It's all her fault

"Great and powerful" Trixie said aloud, looking at her face in the mirror. She sat in front of her vanity in her bedroom in her small caravan.

"What a joke." She finished. before looking away from her reflection. She stood up and walked over to her bed before plopping onto it. On her bedside table were a few bottles of pills; sleeping pills, pain killers, narcotics. Trixie opened the bottles and shook a few into her hoof. She popped them into her mouth before grabbing her glass of water and drinking it down along with the pills. She put the empty glass back on the bedside table along with the pill bottles and laid her head on her pillow.

"Tomorrow will be better." A saying she had been telling herself every night for the past couple months. Trixie always tried to believe it, but it was never true. She was stuck, after the incident with Twilight in Ponyville, Trixie was unable to preform anywhere else, she could not make any money from any of the towns she stopped in. Eventually her cart broke and she did not have the money to feed herself, much less fix the cart. She had been stranded in this city, Manehattan, for three weeks now.

Trixie had to take up any work she could just to eat. First it was odd jobs, but those soon dried up. Once again in a dire situation, Trixie was forced to look for any work she could just to survive. The only job she could find was to be a dancer for a local "gentlecolts club". At first, Trixie resented even the idea of taking such a degrading job. Although, after 3 days of going hungry the job started looking more appealing.

"I hate stripping..." Trixie said to herself, staring at her ceiling as she thought about the time she had spent as a dancer. Even thought it was a "Gentlecolt's club" the patrons were anything but, always hooting and hollering. Being overall rude to not only her, but her fellow dancers as well. Some of them had even  slapped Trixie's plot while she was on stage.

"I hate those men..." Trixie continued, her brow starting to furrow and her voice became more heated. She began to feel the haze of the drugs she had taken affect her, clouding her mind and warming her body. Trying to pull her into unconsciousness.

"And I HATE Twilight Sparkle!" She shouted, her anger overcoming the comfort her pills had given her. She gritted her teeth and grabbed her pillow, hugging it close to her body with her fore hooves. Trixie rolled onto her right side and brought her hind legs in closer to her body, encasing the pillow. She squeezed it tightly.

"It's not fair!" She cried out. Her anger and hate for Twilight sinking into depression and despair. "If she had just left me alone none of this would have happened! She ruined my life! It's her fault! All of it! Her fault!" She began to sob into her pillow.

~

Trixie awoke in the morning to find herself sprawled on her back with her pill to her right covering her right fore hoof. The medications had done either job, knocking Trixie out. Trixie remembered she had cried herself to sleep last night, the proof was in the tear stains on her pillow.

Trixie sighed. She had to work today. She had to force herself to get up and get ready to go back to that disgusting building full of rude, horny colts that did nothing but ogle her plot.

“I really hate them...” She said with a huff before heading to her bathroom to take a shower. Even her shower held bad memories for the blue mare. Showering always made her remember the first night she had danced, and how filthy she felt afterwards. She had come straight home and scrubbed herself, but you can't wash away shame.

After she was relatively clean, Trixie put her dancer garb in a bag and ate a meager breakfast of oats. Trixie looked at the clock. Thirty minutes before her shift starts. She sighed and headed out the door. She walked down the street with her head down, darting her eyes back and forth, feeling like everypony was judging her. She arrived at the club and quickly snuck around back to not be seen entering the building.

This day's shift was especially bad, one colt wanted a lap dance and not only kept slapping Trixie's plot,
but kept trying to feel her up; which is clearly against the rules.  After her long shift, Trixie left with that day's earning. She had to admit the pay wasn't BAD. But it wasn't as much as when she traveled around preforming, and it was a much worse way to get it.

Trixie put back 10 bits, the same as everyday, into a bag, saving up for the cart repair and something else extra special.  She took the rest of her money and bought some food for the next day. Once that was done, she had some excess, around 20 bits.

“I need a drink.” She said looking at the coins. Trixie once again left her caravan, the sky was now dark, and the stars twinkled. She walked down the road to where she knew a good, quiet bar was. She opened the door and was instantly assaulted with the smell of hard alcohol. This was one of the few things that actually made Trixie smile these days. She walked up the bar and sat at a stool.

“What can I get ya?” The bartender said, turning around while wiping a mug with a hand towel.

“Long island ice tea?” Trixie asked.

“Sure.” the bartender said before turning around to grab the bottles. Within a minute Trixie had a tall glass in front of her filled with a cocktail of alcoholic beverages. She smiled and greedily sucked down the liquid, quickly emptying the glass.

“Another.” She ordered. The alcohol was taking it's toll on Trixie's head. Before she knew it, she had drank four glasses and could barely stand. The rest of the night was blur.