Clarity

by Kegisak

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Romance, Slice of Life, Sad
Length: 18484

Sunburst the pegasus leaves his old life behind, travelling to Canterlot in search of freedom.

The road of life is long, and winding. It's hard to follow, but you can stay on it the whole way through. Sometimes you don't want to, though. Sometimes you shouldn't. Sometimes you need to make the wrong decision. Sometimes you need to run off the path, and get lost in the woods so you can find yourself.

Published 2012-01-29 00:19:12 UTC
Last updated 2012-05-20 05:40:11 UTC

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The first thing I remember is the smell of pancakes.

It's funny the things you remember, isn't it? I can hardly remember anything from the night before. I try and I try, but nothing comes to me. It's all so vague, like smoke in the air. It's right there, I know it is, but I can't take hold of it. I don't remember walking home with Neon. I remember the path we walked, because we walked it again later, but I don't remember that particular night. All I do remember from it is this incredible, all-consuming happiness. Maybe that's why I don't remember anything else from that night. Maybe it just didn't matter. All that mattered was that I was happy.

I wasn't happy when I woke up. I must have thought that everything from the night before was a dream. I didn’t even realize that I wasn’t in my own apartment. Even then, the memory was so hazy and dreamlike. For a long time I just lay in bed, drifting in my thoughts. I wasn't really sad; I just felt... empty. I think that's worse, honestly. If I was sad it would have at least been something. All I felt was the weight of the blanket on top of me, pressing me into the mattress. It felt as though I was sinking, like the mattress was going to swallow me whole and never let me escape.

Eventually I did manage to crawl out of the bed, probably drawn out by curiosity. My roommates never really cooked. They would always just order out for something, or if they ever did cook it was those pre-packaged dinners, the sort you just stick in the microwave and eat when you don't have the time or energy to really cook anything. They would never have made pancakes. They barely even made cereal. I didn't really understand it at the time, but it was just so strange to smell cooking food that I needed to go see what it was.

I remember wondering briefly if one of them had had a mare over or something, and she was the one cooking. Or at the very least, they were cooking to try and impress her. The thought drifted away pretty quickly, though. Whenever one of my roommates wanted to spend time with a mare, they'd generally disappear for the night. They always referred to our apartment as “Not mare-friendly”. I guess in a way they were right. There was always... stuff, everywhere. Not like garbage or anything like that, just stuff. Clutter.

That was probably what made me realize that I wasn't actually at my apartment first. I stepped out of the bedroom, and almost instantly I realized it belonged to somepony else. It felt open. Not empty, or bare. Just open. I blinked at the wall across from me for a moment, taking the feeling of openness in. The wall was painted a soft, powdery blue, almost the same colour as Neon's fur. I could feel the soft carpet rubbing against my hooves as I shifted my weight, and hear the soft hiss of pancake batter on the grill from the kitchen.

It was slowly starting to occur to me just what was going on. I realized that the previous night hadn't been a dream, that I really had met Neon in the park and that he really had offered to let me stay with him. My heart started to race, and I'm still not sure if I was more nervous or excited. Part of me wanted him to be nice, to be as cool as I'd remembered from the night before, but I still barely knew him. He'd invited someone he'd only just met into his home. I couldn't put my hoof on it at the time, but something about that scared me.

My nervousness won out, as it always seemed to, and I started to creep the rest of the way into his apartment. The bedroom was in a short hallway, and I had to turn a corner to get into the living room. For a moment I just paused, staring. It was definitely different from my apartment. It was almost like something you would see on the cover of a magazine. There was this big picture window across from me, and the only light in the room was coming from it. It cut across the coffee table and sofa, almost like you'd see in a movie. It's sort of funny, in retrospect. I don't really know if that's what it was really like, or if my memory is just playing tricks on me. That's what the whole thing was like, really, was a movie. Not just the apartment, I mean, but the whole situation. It was like a scene out of a romantic comedy.

I've always really liked romantic comedies. My roommates would make fun of my taste in movies sometimes. They all liked big action movies, or science fiction, or horror. I don't know why, though, but I could never really get into movies like those. Action movies to me always seemed so distant, so unreal. A movie like a romantic comedy, though, I could get into. They felt closer to home than other sorts of movies, like they were the sort of thing that could happen to me someday. I liked that feeling: the thought that some day I could end up living a movie. I think it was always sort of a silly thought, but I thought it anyways. My mind drifted back there while I was standing in the living room, actually. I started to wonder if maybe I had seen something like this before. The nervousness was still there, but it was starting to slip away. I think if it were left on its own it would have faded completely, but it was completely shattered when I heard Neon start to sing.

It was so strange. I don't think I'd ever heard anyone do that before, just start to sing. He didn't even sing quietly, or to himself. He sang like he knew that people were listening, and he didn't care. He sang like he wanted them to listen. His voice was beautiful, so perfectly clear. It was like ringing crystal, cutting through all the other sounds and shoving them away. More than anything, though, it was just so incredibly earnest. I still remember the words he sang perfectly.

“I have set aside everything I love,
I have saved everything else for you,
I cannot decide what this doubt's made of,
Though I've thought over it through and through...”

He stopped singing, and for a moment it was silent. The silence seemed almost sharp, prickling in my ears and drawing out strange things, like a needle drawing blood. Thoughts and feelings, each seemingly omnipresent and far stronger than I had felt in years. They rushed through my mind and body, and for the briefest of moments I felt awake. He poked his head out the kitchen and grinned broadly. His mane was somehow messier than it had been the night before, and he was still wearing his sunglasses. He greeted me cheerfully, breaking me the rest of the way out of my stupor.

“Hey Sunny!” he said happily. “I was wondering when you were going to get up. How's it going?”

“Um,” I said, grappling with the word, “I'm fine. How about you?”

“I am fantastic!” he said, hopping, disappearing back into the kitchen. “I'm making pancakes! You want some?”

“Yeah... yeah, sure. Thanks.” I just kept staring at the door to the kitchen, as though I were expecting him to pop back out at any moment. Or perhaps I expected him to begin singing again. I expected something, at any rate. All I received were more disembodied words from the kitchen.

“Great, because I made waaaaay too many for just me to eat. I'll get you a plate. You want syrup with those? Peanut butter?”

“Just syrup is fine,” I said, walking cautiously into the kitchen. “I don't think I've ever had pancakes with peanut butter...”

“Seriously?” Neon asked, peering at me around the cupboard doors. For however neat the living room was, the kitchen was the picture of chaos. Dishes and utensils were left everywhere, covered in flour and pancake batter. A carton of eggs lay open on the counter, missing half its contents. Two half-done pancakes sizzled on the grill, and a stack rested precariously on a plate on the table. “Man, forget the syrup then. You're having them with peanut butter.”

“What?” I asked, blinking at him. Part of me was still focused on the mess. Next to the storybook perfection of the living room, it seemed almost offensive. “Seriously? Peanut butter? Really?”

“Yeah!” Neon said, “It's great. Trust me, you gotta try at least one.” He grinned at me expectantly, his eyes flicking back to the grill on occasion.

“Ssssssure?” Neon laughed, clapping his hooves together.

“Awesome!” His horn lit up, levitating a spatula and flipping the pancakes on the grill. After a brief inspection he removed them, placing them atop the stack on the table. “You've got great timing, you know that Sunny?” he asked me. “Pancakes are ready! Have a seat.”

I sat at the table, and as I watched Neon prance around the kitchen gathering utensils and toppings, I started to envy his enthusiasm. I know it seems stupid, but I couldn't help it. He bounced around the kitchen like he didn't care about anything at all. It was as if the pancakes were literally the only thing on his mind.

I've never had that sort of enthusiasm. I've never been able to just do something without worrying about what might happen, or thinking about what will come next. I've never been able to treat something like it was the most important thing in the world. Even when I was a teenager, when you're supposed to treat everything like it's the end of the world. I was always wondering about what would happen next. What would I do if this or that happened, what does this or that mean for me and my future? I think sometimes that that was where the problem really came from. That worry. It was always there, hanging over my head like a guillotine, ready to drop if I so much as smiled too widely. I could never be excited for something because of it. I wonder if I would have ever needed to go to Canterlot if I had let myself get excited sometimes. Maybe if I had been excited in Cloudsdale, I would have stayed. I guess that much is obvious.

Honestly, though? I don't really mind. I'm glad that I never got excited like that in Cloudsdale. I wasn't really at the time, though. It's funny that I'm thinking about this now. I was thinking about it then, too. About how I had never been excited for anything in Cloudsdale like Neon was. My mind was starting to drift back home. The strange thing is, it's hard to remember what I was thinking about there, too. It's the same as the night I arrived in Cloudsdale. It's this vague, almost dreamy feeling. I can at least remember the basics, though. I'm pretty sure I was thinking about my parents, which I guess makes sense. They were always the first place my mind went when I started to worry. I would always go to my parents for advice. All ponies will, I guess. I always figured that they probably knew what they were doing. I mean, they'd been through it all once before, right? They probably knew all about what came next, and what you should do about it. I figured I could learn from them. They figured I could learn from their mistakes, at least.

“Sunny!” Neon shouted, snapping me out of my stupor. I shook my head and stared at him.

“... Huh?” I asked. Neon cocked his eyebrow at me.

“You okay, dude? You kinda left us for a minute there.”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, shaking my head again. “Yeah, I'm fine. I just... I’m still waking up.”
Neon nodded. “Not a morning guy, huh? Sorry–my roommate wasn't a morning person, and she hated when I got like this.”

“No, it's alright,” I said. I paused then, Neon’s words seeping in completely. The worry was back again, though that time I couldn't think of why it was there. I know now, of course, but back then it was baffling. “Your roommate was a mare?” I asked. “Was, uh... she your marefriend?”

“Huh?” Neon asked, for once visibly surprised. He paused for just a moment, then laughed.
“Hah! Naw, she wasn't my marefriend. Probably wouldn't have gotten a two-bedroom with her if she was... no, she actually moved out to live with her coltfriend.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
“Anyways, back when you were in la-la land I was asking how you were liking the pancakes?” I blinked at him.

“What?” I asked, looking down. I realized that I had been moving completely on autopilot and started eating without realizing it. The taste of peanut butter still lingered in my mouth, but I didn't really remember what the pancakes had been like. “Um...” I said, staring at my plate. It seemed to stare back, accusing me of some silent apathy.

“Ooh!” Neon shouted, clutching at his chest dramatically. “Ouch, that hurts. That hurts me, Sunny!” He grinned at me from behind his sunglasses and his horn lit up, sliding the plate of pancakes away from me. “If you're gonna be like that,” he said, “I'll just have to finish all these by myself.” He lifted the pancake on top of the stack, flopping it onto his plate and spreading it with peanut butter. I sat in silence for a while, watching him eat. I'm not sure if he noticed or not. His glasses made it hard to see what he was looking at, or even to discern his expression sometimes. I noticed then that his mouth was strangely expressive. It was always doing something, even more than just frowning or smiling. It was always moving, I guess filling in for his eyes. In a way it was almost cartoonish, but it was also sort of mesmerizing. I found myself drifting away again, but this time instead of slipping back into my head, I started to talk without realizing it.

“Actually,” I said, “can I have another? Another pancake, I mean?” Neon looked up at me, and laughed.

“That's the spirit, Sunny!” His horn lit up, and a pancake drifted off the stack and onto my plate. “You want the syrup, or the peanut butter?”

“Mm... the peanut butter, please,” I said.

“Of course!” Neon said, passing me the jar.

Some part of me was aware of what was really happening. At the time I just thought I was just slipping back into my head, like I had when I left my apartment. Slipping back into that comfortable vagueness, that strange dreamy silence. The thing is, though, I remembered. I was still aware of what was happening. I never switched off like I would every other time. The lights were still on, and I could still see. Some part of me realized that, whether I was doing it willingly or not, I was letting Neon draw me out. Even looking back on it now it feels amazing, the way he did it.

I was studying as a light technician at Cloudsdale University. It's the sort of job where you have to meet with a lot of ponies. Everything needs light, right? Everything deals with light. So I wound up talking to a lot of different ponies, and a lot of them I had a lot of stuff in common with. The thing is, I wasn't ever really that good at making friends. I could meet the ponies, and talk to them, but I never really made a connection with most of them. I had friends, I guess, but for the most part I just... slipped away. I just sat back and let it happen. I guess I don't really need to say that I'm a passive pony by this point, but I am. I was always fine with just letting things happen, and I guess all those other ponies never really felt like working to get through to me. They all had their own problems to deal with, I guess.

I'd never, ever met another pony like Neon Lights. I'd never met a pony who could make me talk like that. That's all that we did. We sat in the kitchen, talking over pancakes. We didn't even talk about anything special. We might as well have been talking about the wallpaper. I think even that would have made me happy. That's what I was. Happy. Purely, wonderfully happy.

“These are really good!” I complimented through a mouthful of peanut butter-covered pancakes. Neon laughed at my goofy grin.

“Good to hear it,” he said. “And good to see you feeling better.”

“Huh?” I asked. “What do you mean, feeling better?” I knew what he meant, of course, but I didn't really want to admit it. I could feel myself start to shrink back again, and I think Neon must have noticed that too. He waved his hoof nonchalantly.

“Better,” he said, adjusting his glasses and looking away, “more awake, less asleep. Whatever. You know what I mean.”

“Oh!” I said. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm starting to wake up a lot more.” Neon smiled again. It wasn't his usual grin this time, though. It was smaller, and softer.

“Good to hear,” he said. “You want any more pancakes?”

“Oh, no thanks,” I said. “I'm stuffed.”
This time, Neon grinned. “That's a pretty good place to be, you ask me,” he said. “Guess that means I gotta toss these things in the fridge, though.” He got up from his seat, opening the cupboards beneath the counter. He fished around in them for a moment before producing a small Tuppermare container, which he started to load the few remaining pancakes into. Almost without thinking about it I got up too, taking the dishes to the sink. I started to fill it up with soap and water before Neon set down the pancakes.

“Whoa, whoa whoa, dude!” He said, “What are you doing?”

“Uh, the dishes,” I said, taken aback. “Why?”

“You don't have to do that, Sunny,” he said, “I can get them.”

“No, it's alright,” I said. “I mean, you did make me breakfast and all...”

“Yeah, 'cause I was trying to be a good host. And, you know, being a host sort of means not getting your guest to do your dishes.”

“You also let me stay with you,” I said. It's sort of funny just how much I was pushing to do it. Any other time I'd have just done as he said, but I was sort of enjoying my moment of activity. I wanted to do the dishes. I wanted to choose to do them. “It's cool. I'm used to doing other pony's dishes anyways. My roommates aren't exactly as neat as you...” I must have sounded a bit sullen as I trailed off, but Neon simply shrugged.

“Well, if you insist. Just at least let me help you out there, okay?” He put the pancakes in the fridge, joining me by the sink. It was small, and tucked in the corner of the kitchen. We were close, almost bumping hips. My heart started to beat faster again, and that time I knew exactly what it was. I remember smiling awkwardly. The sort of smile that doesn't want to start, but you don't really have a choice in the matter. The sort of smile that creeps into your lips a little bit at a time, and makes you want to laugh even when you've got nothing to laugh about. We set to work washing the dishes, the soft clinking and clacking a soundtrack for our conversation.

“So,” he said, “Your roommates don't do much dishes, huh?”

“Eh...” I said vaguely, “yeah, not really. They honestly don't do a whole lot of cleaning, for the most part. I do my best, but four stallions just make too much mess for one to clean, you know? At least clutter doesn't start to stink, so that's not too bad, but the dishes sort of need to get done.”
Neon chuckled. “I hear that. Kinda sucks having lousy roommates, huh?”
I shrugged. My good mood was starting to fade, and I could feel that dreamy feeling slipping in again. “Well... I wouldn't really call them bad, just... I don't know. They're cool stallions, you know? It's just that being alright with somepony and living with them... aren't the same thing. It can wear on you after a while.” That was an understatement. The dreamy feeling was there, but it wasn't taking over. I still felt clear. I could feel things in a way that I hadn't before, see things more clearly. I could feel it building up inside me, trying to get out... I wanted it to. I let it.

“There's three of them. We live in a little apartment, so we have to double up in the bedrooms. That's the worst of it, I guess. I don't really get time to myself. Sometimes I have to sleep on the couch for some reason or another, but it's not like it makes a difference. I mean, it's not like I could really call my bedroom mine anyways. The guy I share a room with... he's probably the worst of us. His stuff just sort of spreads out. He's a really relaxed guy, so he doesn't exactly give much thought to picking up after himself.

“He was always telling me to relax, telling me I needed to 'chill out'. I mean, I guess I could get kinda short with him about picking up his stuff. I've always been a clean sort of guy. Not like super clean, I just don't like stuff lying everywhere. You get used to it, though. I just kinda wish I didn't have to feel like the bad guy for wanting stuff to be clean now and again. But I'm outvoted there, so I just went with the flow.

“They've all got a lot more in common with each other than me, I guess. I just feel like an outsider sometimes, you know? Like, they're all friends and I'm just the guy who's there. When they graduate they'll all stay friends, and I'll just move on. I'm 'temporary'. I'm just kinda drifting through their lives... I mean, I want to get to know them, but it's just so hard. We don't like the same movies, or the same music, they know what they want and they aren't changing it for anything. Hell, I don't even like m-” I stopped suddenly, as I realized that my talking had turned pretty quickly into ranting. I peered up at Neon. I couldn't see his eyes behind his glasses, but he was still and quiet.

“I...” I said slowly. “Sorry. That, um... I didn't really mean to talk your ear off, like that.”

“Ah, don't worry about it,” Neon said, suddenly becoming animated again. “Everybody needs to get a load off now and again, I know what that's like. I know what it's like to be around ponies you don't have much in common with, too. It can be rough.” He nudged me playfully, and smiled softly–almost sweetly–at me. He seemed to radiate warmth. I imagined I could walk out with him into the bitter coldness right then, and feel as though it were spring. “Don't worry about it. I'm happy to lend an ear if you ever need it.”

“Thanks...” I said. I sort of doubted how much he was telling the truth. Neon seemed to be so confident, so strong, so sure. It was hard for me to believe that he'd ever felt the same as I did. Those feelings I was just beginning to realize I had.

“Don't mention it,” Neon said. “Gotta get it out, right? Especially if you have to go back...”

He kept talking, but I don’t know what he said. I had stopped listening. A feeling of sickness had washed over me, creeping through my veins like some evil bug. His words echoed in my ears, ringing in my head like a funeral bell. If I had to go back, he had said. I had to go back.

“Speaking of,” he said as I came back to equestria, “I'm gonna go get dressed. I still want to show you something before you end up leaving. You aren't in much of a rush to head home, are you?”

“No,” I said, maybe a bit too eagerly. “No, I'm not in a hurry.” I couldn't discern Neon's expression from behind his sunglasses, but he shrugged.

“Cool... you wanna hang out around the city before I show you the thing? If you've never been on the ground before, I bet there's a lot of stuff you've never seen. I'd really like the chance to show you around.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That sounds like a lot of fun, actually.” Part of that was the truth, but mostly I was just glad to have the opportunity to put off going home just a little bit longer.

“Awesome!” Neon said happily. “I'm just gonna go throw something on. Make yourself at home. The sofa's crazy comfy.”

“Thanks,” I said, following him into the living room. He trotted away, disappearing into the hallway, while I moved slowly to the couch. I slumped down, but I didn't take the time to notice whether Neon had been right about his couch or not. I felt like I'd just been stabbed through the heart. For however long it had lasted, I had been happy spending time with Neon. I didn't have to think about home, or university, or my roommates, or my parents. I didn't have to think about living my life, or about making a mistake that would ruin everything. There I was, though, worrying.

My mind started to wander again. My head was still clear, though. I didn't fade away. I didn't just passively accept it. I don't really know why, even now, but this time I thought about it. I had always wondered just how much a single moment of clarity can do... but apparently a moment can be enough.

I thought about my parents, first. My parents were strict. Not the sort of strict that punishes you a lot or puts a lot of limitations on you. The sort of strict that's disappointed in you when you do something wrong. The sort of strict that makes you feel guilty. All the time I was growing up, my parents would tell me about mistakes that they had made, or that their parents had made raising them. It was as though they had this list I never saw of mistakes that they were determined not to let happen. They would always step in if I was about to make one of their mistakes, whether it be trying to fly too high before I was strong enough, or to make the wrong friends.

Before too long I just got used to listening to them, I guess. I mean, they seemed to be right at the time. The few times I did make one of their mistakes it was always bad, so I decided they were probably right. As I got older, though, their mistakes started to get more confusing. They stopped being things like taking drugs, and started being things like not studying hard enough to get into a good university. I didn't want to make the mistakes, obviously, so I went along with it. I had always just accepted it. The same way I'd always accepted everything. I just passively let them guide me and followed their path. It wasn't always that dreamlike state, obviously. Not at first. It still happened from time to time, but only when things got really rough. My only relationship with a mare is like a dream. Breaking my leg when I was a teenager is like a dream. The thing is, the longer things went on, the easier it was to slip into the dream... and sitting on that couch, I finally started to realize it. Even there, I could feel the dreaminess. I lingered in the back of my mind all the time, waiting for it’s chance to slip in. The more I thought about it, the more I could feel it. It draped over my shoulders like a blanket. It had always felt warm, before, a comfortable silence. Sitting on the couch, though, it felt different. It just felt heavy, weighing on my shoulders and tightening over my chest. My head began to feel full, as though it had been stuffed with cotton. Bit by bit, I began to realise that these weren’t new feelings. I had always been feeling them, I just hadn’t noticed.

I was afraid. I think I had been afraid for a long time, in a way. So subtly afraid, for so many years, pushed down to the bottom of my mind. For once, though, I wasn't pushing it away. I could feel it, loud and strong. I know that it was Neon. I don't know what it was about him... but with him, I was happy. With him, my head felt clear. With him I wanted to do things. I wanted to be active, to be silly, to be excited. I wanted to gush over the way the light glinted off his sunglasses. I wanted to calculate the position of the sun based on the light through the window. I wanted to account for the refraction of the glass. I wanted to play with a prism like I did when I was little. I wanted to do so many things, things that I hadn't wanted to do in years. I wanted to things I hadn't ever done, like play in the snow. That weight hung on me so heavily, but for the first time in ages I didn’t want to give in to it. I didn’t want to slip away, or to forget. It felt as though I was finally beginning to understand, beginning to come out of a dream. I didn’t want to go back to sleep. I wanted to wake up.

I was more afraid than ever. I was so desperately afraid that the weight would pull me down, and that I would fall into the sleep again. I think I began to panic there, on that couch. I could feel the vagueness slip in. For a moment, it seemed like I would lose, and fall asleep... but I didn’t. An alarm came for me. Perhaps he woke me up. Perhaps he gave me the will to wake up on my own. Even now, I’m still not sure. It was beautiful, though. He was beautiful.

“Hey Sunny,” Neon said. His voice felt warm, like the summer sun on your face first thing in the morning. It was soft and smooth, like audible cream. I looked up at him from the couch and blinked. He even looked warm.
His mane was as messy as ever, falling haphazardly around his horn and down his neck. He wore a black button-up shirt with a small white silk tie hanging loose in the front. It was simple, but it suited him. The sunlight glinted off his glasses, and he was smiling that same soft smile he had given me over breakfast. In that moment, I could feel the vagueness slip away. The weight lifted, and my head cleared. I was awake.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” I said quietly. I got off the couch and trotted with him to his front door. As I wrapped my scarf around my neck, he slipped into the same coat and scarf he had been wearing when I'd met him.

“If you were going to cover it up, why get dressed?” I asked. Neon paused for a moment, then smiled sheepishly.

“That's... a really good question, actually,” he admitted. “I don't know. Principle, I guess?” His smile turned sly, and he added, “Or maybe I just like showing off.” It was hard to tell, but I think he winked at me behind his sunglasses.

I still wasn't sure what was happening, then. I was so confused, my head reeling with too many conflicting feelings and emotions. It was as if this were the first time in years I was really feeling something. There were two things I did know, though. I knew that when I was around Neon I was happy, and I knew that whatever else happened, I didn't want to go home.

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was early in the afternoon, and the sky was bright and clear. It was one of the most vivid blues I had ever seen, like the gods had painted it by hoof. The world was perfectly illuminated, and I'll admit that it looked a bit like home for a minute.

I had never seen snow before then. It looked a lot like clouds, all white and bunching in mounds, drifting across the ground and painting the world. Clouds never sparkled like this, though. The snow was diamonds on the ground, glittering and sparkling in the sunlight. It made the world all the brighter, banishing shadow and inviting the sun in close.

While I was admiring the strange new view, Neon was shielding his eyes. He grumbled beneath his breath, squinting into the bright afternoon. I peered up at him, and I remember thinking how strange it was that somepony wearing sunglasses had troubles with the light. I told him so.

“Shouldn't I be the one squinting?” I asked. I shuffled my hoof a bit as I realized that might have sounded rude. “I mean, you're wearing sunglasses and all.” Neon gave a wry chuckle.

“Yeah... and I wear them inside for a reason. They're prescription. Light and my eyes... they don't get along so good, so I need to wear them all the time. If it weren't for them, I'd be on the ground right now.” I thought about that for a moment, and then I remembered that he had been wearing his glasses when I'd first met him, too – in the middle of the night.

“Is that why you were wearing them at night, too?” I asked. Neon nodded, smirking suddenly.

“Well,” he said, rolling his head a bit, “That, and so I can keep track of the visions in my eyes.” I stared at him for a moment after that. I don't remember exactly what I thought about him, but I don't think it was anything kind. He laughed, but strangely it wasn't an awkward laugh like you might expect. It was more like he was laughing at his own personal joke. “Not a musical pony, huh?” he asked, brushing his mane lightly. “Well, never mind. Not a big deal. Anyways, was there anything in particular you wanted to do here? I mean, you're the guest, so...”

I blinked a few times, and my face screwed up in concentration. “I, um...” I said, letting the whistling of the gentle breeze fill my silence, “I really have no idea. I mean, I've never even been on the ground before... what kind of 'ground stuff' do you do?”

Neon thought for a moment, tapping his hoof against the ground. “Well,” he said, beginning to meander away, “We've got cafes... we've got malls... we've got clubs... I don't know, though. I guess you've probably got all of those?” He peered over at his shoulder at me, as if apologizing. I shrugged.

“Yeah...” I admitted. “Still, ones on the ground might be different?”

“Well, maybe,” Neon said. A slow smile spread across his face. “I can think of one think you probably don't have up there, though...”

“What's that?” I asked, suddenly a bit suspicious. Perhaps it was the smile, which had continued to spread across his muzzle. Perhaps it was the way he turned: slowly, as if he were hoping I wouldn't notice. Perhaps it was that I noticed he was standing hoof-deep in a snowbank.

“Snowballs!” he cried, whipping his buried hoof towards me. A clump of snow lobbed through the air, planting itself squarely on my face in a big wet mess. I stood there for a while, my mouth hanging open as the snow melted and ran through my fur. Its chill bit at my skin, but it was somehow nice. I noticed Neon's smile start to fade, and shot a grin back at him.

“Oh, snowballs?” I asked, shuffling my wings. Neon's smile continued to fade, and he started to look a bit worried. I spread my wing out, brushing it along the ground. “I think I can do that.” I twisted my wing, scooping up a pile of the cool whiteness and flinging it at the shocked unicorn. He started violently, but he couldn't react in time to escape the avalanche.

“Bwah!” he exclaimed, shaking the mounds of snow off of his face. He threw his head back laughing and gathered another hoofful of snow, flinging it in my direction.

“So that's how you want to play it, huh?” he shouted as I ducked under the snowball. His horn lit up, and I turned just in time to take the glowing snowball square in the face once more. I spluttered, trying to laugh through the snow and nearly choking for my troubles. I tossed another pile of snow at Neon, but he ducked under it and took off down the street. I chased after him, and together we ran aimlessly, stopping only to send another flurry of snowballs back and forth. I don't think either of us were really paying attention to where we were going; I know I wasn't. I was just enjoying the moment with Neon. It had been a long time since I'd been able to do that.

Our miniature battle took us through side streets and back alleys. Snow flew between us, and we struggles to laugh through short breath. We were like school foals, giggling and playing like there was no tomorrow. For a moment we stopped, though there was no reprieve. We stood on opposite sides of some sort of heater. It billowed smoke and steam, obscuring our vision of one another and turning the narrow alley into some kind of ancient arena in our imaginations. We leaned two and fro, each of us trying to surprise the other and gain the edge. Neon feinted left, and a snowball struck me from the right as I fell for his ruse. I laughed, wiping the packed snow from my face and whipping it back at him through the smoke. He ducked under it, and once more we were off.

The alley deposited us onto a broad street. Neon tried to take advantage of the newfound space by turning sharply, but the ground was still slick with snow. A snowball of mine was the final straw, throwing him off his balance on the slippery surface and sending him sliding to the ground. I skidded up to him, barely upright myself, and together we both collapsed in a fit of laughter.

I had no idea where we were. It was just some other part of the city, as far as I was concerned. Neon and I sat on the curb, laughing at each other even as the other ponies on the street shot us weird looks. I think we must have been in a higher-class neighborhood, since they were all dressed a lot fancier than us. Well, fancier than me at least – Neon seemed a bit closer to their level than mine. It's funny, normally I would have felt really self-conscious there or out of place. In a way I did, I guess. I mean, I knew that I was out of my element. All the ponies around us were probably rich, high-society types. I must have looked like a freak, or some kind of country bumpkin, playing in the snow like that. I really didn't care, though. I knew I was out of place, and for some reason I actually liked that.

Neon stopped laughing before I did, although the smile he had plastered across his face never faded. He leaned back, wiping a bit of slush of his nose and adjusting his glasses. Behind them, I saw his eyes flick towards me.

“So,” he said, “snowballs?”

“Snowballs,” I said. It was only one word, but there was a lot in it. It was an agreement, an expression of gratitude and happiness. Neon understood, and he gave a small nod.

“Coffee?” he asked. That time I didn't quite understand the question as well.

“Coffee?” I asked. Neon got up, and offered me his hoof. I took it, pulling myself off the curb with his help. He gestured to a shop down the street, where a unicorn – he couldn't have been older than a teenager – was taking tables and chair inside.

“Coffee!” he said happily, and I guessed that he must have been referring to the shop. He trotted down the street, and I followed after him as he returned to using full sentences. “It'll warm us up after all that. I don't know about you, but I could sure use it.”

I thought about it a bit, and realized he was right. I could feel the snow starting to melt, dribbling down my neck and soaking into my fur. I shook myself all over, getting rid of the excess slush, but it was too late. It had already begun its slow chill, and I shivered. Neon laughed, taking that as a sign of my agreement. His horn lit up, swinging the door to the shop open.

Once we were inside, any doubts I might have had that we were in a high-class place disappeared. Almost all of the ponies inside were unicorns, and they were all dressed lavishly. The stallions wore button-up shirts with handsome ties, and the mares all had their manes elegantly styled and done up. I had only ever seen other students in coffee shops before; tired pegasi with drooping wings and stringy hair, nursing their coffee like it was a life-giving god. The ponies in this shop sipped gently at their drinks from porcelain cups, chatting gently over small treats. I almost laughed at how different it was, how absurd it all seemed. A few of the customers shot me disapproving glances, but Neon seemed to agree with me. He led me to a small table in the back, and we sat down. I unwound my scarf as he shrugged off his coat, both of us letting ourselves dry out in the warm atmosphere.

A haughty-looking unicorn approached us, and Neon ordered two of some drink that I'd never even heard of.

“I thought you said we were getting coffee?” I asked him. Neon snickered as the waiter glowered at me, and waved his hoof.

“We are, we are,” he said. “They just don't call it that here. Too 'common', right?” He glanced meaningfully at the waiter, who coked an eyebrow.

“Your 'coffee' will be right up, sirs,” the waiter said, turning his back on us. Neon pulled a face at him, and I suppressed a laugh. Neon, however, made no such effort. He laughed openly and heartily, his voice like the pealing of a bell. A few ponies looked our way, and I sunk into my chair a bit. I was still in a much better mood than I had been in for a long time, but now that mirth had faded I could feel their eyes on me. The numbness might have been holding back, but I could still feel the familiar wrongness. It was worse than normal, actually. Normally it was faint, barely a whisper, but now it felt as though my parents themselves were standing over my shoulders, glaring down at me as though I had done something wrong. I felt almost guilty. The more I thought about it the worse the feeling became, stifling my good mood.

“Don't worry too much about them,” Neon said, clearly sensing my discomfort. “Ponies like these take everything too seriously. They think they have to, because they've got so much money... well, that and it's so expensive. They figure they've gotta make it worth it, right?”

“Expensive?” I asked, blinking. “It's just coffee, how expensive can it be?” Neon laughed again.

“Oh, you poor naive soul,” he said. “This is a richer part of Canterlot. Everything here is expensive, even the coffee. I bet they don't cost less than five bits apiece.”

“Seriously?” I asked, gaping. “Five bits, just for a coffee?” I reached into my mane, fishing out my wallet to see if I had enough before it lit up up, flying away from me. I looked up and saw that it had been Neon who took it.

“Nuh-uh,” he said. “I'm paying. Don't worry about it.” I stared at him for a moment.

“Are you... sure?” I asked. “I mean, you said it was expensive...”

“That's exactly why I'm paying,” Neon said. “You probably didn't come here with much. I've got bits to burn, so don't worry about it.” He gave me back my wallet, and I tucked it away again. Just as I did, Neon perked up. The waiter had returned without drinks, which he sat in front of us.

“Your Caramel Lattes, sirs,” he said. He turned to me and sneered, “That's 'coffee', sir.” I sunk into my chair again, and Neon shooed the waiter away.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving a flippant hoof at the rude pony. “We can handle it from here, thanks.” He waited until the waiter had left before turning to me and joking, “Man, does that guy ever get any tips?”

“Heh...” I murmured, “yeah.” Kind as Neon was being, the out-of-place feeling had returned. It was as though I had wandered into some place restricted and been caught. Looking at him then, I felt out of place even next to Neon. He blended in with all the other stallions, a pony of class and image. Even his disheveled mane seemed more like a planned style than a proper mess, like mine must have been. I sipped at the drink, trying not to let my discomfort show, but Neon obviously noticed.

“Man, seriously?” he asked. I looked up, confused. His brow had furrowed behind his sunglasses. “I thought I had gotten you in a better mood. Seemed like you were having a good time. What's the matter, you don't like the coffee?”

“Huh?” I asked. “Oh, no... it's nothing.”

“Right. Seriously, it's not because I told you I'd pay, is it?”

“No,” I said, waving my hooves. “No, I appreciate that. I just... I don't know, I guess I feel like I don't belong here.” Neon stared at me, blinking. That obviously hadn't been the answer he expected.

“Don't belong here? Did you wanna go home already?” he asked. I almost choked on the coffee.

“No, no!” I said. I hadn't even thought about that until then, and it certainly didn't help my mood. “I mean, I don't feel like I don't belong here – in this coffee shop. Everypony here looks so rich and fancy... I mean, even you, you're...” I gestured vaguely at his clothes and mane, and Neon looked down at himself self-consciously as I continued. “I'm an engineer. I'm not rich, or fancy, I'm just some pegasus.”

“Is that all?” Neon asked. “I mean, sorry... if I'da known I would have taken you somewhere smaller... but really? I told you not to worry about that.” He sipped his coffee, glancing around the shop. “Man, ponies here just take themselves too seriously. When it comes down to it there's no difference between you and them. You're never out of place if you want to be where you are.” He peered back at me, adding, “Of course, if you don't want to be here, we can go...”

“No,” I said after a moment. “No, that's alright. I'm good here.” I drank from my cup, trying to hide my smile. I didn't know why, but Neon's words had done a lot more to warm me up than the coffee. I looked away from him, my eyes drifting over the patrons of the shop. Suddenly, they didn't seem so imposing. Oh, they still looked haughty and sure, but they weren't being haughty and sure at me. In fact, I don't think they were being haughty and sure at anypony but themselves, telling themselves that their five-bit cups of coffee were worth the cost, and that their tiny snacks would be enough to settle them until dinner. They adjusted their ties and played with their manes, and when I looked back at Neon suddenly he didn't seem so much like them either. With his tie splayed across his body like a pony who had fallen to sleep and his sleeves pulled up past his elbows, he hardly seemed to look like them at all. He was leaning back in his chair, his hooves folded across his belly. I could help but chuckle, and he smiled back at me.

“There you go,” he said. His voice wasn't as jovial as usual, but there was a warmth there. I don't know if that warmth was appearing more and more often, or if I was just getting better at spotting it, but either way it made me happy.

“So,” Neon said, interrupting my thoughts, “You said you were an engineer?”

“Huh?” I asked, blinking. “Oh, yeah. Well, I mean I'm training to be one. I'm studying light engineering at Cloudsdale University.”

“Light Engineering? I didn't know light needed to be engineered. I thought it just... you know, happened.”

“Oh no,” I said, chuckling. “Everypony thinks that, but it's actually much more complicated than that. Light on its own just happens, yeah, but we can use it in a lot of different ways. Like, every year we need to calculate how much light the crops will need to grow so we can plan the weather around it. We can also use the light, concentrating it with special arrays of lenses and crystals to make power. That usually gets used to power the weather factory, but it goes to other places too sometimes. Usually it's just reserve power for Cloudsdale. We don't have unicorns for magic, see, so we have to use technology for any of our bigger tasks. And then there's the different kinds of light – every kind has a different purpose, and we have to make them all from sunlight. There's normal sunlight, pale light, dark light... the kind of light that most ponies know about is rainbow light, though. We concentrate the light until it turns liquid, and them we have to break it apart into its component pieces. The process is really complicated and difficult, so we usually just use naturally occurring rainbows, but...” It occurred to me that I was grinning like an idiot, and I had been waving my hooves around. Neon was smiling at me, and he nodded.

“But?” he asked.

“But... well... the rainbows aren't always pure, see, so rainbows made from sunlight in the factory are usually much more vivid... sorry, I was probably rambling, wasn't I?”

“I don't mind,” Neon said, waving his hoof. “I actually had no idea there was that much to it. It's interesting.”

“Yeah?” I asked, looking down at my coffee.

“Well, yeah,” Neon said. “You must have gotten into it for a reason, right?” I chuckled a bit at that.

“Well, yeah,” I said. “I just thought it was neat. I mean, the way that it's so small, and almost nopony ever thinks about it, but it affects so much. It's literally everywhere, there's really no part of life that isn't affected by light in some way. It comes through on the job, you know? I deal with every different type of pony as a light engineer. It's... nice, I guess.” At the time I thought that part of that must have been a lie, shy as I was around other ponies. I couldn't really think how much of it really was, though. I just smiled back at Neon.

“Sounds like a pretty cool job,” he said. “I've never been much for science or math though, I'd probably never cut it.”

“No?” I asked. “What, uh, do you do, anyways?”

“Eh... it's sort of hard to describe,” Neon said. “I'm sort of like a... single-house musician?” I peered at him for a while and his brow furrowed in concentration, seeking the best way to describe his profession. “It's like a DJ,” he said, “except DJs mostly just have other ponies' music, right? They mix and remix it, but it's still other ponies' stuff. I don't do that. I make all my own music for the club – I even sing for it, do live shows and stuff. But I only work at one place, see? A couple of nights a week, and I get a nice fat paycheck. It's a good deal, I'm just not sure what to call it exactly...”

“A... musician?” I offered. To me I sounded dumb, but I think Neon thought I was being sarcastic. Either way he found it funny, throwing his head back and laughing again.

“Alright,” he said. “Fair enough.” He snickered some more, taking one last drink of his coffee. I had finished mine as well, and we both set our cups down.

“You know?” he said, “I think that's appropriate. Musician... no real title, just kind of a thing. I mean, that's what I always wanted to be – a musician. I didn't have an instrument I wanted to play, I didn't have a band I wanted to be in or be like... I just wanted music. I liked singing, and I went after that.” He shrugged, chuckling at some private joke.

“Well... you're good,” I offered. “At singing, I mean. I heard you this morning.” Neon blinked at me from behind his glasses.

“Huh?” he asked.

“This morning,” I repeated. “When you were making pancakes... you were singing in the kitchen.”

“Oh,” Neon said. He looked down, and for some reason I though he blushed faintly. “You heard that? Yeah, I guess you would have, huh? Yeah, that was just... I don't know, playing around. I sing when I'm alone, and I'm used to being on my own in the apartment... yeah, if I'm what woke you up, then I'm sorry.”

“No, you didn't,” I said. I was a bit confused why he seemed so shy all of a sudden. It felt like we had changed places. “I was already up when you started. And like I said... you're a good singer.”

“Oh, well... thanks,” he said, chuckling. “You a fan of the band?”

“I don't think I've ever heard the song before,” I said. “Who was it?”

“Fully Clothed Mares,” Neon said instantly. I blinked at him, and he blinked back. “Fully Clothed Mares?” he said again. I stared at him dumbly, and he laughed. “Seriously? You've never heard of them? Oh man, Sunny! I know they say university is important, but don't neglect your education over it buddy!”

“I... what?” I asked as Neon laughed. He waved a hoof, trying to stop himself.

“Okay, okay: Homework for you,” he said. “Listen to some Fully Clothed Mares. Seriously, I don't care who you have to kill to get a CD, just find one.”

“O... kay?” I said, leaning back from the table a bit. Neon stifled another laugh and nodded sharply.

“Good stallion,” he said. He was grinning like some mad idiot, but I could help but smile with him. “Ready to go?” he asked. I nodded.

“You bet,” I said. “I hope this wasn’t the surprise you had for me.”

“This?” he asked. “Psssh, naw. It's way better than some snooty coffee shop. It's deep into the city, so it'll take us a while to walk there yet.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said. We got up and, after Neon had paid for our drinks, we headed back out into the street.

We had spent a fair amount of time in the little shop, and the afternoon had moved on without us. I guessed that it was probably around 3 or 4 o'clock when we left. Strangely though, the air hadn’t gotten any warmer. If anything, the chill in the air had come in in force. Dark clouds were creeping in over the horizon as well, and I guess Canterlot would see another snowfall tonight. I didn't have much of a chance to think about it before Neon and I headed off again.

The city was built onto a mountain, and it was reflected on the streets as we walked. The streets curved in wide spirals, different levels connected by alleyways of stairs. Neon took me through a few, bounding up the wide steps and skipping across the broad landings that were the alleys themselves. Every stray pipe and crooked step seemed to excite him, as if it were his first time seeing all this, and not mine. I couldn't help but get caught up in his exuberance. Of course, even if he hadn't been there, I think I would have been excited. It was like I was experiencing the world in a whole new way. With the dense fog finally cleared out of my mind, I could finally see what was right in front of me. I saw the light glinting off the snow and the shadows playing in tiny arcs across the old cobblestone. I could see cracks and wearing where weeds slipped through the stones in the summer, and the marring on the buildings. We had left the rich neighborhood behind then, the overpriced shops and sprawling houses replaced by family-run corner stores and hole-in-the-wall restaurants. Children played in the streets, watched over by their parents and older siblings as they ran and laughed. I wondered if there had been places in Cloudsdale like that, and I had just missed them. The landscape was so different, I imagined that the ponies were different too.

We continued our journey, spiraling ever upwards through the beautiful city. I could see the edge of the city in the distance now, a spattering of buildings across the foothills. Beyond that was untended farmland and open country. Ahead of us the buildings grew tall and gorgeous. Neon told me that this was Old Canterlot, the world that the city had once been. It felt like we were stepping back through time. The architecture was ancient and artful, buildings made of hardy stone. I doubted many of them had ever been touched since they had been built, but there they stood anyways. They were almost monuments in and of themselves. “See us,” they seemed to say. “Look at what we are, and what we have done. We shall not be moved, not for you and not for time. We will last.” It took my breath away.

I don't know what it was about those buildings that struck me so much, but they're with me even now. I can see them so clearly in my mind, standing tall and proud. I don't know what they were built for – Neon said almost nopony does, except for the princesses. Some of them had been turned into company buildings, and others had been furnished as apartments or hotels.

“This one is my favourite,” Neon said, directing me to a particularly old building: and enormous and Gothic mansion. Tall spires rose up from its corners, stretching to the heavens like impudently pointed fingers that challenged the gods themselves to tear it down. Mighty arches held it up, each one its own Atlas standing strong against the blows heaven returned. The paint had long since faded, leaving only bare white, sanded clean by wind and rain.

“It's a hotel,” Neon continued, “I stayed here when I first moved to Canterlot. When I was staying there, I got to talking with this old stallion who worked there. He told about the history. This is the house that the ponies who built Canterlot lived in. Apartments for the builders, you know? Legend has it that the chief of the house offended a spirit who lived in the mountain, by building the house in one of her gardens. They say that the spirit cursed the house, and swore to bring it down around his ears. Well, he wasn't a stupid stallion, but he wasn't going to be scared away so easily. This house is the very first thing they built here, and they built it well. Halfway through building the palace there was a huge earthquake. The palace came down, but had to be completely rebuilt. This place stayed up, though.

“After they finished building the city this place got sold to some rich family, and they turned it into a mansion. Lightning struck the house five times that year, but there was almost no damage every time. Fifty years later a tornado blew through Canterlot, ripped half the town to shreds. This place stayed up. Another hundred years later a rock slide buried this place – killed everypony inside. When they dug it out, though, the building was still fine. After that they turned it into a hotel.

“That mountain spirit threw everything she had at it, and it stayed up. They say that after the chief died he became part of the building, fighting against the spirit forever to keep the house standing.” Neon paused, chuckling and shaking his head. “To hear that old pony talk you'd think this place would stand through hell itself rising up. But it's been here for years, taking every piece of abuse thrown at it. It never forgot what it was meant to do, I think. They built it swearing it would stand strong, and it did it. It's never gonna forget that.”

Neon hadn't been lying when he said it would be a long walk. We had been in the city for a few hours now, and the sun was already beginning to set behind the old house. It cast a silhouette, deep blue against the orange light and immeasurably powerful. I looked at Neon, who was still staring admiringly at the building. There was a gleam in his eyes, something like respect. I could just make them out behind his sunglasses, but it was more than enough.

“Never gonna forget that...” I said lingering over the syllables. Neon looked at me and smiled, the sly grin of a pony who knows something that's been left unsaid.

“Of course, I didn't drag you all the way into the city just to see some old house,” he said. “We're almost there, though.” We set off again, and this time I followed a bit closer to him.

Our path took us ever higher, and I began to wonder if we would pass through the clouds. Though we never did, that didn't make the mountain any less massive. The spiraling streets were tighter now, but even still we seemed to pass through so many different places. The buildings grew ever more opulent, until strangely they disappeared completely.

We must have been close to the peak of the mountain. The only thing I could see above us was the palace, shining in the fading light. We were in a wide open square, speckled with small groups of ponies. It was probably much busier during the day, but the fading light brought with it a biting chill, more than enough to scare most ponies into their homes. Those few who were left were either on their way there now, or completely without. Neon dashed ahead of me, running for a railing on the edge of the square.

“This is what I wanted to show you,” Neon said as I trotted up to him. “There!” He threw his forelegs out, gesturing to the scene before us.

The entire city stretched out before us, from the rolling foothills to the mighty peak on which we stood. The last rays of light faded as the sun slipped beyond the horizon, but there was no shortage of illumination. Every lamp in the city was alight, like a million tiny stars in an inverted sky. They curved and arched through the streets, forming veins on a mighty beast and showing us its beating heart. I could see ponies trotting through the streets closer to us, on their way home after a long day.

The light glinted off the snow and the white of the buildings, causing them to almost glow. As we stood there, basking in the glory of Canterlot, the moon slowly rose and illuminated the scene further. It was almost exactly like it had been the night before, but a thousand times more beautiful.

“I bet you probably see views like this all the time,” Neon said, “but to a unicorn like me... it's magical. I've thought about leaving Canterlot a few times, but every time I do I come up here, and the thought just leaves me.” He smiled.

“See, my family moved around all the time when I was little. City to city, even moving to a new country once. When I got older, I kinda caught the bug. I spent a few years moving around, never really finding somewhere to settle... Canterlot is the first city that's ever really felt like home to me. Everywhere else... it just felt like I was there for the duration, you know?”

“Yeah,” I said without even thinking about it. “Yeah, I know.”

“You're lucky, you know Sunny?” Neon said. “You lived in Cloudsdale your whole life... you know where your home is. You never had to look for it... you can leave any time you want, and you'll always know where home is. You don't have to be worried about your roots not being there when you get back.” His smile was a nostalgic one, the smile of a stallion reminiscing. Mine, though, was fake.

Fear had struck me again. I had been trying not to think of it, but standing there on the cliff I had no choice but to face it. This was what Neon had wanted to show me. After this, I would need to go back home.

Back to my roots. Back to Cloudsdale, where everything was the same. Back to university, where my parents would expect to know about every little grade and quiz, and where they would be disappointed in me every time I did something wrong. Back to my old life, where I couldn't do anything stupid or make any mistakes. I looked at Neon, and for the first time I realized just how handsome he was.

He had just given his speech about how lucky I was, but all I could do was envy him. He did what he wanted. He knew what he wanted, too. There wasn't anypony behind the scenes with him. If he wanted to get up and leave, he could. He had no roots. Nothing holding him back. My mouth started to move without me realizing it again.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. Neon blinked at me, and I hurriedly concocted an excuse. “You bought that coffee for me, not to mention gave me a place to stay,” I said. “I feel bad about putting upon you like that, and then just disappearing... I'll buy you dinner. It's only fair, right?” Neon smiled, and shrugged.

“You don't owe me anything Sunny,” he said. I shook my head, desperately trying to make him listen. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt panicked. Anything to stay here for just another few minutes, anything to avoid going home.

“I insist,” I said. “I'm not taking no for an answer.” Neon laughed.

“Wow, listen to you,” he said. “Alright, I'm kinda hungry. I know a pretty good place for a bite to eat.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, but the fear didn't completely leave me. It burned in my chest and on my shoulders, aching like a weight on my back. The weight seemed like it was pulling me down, forcing me to hold my head low as Neon led me to the restaurant. I don’t remember what the name of the restaurant was, or anything really. The fog was starting to creep back into my mind, though I didn’t realize it. It was just slipping in around the corners, playing on my fears and doubts, just like it always did. The next thing I remember we were already in the restaurant. My heart pounded even as we ordered our food, threatening to burst out of my chest as we ate. It pulverized the food in my belly as we left, and leaped into my throat when I saw the lights.

We had wandered into another square near the peak of Canterlot, and there seemed to be some sort of festival or something of the sort. There were dozens of stalls set up in the square, hundreds of ponies packed into the area. Behind the murmur of their voices was the sound of music, a live band. I saw it, my heart leaped... and then I went numb.

The fog was back, and I didn't even realize it. I took Neon by the foreleg, dragging him into the crowd. I don't know if he objected. I don't know if he thought it was a good idea. I remember him laughing in the crowd, but I don't remember the noise. Just the image. I remember us laughing and singing and dancing, playing games and buying the cheap vendor food. I remember a pair of foals who came and wanted to play with us, and I remember spending time with them. I remember running into a friend of Neon's, but I don't remember his name.

I remember the flurry of noise, muffled through ringing ears. I remember the dizzying blur of lights from coloured lanterns, all noises and sounds. I remember ponies everywhere, and I remember being desperately alone.

I was so terrified. I didn't realize it – I didn't want to realize it. I focused on the moment with an obsessive fervor, fighting down any thoughts I had of what came next. It's almost ironic: I spent so long being unable to focus on the now for what came next, and I escaped what came next by focusing on the now. Try as I might though, I couldn't fight the fear. It was a sickening feeling, like there was a mighty hand around my belly, trying to squeeze out my dinner. My entire body ached with a phantom pain, so I replaced it with the burning of dancing.

I don't know how long we were there, but even that couldn't last forever. We trailed away from the strange party, wandering once more through the streets. Still we laughed and sang, fighting away my fear as best we could. I don't know if Neon knew what was wrong with me. I think he did, but I don't know. He took me away from the streets we had walked before, showing me through strange side routes and paths. We were walking through a park when the fog started to fade again.

It was very much like the one we had first met in. There was a winding path, hidden deep in the snow, and the landscape was dotted with trees and tiny ponds. It was gorgeous, but I didn't care. I was still desperately afraid of leaving, trying to find some way to drag it out longer. I gathered a hoofful of snow, tossing it at Neon. It's so strange... I remember him smiling one moment, and then screaming the next.

“Enough!” he shouted, redirecting the snowball with his magic, leaving it to explode harmlessly, if violently, against a tree. I could have sworn mere moments ago there was a smile on his face, but all there was was a look of fury. Even through his sunglasses I could see him glaring. The sight of it struck me like a hot coal. It lifted the fog instantly, and my mind became clear.

“What the hell, Sunny?” he shouted again. “Ever since we had dinner you've been... been... man, I don't even know! You've been acting like an idiot!”

“Wha... what?” I asked. Neon seemed to ignore me, continuing his rant.

“I mean, I can see the party! You know, I don't know if you've got those things in Cloudsdale, so maybe you wanted to see it! But you can have, you know, asked me before dragging me into all that! Asked me if I wanted to hang around a bunch of hobos!? I mean, I don't mind them, but dammit man, what the hell?”

“I... I'm sorry, I...”

“Then listen to me, maybe!” Neon shouted. “I told you, I'm exhausted! I just want to go home! Look, if you like hanging out we can do it again sometime! So why the hell are you trying to drag this out!?” He seethed for a moment longer, and I sat down in the snow. I hadn't even begun to realize what I had been doing. I must have been forcing myself to believe the he was enjoying it, just like I had forced myself to believe that I was enjoying it. I cradled my head in my hooves.

“Sunny...” Neon said, calmer now. “Look. I only met you last night. That's not enough time to get to know somepony. But even I can see this isn't like you. What's wrong?”

I wanted to keep up the lie. If the fear was bad when the fog was there, with my head clear it was a thousand times worse. I knew exactly what was wrong, and exactly what I had been doing. The fear ate away at me from the inside, like I was made of ice. It burnt me at the same time, though. I was so afraid it was painful. I shuddered, trying to force myself to keep the lie up. I looked into Neon's face... and I couldn't. Even behind the glasses I could see him, nothing but pure and real concern in his eyes.

“I...” I whispered, barely even breathing. Going home wasn't the only thing I was afraid of. Canterlot wasn't the only thing I didn't want to leave. “I can't...”

“Can't what?” Neon asked. He sat down in front of me, putting a gentle hoof on my shoulder. He was warm, like the light of dawn. “Sunny, what's the matter?”

“I just...” My mind raced, going a million miles a minute, fighting against itself in so many ways I couldn't even count them all. My voice came unbeckoned. “How can I tell some pony I just met?” I asked. “You... you, of all ponies, you won't understand...”

“Maybe I can,” Neon said, his voice quiet and calm. If it weren’t for the silence of the night I might not have even heard it. “And even if I can't, won't it help to say it? There's nopony better than somepony you just met to listen. I won't be able to judge you if you don't want me to. You can fly back to Cloudsdale, and never see me again.”

The pain was unbearable. It tore through me like a blade, rending my soul. Every inch of me burned, and I wanted so desperately to cry. I couldn't, though. I couldn't do anything.

“But I don't want to!” I screamed. “I don't want to go back to Cloudsdale, and never see you again, I don't want to go back to Cloudsdale at all!” I got to my hooves, backing away from him. “You couldn't understand,” I said again, “you have no idea. You can go wherever you want, do whatever you want. There's nothing holding you back, nopony holding the reigns for you! If I got to Cloudsdale, I'll never come back. I'll never go anywhere again. Everything I've done here... everything I've done with you, it'll be just another mistake in my parents' eyes. They'll tell me about how it was all wrong, about how I was stupid! They'll tell me that I was just being hormonal, and that all you wanted from me was sex! They'll tell me I was stupid and naïve, and that I need to listen to them! They'll make me study even more, and move back home with them! I'll never be able to leave again, never be able to meet a stallion who's as kind and caring and beautiful as you! I'll always live in that same boring house, in that same boring district of that same stupid fucking city!” I pounded my hooves against the ground, screaming. I wasn't even talking to Neon anymore. I rose my head, screaming at the heavens.

“I'll have to listen to my arrogant fucking dad every day, telling me how I should have gone into construction! I'll have to listen to my stupid fucking mom trying to introduce me to nice mares because she thinks I'm going through some fucking phase! I'll have to go on shitty fucking dates with those vapid fucking bitches, and listen to them talk about me behind my back! It'll all be the fucking same! Every fucking day and night, and it'll never change! I'll never be able to do what I want to do, not ever!

“I hate Cloudsdale! I fucking hate it! I just... I just want to be able to do what I want to do! I want to do something stupid, I want to make a mistake. I want to walk down the wrong road. I want to take a wrong turn. I want break every stupid fucking rule on my parents' stupid fucking list... I want to fucking LIVE...”

I dropped to my knees, panting. My heart pounded in my chest, and there were tears right behind my eyes. They fought to get out, but I held them back. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and looked up at Neon. The moonlight beamed off his sunglasses, hiding his eyes from me even as he leaned down slowly. I felt his nose rub across my forehead, nuzzling my face. It worked its way down, and he rubbed his cheek against mine. I could feel the burning flush of his face, the soft bristle of his fur against mine. He wrapped his hooves around me, holding me close, and sang.

“The rumble strip clack
And the rattling frame
Beat out a pulse on his head
The engine hums, a humble tune
A melody of rubber and lead
Under lamp light glow
And paradise stars
An infinity of dancing white light
He sees that his debt
Is to experience only
And not to those who'd plan out his life”

His voice was better than ever. It was art in itself. Even after it had gone the silence rang with his song, turning the night as beautiful as he could imagine. He leaned away from me, and I gazed into his face. This close, I could see through his glasses. I knew what he was feeling, and there was no naivete there. I leaned in again, kissing him. He kissed back, and I could feel the passion on his lips. It ran between us like electricity. My heart pounded again, but it wasn't fear. The fire returned to my body, but it wasn't painful.

We left the park. Neither of us wanted to walk, so we took a bus. I don't remember what it was like. I don't remember any of trip back to Neon's apartment, but not for the same reason as our time at the party. All I could think about was Neon. Before I knew it we were back at his building. We were in his apartment, in his bedroom, in his bed. My scarf was gone, discarded somewhere in the hallway. His tie hung on the doorknob behind us, and his shirt draped open.

I remember what happened next. Gods, how I remember it. I remember the heat of his body against me, like a furnace. I could feel his heart beating through his chest, its rhythm matching mine beat for beat. I remember sinking into his soft bed and pillows as he laid me down, swallowing us both whole. I remember the taste of his tongue, like the sweetest candy. I remember how it felt when he kissed me, all over my body. I remember when his horn lit up, enveloping me in the soft grip of magic. Every hair on my body bristled, and I could feel him in ways that I never knew existed.

I remember the sheer tornado of passion, the all-consuming heat, the burning muscles, and the stink of sweat. I remember our gasps of passion and joy, all moans and screams in the quiet of the night. Time fell away when he pressed into me, and I didn't care. Everything I needed was there with me, in that bed. Even the bed fell away, and we existed together in the nothing. Two minds, two being of pure pleasure, wrapping around each other and becoming as one. There was white heat, a flash of light that could blind even angels, and ecstasy. There was me and him, alone, in his bed.

When it was over, he sang again.

“Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk to you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted, in my brain, still remains,
within the sound of silence...”

***

His voice lingered even through the night, and we basked in it as we slept. I awoke the next morning with my face on his chest, listening to his heart beat softly. I knew he was awake, but I didn't say anything. We lay together in silence for a while, before Neon finally spoke.

“You don't need to go, you know,” he whispered. “Nopony's going to force you. You can stay... with me. If you like.” I sighed, and looked up at him. He had taken his glasses off, and I could see his eyes. Brilliant emerald green, and unabashedly earnest.

“Yes I do,” I said. “I have responsibilities in Cloudsdale... and I have my friends, and my parents. They'll all be worried.”

“You could send a letter,” Neon suggested. I chuckled, and kissed him.

“No,” I said. “I'm angry at my parents... but I love them. They were only doing what they thought was best. If I'm going to say it, it needs to be to their face.” I sighed again. “I need to go back, Neon. Cloudsdale is my home.” The blue stallion nodded, but he looked sad all the same.

“Don't worry,” I told him. “I'm not going back because I'm being forced to. I'm going back because it's what I want. It'll be different this time. Nopony is going to control me.”

“You came up with all that in your sleep, huh?” Neon asked. He smiled like an awkward teenager, but it was warm and kind.

“Mmm, not really,” I said. “In the past couple days... since meeting you.” I slid the covers down, revealing the mark on my haunch: A bright, golden sunrise. “I want to bring light. That's my purpose, and nopony is going to make me forget it. Never again.” I sat up in the bed, smiling at him. He smiled back sadly, and leaned in to kiss me.

He made me pancakes, again. They were even better this time than they were the morning before. We slathered them with peanut butter, and drank deeply from tall glasses of milk. The desire to drag it out was gone, then. We let it be what it was, and we were happy with it. When we were finished I found my scarf again, and we headed outside. Neon pawed at the snow, trying to find the words. Finally, he looked up at me.

“How long do you have left of university?” he asked. I smiled.

“About a year,” I said.

“There any work for a light engineer in Canterlot?”

“If I'm good enough. I'll have to study hard... especially on theory and calculations. I could be a crop assessor... I could work with the princess. You know... research.” He looked at me, his question hanging in the air.

“My parents always pushed me to study hard,” I said. “I might have missed out on a bit of partying... but having the highest grades in my class has its benefits.” I kissed Neon, smiling as my lips met his.

“Think you can wait a year?” I asked.

“I can wait a year,” he answered without thinking. “Think you can handle letters for a while?”

“I can handle that,” I said. I pried my lips away from his, and took to the skies. Higher and higher I circled, staring down at him until he was nothing more than a speck on the ground. It took me a moment to get my bearings, but as soon as I did I flew without a hint of hesitation. The sun broke the horizon as I traveled, lighting up the world. In the distance I could see a single glimmering spot of white in the clear sky.

Cloudsdale was waiting for me.

Chapter 1

I think, even after all this time, I still don't really understand what happened.

I was feeling strange that night. I don't know. It was like every little thing was the most important thing in the world. I couldn't focus on anything, because everything jumped right to the front of my mind. My roommates were talking about... something. I think it was about mares. Yeah. Mares. They were talking about all the marefriends they'd had, or all the random mares they'd picked up at bars. Like it was some badge of honour, getting drunk and going home with some filly. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out. I don't think they even noticed me leaving, really. They didn't say anything if they did. Maybe they just didn't care.

The air was cold outside my apartment. It was always cold in Cloudsdale because it was so high up, but this was different. It was a winter cold, the sort that sends chills right down to your core. My breath was a thick fog in front of my face, and I almost had trouble telling it apart from the clouds that paved the streets in the dark.

There was no light but the stars, no sound but the wind. I trotted across the cloud, trying to get as far away from my apartment as I could manage. It felt like I was running away from something, but I didn't really know what. Maybe I was running away from my roommates. I guess that might have been it. Maybe it was more than that, though. Maybe I was just getting tired of spending all my time in that apartment. Maybe I was getting tired of the apartment itself. Maybe I was getting tired of living there. I don't know; I was just getting tired.

I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going. I was probably heading south. When I was little, my parents used to call me Birdy, because that’s always were I would go. No matter where we were, I always managed to find south when I wanted to go for a walk. Wherever I had wanted to go, I wound up at a corner store that I liked.

They sold these cheap donuts there. They were awful, but at the same time they tasted better than anything I’d ever eaten. It was like they dusted them with something addictive to keep you coming back even when you knew how horrible they tasted. I bought two of them and a cup of coffee then sat outside the store.

It was around nine or ten o'clock, I think. The night was only just beginning, really. It was the middle of winter, so it had been dark out for hours, but all the rest of Cloudsdale was only just beginning to go to bed. I was alone, but it was a fresh sort of alone. It was the kind of alone you are when someone leaves the room, not the kind when you wake up with no one else around.

The corner store was close to the edge of Cloudsdale. Without any ponies around, I could actually see over the edge. Equestria was sprawling out beneath the clouds, like a little model playset. I think that was the first time I ever really thought about leaving.

I was born and raised in Cloudsdale. I'd never left there, growing up, not even for a vacation or anything. All my family lived there. I think most of them were probably just like me. They'd all lived in Cloudsdale their whole lives, and they'd never really thought of going anywhere else. I know that I'd never thought about it until that night. I'm not sure why I did. I guess because I was running away, still.

My coffee was hot. Like, really hot. I could feel the cold biting at everything, but the coffee burnt my hooves through the cup. It scalded my tongue when I sipped it. I don't know why I remember that, but I do. You remember funny things, I guess. Like, I remember my nose running a little bit. I put down my coffee and walked to the edge of Cloudsdale, looking down. I could feel myself leaning further forward, tilting over the edge. I wasn't doing it on purpose, I don't think, but I wasn't stopping myself either. I was just doing it. I fell over the edge, rushing down through the cold air.

I could feel the wind rustling through my mane, hear it whipping in my ears. It tugged at the scarf around my neck, stinging in my eyes. I opened my wings slowly, slicing through the air and catching a current. I slowed down almost instantly, my stomach lurching at the sudden change in speed. It felt good. I sailed through the air, just gliding. I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going. South again, I guess. Headed for warmer climates. It probably didn't matter, as long as I was away from Cloudsdale.

I remember what my roommates were talking about now. They were asking me about my marefriends. They wanted to know if I'd ever had any. I hadn't. They thought that was pretty funny, I guess. One of them said he knew a mare that I should talk to, but I wasn't really interested. I was quiet, for a while. They didn't really notice, I think. I was always a bit quiet when they would talk about mares. I never really had anything to say.

I was flying with my eyes closed, not paying any attention to where I was going. I beat my wings enough to stay in the air, but I was mostly just gliding. I'm almost surprised I didn't run in to anything. There wasn't anything to run into, I guess, but I didn't even fly through any clouds. Not at first, at least.

I think I didn't open my eyes until I felt the first snowflake on my wing. I looked over at it, not really sure what to think. The sky around Cloudsdale had been mostly clear when I left. I guess I was just wondering where the weather had come from. I opened my eyes wider, and started looking around. Cloudsdale was long gone by then. In fact, there weren't any clouds around, except for the snowstorm above me. I didn't recognize anything around me, which I guess made sense. I wasn't afraid, though; I think I was sort of happy. I liked Cloudsdale, I guess, but I just didn't want to be there anymore. I was happy to be wherever I was, then.

There was a mountain not far away from me, to the east. I could see light coming from the other side of it, so I decided to fly towards them. Well, not really fly. I just sort of tilted, gliding down to the source of the lights.

It was a city. It was amazing. I'd never been to a city on the ground, so I guess anything would have been amazing to me, but even now I think it was beautiful. The lights were streetlamps, lining every little road. The buildings looked like they were made out of marble or alabaster, and they seemed to glow in the light. I swear, it was probably as bright as day in the city. I remember flying over it for a little while, just taking in the sight of it. It was fantastic. I was happy, I guess. It wasn't Cloudsdale.

I still don't really know why that made me so happy. It's still so hard to understand. I don't ever do this, you know? Just sit down and think about things. Talk about things. I just... let them happen. Let them come to me. I don't know, maybe that's why it was so bad. I think sometimes that maybe if I had stopped to do this once in a while in Cloudsdale, it wouldn't have been so bad. Maybe I would have been able to understand what was happening. I guess at least I might have been able to at least understand myself. Maybe if I had, somepony else could have. But I'm glad that I didn't. I'm glad I had to run away. I was happy. I am happy.

I think I landed in some kind of square. There was a little fountain in the middle of it, but there wasn't any water in the fountain. There was just a bit of snow piled up around the bottom.

The snow was only just starting to fall. I guess that's why I didn't notice it at first. Otherwise I think I probably wouldn't have left the square. But I did. I just went walking, like I had in Cloudsdale. I don't think I was going south this time, though. I was going down, through the twisting streets around the mountain. I tried to take in every little detail, to get to know the city. It just felt like the most important thing I had ever done. The streetlamps cast a sort of yellow light over everything, reflecting off buildings and just making the whole city glow. Even the sky didn't seem as dark as it did in Cloudsdale. It was this almost sort of purple-blue, and the stars little specs of white. It looked more like a painting than a real sky. It was like somepony had put a giant dome over top of us, with a sky painted on it so we wouldn't realize that we were all trapped in there. I think I wondered what would happen if I tried to leave. Would I bounce off the sky? Was I stuck here? I had been stuck in Cloudsdale, I guess, but I'd left there too. Could I leave here like I left Cloudsdale, if I wanted?

My mind drifted away from that as I walked. I thought about my roommates a bit more. I wondered if they knew that I was gone. I guess they probably did, but I wondered if they cared, though. We got along well enough, but it was always just something we had to do. We got put together when we started university. We didn't pick each other. It just happened. Still, I guess they were nice enough stallions, I just didn't have much in common with them. We never really talked all that much. I guess I didn't ever really talk to anyone, really.

The street I was walking down started to widen out. The buildings were falling away, and I walked into a wide opening. The cobbled streets stopped suddenly, as if there had been some invisible wall keeping the street from going any further. It didn’t even seem done. Grass peeked up between the last row of stones, as if the two sides were fighting. I could hardly see it, though. The snow was coming down harder, and had almost coated the ground. It was light and fluffy, and the gentle breeze shifted it around and piling it up in snowdrifts along the buildings.

The clearing of buildings must have been some sort of park. I could just make out a path leading across the field, and further down it looked like there was a small forest. I stepped slowly onto the path. The snow crunched and squeaked underneath my hooves quietly, but the noise was still clear in the night. I took a few more steps in, smiling quietly at the crunching sound. I think I actually cantered a bit. I think I was trying to make it louder. I liked it. I'd never walked on solid ground before. Clouds never made a sound when I stepped on them. I remember I'd liked the sound of the cobblestones, too. The soft little clopping of my hooves. My wings twitched happily as I walked down the path. I started to look around, taking in the scenery. There were still a few lampposts around, keeping the park well-lit even in the dark of night. The moon was high and full in the sky, so even without the lampposts I probably would have been able to see just fine.

The snow on the ground and in the air seemed to sparkle in the light. It was probably the most beautiful thing I had seen, at least then. It never snowed in Cloudsdale. It never did anything at all. We were above the weather, so it was always sunny skies. Always the same, every day. I liked the snow. I still like the snow. It's amazing. These little tiny pieces of ice, falling from the sky. Not a single one of them was ever the same, even though they were so small. I'd seen them in the weather factory, but I'd never seen them actually falling before that night.

The path passed by a little pond with a bench. The pond was frozen over, and the snow was starting to drift on top of the ice. The wind shook the soft powder around, this thin little layer of dust dancing around, like a ballet or something. I cleared some snow off the bench and sat down, just watching it.

It was sort of strange. I still didn't really understand what I was doing, I don't think, but I was glad that I'd done it. I was glad to be in the city, away from Cloudsdale. I guess I've probably said that a few times, but... well, you just can't really understand what it was like unless you'd been there. It was completely new for me. I'd never seen the ground, or trees, or snow. Not close up like that. I was in a whole new world, and... I guess I was in love with it. I was just really, really happy. I guess it was a new feeling for me, then. Sometimes it’s just hard to really understand something until you're right there. I was right there, and I was starting to understand. I couldn't really understand though, for a while at least. Not until he arrived.

“Some night, huh?”

I heard him before I saw him. I nearly jumped out of my feathers when he called out to me. I had been so caught up in watching the snow I hadn't heard him coming. I hadn't expected anypony to be out this late, really. I sort of half thought I was crazy for even being out that late. This stallion sounded like he was always out this late, though, like he had seen his fair share of nights. His voice was soft, and happy. In the silence of the night it seemed clear, and crisp. It sounded almost clean, sort of. I looked over my shoulder warily at him.

He was a sky blue unicorn with a thick black mane. It was shaggy and wild, almost standing up from how tangled it was. He wore a double-breasted coat, the same colour as his mane, with wide cuffs and shiny buttons. A thick white scarf peeked through the top of the coat, wrapping tightly around his neck. He smiled at me as if we were old friends, like he had been expecting me there. Strangest of all, his eyes were obscured by heavy, dark sunglasses.

“...Huh?” I asked dumbly. I was still trying to take it all in, I suppose. I'd seen unicorns before, but he still seemed so alien, standing in the snow.

“I said, some night, huh?” he repeated, trotting closer. “It's beautiful out tonight. First snowfall of the season.” He tilted his head, and his smile widened a bit. “You waiting for somepony?”

“I...” I said, “uh, no. No, I'm not waiting for anypony.”

“Cool,” he said. “Want some company?” I blinked at him, but brushed the rest of the snow off the bench with my wing. He grinned at me and sat down. “Thanks, buddy,” he said. He leaned back on the bench and opened his mouth. A stream of mist blew out, spreading out in strange tendrils of smoke and disappearing amongst the snow. He breathed in again, sighing happily.

“It's great, isn't it?” he asked. I think I only vaguely understood what he was talking about. I only vaguely understood anything, really.

“Yeah...” I said quietly.

“You like winter?” he asked. I looked at the snow on the ground, and shrugged vaguely.

“I guess?”

“You guess?”

“I... don't really know. This is different from winter where I'm from, I guess.” The unicorn sat up straighter.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Where're you from?”

“Cloudsdale,” I answered slowly. I didn't really like thinking about it again. I knew, deep down, that I'd have to go back there soon enough. The unicorn shook me out of it, though.

“Yeah?” he asked excitedly. “I've always wanted to go to Cloudsdale! What's it like?”

“It's... I don't know, it's alright,” I said. “I lived there my whole life... so I guess I'm just used to it or something.” He paused for a second. I think he might have realized something was wrong, but I don't know. I learned later how perceptive he could be. Maybe that's just how he is. How he was.

“So,” he asked, the cheer returning to his voice, “what brings you to fair Canterlot then, huh?” I blinked.

“Is that were I am?” I asked. I couldn't really see his expression behind the glasses, but I'm sure he must have thought I was crazy. Or stupid. Or something like that.

“You didn't know?” he asked me.

“I... guess not,” I said. “I wasn't really thinking about where I was going. I just went.” The unicorn leaned back again, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Huh,” he said. He hummed to himself awkwardly, but shrugged, and grinned at me. His teeth were as white as the snow, and his smile had a mischievous, knowing quality. “Well,” he said, “when you gotta get away, right? I know the feeling.”

“You do?” I asked. He nodded.

“Oh yeah. Everpony needs to get away sometimes, right? I mean they don't all skip the city, but they don't all wander out into a park at midnight, either.” He nudged me playfully. Strangely, I think it actually made me feel better. “So how're you liking it?”

“Canterlot?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said, shrugging. “Canterlot. Not Cloudsdale. Being away. It's what you needed, right? It doing it for you?” I blinked, and turned away from him. I looked around the park for a little while. I don't remember for how long, really, but it felt like a while. I looked at the trees, and the pond, and the falling snow.

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I like it. It's doing it for me.”

“That's good,” he said, smiling. He looked around for a while, too. He leaned back on the bench, turning his face to the sky. “I don't care about Canterlot most of the year,” he said. “I mean yeah, it's an alright city. Everything runs on time, you get everything you need right around the corner, and the view's great... but I mean, it's just a city, right? You can get all that anywhere. But man, in the winter... It's amazing. I love it. It's just so... different in the winter. Everything is fresh, everything is new. It's great.” He sighed happily, staring up at the sky. I looked up too, slowly. The snowflakes fell all around me, rushing into my vision and dancing around. It was so bizarre, seeing it coming down at me.

“Cloudsdale is never anything like this,” I said. I was doing it again. I didn't mean to talk, but I did. The words just came to me, and I didn't stop them. “It's the same, all year round. It gets colder, or warmer, but it never really changes. It doesn't snow. It doesn't even rain. It's sunny skies, all day every day. Other ponies get the weather, not us. It's...” I didn't know what it was. I knew what I felt, but I couldn't put it to words. There were too many feelings clouding around each other. “It's just Cloudsdale. I like it here. I've never seen anything like this place. It's different. I'm glad I came.”

“Yeah?” the unicorn asked. I smiled at him.

“Yeah,” I said. He smiled back, nestling into the bench.

“I think I might feel the same sometimes,” he said. “Except in the opposite direction, you know? Like, I've traveled around. Every city on the ground is the same. They're just cities. I've never been to a city in the sky, though. I always thought that it must be so cool, up there. I used to think it must be like winter all the time, but I guess not.” He smiled. “Are you gonna go back?” I sighed.

“I guess,” I said. “I guess I sort of have to, don't I? I've got... friends. Family. They’d all miss me.” I sighed again, and the unicorn sat up.

“You gonna go back tonight?”

“Probably, I guess... I mean, they'll all be wondering... why?”

“I dunno,” the unicorn said, shrugging. “I mean, it's like one in the morning, right? Do you really wanna fly back in the middle of the night?” I thought about it for a little while. I probably could have flown back. It wouldn't have been that bad. I didn't want to, though. It would be nice to stay in Canterlot, at least for the night. I sort of wondered what it would look like in the morning. I bet that it would be beautiful.

“Maybe... no, maybe not,” I said. “I guess I don't. It's not like I can stay here, though. Nowhere to sleep.” The unicorn bobbed his head back and forth.

“Well...” he said quietly. “I used to have a roommate, see... but he moved out. So I've got this spare bedroom, if you need a place to crash.”

I don't really know how long I was staring at him. It was probably for a good long while, though. I mean, it was such a weird thing to say, to offer a complete stranger a bed.

“You don't even know me,” I said. “I don't even know you.”

“Well,” he said, “I mean it would only be for tonight, right? And the bedrooms both have heavy locks, so it's not like we have to worry about each other. And I mean I'm not going to do anything to you anyways, or I'd have done it, right? Middle of the park, alone at night?” He smiled at me, but I just stared back a little awkwardly. His smile faded a bit, and I think he only realized what he had said just then. “Oh man!” He said, waving his hooves, “I’m sorry, that didn’t sound at all like I meant it to! I... okay, let’s try this differently.” He held out his hoof. “Neon Lights.” I stared at his hoof for a while, finally taking it gently. It was warm against mine. Not hot like the coffee, but a good warm.

“Sunburst,” I said. He smiled broadly.

“There, see?” he said. “Now we know each other. “You seem like a nice enough colt, you know? I wouldn't mind giving you a place to stay if you need it, and you shouldn't have to fly home in the middle of the night if you don't need to. But hey, it's your call.”

I thought about it for a little while. Or at least, I think I did. I thought about something for a while, at least. Maybe it was about staying with Neon Lights. Maybe it was about going back to Cloudsdale. Maybe it was about when I would go back. If I ever would. I probably thought about a lot of things, but I'm pretty sure there was one thing I didn't need to think about.

“Alright,” I said. “I'll stay the night... if it isn't a big hassle.”

“Hey, great,” Neon said. “My place isn't too far away. We should probably go hit the sack – I guess you might wanna get home early tomorrow, or something.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I guess.” Neon smiled, and stood up. I got up after him, following him as he trotted through the snow.

“Hey, nice name by the way,” he said over his shoulder.

“What?”

“Sunburst. It's a nice name. I think it suits you.”

“Yeah?” I asked. I didn't get told that often. It felt sort of nice. Neon smiled back at me.

“Yeah,” he said. “You seem like you could be a sunny kinda guy, you know?” He grinned. “Maybe you'll be sunnier in the morning. Hey, are you gonna go home as soon as you get up?”

“I... don't have to,” I said. I didn't want to, at least. Neon grinned wider.

“Cool... I know something that'll make you sunnier. I'll show you tomorrow, okay?” I blinked at him. I swear his smile must have been just as bright as the lamps. I smiled.

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, okay.”