradictory much? “I guess so…”

He cleared his throat and cast his hand out to the nearby couch. “Have a seat on the couch. I’ll take a seat in the good ole rocker.”

“Rocker?”

“It’s one of those curved little seats that you rock back and forth on. It’s right over there, Starlight.”

She looked over at the chair for a moment, before snuggling right into his chest instead. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?”

Starlight frowned. “I mean, sitting down with a friend and hugging it out is much more beneficial than sitting away from each other and—”

Anon let out a brief laugh before shaking his head, proceeding to walk over to the couch with Starlight in his grasp. “Heh, if you think it’ll help…”

“Think? Anon, I know so.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Didn’t catch you as a therapist, Starlight.”

“I… I’m not really one of those. My friend Trixie is though. She’s put me through a few of her ‘sessions’.”

He set her down on the couch. “That blue one with the wizard hat and the purple cape, right?”

She laid down on the couch before she giggled into her forehoof. “Yeah, that’s the one. She’s an awesome friend. She knows a lot about sitting somepony down and talking to them about their problems. I… I kind of wish that she didn’t have to use me for her trials, but hey, everypony needs to start somewhere.”

“Yeah, that’s true…” Anon said, his voice trailing off. He sat down beside her, leaning against the back of the couch. He cracked his neck, which apparently gave Starlight an ample amount of time to crawl over to him, as when he looked back over at her, the mare had dragged herself over to him, her head resting just above his knee.

She looked up at Anon, her blue-ish eyes shimmering. “Anon, can you tell me what happened with Twilight?”

He blinked owlishly at her. “You want the whole skinny of it?”

“Is that a human saying?” Starlight asked with a slight head tilt.

He laughed. “Yeah, sorry. Still learning to pony all those -isms I got.”

“Right,” she breathed out.

Anon scratched the back of his neck and attempted to smile, only for his lips to twitch. His nerves were on fire, blazing as he gulped them down. “Uhh… you want the full story, then?”

“Verbatim, please,” she said with a curt nod. She nuzzled her cheek with his. “I’ll be here, making sure to butt in every so often.”

“Can’t let my angst spillover naturally?”

“Heh, you already did that with your little shouting match with me earlier. Thankfully, I can actually be here for you instead. Friends tend to be the greatest of dams.”

Anon let out a snort. “You’ll earn that title in time.”

“Good, because I want that title,” Starlight replied, a smirk worming on her face.

It made Anon worry if what he’ll say will wipe it clean off her face.

“Well… keep yourself where you’re at. It’s a long one.”

“I got the time.”

Starlight looked straight into his soul. Anon returned the gesture, wondering if he kept staring into the deep abyss of Ponyland’s hell (also known as Starlight’s eyes) out of a sense of duty, or if he was comforted by her gaze. Either way, she was really warm at the moment. Temperature wise and emotionally.

It was better than staring at his ceiling again.

So, with his demons in check, Anon took in a deep breath and began to speak…

Author's Note

It begins. Hope you all enjoy the story!

Song for this chapter:

Edits completed on January 2nd, 2025.