Drunken Hearted: Pt. 4: The Urban Legend, 1:15 a.m.

>You swipe the keycard and enter your room.
>You walk in slowly, feeling the stillness in the air…the loneliness.
>On the floor, there’s a package on the small table near the door.
>The label reads “Urgent delivery. To: Anonyous. Philton Inn. Room 808.”
>You rip the box open and a few fabric samples gracefully float to the floor along with a note.
>You unfold it and read it aloud to yourself.
“Anon, which color do you prefer for an evening gown? I like the burgundy.”
>You switch between looking at the words written on the paper and the samples.
>They’re all dark red; only varying slightly in hues. You’re confused.
Which one is burgundy?
>You pile the fabric on top of the shredded box and look at your watch in anticipation.
>Minuette may show up at any time; better get ready.
>You throw off your scarf and over shirt and dig in your suitcase for another outfit to wear.
>Everything you have is stupid.
>It’s all strange looking with weird prints and bright colors.
>Is this what’s popular nowadays? Rarity is a famous designer, so she’d be the one to know.
>You don’t want to look like an out-of-touch weirdo in front on Minuette’s friends.
>You dig to find an orange t-shirt with a camouflage print on it.
>Rarity thought this would catch on; an urban uniform that combines the ruggedness of military attire with the reverse function of fluorescent color.
>It was never one of your favorites, but you decide that it’s worth it to look hip and to help blend in.
>You slide the shirt over your head just in time to hear the door rumble in a series of rhythmic knocks.
Coming!
>You swing the door open to see Minuette’s face quickly turn hysterical at the sight of your road worker military attire.
>”What is that thing?”
>You tug the fabric and look down at it. You speak to her in a vague, sarcastic tone.
This isn’t cool?
>Minuette politely shakes her head, but can’t shake the smirk from her lips.
Really? I was afraid of that.
>You invite her into the room, hoping she doesn’t see Rarity’s package.
I kept telling myself that I wanted to be ready in case we went to war tonight.
>She giggles at your corny joke as you go to the bathroom and put on your shirt from earlier.
>The phone rings. You pick it up while Minuette peers inside the bathroom.
Hello?
>”Hello, Mr. Anonymous. This is the lobby, you have a phone call. Shall we put it through?”
>You think.
Who is it?
>”It’s Ms. Rarity calling from her studio. Shall I put her through?”
>You look at Minuette who is waiting intently for you to finish the call.
Uhm…just tell her I wasn’t here. Thanks.
>You hang the phone up.
>”My bathroom is messier than yours.”
>She states matter-of-factly.
>”…Not that you aren’t trying though.”
>You smile to her as you walk over to the closet and throw a blazer over your shirt to shield yourself from the biting cold.
>You walk to the door and look down at Minuette.
Where’s your room key?
>She motions to the table
>”In my bag!”
And where’s your bag?
>She levitates it in front of your face while smiling.
>”Right here!”
>You crack the door open and give a motion like you’re about to sprint out of the room.
Well, there’s the elevator…I’ve gotta get going!
>”Hey wait up!”
>The two of you run down the hallway, laughing all the way.
>In the elevator, the two of you stand motionless next to one another.
>You stare at the ceiling, Minuette stares at the floor.
>Despite the opposing gaze, you both have smiles on your faces.
>You playfully sway into the unicorn and nudge her.
>With a widening smile, she playfully nudges you in the same manner.
>The doors open.
>Minuette sprints to the front door and looks back at you.
>”Come on! It’s a long walk, Anon!”
>You slowly jog toward her. Everyone stares at the two of you. She feels no shame in acting silly in public like you do.
>Outside the blustery city air blows your hair and Minuette’s mane easily.
>The two of you walk the streets for a few blocks, moving from the tourist section of the city to the residential within a few minutes.
Where are we going?
>Up until now, you’ve just been following her in the city.
>”Just to a bar to meet some of my friends for drinks and stuff. I haven’t seen them since I was in a wedding with them a few years ago.”
>You hope her friends like you.
>Minuette leads you near the park where you watched the kite flyers.
>”We’re almost there.”
>The circular park lights attract moths and give off a yellow hue that illuminates the trees and benches within it.
>It’s a serene, tranquil location amidst the hectic city around it.
>Minuette speaks up.
>”I like it too. I came here once before when I applied for my job. I was really nervous and everything; I was alone and completely lost in the city.”
>Minuette continues walking while staring at the fading park.
>”I don’t know…I just ended up here somehow. It was like a life raft was thrown to me. It made me feel safe, y’know?”
>You’d like to experience a life raft right about now.
I think I do.
>Minuette looks back at you and stops.
>”Do you? Do you want to drown in this place; to feel your heart wash away, never to be seen again?”
>Her seriousness surprises you.
>You look up at the twinkling lights that tower above you before returning to reality to answer Minuette’s question.
It’s too late for us. We’re already in the ocean.
>She stares at your blank face for a few moments before speaking.
>”Yeah. I guess so.”
>The two of you exchange a smile to mend your wounded hearts.
>”Come on, it’s just around the corner.”
>You enter the noisy bar with Minuette who is soon swarmed by a yellow stallion and a couple of mares.
>They all happily exchange hugs with one another while you force an awkward smile. You fidget with the inside of your pockets.
>”Ah! Charlie! Anon, this is Charlie.”
>You awkwardly wave and nod to the stallion.
Hi, I’m Anon.
>Minuette and her friends go to a table as you trail behind them.
>You’re good at following people.
>You take a seat at the table and order a drink.
>Minuette goes to the bar while Charlie introduces you to the two mares sitting next to you.
>Charlie speaks to them.
>”Hey, Anon these are some girls I want you to meet. This is Lyra and Twinkleshine.”
>They wave to you.
>”He’s from Ponyville!”
>They make a surprised noise in unison.
Actually, Chicago.
>They go blank as you sip your newly arrived drink in embarrassment.
>Minuette returns and chats happily to her friends.
>You awkwardly talk to Charley who, as it turns out, is fluent in pony French and is an avid surfer in his native Los Pegasus.
>A few hours later you and Charley are chatting it up while Minuette and her friends laugh at a table near you.
>He occasionally speaks in French without noticing it.
>You casually respond to his cryptic words.
Oui.
>Minuette tugs your arm.
>”Hey, having fun?”
Yes, actually. My accent is getting better.
>She laughs as Charley talks.
>”We can take this back to my place. It’s just a few blocks from here, if you guys want to?”
>It’s 1:15 a.m.
>Minuette looks at you. You bounce your head in agreement.
>You put out your cigarette and exit the bar a little more relaxed due to your 3 whiskeys.
>Minuette and her friends are a little less than sober.
>The 5 of you decide to seize the moment and run loudly through the streets to Charley’s apartment.
>Minuette skips next to your buzzy steps until you arrive at Charley’s loft.
>Inside the calmly-lit home, there is gentle music playing in the background as Minuette and Lyra sit on the couch and get acquainted with Charley’s roommate, Hahns.
>Charley is catching up with the mares as you look around the apartment.
>It’s spacious and has a certain urban feel to it, but still cozy.
>Lava lamps, furry rugs, soda company signs.
>You see an instant camera.
>You haven’t seen one of these in years.
>You join Minuette and her friends on the large sofa.
>”Hey. Whatcha got there?”
This?
>You hold the camera up to your eye.
I’m not sure. What do you think I should call it?
>Minuette comically ponders aloud.
>”Hmm...”
>She pulls Lyra and Hahns close to her.
>”I think I’ll call it, CHEESE!”
>You snap the photograph in an instant flash before the camera spits it out.
>Lyra swipes it and looks at the developing photograph.
>”Wow, nice one, Anon. Here…let me take one of you two.”
>Minuette slides over to you and grabs your hands to wrap around her neck.
>She looks up to you.
>”Hey! Make a face with me!”
Wha-
>You are instantly blinded by the camera. You hold your eyes and try to blink away the spots created by the flash.
>The mares in front of you shine with an aura of pink brutality as they laugh.
>Lyra hands you the photo.
>”I like it! It really captures your friendship!”
>You hold the photo so you and Minuette can see it.
>Your eyes are half-closed and Minuette is staring up at you through her mane.
>It looks absolutely silly, but Lyra was right.
>For the first time in a while, you look happy. Minuette makes you happy, you like being with her.
>You fold the photo and stick it into the inside of your blazer pocket.
>Minuette taps your chest.
>”Hang on to that, okay?”
>You both laugh.
>The party progresses into the night. After a few cigarettes, you and Minuette depart back to the bowels of the city.
>Both of you are very tired.
>You and Minuette walk a few blocks and hail a cab back to the hotel room
>As you ride, you look at the city through the glass.
>The lights kiss the window as you glide through the streets and the ponys blur on the sidewalk.
>Everything is passing by you so fast, but you and Minuette are still within the confines of the cab.
>You look over to her, but she’s fast asleep and slouching.
>It’s adorable.
>As you arrive at the hotel, you go to opposite side of the cab to help Minuette out.
>She can barely stand, so you’re forced to carry her to her room.
>You fidget in her bag for her key. It’s difficult to juggle her and open the door in sync with the lock.
>Once inside, you place Minuette in her bed and throw the top of the comforter on her like a tortilla.
>You pat her head and turn off the light.
>One last glance at the sleeping unicorn before shutting the door and checking to make sure it’s locked.
>No turning back now.
>The idea of that upsets you, but there’s always tomorrow.
>You slowly stride down the hallway back to the elevator.
>Tonight was strange. Was it bad to enjoy it all?
>The ride back to your room seems longer than ever now.
>When you get back to the suite, you can see Rarity’s package on the table.
>Guilt.
>You look at the clock.
>3:20.
>After removing your shoes and jacket, you lay on the bed and plant your hands on your face.
>You roll over and remove the phone from the base and dial Rarity’s cell phone.
>You don’t know why you are, she’s probably not awake.
>”Hello?”
>Maybe she is.
Heeyyy…
>”Hello, Anon.”
Hey, you know, those fabric samples …you were right about the burgundy. It blows all the other’s away…they don’t even come close.
>”Well I’m glad you liked it.”
>She sounds irritated.
I saw a great house tonight that you would have loved. This guy designed his own house. He’s an artist—there were all these artist-types there—and surfers…
>”Wish I could have been there.”
>Her voice is vague and condescending.
And they were playing this really, really great music, I should have found out what it was…I’ll find out and get it so you can hear.
>”That’s great, Anon. Hold on.”
>Rarity talks to some people on the other end of the phone. Something about clothes inspired by breakfast foods or something.
>You lay in bed still reflecting on the events that happened hours ago.
>Tranquility.
>Rarity returns.
>”Well I’m glad you’re having fun.”
>She sounds madder than before.
It’s not fun. It’s just…it’s just very, very different.
>Rarity is silent for a moment before speaking.
>”Maybe that’s good.”
>Her words shred your joy to pieces.
>”Well, I have to get this stuff lined out. I’ll call you in a little while.”
>She’s been working so hard she doesn’t even know what time it is.
I might not be up…it’s, like, 4:00.
>”Hmm. Well thanks for checking it. I’ve got to go.”
>You can feel Rarity’s love slipping from you in this moment. She seems to not care at all.
All right…have a great night…
>”Alright.”
Well, I guess, have a great morning, huh?
>You force a weak chuckle.
>”Good night, Anon.”
Goodnight…
>”Good night.”
>The conversation ends with a click, followed by a dial tone.
>You speak to the lifeless receiver.
I love you.
>The dial tone continues faintly in your ear.
>Your final efforts were pruned far too soon.
>You return the phone to its dock.
That was stupid.
>You turn off the light before rolling over.
>You remember the photo that was in your pocket.
>In the still room, you place your hand on the spot where it was.
>At least someone still cares.