I'm afraid of a season

>You feel sick, and weary, and unhappy.
>It's almost the end of Summer.
>Instead of happiness and brilliance filling each day one and all are panicky, nervous and scared.
>None will speak of this disturbing shift in emotion, but they all know about it.
>Soon fall will be around, the days will become short and it'll be back to the dreadful grind.

>You sit on the fence on the farthest side of Sweet Apple Acres, the setting sun mocking you as it sinks into the horizon.
>Not wanting to look at it you turn your gaze to the grass, a soft wind blows it to the left.
>Something catches your ear, the near silent sound of someone trotting closer.
>A smile curls across your face, you look up to see Big Mac moseying forward, sprig of wheat in his mouth.
>Oh, he makes it all better.
>You try to dispel your grin, but it just won't work.
>He says nothing, taking a position beside you on the fence, leaning up against it.
"Hey," you say, a little of your giddiness showing in your voice.
>"I thought I'd find you here."
>There is some silence, you can't think of anything to say, and you know Big Mac won't say anything.
"You like sunsets?"
>"On occasion."
"Depends on the company you're with?"
>He nods, looking at the orange globe in the distance.
>You begin to feel nervous, afraid of how to precede.
"Are you liking this sunset?" you say, hoping your little hint makes sense to this hard to crack stallion.
>He looks up at you, with a calm expressionless face, "It's one of the better ones."
>You pray that means what you want it to mean.
>You clear your throat awkwardly.
>It's getting dark, darker even with the clouds gathering above.
"How's the whole mare situation."
>He shrugs, "No changes. You know I'm particular."
>Oh he always says that.
>What does that mean?
>Maybe it's a hint!
"I am too. Have I ever told you? It's so hard to find the perfect one," you apply some emotion to those last few words.
>He looks at you with curious, and confused eyes.
>"I think I understand..."
>Your eyes go wide, did that just work?
>Did it happen?
"Looks like it's going to rain," you comment, looking up at the dark clouds that have blocked out the moon.
>"We should head inside before it comes down," he replies softly, heading off.
>You hurry to catch up, somewhat excited.
>But also very aware that you could be getting your hopes up for nothing.

>The rain comes pouring down before you and Big Mac are even half way to the farmhouse.
>By some chance while you and he are stumbling around the fields a small shack comes into view.
>You're already soaked, and so is he.
>You give him a smile and nod toward the little rickety thing.
>His pace quickens, and you step it up to keep up with him.
>By the time you and him get inside there is no longer any point.
>You brush your wet hair out of your eyes, suddenly realizing how small this place is.
>There is next to no room to move, you and Big Mac are forced close together, hot breath washing over each other.
>The patter of rain and the huffing of you and him are the only sounds.
>You can't recall anytime you've been close with him like this.
>It's...nice.
"Well, we might be here awhile."
>He looks around, "Eeyup."
>You inch closer to him, just trying to some of his warmth.
>He doesn't seem to notice, and doesn't move.
"I'm cold, you?"
>He looks up at you with slightly wide eyes, head nodding slowly.
>Your really close now.
>Maybe now is the time to make a move.
>In a swift movement you lean down and kiss him.
>The night goes silent, the rain seems to stop, all you can sense is his lips pressed against yours.
>But he retracts quickly, stumbling back and hitting the wall, a bucket gets knocked over, creating move clatter.
>"The hay is wrong with you?"

"I-I'm sorry, it was an accident," you claim, flinching.
>You fucked up.
>You fucked up, badly.
>"That wasn't no accident. Y-you just uh..." his voice trails off.
>He shakes his head.
>He recollects himself, and steps forward, not looking upset or disgusted, just tired tired.
>And maybe a little unsure.
>He takes a few unsteady steps forward, his eyes looking everywhere but at you.
>Assuming he is trying to get close you shorten the trip, inching forward, face hot and hands trembling.
>Why does this have to be so hard?
>You and him are within touching distance, He hops up, putting his hooves on your chest.
>He looks at you sternly, his face a mix of uncertainty and disturbance.
>You dip your head toward him-
>Success!
>Oh this is amazing, you shut your eyes tight.
>It's just like you've imagined.
>He pulls back again, brow furrowed, searching around the room with his eyes.
"What's the matter?"
>"This is a little, uh, strange for me."
>You close the gap.
"Relax, don't worry. We can go as slow or as quick as you want."
>He glances over at a bale of hay.
>"Might as well go quick. An' I got an idea."

"Are you sure about this?"
>He nods, laying some more hay on the floor.
>You take off your wet shirt, but hold off undressing further.
>He gets on his back, cracking a nervous, shaky smile.
>You return, your own uncertainty bleeding through.
>This could very well be the best thing that's happened in a very long time.
>You descend upon him, running your hand up his soft stomach.
>A kiss gives you another taste of this fine stallion.
>Once more you notice the patter of the rain as your senses heighten.
>One of his hooves runs down your chest, down to your leg.
>It meets up with his other hoof, undoing the button on your pants.
>With a sharp intake of breath you slid off your jeans, your hand running over his shaft.
>He lets out a long breath, shivering at your touch.
>You smile warmly, kissing his chest, the his mouth another time.
>It only gets better.
>He nuzzles your chest, soft mane tickling you.

>You button up your shirt, just now noticing the rain has ended.
>Big Mac gives you a half grin, you spot some regret in his features.
>But your brain won't accept it, you're too focused on what could be the start of something great.
"Wow. I don't even know what to say after that."
>He leans up against the wall, catching his breath, "Eeyup."
"Yeah, that works."
>A knocking comes at the shack's door.
>"Big Mac?" Applejack calls.
>Fuck.
>His eyes go wide and shoot to the door.

>He shakes his hoof at you, singling for you to hide behind something.
>You duck behind the door as it's the only option.
>Applejack lets herself in, a few drops of rain water flying by.
>"Hey, whaddya doing in here?" she asks.
>"Er," his eyes flick to you in the corner, "Just keepin' out of the rain."
>"Well c'mon Applebloom was worryin' about you. Ya know how late it is?"
>"Nope," he replies, following her out.
>The doors shuts after a few seconds.
>You wait with your ear pressed up against the door, listening for their fading voices as they walk back home.
>After about ten minutes of shakiness you let out a sigh of relief, sliding down the door.
>Except for the little interruption at the end this has been the best night of your life.
>You slip out quietly, running back into town and sneaking into your house.
>You lay your head down, dreaming of what could be and trying to forget what stood in your way.

>When morning came and it was time for work you rushed back to the farm, looking high and low for Big Mac, wanting to speak with him alone.
>You find him quick enough, bucking trees as usual.
"Hey, how are you?"
>"I'm fine," he says gruffly, heaving a basket of apples up.
"So, about -"
>He grunts loudly, clearing his throat.
>"Why don't you get to work? We have alotta apples to harvest."
>You're frozen in place for a second, unsure how to react.

"Are we okay? Is something up?"
>He looks at you from the corner of his eye.
>"Everything is fine. Could ya focus on doing what I'm paying you for?"
>You don't respond, picking up an empty basket.
>Finding a nice little group of trees is easy, but by the time you find one you're far away from Big Mac.
>Thankfully, from your position you couldn't see him.
>Right now, you didn't want to.
>You smile to yourself uncomfortably, that's the first time you'd prefer not to see him.
>Obviously, something is up.
>And he isn't going to tell you anytime soon.
>Your blood runs cold, and you drop an apple.
>What if Applejack knows?
>With a shaky hand you pick the apple back up, dust it off and toss it in the basket.
>No way she could know.
>She would have freaked out last night.
>You gulp hard.
>Just the thought of the slim chance of her knowing has you in nervous shivers.
>Oh, maybe Big Mac is nervous too, and this is just his way of dealing with it?
>Or maybe he's trying to throw her off by acting all hostile with you.
>Yeah, that's it...

>As hard as it is you manage to push all the speculation out of your mind and focus on your work for the better part of the day.
>Quitting time comes around faster than you realize, Applejack moseying over from her spot a while away from yours.
>She smirks knowingly at you.
>"Don't be so glum, Anonymous. It's Friday."
>You nod nervously and mumble some sort of goodbye, get away from her as fast as possible.
>Yeah, she fucking knows.
>Probably.

>Walking home gives you some time to think about the recent events, and their possible repercussions.
>"Oh! Hiya Anonymous!"
>A tumbling bundle of fun knocks into you from behind.
>You regain your composure quickly, hopping back.
>Pinkie Pie smiles up at you, her messy hair bouncing around as she nods her head.
"Hey, what's up?"
>"It's Friday!"
"Yeah, okay?"
>"You know what that means."
>Oh god, no.
>"Party!"
>You have no interest in going to any party or festivity, you just want to go home, lie down and wallow.
"Eh, I dunno Pinks. I'm pretty worn out from working at the farm," you claim whilst rubbing your neck.
>"Oh Nonsensennony, you're never too tired for some fun!"
"Really, Pinkie, I think I'm just going to lie down. Why don't you get Twilight, or Rainbow Dash? They're always up for some fun."
>"But they aren't tall."
>Before you can consider what she said you're whipped around again, being pulled down the street by a energetic Pinkie.
>You put up little resistance, figuring it best to just go with the flow, if only to forget Big Mac for the night.
>The pink ball of energy pulls you across town without skipping a beat.
>Pinkie takes you all the way to the tavern on the edge of town.
>"Here, here is were I have all my 'It's Friday' parties."
"The movie theater let's you have parties here?"
>"No, usually I just round up a whole buncha ponies and we just go see a flick together. No balloons or streamers or anything. But now I've got you, so we don't need anyp0ny else."
"I'm almost certain that you're making no sense."
>"Don't be silly, of course I'm making sense."
>She gasps loudly and points to a poster in a window.
>"Destructapony comes out today! We have to go see it!"


>The loud munching of popcorn coming from beside you makes "Destructapony" completely joyless.
>You don't care much for those action flicks anyway.
>At least Pinkie is enjoying herself.
>...
>Maybe she could help you with your dilemma.
>Yeah, you could bounce some ideas off her.
>She could help you talk this out.
>You can imagine it now, Pinkie poking around AJ seeing what's what.
>Spending more /time/ with Big Mac would be easier with someone watching your back!
>Then again, she isn't really known for being able to keep her mouth shut.
>The thought of being "exposed" sends a shiver down your spine.
>The flashing lights on the walls of the theater play out the false smiles, the hushed conversations and the sideways glances that would come with that secret becoming not so secret.
>Sure, they'll say nothing to your face, but all the mares and all the stallions you once called friends wouldn't be able to look at you the same.
>When Pinkie leads the march up and out of the cinema you teeter behind, your stomach twisted up in knots of concern and worry.
>It Applejack knows she could make life really rough for you.
>That mare can't hold her tongue if someone were to question her directly.
>Element of honesty and all that bullshit.
>A sliver of anger invades your worried mind, seeping in like ice in the crack of a silent rock.
>You have to get this under wraps; the stakes are too high.
>"Did you have a good time?" Pinkie asks, snapping you out of your intense thought.
"Yeah, that was great. Remember when that thing blew up that other thing?" you reply in the most excited voice you can muster.
>"That was my favorite part! We should do this again next Friday."
>An idea pops into your head.
>It's probably cruel, yes, but she'll provide the perfect cover.
>If you play your cards right...
"Why wait, how about we do something tomorrow?"

>Looking into the mirror you take a moment to examine yourself.
>You're dressed plainly.
>That isn't what you focus on though.
>You see your deception, lurking over you, like a beast who stands over its prey, posed for the final kill but taking a moment to relish the situation.
>With tired eyes you back away, exiting the room, the house and walking down the street.
>You're to meet Pinkie Pie in the park.
>She would bring lunch and you'd share a meal somewhere quiet.
>Praying she realizes your "motives" only makes your guilt worse.
>Perhaps it would be better if she remained ignorant, if she were to stay out of this thing.
>But if she does you'd have to face the whole town's persecution without any defense.
>You can see it now: all your friends smiling to your face only to talk in hushed tones about your awkward state behind your back.
>A wave of paranoia sweeps through you.
>AJ might know.
>Good chance she did, you think, as you've thought for the past three days.
>If she knows you're screwed.
>Then again, surely she would realize the backlash it would bring down on her brother.
>You stop in the road, near a shop.
>What if there is no backlash?
>Huh.
>No, ponies are nice, but they still talk, they're still curious and they'll still judge
>Even if the judgement is silent.
>Grunting and kicking your feet you start off again
>If only getting Mac was easy.
>If only this would all be so easy.
>You still hold the vague and softly scuffed hope that he shared in your attraction.
>To reassure yourself you'd always say "If he didn't want to, why did he?"
>But doubt comes with its retorts, "Experimentation, curiosity, naivete."
>Curious ponies.
>Your feet carry you to the park without much thought.
>You're far too concerned with the ifs, ands and buts of your dilemma to evaluate the scenery.
>But you must admit, the weakening warmth of the noon's sun provides some comfort to your sagging shoulders, that you take notice of.

>Pinkie's reclining on a park bench near the fountain with a little wicker basket when you find her.
>She smiles upon seeing you and waves you over.
>When you get close she jumps up for a welcoming hug and offers you a seat.
>"Nice day, right?"
"Yeah, sure is. How's it going, Pinks?"
>"Great, oh look, I brought the food."
"Cool, what are we eating?"
>"Mostly little cakes and things. I made them all myself."
"Oh really? Can't wait. Let's go find a nice grassy spot and settle down."
>You take the basket and blanket under it for her, allowing her to take the lead.
>She takes you down the left path, deeper and deeper into park ground, into the open area just at the edge of a tiny cluster of trees.
>With her mouth she snatches the plaid blanket and spreads it out in one swift movement.
>She then also takes the basket, unpacks both plates and food, takes a seat and then pulls you down.
>You fall beside her and find yourself cross-legged in front of a plate chocked full with a piece of cake and tons of other small treats.
"How did- Ah never mind. You picked a good spot."
>"Thank you," she closes her eyes a moment and smiles, as some do.
>The conversation halts as both of you indulge in the sweets.
>The cake is fat too saccharine for your tastes, but you say nothing.
>"...So, how's things down at the farm? I bet you'll be looking for new work soon?"
"Huh?"
>"Winter is right around the corner. The Apples never keep help over the colder months."
"Oh."
>You're voice becomes incredibly light but strained.
"I had forgotten about that."
>"Heh, silly. Maybe I you can come work at Sugar Cube Corner with me?"
>Her voice holds such unbridled glee it's almost off putting.
>You can't respond, not when you're frozen in fear of the winter months, and what they'll bring.
>Snow and cozy nights by the fireplace are all well and good but...Isn't it obvious?
"That sounds like a good idea."
>You don't put much thought into your words, and hardly realize what you're saying.

>"Great! It's going to be so much fun, we'll get to spend so much time together. Baking, catering, arranging parties for colts and fillies, young and old!"
>You mumble through the rest of the date, trying to get out of it.
>Pinkie doesn't notice at all, going off on some tangent about the subtleties of baking.
>She gladly lets you go early.
>You trip your way over to the farm, hoping to find Big Mac.
>A talk was in-order.
>The second you cross that gate, you stop dead in your tracks.
>A chill rolls up your spine, curling the vertebra.
>"Howdy Anon," AJ says.
>You stand still as she sidles over from your flank.
>"You here to see Mac?"
"Y-yeah."
>"You too having a bit of a lover's spat?" she grins at you, harmlessly.
>Or is she toying with you?
>Gotta tread carefully, you don't wanna accuse anyone.
>That could lead to something messy with Mac.
"What do you mean?" you say softly.
>"He's been a little upset lately, figured you'd know about it."
>Oh my.
>Is he having doubts?
>Is he scared?
>Does he miss you?
"Is he around?"
>"Yeah, by that little shed. You know the one, right?"
>She knows.
>Your heart sinks, she's playing with you!
"Right, I'll see you around," you reply calmly.

>You hurry over to the shed, spotting a big red stallion carrying hay bales in.
"Big Mac!"
>He turns and nods at you, remaining silent.
>The air is a bit chilly now.
>"What are you doing here?" he says, neutrally.
>At least, you hope it's neutral.
"I came to visit you."
>He picks up a bale, looks at you, and then carries it out.
>"That's nice of you," his tone dropping into annoyance.
"So, you up to anything later today or maybe tomorrow?"
>"Gotta finish up the harvest, and wrap things up for the winter."
"No free time at all?"
>Your wall of optimism is showing cracks.
>"Not this weekend, no."
"Maybe next week?"
>"Maybe."
>He finishes his work and slams the door, back turned to you.
>You eye his mane for a few seconds.
>"Is there something else ya need?"
>You could ask if he needed help, but you don't want risk it.
>He's not in the mood.
"Uh, no. I guess I should leave you to your work, yeah?"
>"Yeah."
>You say your goodbyes and scurry home.
>Getting to sleep is hard that night.

>You wake up to the sound of rapid knocking at your door.
>Groggily you glance up at the window, so bright outside.
>Why are you on the couch?
>Oh right, you fell asleep on it, reading some book.
>Must be like noon or something...
"Who is it?" you call out, slipping on the jeans tossed on the floor.
>"It's Pinkie!"
"Gimmie a sec."
>What the hell is Pinkie doing here?
>You dress and wash your face a little before answering the door.
>There is the little pink gumball herself, jumping up and down with a smile so big.
"Hey there," you squint, the sun a bit too much for you.
>"Hi! You won't believe it, guess what."
"Uh, you finally got your own exercise ball?"
>"No silly! The Cakes gave me the keys to the shop so I can show you around a bit."
>Oh.
>It's a bit early for that...
"Cool, so uh, we leaving now?"
>"Soon as your ready," she says with glee.
>You ask for a few minutes to prepare, brushing your teeth, the works.
>Fresh and new, but not too excited, you follow Pinkie to the shops.
>"Do you have any baking experience?"
"A little, you know, nothing big."
>"Don't worry, I'll teach you everything you need to know."
>She stops dead in her tracks.
>"We could start today!" she exclaims.
"Sounds alright. What's the harm?"
>She leads you down the block, around a few corners and finally to Sugar Cube Corner.
>You've been here a load of times, great food.
>Pinkie unlocks the door to the dark shop.
>Hopefully a pony doesn't wander in, thinking it's open.
>"So this is the place! You know about the front of course, but have you seen the back before?" her voice rising up, filling with joy.
"No, I haven't," you reply, following her to the fabled "back of the store."

>"And this is the blender, for special shakes and other requests."
"Impressive, and you do most of the cooking now?"
>"Yeah, mostly, Mr. Cake takes off a lot to take care of the twins. But he comes by sometimes."
"So you got a lot of responsibility."
>Leaning on the counter you nearly knock over a bag of flour.
>You're pretty disinterested in this whole shop, but you're gonna have to work here.
>How else are you going to pay the rent?
>"Yep, you've eaten a whole bunch of my cupcakes and cinnamon rolls. You like them, don't you?"
"Of course, why do you think I keep coming back?"
>She pauses for a moment, and then perks up again.
>"Wanna see the register!?" she asks, her eyes lit up with zeal.
>You shrug and follow her to the front.
>It's a bit dark in the front with the lights out, neither of you cared to flick them on.
>Pinkie stalks over to the register.
>Based on the look in her eyes this is a sacred ritual.
>You hang back as she taps in the code and the thing dings open.
>Glancing out the window, your jaw opens in shock.
>"You like it? Pretty neat, huh?" Pinkie says in the background.
>Across the road is Big Mac, standing tall and proud, a cute sheepish smile etched across his face.
>Next to him, laughing, is a little mint-colored mare.
>"Want to touch the...oh, hey look isn't that Big Mac?"
>You nod slowly.
>"Huh, looks like he's got a date with him!"
>Pinkie stands next to you.
>"They're cute together."
>Yeah they are...
>"Wish I had a stallion," she peeps, hardly audible.
>You can feel her looking up at you.
>With apprehension you look down at her, she's smiling.
>With a dry mouth and a shaky hand you reply.
"Wish I had a mare."
>Her face shifts from a bit of fear to absolute joy.
>What have you done?

>The next week passes quickly.
>You don't show up for work, you physically can't bring yourself to do it.
>Your days are spent worrying and moping, and your nights with Pinkie.
>She has grown attached to you so quickly.
>When she curls up along side you on the couch for a film, just by looking down at her you can tell she will shatter like a glass dove the moment you drop her.
>What are you to do?
>Big Mac seems to be in a relationship with a mare.
>You can't confirm it in fear of getting the cold shoulder, but you know it's very likely.
>A stalemate has been made.
>You and Big Mac locked in a struggle.
>Listen to yourself.
>A struggle? Pfft.
>Who are you kidding?
>He probably doesn't really care too much.
>He probably just wants you out of the way.
>It's for the best, isn't it?
>No, you can't just give up on him.
>What if he's just using that mare as a 'cover', like you're doing with Pinkie?
>Yeah, that's it.
>Either way, you've got to talk to him.
>Hmm.
>Perhaps you can try to "bump" into him on the street.
>But then you'd be stalking him.

>The sun has set awhile ago and your home is dark now.
>You've been reading and being lazy today, without work to keep you occupied you've been pretty restless.
>And yet you've been staying in doors, stagnating.
>A week of Pinkie Pie has made you sick to your stomach.
>She's a nice girl, but being with her doesn't make you feel good.
>She just can't excite you the way he does.
>A knock comes at the door.
>Your heart soars up in fear, thinking it's Pinkie again.
>But you quickly realize it's not her usual rapid fire-knocking and jumping routine.
>This was just a quick knock-knock.
>Tentatively you creep to the door.
>Peeking out the window I spot a red stallion, Big Mac.
>Your heart-rate speeds up, breathing becoming labored.
>Zipping over to the door you undo the locks and open it.
>It catches on a shoe that you left lying around.
>Your face goes red as you try and try again to pull the door toward you, Mac staring at you through the little gap.
>After about the fifth try Mac sticks his hoof in and smacks the shoe aside.
>The blushing on your face triples, idiot!
>How could you be so dumb?
"Big Mac, come in, come in. What's up, do you need something?"
>Talking too much.
>You wave Mac in and he settles himself on the couch.
>After closing the door you immediately go about the room like a whirlwind, picking up and cleaning as much as quick as possible.
>Big Mac says nothing, just watching you as you go about the room, his eyes boring into you.
"W-would you like a drink?"

>He nods his head no and looks down, away from you.
"So uh, what brings you here?"
>He sighs, shaking his head again.
>"I came here to come clean about a few things."
>You take a deep breath and shakily take a seat on your coffee table.
>Big Mac taps his hooves together once or twice.
>"I don't think we should see each other anymore. In /any/ capacity."
>You heart sinks, and then feels like its just been harshly ripped out.
>Mouth agape, unable to form words, you just make a hand motion at him.
>What is happening?
>Why can't you talk?
>Why is he doing this to you?
>"What we...did, ya know, that night. That was a one time thing. It was a bad decision, a one time thing."
>He's keeping his eyes off you, favoring to look at the room around him.
>"I've got something else going on, with a mare, you might know her..."
"I, I know. I saw you two together."
>"Alright, I'm sorry. I think it's for the best if you don't come back to work at the farm either. I here from AJ that you've gotten a job with Pinkie or something, so."
>So?

>You can turn this around.
>Maybe you can show him that it can work out?
"But wait, why does it have to be like this? We're close? Maybe we can have something. Maybe we can just keep it a secret."
>He shakes his head.
>"I like what I've got Anon. I'm sorry. You're a good friend but it's time we part ways."
>He tries to stand, get off the couch.
>You're quicker though, pressing your hand to his chest and pushing him back down.
>Thinking back, you recall what started this all and dive in to kiss him.
>Heart pumping, eyes closed and lips trembling you press against him, becoming enveloped in his warmth.
>At first he tenses up, hooves trying meekly to push you away.
>But after a few seconds he just embraces it, allowing you to get on top of him.
>Soaring on the high of success you smile weakly, recovering from the shock of his rejection /and/ his acceptance.
>You've just been on a bit of a roller coaster.
>"Anon, this ain't right," he looks away from you, hooves pressing against you, but there is no force behind them.
"Who says it isn't right? I think it's right. I think it's the only right thing there is."
>Big Mac gives you a really deep look.
>He stares at you for a time, thinking it through.
>You try to urge him on with just your eyes, staying silent, but breathing heavily.
>This could really work.
>No one would ask questions if Big Mac were to drop Lyra, and spend some time with his close friend on the weekends.
>Right here at your place!
>No AJ, no anyone.
>Just you and him.
>Maybe...
>Maybe sometime he can room with you.
>Roommates, yeah.
>He sighs and looks down.
>You press against him again, hugging him close.

>The next morning you wake up tired and groggy, but happy knowing Big Mac is right next to you.
>What a night, you think, staying on your side.
>You keep eyes closed, for a moment, enjoying the post-wakeup haze.
>This could really work, you and him.
>Yawning you turn around, hoping you catch Big Mac in an embrace.
>Reaching out your arms you find nothing but cold sheets.
>Oh, he must be down stairs or something.
>Rising out of bed you make your way to the kitchen in just your boxers.
>For some reason you have the strong need to just hold him, to make sure he's there.
>You don't think he'll mind either.
>Happily you walk into the kitchen.
>Empty.
"Mac?" You call, searching the empty living room.
>Bathroom is open and empty...
>Every room in the house, empty.
>You take a seat in the kitchen, smile gone and body suddenly tired.
>The rest of your day is spent at the table.

>The next day you blow off your date with Pinkie Pie.
>You take a trip of sorts, just a little ways away from the busy parts of town.
>You feel a sinking, whirling pit in your stomach as you walk around.
>Ditching Pinkie without telling her, dick move.
>Sleeping with a colt behind her back, dick move.
>It's time to break it off, while it's still early, while you can still catch it.
>Like a virus or something.
>Get it before it grows, before it becomes more painful for everyone involved.
>Damn, did you just compare your "marefriend" to a virus?
>Settling things with Pinkie is the main problem, right?
>Never mind that bastard Big Mac, fucking you and just ditching you.
>What a di—
>Gah, you're just as bad as him, in a way.
>The road begins to taper, and you're getting near the edge of town.
>The streets are lonelier, and the buildings sparser.
>You sort of just collapse onto a bench.
>Where are you?
>What time is it?
>It's starting to get cloudy and cold.
>Ponyville always has such dreadful fall rains.
>Oh god, it's damn near fall.
>The trees are beginning to shed their leaves.

>No, you can't focus on something so trivial right now.
>You have to fix the problem at hand, what to do about Big Mac.
>You shouldn't, really, you shouldn't be so upset.
>So what? He isn't into you.
>Or maybe he is.
>No, no he isn't.
>He has pushed you away a couple times.
>Reluctance was all you could see in his eyes that night.
>But you wanted it so much that you ignored it.
>Sometimes people feel things, and they don't want to let go of those things.
>Not for anyone else or anything else.
>Yeah!
>You can make it work, you need to!
>It was meant to be.
>Geh, that sounds creepy, doesn't it?
>Rubbing your eyes you try your darnedest to clear your head.
>Now it's sort of out there, that idea, stuck to the back of your head.
>Not just a vague feeling toward Big Mac, it's gestated into something bigger.
>You can't look away, or "think away" from it.
>Pinned there, piercing and real.
>Why must things be so difficult?
>Why him?
>For a moment your mind tinkers with the idea of packing up and leaving the place.
>But you feel like you're part-glued here.
>You have a few friends here, and you are still in a budding relationship with Pinkie Pie.
>And of course, that big blaring thing you won't mention, but can still feel lurking in you.
>It's funny, when you try to visualize these sorts of lovey-dovey things in your head.
>It's corny, of course, but for that split second when you trip and fall into the fantasy it's so real — it's the only thing real around.
>Just for that second.
>Then you're left drenched in the after-feel of the fantasy, like diving in a pool and sloshing out.
>You drip, drip, drip, splattering your daily life with that feeling, you get it all over your friends and that special person who ignited that flame in the first place.
>Bringing it into your reality.
>It's silly yes, but it's real.
>To you, at least.

>The sun begins to set, you notice.
>Have you spent the whole day just outside?
>You don't even remember eating, bah, you're not hungry anyway.
>Feeling burdened, almost like wearing wet clothes, you march back home.
>Still nowhere closer to finding a way out of this hole you dug.
>Your mind wanders again, and when you catch yourself, head hung low, idly near a building, you look up expecting to have just auto-piloted home.
>But you're on a dirt path?
>Oh no, the farm.
>"Howdy An-on!" You hear a familiar voice call, and the sound of hooves trotting a pace or two faster.
>"Where ya been? Heard Pinkie was lookin' for you all day."
>You turn to face her, swallowing harshly.
>One of those swallows you do wrong, and it hurts, feels like a whole apple just lodged itself in your damn throat.
>You cough a bit, both to ease the discomfort and buy a couple seconds.
>"You alright?"
"Y-yeah, AJ, thanks, I am fine."
>She gives you a piercing look, "so, where have ya been?"
"Uh, around town, just taking a walk."
>"Really now," she paces forward, looking upset.
"Yeah, geez, I hope Pinkie isn't too upset."
>Lie = told.
>"Guess it jus' slipped your mind, huh?"
"Heh, yeah," you avert your eyes and rub your neck nervously.
>Such a tell.
>"So, I was talking to Big Mac a lil yesterday."
>Your blood runs cold, and you keep your eyes off her, staring at this piece of grass in the dirt.
>Just one strand, all alone.
>"You guys had a lil boys night at yer place not too long ago?"
"O-oh yeah, yeah uh I think so. Heh, how is Big Mac doing?"
>"He's swell," she says cuttingly.
"Is he around?" You ask softly.
>Damn it.
>It just sort of slipped out.

>"Yes, busy workin' in the barn I reckon."
"Oh maybe I'll go pay him a visit," you say hastily, turning from her.
>"Sure sure, bet he'd love that," she says, something in the tone of her voice gives her discomfort away.
>Discomfort and something else.
>You can't pin it, but it isn't good.
>"I had a sneaking...suspicion, that somethin' strange was up with you two couple weeks back. Th' night we had that big rain storm I think..."
>You turn back and look at her, and she looks up at you with a death stare.
>"And then I hear from Mac that you and him had an "evening" together. Well that just confirmed it."
"Oh no, AJ, listen—"
>"Don't get so defensive, Anon. Let me finish. He gave something "new" a try and didn't like it. He told me how he really felt. He was confused. And he's a soft colt, doesn't know when to tell people no, doesn't know when to tell them the hard truth. But the truth is he doesn't want you, Anon. The sooner you accept that the better."
"What are you saying?" Just pops out of your mouth.
>You understand it, your own suspicions confirmed.
>You just need a moment, to let that soak in with everything else.
>"I'm sayin' what I'm sayin' Anon," she says a little harshly, "I'm looking out for my brother here, and it's better for both of you if ya just move on. No more silly experimenting, alright?"
"W-well what's wrong with it?" You say sort of loudly, feeling personally attacked.
>How are you suppose to react now?
>You just feel sort of reddish, like when you feel off sunburned skin to reveal that fresh new layer.
>Clean and weak and unburdened maybe.
>But also wounded.
>"He ain't interested, Anon."
"Let me hear that from him, personally."
>She grunts, and steps in your way when you make for the barn not too far away.
>"Just don't let yer emotions get the best of ya. Big Mac never meant to hurt you," she says, slipping out of the way.