A Touch of Pink P5

>You are Pinkie Pie.
>And Anonymous is lying next to you, snoring loudly.
>You giggle slightly.
>His snoring is cute.
>”So…what exactly happened back there? Since when did Anon start dating Rarity? I thought…”
>She cocks her head slightly.
>”You know. You and him…”
>You huff at her, making sure to avoid eye contact.
“It’s not like that Twilight…I’m just…I’m helping him.”
>You’re a terrible liar.
>”You’re a terrible liar, Pinkie. And I saw you crying at the restaurant.”
>You hang your head, sniffling slightly.
>”Come on, you can tell me Pinkie. It’s not like I’ll tell Rarity or anything. And besides, Anon seems a little busy at the moment.”
>She smiles softly; it seems that you don’t have much of a choice.
>And maybe she can help?
“Well, here goes, Twilight. But don’t tell Rarity! Or Anon! Or…or anyp0ny else, okay?”
>Wordlessly she motions your trademark: the Pinkie promise.
>You smile slightly, sadness creeping away from your face.
>”Well, it all began when he started working with me…”
>You regale to Twilight with the story of how you and Anon started becoming friends simply by working together.
>You loved baking, he loved baking.
>You loved throwing parties, and he loved to help.
>He always had something silly or charming to lighten up the mood.
>You were the perfect pair.
>The Cakes automatically assumed you were dating after only a few weeks of hiring him.
>…Anon was quick to correct them.
>You were just friends.
>”So…I take it you don’t want to be just friends with Anon, huh?”
>You shake your head slowly.
>”Then why didn’t you stop him from going out with Rarity? Why did you help him?”
“Because…I wanted him to be happy. And he kept talking about Rarity like he was crazy for her…”
>You can feel the tears beginning to well once again.
>Twilight seems to notice this, and drags a kerchief across your eyes gently.
>”Pinkie…I had no idea you liked Anon so much. But judging from his date with Rarity, I think this may be a golden opportunity for you.”
>Your droopy ears perk up.
“What do you mean?”
>”Well, I’m not an expert on relationships. But from some of the books I’ve read the best cure for a broken heart is fresh love. So…maybe if you’re simply there for Anon, he’ll see how much you care about him.”
“B-but Twilight…what if he just wants to stay friends?” You ask, glancing back at the human form next to you, still sound asleep.
>”You can’t force a heart to change, Pinkie. But I think you have a good chance of winning Anon over. Just do what you do best.”
“Um…party?”
>”No, silly. Make him smile.”

>You are Anonymous.
>Or at least, you want to say you’re Anonymous, but as it stands you’d much rather be nobody.
>But…technically your name means you’re nobody.
>This is a tragic paradox.
>It is morning, much too early for you to be awake, and yet your brain demands a cease from your torpor.
>The sunlight from your window seeks to penetrate the blanket bunker over your head.
>But you hold fast, and roll over, keeping your eyes closed like the doors to a vault.
>You will not win today, Celestia.
>You lie there, attempting to cease your head from pounding, both physically and mentally.
>You really goofed last night, from what you remember.
>Rarity…
>The pony of your dreams, quite literally.
>And you blew it.
>You groan audibly, to no one in particular.
>This was the kind of day to stay inside and be nobody.
>You were good at that.
>Time passes and your aching mind refuses to find any solace in your warm bed.
>Worst of all, your stomach seems to be ravaged by its own particular dilemma.
>You’re famished.
>But if you were to solve that problem, you’d have to actually get out of bed and move around.
>Two things that simply weren’t on your to-do list.
>You hear your door slowly creaking open, followed by a tinkling of glass.
>All accompanied with the aroma of food.
>”Nonny, I made you breakfast.” A voice calls to you, softly.
>Pinkie Pie.
“Mmrph” is all you manage, grunting into your pillow.
>”I…I don’t drink but Twilight said you might have a hangover. And if you’re sick, I know a nice meal is just the ticket. A happy tummy is a happy p0ny, after all.”
>You lie still in the bed, but the smell of…what is that?
>”So…I pulled a couple strings and I made you something special. You’re not a pony but I bet your tummy will be happy too.”
>Her hooffalls come closer to you.
>She’s probably right next to you.
>”But um…I didn’t plan this very well so if you could wake up and take this platter off of me, that’d be super.” She whispers, clearly a little strained.
>Your curiosity and stomach get the better of you, and you crack an eyelid open.
>There is your favorite pink party pony, standing next to your bed.
>On her back, somehow, is a little white lunch tray arranged with an assortment of food.
>Then your eye spies what your nose smelled.
>Pinkie Pie has brought you bacon.
“B-bacon?” You manage to groan, half talking to the pillow.
>She nods her head quickly, causing the dishes to clink together slightly.
>”And some orange juice, and some grapes, and some fresh squeezed milk. And um…I see you didn’t eat much last night. And you need your energy…so I made you some pancakes too.”
>She avoids looking at you, instead seemingly looking down at the floor.
>”Blueberry. Your favorite.”
>You moan in listless annoyance and attempt to stir yourself out of bed.
>You loved blueberry pancakes.
>The growls from your stomach are probably audible to her as well.
>Slowly, you rise and sit up in your bed.
“Thanks Pinkie.” You say tiredly, rubbing the sleepies out of your eyes.
>You move to take the tray off of her, weakness overtaking your arms slightly.
>Though the tray itself isn’t very heavy, you still have issue lifting it due to the contents.
>With a lack of grace, you manage to slump the tray on to your lap.
>Sure enough, Pinkie seemed to be able to procure a few strips of bacon.
>You reach out and grab a greasy slice, eagerly biting into it.
>Jesus Christ, even your jaw is tired.
>Pinkie jumps on your bed, somehow without disturbing your breakfast.
>She lies down on her side, and looks up to you.
>The sun shines ever so slightly through your drapes, setting her baby blue eyes alight with a glimmer.
>On any other day, you’d probably complement her.
>But today, her eyes just remind you of how much you fucked up last night.
>You finish off the bacon and drink a little juice in relative silence.
>Pinkie seems to be content with just lying on the bed there with you.
>It’s almost uncharacteristically quiet for her.
”Pinkie…is something wrong?”
>She shakes her head slowly, smiling ever so faintly.
“You’re not usually so quiet.”
>”Twilight said that you'd probably have a headache and that sound would upset you, so I’m trying to be quiet.” She speaks in a near whisper.
>Surprisingly, your headache seems to be mostly superficial.
>Probably hunger pains.
>You dab a little syrup on your pancakes and start to dig into them.
>”I told the Cakes you were sick, and they sent me home early to take care of you.”
>Oh shit you had work today?
”Fuck, I’m sorry Pinkie.  I didn’t-“
>”Shh, it’s alright, Nonny. We weren’t that busy today actually.”
“I…thank you Pinkie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
>Her tail begins to wiggle ever so slightly, and a compact smile grows on her face.
“How in the world did you get bacon, anyway?”
>”Well, the Cakes run a catering business, and sometimes they deliver to Gryphonia. But we have a really REALLY small stock of meat. I…I kinda sorta maybe just about had to sneak into the freezer when they weren't looking.”
>You swallow a bite of delicious blueberry pancake and cast her a curious glance.
“You stole from them?”
>”Um, well it’s not like they were really using it right?”
>You roll your eyes and finish off the pancakes.
“You’re something else Pinkie.”
>With food in your system, you actually feel a ton better, but still a bit tired.
>You finish off your milk and juice, and set the tray to the side of you, peeling off a few grapes.
>You motion to toss Pinkie a grape and she opens her mouth.
>With a lazy throw, you bounce one off of her nose, shocking her and causing you to giggle.
>”Sorry, I guess I should step up my game.”
>She smiles warmly, rubbing her nose with a hoof.
”Best two out of three?”
>You grin and peel off some more grapes.
>You spend the next half hour bouncing grapes off of a jubilant Pinkie Pie.
>Honest to god, you are a horrible shot, but it’s all in good fun.
>You even manage to land a few, though one of them made her dive near off of the bed.
>The two of you share a laugh as she picks up the missed throws.
>Through all of the morning though, something has been annoying you in the back of your mind.
>You’re pretty sure you’re starting to remember some bits about last night.
>And you think Pinkie Pie may have had a hand in the whole mess.
>Though how in the hell would you bring that up?
>Oh hey Pinkie, were you responsible for sabotaging my date?
>No, she wouldn't do that.
>Not after all of the trouble she went through to make it perfect.
>Ugh, maybe you should just put it out of your mind.
>If you can.
>You clamber out of bed finally as Pinkie picks up the last of the grapes.
>You stretch and groan loudly as several of your joints in your shoulders pop.
>You catch Pinkie looking at you, a grape still in her teeth.
>Her eyes are wide and her visage seems frozen.
“Uh, Pinkie?”
>She ponderously raises a hoof to point at you.
>You? What’s wrong with you?
>You look around your body and…then you look down.
>You are completely naked.
>You immediately glance over to her, and she’s still staring, grape in mouth.
>Though now her cheeks are colored a rosy red.
“PINKIE WHY AM I NAKED?” You yell in her direction, rending the blanket from the bed and wrapping it around you hastily.
>She bites down on the grape in panic and looks down…around…everywhere but towards you.
>”WellYouSeeWeWereWorriedYouWereGoingToGetSickBecauseYouKindaSortaThrewUpOnYourClothesSoTwilightMagickedThemOffOfYouWhenWeGotYouIntoBedBut-“
>You take a deep breath and hold out a hand signaling her to stop.
”Thank you for the breakfast, Pinkie. It was really sweet of you. And for seemingly rescuing me last night…but I think you should go now. I…I have to go apologize to Rarity.”
>Pinkie sort of freezes in place at mention of Rarity.
>”Um…what are you going to tell her?”
“Well, that I’m sorry for ruining her night, for starters. Also I may have run out on the bill. I forgot all of the money you gave me when I was changing into my fancy clothes at Rarity’s.”
>”Did…did she um…”
“What, see me naked? No. At least I don’t think so. It was kind of a blur.”
>A small smile creeps across her face.
>”Well I don’t think you should apologize to her. She said awful things to you and made fun of you.”
“Pinkie…she’s an upper class p0ny and I embarrassed her in front of her peers. Hell, I got drunk and acted a fool.”
>”She made you order something you didn't like!” Pinkie says, her volume starting to rise.
>You remain calm, however.
>Why is she getting worked up?
“Because I couldn’t read the menu!”
>”She could have read it! You could have asked me! I know you don’t like spicy food! I would have ordered your favorite!” She says, taking a few steps forward with each word.
“Why the heck didn’t you just bring me it then?”
>Suddenly the baby blue eyes of Pinkie Pie are alight with a rage you’d not seen before.
>Wait fuck
>”I don’t even see what you like in her! She’s mean to you, and…and she insults you and she can’t even make a decent éclair probably!”
“Pinkie I-“
>Before you can finish and somehow defend yourself, she interrupts you.
>”You know what? Fine, Anon! Go apologize to Rarity! I’m going home.”
“Wait-“ you stammer as Pinkie Pie gallops out of your room, slamming the front door.
>The vibrations shudder through the house, and a picture frame on your dresser clatters to the floor.
>You breathe in a heavy sigh.
>Now you fucked up, apparently.
>Was it really so wrong to be civil to Rarity?
>And why was she getting so upset?
>You discard the blanket and walk over to the picture frame, picking it up.
>It’s not damaged thankfully.
>You glance down at the picture for a few moments.
>It’s a drawing that Pinkie Pie did of the two of you, not long after you arrived in Ponyville.
>It was crude, and drawn in crayon, but it exuded so much charm that you HAD to frame it and stick it in your room.
>Just the mere mention of this set Pinkie into frantic happiness for days.
>It was either that or all of the sugar she imbibes while working.
>Or both, really, it was hard to tell.
>You set the picture down where it belongs.
>You hope Pinkie wasn’t too mad at you.
>You’d never made her upset before.
>And to be fair, she was actually a little terrifying.
>Thankfully, with a full stomach, at least your headache was gone.
>Well, no work today.
>But that doesn’t mean you won’t be busy.
>You start towards your bathroom when you hear a knock at the door downstairs.
>Oh bloody hell, fine.
>You scrounge around for some pants and stumble downstairs.
“I’m coming, hold on.”
>You open the door to find none other than the white fashionista herself.
>Rarity.
>She wears a look of complete neutrality as she strolls past you wordlessly.
“Uh, good morning Rarity.” You say to her as she passes you.
>She doesn’t respond.
>Instead she makes her way over to your couch, hopping up on it and patting the seat next to her with a hoof.
>This won’t end well.