The Cafe Affair - Anon’s Perspective

It’s complicated. At least, that’s what I thought. Reflecting back on it, it wasn’t at all. Maybe I’m being unfair to her, to myself, to us, and maybe that’s really what’s going on here. Not that she’s the only point in all this. She isn’t the thing I can point to with a finger in the book we call life and just endlessly graze over her name as if it was a fond memory. No, she’s only the beginning of my realizations, Starlight.

On a day like this, gray as can be, we went out as friends. She found some time in her already loaded schedule to meet up with me. Princesses usually worked their tails off, unlike the ones back in my world. They really like listening to everyone else’s problems, just to poof them away like they were farts in the wind—yeah, yeah, not appropriate, but am I wrong? No? Good—anyway, either she poofed them away or she resolved them through other means that didn’t involve her magic. She wasn’t the type to raise her hooves to fight hoof-to-hoof, but if the action led to a swift knockout, I could see her doing that. She sure did that to me, with what words she was capable of saying at that time. Whatever way she took, she made logic appear as the basis, and everything else would follow suit.

I fell into that way of thinking about her. It was subtle at first: noticing how she looked at me, how she walked in the halls to greet me every morning, and how she, for some reason, had a gift for me every month. Something to remind me of home? I don’t know, the simple gestures meant a lot and they really… they really made me think differently about her. I found that I had fallen long ago. Few months in. She was so beautiful. Her smile when she saw me, her smile when she saw us in a photo, her smile when we went out…

She wore it the same that day. Trip to the cafe to get a quick bite to eat. Sitting down to get served—it was one of the only few joints in Canterlot that she wanted to take me to. You know which one, I think—anyway, we got our seats. Then our waitress arrived. We ordered.

And this was where it started.

I looked over at her. She was fumbling with her silverware, her utensils trapped in her magic. Something was out of place.

“Anon, why did they give us a salad fork when we didn’t order salad?”

Anon shrugged. “Probably customary in these joints.”

She hummed and rubbed her chin with a forehoof. “Probably? Hmm... maybe it's more like a tradition."

“I'm not a silverware connoisseur like they are, Twilight. I’m more of a sporkin' type a guy. An all-in-one utensil. Too lazy for these ones." I lifted them up in return: a fork, a slightly smaller fork, an even smaller fork—I don’t know why there’s so many forks, don’t ask, Starlight!—a big spoon, a normal sized spoon, a slightly smaller spoon, a butter knife, and a luncheon knife.

…

Did you just ask how I knew it was a luncheon knife but I don’t know what a serving spoon is? Starlight, I’m just telling you this story about how I was the utensil hoarder because the waitress thought I needed the whole silverware pack and then some! Ask her when you go there next—wait, you don’t know the cafe I’m talking about? It’s something called Le Cul Malodorant, I don’t know, it sounds fancy but painful at the same time. Probably butchered the pronunciation out back with a serving spoon but who cares, right? Wait, they do? Crap. Uhhh… I’ll use the luncheon knife next time. Whatever.

Anyway! Let’s talk about the real scoop here. Twilight. She was looking at me with that head tilt she’d give someone when they’re not making sense. And then her ears would do that twitching thing and splay against her nape—yeah, that!—and then she’d raise that brow uncontrollably, before she’d finally open her mouth to say something. Something like:

“You’d totally think that way.”

I threw my hands up at the time, but I should’ve put on a show or something. I should’ve given those ponies a reason to look at us. Whatever, it’s in the past. “Is that a problem, Miss Sparkle?”

She rolled her eyes and let out a huff. “No, but get rid of the titles. You should know that by now.”

“Well you are a Princess and now a teacher to… Starlight, right?”

“Of course,” Twilight had said—wait, are you upset at me that I hesitated there? Do you really blame me?

…

Exactly. Let me finish this. Anyway, she said her piece or whatever, and then I go, “Then no harm no foul. But I get you. Titles get boring after a while.”

“And this is why I like you, Anon.”

At the time, my heart leapt nearly out of my chest. These stupid feelings of mine, they only grew with time. I shook my head, shaking whatever heart-stopping nonsense filled me, and I gulped down the rest. “Keep those compliments to a minimum. They’re radioactive.”

“I’ll let you imagine them instead,” she murmured, smirking. This type of back and forth was what we had all along, at least, it’s what I thought we had. And… it definitely led me on, leading me to believe she liked me more than what she said.

So, I asked her. I had to know.

“Imagine them, huh? So you got a stallion in your life?”

Her eyes widened. “Uhh… not sure what you mean by that.”

I smirked and twiddled my two fingee tendons over toward her, walking them on the surface of the table toward her outstretched forehoof. “Well, there has to be someone in your life that lets you get under your wings.” I punctuated my point by tapping on the outer edge of her hoof, only to see her face and retract them back toward me. “And with how you’re looking at me right now, it looks like you’re not with anyone.”

She sighed. “Yeah… I don’t have anyone, Anon.”

That… reaction made me pause. Those purple beady eyes of hers wore shock like it was in style, quivering in the light. I didn’t check to see her wings unfurled, a flirtatious signal very obvious to most ponies, especially if those wings were twitching. I didn’t see anything else on her face that indicated a want of me. Her lip quivering as her eyes darted elsewhere told me that she wanted out of this conversation more than anything else. Then, a gasp, a gasp that changed her entire structure. Her eyes grew wider somehow, while her jaw hung low. And a deep shaky breath escaped her before she closed her maw. It’s like that one breath sucked out what little air she had left. She took a deep breath and closed her maw, sucking in what little air she had left, while her ears twitched closer and closer to the sides of her head.

And then I noticed her further, zooming out with each snapshot I took. Her ears twitched as they folded back toward her nape. She squirmed in her seat. Her forehooves... they were shaking a bit, the most on the one I had touched prior.

My eyes widened.

She didn’t like my touch. She didn’t like this conversation.

She didn’t like me. She didn’t like me!

I took my arm back, holding it like I touched something that was scalding. “Uh… sorry. I think I made you uncomfortable and—”

“No!” she uncharacteristically shouted. It made a couple patrons look at us, probably for disturbing the peace. But then they looked away as we shared their curiosity of them, and everything went back to ‘normal’, except for me. Sweat raced down my cheeks and I wondered which tough pony cranked the thermostat ten degrees higher than it should be.

I’d never get that answer though. She made the first move.

“No, Anon. I… I need to talk to you about this.”

We need to talk.

She didn’t say the words like that specifically, but enough to remind me of those four words. No matter how they were spun, they were my kryptonite, a lover’s worst nightmare. Rarely did those words mean something positive. They always, always led to some sort of negative outcome. It was a course of action meant to be left unexplored, but now had to be explored because somebody slipped up. And in my case, it was me. It was actually me this time and that’s how it was going to be—okay, okay, Starlight, do not start glaring at me like I’m causing World War 3!

…

World Wars are bloody and I don’t need you asking that right now. History lesson of humans later, Twilight rejecting me again in 4k with everyone watching and prepping my gravestone now. Okay, maybe the gravestone is a bit overkill. They’ll put a cross instead—youch! Careful! I don’t have a biting kink, Starlight. Jesus H and M Christ.

…

Okay, I’ll stop! I’ll stop. Phew! Don’t bite me again. Please. I think you broke through my skin—oh, wait why are you licking me now?

…

Oh, you’re creating a salve. Nice. Leaves and pony slobber equals instant healing. Got it. Magic is sooooo good, ain’t it?

…

Whatever. While you’re nursing me by doing that, I’ll keep going. So, she said those words, and those words were awful. They left a pit in my stomach. A cherry pit to be exact. Nearly cracked my tooth on one of those. I tried biting into the pit that was metaphorically left there, but all I got was air and a ‘raise the brow highly on this one’ Twilight to boot. “Anon, are you okay?”

“I… I don’t know. Depends on what you want to talk about.”

“Right,” she intoned, keeping her timbre flatter than my chances of getting out of here without getting kicked square in the groin. Her eyes, once full of life, looked serious, void of those sparkles. Somehow, they were still pretty to me. Maybe I imagined a couple at the time, but they were clear as day void to me now. “I hate that I have to say this. We just got here, and I was hoping to talk to you to get my mind off of things, but…"

"But?"

Twilight threw her hooves in the air and groaned. "This is all my fault.”

“Your fault?”

“I have been forcing myself to put on a guise, one that is way more... flirtatious than I normally am. Have you noticed?”

“Flirtatious?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight began, twiddling with her forehooves as a rather dissatisfied harrumph aired itself out. “Rarity said it would get more stallions to notice me. Instead, no one else but you noticed, which was fine at the time, but then I noticed that you reciprocated more, and I thought maybe I needed to look at this from a different angle. Think of it like practicing. So I practiced on you to really understand how to do it, but it got me nowhere outside of you. No stallion wants me like that anyway—"

Seeing her muzzle scrunch up made me leap into action. “Stopping you right there. I’m not having any of that. Even if you’re sounding like you’re turning me down, I’m not letting you put yourself down in the process.”

“Really? Even though I’m—”

“I kind of figured it out with how you’ve said all this. No woman back on Earth would say those words without the intention of sending you on a one-way ticket back home.”

She… paused and licked her lips. A slight wince was visible on her face. I looked to her side and noticed one of her wings slightly unfurling. Was that a tic of hers? “I see… then, Anon, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

Twilight gulped. “Can you say it to me?”

At first, I didn’t know what she was referring to. The anticipation was already ticking me down and I wasn’t really focused, but somehow I realized that she was referring to me confessing to her. I had this all written out in my head, a plan of sorts, but that’s what happens when not everything is scripted. That’s my fault, I should never expect things to work so fairytale-esque.

“Are you sure?”

Twilight nodded, leaning forward in case I decided to whisper them instead.

Fortunately for her, I was a fan of just saying things the way they should be. Blunt. At the right volume. The right tone.

“I like you, Twilight.”

She blushed momentarily, but coughed away her emotions, forcing herself to clear her throat. “I-I... guess we really needed to talk about this, then."

I hung my head and gulped in my emotions too. “Uh, I guess? Could you… spell it out just to be sure?”

She took a deep breath and stared at me with a determined gaze, brows furrowed. “I… I don’t like you like that, Anon. I’m sorry.”

I knew it was coming but I felt my heart stop beating, choosing to stay still as the words echoed in my ears. I’m sorry, I’m sorry you don’t like me like that. Is there something I can do to fix it? Anything? Maybe I had to try, right? But maybe I can’t. She said those four words… I—it’s not my fault, huh? Really? Is it?

…

Alright, alright! So, she didn’t stop there. She went back to that stallion point of hers, like it really stuck with her or something:

“I shouldn’t have done that when you’re not a stallion…”

I had kept those emotions hitched in the back of my throat, while I tilted my head at her, confused. She didn’t like me because I wasn’t a horse? “Is that mainly why?”

Another nod, this time more curt. “Mostly. Every mare wants a stallion, Anon.”

“Every… mare wants a stallion?”

I didn’t know what to say. I just listened to her as she spoke, “Mmhm. It’s part of our nature. We have to, since, well, there's not many stallions to go around. For every three mares, there's one stallion. Three, Anon. I know I’m leaving a lot of the love out of the equation right now, but the sciences give me what I need here. Science doesn’t let a mare go beyond her own species. So if they want to have a foal, they need to find a stallion, and nothing more.

“It’s not that I don’t like you as you, Anon. You’re… a great human. If you were an actual stallion, I’d be more inclined to reciprocate, but…” Her voice trailed off here for a moment, fiddling with her hair with a forehoof. She looked around and saw a couple ponies were staring at us, probably. I don’t know, I can’t remember much from that time, mostly because other ponies didn’t matter when the one who I cared for the most was putting me down in the most lopsided way possible. “But you’re not a pony. You’re a variable I can’t account for, one that won't allow me to have the future I want.”

“Guess this interspecies conundrum just adds to your stress, huh?”

“Exactly—wait, Anon, how did you—”

I felt a few streaks on my cheek, but I kept my composure. I held onto the table, gripping it tightly with one, while the other stayed close to my leg, pinching me just to make sure this was real. Trust me, I pinched hard. I wasn’t dreaming. It was happening, and it was real, if the pain that grew around my thigh was an indicator. "Twilight. I know you're stressed. We lived together, remember?"

She nodded, her gaze drifting elsewhere. "I know and—"

"Those were some good times. I... I felt great being there in the castle with you. It was good to just lie low some nights and read together."

She choked back on what I thought were her emotions. It could also be a bit of her salad. "Anon..."

"But now I know that me being here is causing you stress instead of helping you relax like I did back then, I… I think I need to hear everything else. So, Twilight..."

"Y-Yes, Anon?"

I gulped. "Tell me why you don’t like me like that, and tell me it straight.”

She was shaking now, almost like a leaf. "A-Are you sure?”

She tossed the question right back at me, like it was a game of Hot Potato and I was the one now holding it tightly, letting it sear my hands on purpose.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Silence reigned for a moment, in our little bubble of ours. Surrounding us was the chaos of the cafe. This fancy one operated more like a restaurant: servers walking all around us, holding food. I think ours, some short stack with a silver mane and wings, was waiting somewhere. She probably sensed the situation and took a step back. Courteous, but I wished she just came up and stopped this. But another part of me knew that if I didn’t hear Twilight out, I’d be sick to my stomach.

I focused more on her and sighed. “You know, you could just—”

“You’re abrasive, Anon.”

“Abrasive?” I said with an eyebrow raised high. “How so?”

“You play around like everything’s a joke lately. A tease one moment, then a full frontal assault on my very existence the next. There’s no off button with you, and I tried figuring out why. At first, I chalked it up as you missing your family. I couldn’t imagine that happening to me, but if I was in your horseshoe—er, shoes, I suppose, I’d wonder if I could withstand it like you’ve had so far. At the same time, it didn’t seem to stem from that. You never mentioned any of it anyway, so I felt wrong to assume and gave up on attempting to see reason. It’s a flaw of yours for sure, and I just came to accept it as ‘Anon being Anon’ but I need to tell you that. You’re a great guy when you’re not being you in that way. Does that make sense?”

“I didn’t know you didn't—”

“And even if that flaw reared its head, I would be able to handle it… if you were a stallion. Love can change ponies, especially if by necessity. However, with you being a human, I… I don’t see how that could happen. Even if we somehow transformed you into a pony by some forbidden spell, like a changeling could, it wouldn’t change the fact you wouldn’t be able to sire me. Your chromosomes, those interconnecting pieces of code, those strings of you; they stay the same. You just morph into that and… it just makes you part of what could be, not what you truly are.”

“My humanity.”

“Exactly. I don’t want to rip your humanity from you. It’d be… not of you, not who you are. I can't just magic this away, and even if there was a potion in the natural world that could, it would only be temporary, and it could cause abnormalities that I don’t even want you to think about. I want you to be yourself, and for that to happen, I can't be with you. We can't fit in that space of friendship.”

“Fit in that space of friendship? Am I that unlikable, Twilight?”

Her muzzle scrunched up at that one. Must have hit it on the head.

“Attraction-wise? Unfortunately, it’s a toss-up. As a friend? No, not entirely.” She sighed. “You’re dependable when you need to be, and when you’re not joking around, you actually care about other ponies. But those jokes… and that lack of care, they’re glaring, Anon. Not to mention your deep-seated desire to just throw in the towel, it… it makes you jaded. Your decisions are scattered. One moment, you’re fine. You’ll be nice to my friends. You’ll pay attention to what everypony is saying. You’ll be so intune with us that I’m shocked you’re even there. You’ll do everything right. And then when it comes to you and I, there’s… something. A spark, and then nothing. You felt it too, right?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Twilight. I always felt a spark.”

“Then it was only me that felt that way…” She hummed to herself as her voice faded off momentarily. She took a moment to crack her neck before fluttering her eyes closed.

I watched as she just existed. Was she waiting for me to say something?

I shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

She opened her eyes and frowned. “You really can’t say much. It’s already decided. Whenever I include you as a variable in this equation I have mapped out in my head, everything goes wrong. You’re not part of the solution, Anon. And neither am I. But…” She paused and bit her lip before continuing, “I’m selfish, in a way. I don’t want you to be far from me, but I can’t have you close like that either. It always ends with heartbreak.”

“How did you figure this all out, Twilight?”

“How?” she asked with a head tilt.

“How do you know that we won’t work out? Do you have some magical machine mumbo-jumbo that simulates us together and we just… argue or kill each other?”

“No. Just numbers and observations, Anon. With how you behave, I think I'd have to dictate more time to you just to make us work and... with you not being a stallion..." She dropped off momentarily, giving her head a bit of a shake. "Sorry, I'm all over the place right now. There's so much to say and I feel like I'm rambling right now.”

“I know. Lots of analysis, huh?"

"Of course. I'm analytic, you know that."

"To a fault…” I murmured, flipping a fork in-between my fingers. The fork lands unceremoniously on the table, clattering against its lifeless shell.

She glared at me for that one, but then her expression softened too. “I guess I am. I... I'm sorry I made you feel this way."

My heart ached as she said those words. Apologizing so quickly after rejecting me... She didn't deserve to say that at the time. Right, Starlight?

…

Alright, I’ll get to the end here. There’s not much left.

“I don’t think that’s how that works, Twilight. You can’t feel sorry for someone you just turned down in the most hammerfisted way.”

She shrugged with her wings, before they fell back to her sides. “I can’t help it. I’m apologetic in the worst of times too. Such a great friend, aren’t I?”

“Yeah…”

At this point, my stomach was clawing out, not due to hunger, but to try and stamp out what little emotions I had left for her. I didn’t want them escaping. I didn’t need her grief.

That’s what I told myself.

“So, this is the end?”

“The end of what?”

“Of us.”

“Not in the friendly—”

“Twilight,” I growled out. Her ears stood at attention, but as I spoke, they splayed against her head. “I don’t want to be friends with someone who just shot my heart in a back alley with her analysis of my being. You either have me or you don’t. And from what you told me, you don’t want me, which is fine. I can’t hold you to my feelings. They’re mine alone, I guess… What I’m trying to say is I need a break from you. A long one, one that’ll give me enough time to… to get over you, to get over us.”

Twilight looked at me sorta gobsmacked, like I just smacked her in the face with my hand. She must’ve realized that the anger she so criticized had been boiling to a point that she could recognize it on my face. Her red blush probably burned the tears away. “Whatever makes you happy, Anon. That’s all I would want.”

What would’ve made me happy was her saying yes. If she did, would that have been torture to her? Most likely. I… I didn’t want that for her. So, I gave her the ultimatum that ultimately left me alone.

“That’s… that’s good to hear.”

She cleared her throat. “Well, I’m sorry about all this. I can pay—"

“No, Twilight. Don't worry about it. We didn’t even really order anything, so I’ll pay if they ask.”

“You’ll pay?”

I nodded. “Sure. I don’t want you to feel burdened by my mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mis—” She stopped as my gaze probably told her what she needed to see. She nodded curtly once more, before exiting to my right, rushing out the door.

The chime above it sounded off, leaving my last view of her mane bouncing away.

The waitress came by to see me. "Are you okay, sir?”

I don’t remember what I said. I don’t remember what I did. I don’t remember how I got back home. I think I cried my way out or something. I don’t know. It’s all a blur at that point.

I remember back home there was a saying about this. Something about not crying over spilled milk. It’s not worth it, it’s not something you want to have happen. There was this other one too, something about there being other fish in the sea. The classics, they never failed to stay consistent.

Unfortunately, I never had experienced them. I never felt like I had to use them. I… This was the first time I spilled the milk. God does it suck to clean it up. I tried a lot of things. Used a box of tissues I had at home. Then I used the rags. They scratched a bit at the skin.

It… It sucks to hear that you’re not worth it to someone. It would’ve been fine if she rejected me, but it’s more than that. Much more than that. I wasn’t worth a damn thing at that point. I was just a human, a subspecies. That’s all I’d ever amount to in her eyes. In all mares' eyes, apparently.

So there it is. That’s the situation, Starlight. I hope this makes sense to you—

Author's Note

Gotta drop one per chapter. Inspo for those who care.

Edits completed on January 2nd, 2025.