Chap. 1

>You are Anonymous, as always, in Equestria.
>The soft light of the moon filters through the window blinds into the small room of your shared apartment.
> A heavy thumping at the entryway down the hallway startles you awake. The heady mixture of adrenaline and sleep deprivation makes your head swim as your heart beats a frantic pattern against your chest. Through a haze of exhaustion that clouds your vision, you clumsily search the bedside next to you for your cellphone.
>Your hand finally makes contact with the familiar shape of your phone and the screen goes from dark to blindingly bright as you raise it to your face, squinting at the numbers top right corner.
>3:08am
>Fuck.
> Four more thumps, this time slower and more deliberate than the ones that woke you. You’re surprised the noises hasn’t woken your flat-mate as well.
>No angry hoofsteps or muttered curses coming from down the hall.
>Not that they’d be here anyways, they’re always out and about doing something at all hours of the night. But it was a nice possibility to imagine, so you wouldn’t have to leave the comforting warmth of your bed.
>Who the fuck would be at the door this early? You consider ignoring them and going back to bed. Yeah, that sounds pretty appealing right now. Fuck ‘em, whoever is at the door is going to learn a lesson in appropriate visitation times.
>WHUMP
>WHUMP
>WHUMP
>Okay, you’re pretty sure that’s the sound of someone’s head making contact with the wood of your front door. It would probably be a good idea to go and chase them off before you become liable for any brain damage potentially being inflicted.
>You swing your legs out of bed and quickly rub away the sleep crusting the edges of your eyelids.
>The noise has stopped by the time you reach the front door and open it a crack, revealing the last pony you expected to arrive at this godforsaken hour.
>The moon illuminates the white fur and neon mane of your equine roommate. Her red eyes eyes are glazed and bloodshot behind the purple shades she always wears.
>Vinyl Scratch looks up at you and wobbles unsteadily, as though her legs are refusing to accept the orders she's giving them, and finally slumps to a seated position.
>"Took you fuckin' long enough," she slurs and the sour smell of booze invades your nostrils.
>Just what you you always wanted, a drunken pony on your doorstep at three in the god damn morning.
>It’s like Christmas back on Earth, but instead of presents you’ve got a shitfaced asshole who wouldn’t look out of place in a D.A.R.E pamphlet on the dangers of alcohol.
>Actually, now that you think, it’s exactly like Christmas back on Earth. Thanks for fucking nothing, Dad.
>Guess some things never change.
>Your introspection is interrupted by a sniffle from Vinyl, who is squinting up at you.
>”Why’d ya’ lock m’ out?”
>She’s slurring so badly it sounds like her tongue is too big for her mouth.
>You look at her like she’s crazy.
“I didn’t. You’ve got a key, just like I do.”
>Her keyring raises to your eye level, encased in a cloud of (cerulean?) blue unicorn magic.
>”It didn’ work. None a m’ fuckin’. keys. worked.”
>She punctuates these last three words with accusatory jabs from the keys.
>Though only made for emphasis, Vinyl overshoots one of the jabs and almost takes your left eye out.
>You thankfully manage to duck out of the way and proceed to keep a wary eye on the keys as you check on the lock on the outside of the door.
>Judging by the large amount of scratches on the metal surface, Vinyl had tried to insert her key everywhere BUT the keyhole.
.>"Y' don't wan' me here anymore. Y' locked th' door t' keep me out."
>You sigh and squat down to where you are face to face with her.
“I wouldn’t do that to you Vinyl, I promise.”
>You stand up straight again and open the door wider.
“Come inside, it’s way too early for me to be awake and you shouldn’t be staying outside when you’re like this.”
>She wobbles after you through the doorway, but stops and leans against the wall only halfway down the hall.
> With a frustrated groan, she slides down into a uncomfortable looking prone position on the carpet.
> I don’ wanna move...” she moans unhappily.
>Shit
>Well... This’ll be embarrassing for both of you, but judging by how wasted she is, at least Vinyl won’t remember it in the morning.
>You bend down and put your arms under the white pony’s forelegs and around her chest, meeting in the middle.
>”Wha’?”
“If you don’t want to move, I’m going to have to carry you.”
>”Oh.”
>She goes limp and allows you to carry her to the couch in your shared living room/dining area.
>You plop her on the middle cushion, where she curls up, looking miserable.
>You head into the kitchen, retrieve a glass from the cupboard and fill it from the faucet.
>Water is good for drunk people, right? It helps reduce the hangover in the morning or some shit like that. You honestly don't remember.
>It’s better than just sitting around waiting for Vinyl to fall asleep or vomit.
>”Ih do’ fheel sho’ good...”
>You hear Vinyl slur from the coach.
“What?”
>”I don’ feel good righ’ now...”
>SPEAKING OF WHICH
>You hurriedly set the water glass on the counter and rush over to Vinyl
>Her muzzle is scrunched and you can see her stomach tense up as the muscles inside start seizing.
>FUCK FUCK FUCK WHAT DO I DO
>The closest garbage can is under the sink in the kitchen. But it’s already full of trash. You won’t make it back in time if you try and grab and empty bag.
>IMPROVISE
>You grab Vinyl by her front hooves, heave her off the couch onto the carpet and head for the bathroom, backpedaling with all your strength with your drunk roommate half stumbling, half being dragged down the hallway.
>You only manage to barely pass the entrance to the bathroom before Vinyl’s stomach rebels.
> The first gout of vomit goes all over the floor and onto Vinyl’s front.
>You manage to reach the toilet before it happens again and hold her mane back as she retches miserably into the porcelain bowl.
>After a few minutes, Vinyl’s heaving has subsided and you both slump, exhausted, to the cold tile floor.
>The smell brings you back to your senses. You’ve got vomit all over your pants and Vinyl is shivering next to you.
>Guess you’d better clean up this mess.
>And Vinyl too.
>The shower head sputters to life, raining warm water down over Vinyl Scratch, who does not even react.
>Should you help her? She’s not exactly in any condition to wash herself.
>No. Stop right there Anon.
>Even if your intentions are completely innocent, you’re not that close to Vinyl.
>She’s your roommate, not your marefriend.
>It wouldn’t be right.
>You sigh, leaving Vinyl to soak under the showerhead, and go to change your pants.
>After acquiring a new pair and depositing the soiled ones in the wash, you return with gloves, sponge, and bleach.
>With a good amount of scrubbing, the mess and smell in the bathroom soon fades away.
>You take a quick peek at Vinyl in the shower.
>She looks wet and miserable, but fortunately clean enough.
>You turn off the water and retrieve your fluffiest towel from the rack.
>Drying her off takes time.
>Only her bloodshot eyes are visible from inside the towel and she stares up at you unhappily.
>She mumbles something that is obscured by the towel.
“What?”
>” m’ sorry...”
>You shush her gently.
“It’s fine. No need to apologize.”
>You gently lift Vinyl off the bathroom floor and carry her towards her bedroom.
>She feels small and fragile. You’re afraid you might break her if you’re not gentle
>Vinyl’s room is full of electronics in various states of disarray.
>You’re careful not to step on any as you take her to the bed crammed in the corner.
>There’s a laptop, headphones, and a mixing deck taking up all available space on the bed.
>You set Vinyl down on the edge and move the equipment from the bed to the nearby desk.
>Now with the bed empty, you move Vinyl so her head is on the pillow and pull the cover over her.
>The water you poured for her is still on the kitchen counter, so you go and retrieve it along with some asprin.
“Drink this.”
>”m-wha?” she murmers.
“It’ll make you feel a little better.”
>You hold it to her lips and she takes a few sips without questioning.
>After she’s through, you place the water on her desk next to the aspirin.
>When you turn back, her eyes are already closed and her breathing is slow and deep.
>She looks so peaceful and innocent you can’t help but stare for a while.
>You hadn’t really thought about it before, but Vinyl Scratch really is a beautiful mare.
>She sighs and curls up more under the blankets and you can’t help but smile a bit.
>A cute little quiet burp from Vinyl brings you back to reality.
>It’s hard to admire a mare whose vomit you just had to mop up.
>But you manage to do it anyways.
“Goodnight Vinyl.”
>You quietly exit her room and close the door.
>The siren song of your bed is irresistible.
>You barely remember crawling into bed before the night envelops you, bringing a dreamless sleep.