Octavia.

One of the most-known names in

Canterlot City.

Known by many, loved

By more still. Yet, I do not

love all those who do.

My heart is lonely,

My bed lies cold and unfilled,

And my soul aches.

There is another

Name that Canterlot chants.

It's DJ Pon-3.

I've never met her,

Only heard the shouts and cries

Of the late parties.

"Hey, DJ Pon-3

Is doing another show!"

A passerby says,

Their shirt showing her

Face and her stage name on the

Sleeve, bright blues all over.

I do not care for her

'Music', a term that I use

Very, very, very loosely.

***

Perhaps the one

Thing I dislike more than her

Noise are the

Snobby, spoiled,

Uptight, poor excuses of

People that I

Am often forced

To interact with day in

And day out, seven

Days a week, twenty-

Four hours a day. It often

Makes me question

Why I do not drink

Myself blind every night,

Like my father did.

Perhaps tonight I

Will finally change that; I

Believe that I shall.

***

Of all the people,

All the possibilities

That could have happened,

She takes the empty

Stool next to me at the bar.

Why was it her? Why?

"Hey, what's up, dude?!" She

Asks, her voice loud and her words

Tripping out her mouth.

She throws her arm

Around me. I cringe and slink

Out from under her.

I do not feel like

Being bothered by her and

People like her.

I only want to

Drink until the sun climbs

Back over the

Horizon. But, of

Course, she just wants to talk.

Talk and talk and talk.

I put on my best

Plastic smile and turn to

Her, "I don't want to

"Sound rude, but could

you please just leave me alone?"

Celestia, be

Kind this one time.

She looks at me with a

Surprising look of

Sobriety, and

Even behind her glasses,

I can tell she wants

To know why I asked

Her to leave me alone while

I drink my problems

Away like a bad

Memory. She lowers her

Glasses and then I

See her eyes. Never

Had I seen anything like

Those orbs of pure

Crimson, so deep and

Mesmerizing that she had

To wave her hand at

My face to get my

Attention back. "Hey. Why don't you

Talk to someone?" She

Asks, smiling a

Smile that makes me catch

My breath in my throat.

Everything she

Does or says is simply

Beautiful to

Me. For some reason, I

Decide that maybe I should

Judge a book by

Its cover and talk

To this DJ Pon-3.

It could be the booze

Already in me

That opens my mouth and makes

Words flow from it and

Tears streak down my

Face, or the years and years of

Loneliness that cause

Me to open up.

Be it one or the other,

I could care less.

Once she hears my sad

Tale, she is determined to,

"Help me have the best

"Night I have ever had!"

Little did she know that by

Meeting her, I

Already had.