Drunken Hearted Pt. 3: Invisible Girl

>It’s late afternoon, and you wake up in the bed alone.
>You vaguely remember Rarity coming to the room very late last night. You wish the memories were delusions.
>Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t sleep after coming back upstairs.
>As you lay in the silent suite, you could hear Rarity and another voice beyond the threshold of the door.
>She was laughing and talking loudly to someone…
>Some stallion.
>”Oh, Pierre, you are simply too charming. Make sure you come find me at the studio tomorrow.”
>The stallion spoke in a lower sensual tone.
>”What about him? Won’t he mind?”
>There’s a silence beyond the walls before Rarity speaks up.
>”Don’t worry about him.”
>Her words tore you up inside; shredded your heart.
>Rarity opens the door as you make your body go limp in a false slumber.
>Rarity climbed into bed in silence and fell asleep.
>You wake in the new day to find she’s gone with nothing but a note slipped under the door.
>Within it, Rarity has left you a note that informs you she’s going to be pulling an all-nighter due to some mismatched sweater patterns and some orders that needed filling and wouldn’t be home for the next two nights.
Great.
>Nothing like being alone… not that you weren’t already.
>You don’t know what to do now.
>You go to the shower and stand aimlessly in the hot water for a few moments before getting dressed.
>In your suitcase you dig through the clothes Rarity has made for you throughout your relationship.
>Some are absurd and gaudy; others are simple contemporary Earth designs.
>It’s easy to see the timeline of your relationship with Rarity through these outfits.
>You put on a long sleeved shirt over your normal T; a scarf thrown around your neck rounds out the ensemble.
>You go to the elevator and stand in it alone as you descend.
>The door dings before your unknown unicorn friend enters. It’s a nice surprise for this lonely morning.
>The doors close as she looks up at you.
>”Hey. Going out?”
>She motions to your scarf.
Oh…yeah, I guess. I don’t really know where to go though, I’ll just wander.
>She giggles at your blank words.
>”That’s no fun. Have you eaten?”
>You hold your stomach to try and recall a nonexistent memory.
No; not today at least.
>She giggles again.
>”Well, why don’t we eat then…sound good?”
>Without giving you a choice, she taps the “lounge” button on the elevator.
Sounds good.
>The door dings a few moments later.
>You and the mare depart to a small table near a window.
>There’s a light veil of gray fog lingering above the city streets as you look at the towering landscape.
>You order a glass of whisky and an omelet.
>It’s not morning, but your body is easy to fool.
>The unicorn has a messenger bag slung around the back of her chair.
>It’s peppered with pins of pony rock bands: Marrissey, Sonic Filly, and My Bloody Special Somepony.
>Stuff you’d like.
>You look at one another from across the small table.
So…what are you doing here?
>She ponders for a second.
>”Uh…a couple of things; taking a break from my fiancé…forgetting his birthday…and getting paid 5,000 bits to cover a silly play when I could be following a career path I actually enjoy.”
>She rests her head on her hoof and brings her coffee to her mouth.
>”But the good news is that it’s all free.”
>You smile and look at the streets.
>”What are you doing here?”
>You have to think hard at the question.
Uhm, my girlfriend is a designer, so she’s here working. I wasn’t really doing anything so I came along.
>You pull out a cigarette and light it; freedom to smoke without the guilt.
>”How long have you two been together?”
>You inhale and savor the flavor while reflecting on the spotted past.
Two years.
>She smiles.
>”Five for me. I don’t envy you one bit.”
>You both laugh as your food arrives. She followed in your path and ordered breakfast too.
So what do you do?
>”I’m not…sure actually. Right now I’m writing for a magazine but…I don’t know… it’s not really something I want to do.”
>She furrows her brow.
Why? I thought pony’s jobs were decided by their cutie mark? What’s yours?
>She laughs to cover her embarrassment.
>”It’s an hourglass. If you can interpret that any better than I can, I’d love to hear it.”
>It really is a mystery to you. Selling clocks doesn’t seem like it’s a good job.
Then why journalism?
>She chews her grainy waffles.
>”I don’t know. I’m punctual, so I guess that’s in my favor. But I can’t get a job for being on time.”
>You smile at her.
Well…
>You sip your bitter whisky.
>She looks at you in anticipation. Her syrup slowly falls off the waffle onto the plate.
There’s always fast food.
>She giggles with you before mopping up some syrup with her waffle.
>”Yeah, I’m not cut out for that either… I tried…I’ve tried it all…”
>You look out at the vast city again. It seems to have grown bigger since you last looked at it.
>The unicorn’s voice is low and serious.
>“It really is big, isn’t it? It makes you feel so small… so insignificant.”
>Her words hit you hard inside.
You said it.
>You look to her.
But I guess being a pony it’s worse; being short and all. I bet you feel really minute.
>The unicorn almost spits her coffee everywhere.
>Did you say something wrong?
>”That’s my name!”
Short?
>Her laughs signal your incorrectness.
>”No, Minuette. Like…time; minute.”
>Her laughs are as refreshing as the summer in this wintery weather.
>You smash your cigarette butt against the ashtray.
So…minute Minuette visits Manhattan and has a cutie mark confusion?
>She laughs harder before sipping her drink to avoid spitting it everywhere.
>”Yeah, something like that.”
>You finish your last forkful of egg. It’s the most you’ve felt like eating in a few days. Rarity always seems to want to eat stupidly-healthy foods.
>”The hotel has a spa that I found last night. The pool’s pretty big, too.”
>You scoff.
That’s just my luck, too. I can’t swim.
>Minuette looks at your cigarette pack. You motion to her that she can have one.
>She lights it and releases a tiny trail of white smoke after her inhale.
>”I thought that was something people just…learned; that they didn’t need to be taught.”
>You smirk at her words.
>Not when you grow up in the city like you did.
No. There are just some things not everyone knows: how to swim, how to drive, how to sing…
>You look at the bottom of your glass as you bring it to your mouth.
How to love.
>You throw it back and sip the remaining alcohol.
>You look into Minuette’s eyes through the cigarette smoke. The uneasy feeling of love that you see reflected in yours is present.
>She’s a sparkling light in this chaotic city.
>For the first time in a while, you feel like you connect with another being.
>A small smile is exchanged between the two of you.
Y’know…I’m trying to organize a prison break. But first, we have to get out of this hotel…and then the city…and then off the coast and go someplace far away.
>Minuette laughs and rises from the chair after putting out her cigarette.
>”Well, I’ll go get my coat then.”
>You watch her walk away, but she turns and steps back to you with her ears perked up.
>”What room are you in?”
>You have to remember.
Uh, 808. Why?
>”Well, I’m going out with some friends later if you want to come?”
>You think. It would be nice to be with somebody who understands for a change…to experience the city with someone who’s in awe of its urban beauty as much as you are.
Sure. I’d like that.
>She’s happy at your acceptance to her invitation.
>Minuette grabs her bag from the chair.
>”Great. Well, I’ll see you later then.”
>She starts to walk away once more. You call out to her across the lounge.
Don’t be late!
>Her head bounces with laughter.
>You watch Minuette smile to you as the elevator doors close.
>Her cigarette still smolders next to yours in the ashtray.
>The clock on the wall reads almost 9:00.
>You rise from the table and stare down to the street with bustling people and swirling lights.
>Soon you’ll dive into the sea of lights once more.
>This time with a guide who understands you.
>You walk to the elevator. You should have gone with her.
>The doors open and you head back to your room.