When he gets me home, I invite him inside. He accepts, though understands I don’t have much food to offer. We don’t eat anything anyway.

He insists on holding an audition, though it turned out to be more of a lesson. I hadn’t sung since high school. Well, since that walk with Pearl. Though I hadn’t sung seriously since high school. The memories brought back were mostly comfortable, but I only wanted to make new ones right now.

Anyway, he swears up and down that I have the makings of greatness. He tests my range, which to my surprise happened to be pretty high. I managed to hit the high note of his first solo from the play, full-voice, which is a B5 if that means anything to you. After I barely hold that note for 3 seconds, my next-door neighbor knocks on the wall and demands I quiet down. I apologize. She’s not a mean pony.

He tells me I should work on my singing, but I tell him I don’t have a lot of free time.

“I work four, sometimes five days a week, until noon. Right after that I have a little time to myself and I usually like to write.” I was actually really interested in learning how to sing again. It would be a fun hobby, and I’d get to spend time with him. Even if we never started dating.

“Well,” he thought for a moment. “You’re free most weekends, right?”

“I guess,” I admit. “Though, Pearl and the others usually like to hang out during days off.”

“Pearl, huh?” He smirks.

I chortle and give him a playful shove. I’m truly happy to have a new friend to sit on my floor and make jokes with. “She’s my best friend,” I ignore his frown. “I met her a few years ago, visiting the city with my family. When I moved out she helped me get a job. Stitches and Patches are just friends. We all work at the café.”

“They all sound delightful.” I was not expecting such a comment, and I thought I made a funny reaction but he didn’t notice. Or at least didn’t mention it. “I’d actually like to meet them.”

I feel like I’m blushing again. Would he like them? Would they like him? (Oh stop that, they’ll all love each other. It’s gonna be great.) “Actually, they’re coming here tomorrow.” I couldn’t exactly remember, but I think that’s the plan Pearl made with me. They should all be out shopping right about now. “My birthday was a little while ago, and they wanted to get me presents, I guess. They didn’t get me any that day, so Pearl felt like making up for it.”

“They really sound great,” he compliments again. “You want me to come? I could bring a gift.”

I smile, “That’s nice of you, but you don’t need to. I’m sure they’ll get me plenty.”

“Well, I do want to meet them.”

“And they’re, like, really… uhh, real, I guess. At least, the girls can have a pretty mature sense of humor.”

“Oh is that what you’re worried about? Please. You might not have noticed, but I’m not exactly innocent.”

“As a matter of fact, I haven’t noticed.” He’s blushing, embarrassed. I know he wants to tell me. Eventually, if not now. I feel like giving him an ultimatum. He might like that. “You gonna tell me now, or at lunch on Monday?”

He laughs, which is good. “Well…” He’s really contemplating this, hard. I really do think he’ll tell me now, though. Based on that blush, it doesn’t seem like something he would want to share in public. “Uhh…” Wait no… “Oh boy.” Oh God.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me,” I insist. “I was just teasing.”

“No. Really, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I… guess I can’t expect you to understand. Just don’t laugh at me, please?” I give him a friendly nod. He takes a deep breath. Then, “Back during college, I had these… expenses. The school I went to wasn’t particularly cheap, and living away from home for the first time I didn’t know a whole lot. One of my friends—who was by no means a good pony—told me about a job opening he thought I’d fill well. It was at a place called Candor Colt.” My eyes widen. He doesn’t notice. “It was a…”

“Strip club?” I finish for him. Gay bar, whatever. Though that’s not all.

He nods, and I stifle a laugh. “Hey you promised,” he accuses.

“No,” I breathe. “It’s not you. It’s just… I told you my birthday was a while ago?” He nods, not following. “And I mentioned my friends’ sense of humor?” He’s blushing, turning his blue cheeks bright purple. “They took me to that club.”

His face is as bright as mine felt earlier. He lies down and covers his face, the same way I did only he’s smiling. I laugh out loud, knowing it’s fine. “I haven’t worked there for three years, so if you think you saw me—“

“No, no… I just think that’s funny.” I laugh a little more, he laughs some too. “What kind of friend recommends a gay strip club?”

He gasps in respite from the laughter. “Did I say he was a friend?” When I nod, he says, “Well I really only meant roommate.” He laughs pretty hard again. “He was not, in the least bit secretive about his feelings.” We laugh. I ignore the feeling the comment gave me, like he was comparing me. I knew he didn’t mean it, so I knew it didn’t matter. When the laughing dies down he rests his head on the floor. I do the same, but we have some distance. He has his eyes closed, exhausted. “I like you. You’re honest, but not at all aggressive like he was.” He’s still talking about his roommate.

I smile and close my eyes too. He sounds really tired. I’m not but I mimic his tone playfully. “Stop, you’ll get my hopes up again.”

“Oh, sorry,” he says sarcastically.

“I forgive you.” Suddenly I yawn. I had no idea how tired I was. My face relaxed and my smile dropped. I could have fallen asleep right there. That wasn’t right. I straighten my neck and take a deep breath. His eyes open, startled. He was about to fall asleep too.

“Well,” he begins. “I don’t want to take up your night.”

I grin, feeling like teasing him some more. “Aww. Are you leaving?” I climb onto my bed.

He nods, rubs his eyes. “My sister will worry about me.”

“What if I break down again?” I roll on my side, semi-seductively. “I could use somepony to cuddle me some more.”

He smiles, only like he gets the joke though. He’s not playing along at all, which is good. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Sleep is a good cure, plus that heavy dose of laughter.”

I smile, tired. “Well, all right. I think the party starts around eleven tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here.”

“Oh and if you change your mind on your way home…” I give him another flirty glance and rub the empty space on my bed. I’m not serious in the least, and I can only hope he gets that.

He puts his hat on and smiles. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

After he left I thought I might just fall asleep: It was late, and I didn’t have to work in the morning. Then I remembered I had a lot to write down. I hope I didn’t miss any of it. It’s been a long day.