Starlight and Anon decided to each go their own way after breakfast the next morning. Anonymous said he was going to find his ex. Starlight offered to go with him, but the human insisted he go alone. Starlight agreed, though she didn’t like it. She wanted him to trust her, but he didn't, at least not enough.

Starlight decided to talk with Ms. Chloride again, or Salt Water as she was calling herself. She told Anon he could find her in Potions, Poultices, and Tonics if he needed her. Anon agreed while scribbling in that little black book of his. He went stiff when Starlight nuzzled his cheek and wished him luck. It was a little cute.

The air was crisp that morning. Unusual for midyear, but welcome. Starlight took her time going to Ms. Chloride’s shop. She was clueless as to how she would get a serviceable reaction from her old acquaintance. But when she reached the shop’s street, a correct apology became a tertiary concern.

A group of disgruntled ponies were queued outside the door. Starlight approached and peeked through the shop window. The inside was dark. When she tried the door, she found it locked.

“You can’t see it’s closed, young filly?” the stallion at the line’s head, caramel colored and wearing a derby hat, said.

Starlight studied the hours sign in the windowpane. “But it says the shop should be open now. It’s not like Ms. Chloride to miss a day.”

The stallion chortled. “This shop’s been open when it feels like for moons now. Just get in line and give it time, it’ll open.”

Starlight backed from the entrance and scanned the line. Most of the ponies waiting for the shop to open were older, and few looked content. Starlight followed the queue to its end and stood behind a scarved, yellow mare who smelled of moth balls and rubbing alcohol. Beside the line’s rear was an alleyway. At first, Starlight paid it little attention, but the hushed tone of a familiar voice caught her ear.

“… Tomorrow, t-too. I will p-pay in advance for next week’s deliveries then.”

Starlight looked at the line again. Nopony seemed to notice. She slipped into the alleyway, a narrow corridor that split three ways, and peeked around the corner. Salt Water was standing in front of an open cellar door behind her shop, speaking with a large, rust-colored earth pony stallion as he hoisted a pink-striped jug of water onto a cart packed with more of the same.

“Course, ma’am. If orders keep rising, I’ll need me a second trolley” the stallion said and guffawed. He tipped his cap to Salt Water, hitched himself, and exited the alley through the corridor perpendicular to Starlight.

Salt Water marked something on a clipboard and entered the cellar.

Starlight looked over her shoulder, then approached the still open doors. “Hello?” she called into the darkness, but was met with a dull, mechanical hum. She checked her surroundings again—the alleyway was empty, save a few pigeons cooing from a fire escape—and descended the stairs.

The stairway was basted in a peculiar smell, like formaldehyde mixed with mouth wash and set aflame. At the bottom of the staircase, the path twisted left, and around the corner Starlight saw a dim light. The hum was louder now, and with it was a light bubbling sound, like percolating coffee. Starlight finished her descent and peeked around the corner. She saw tubes full of blue-tinted liquid wrapped around metal bars that glowed dull red, as though channeling a good deal of heat. These tubes originated from large, swirling vats, themselves fed by suspended flasks. They steady-dripped into a tub, on the end of which glinted a notched, silver nozzle.

Starlight didn’t see Salt Water, but there was another room beyond, from which she heard a suction sound, like the steady, repeated compression of a large plunger. She crept through the first room, eyeing the concoction as it fizzled and belched, and peeked into the second. Salt Water was sitting, back to Starlight, at a table covered with documents and devices that seemed to whirr and whirl of their own accord. In the corner was a tank full of the same blue liquid, on each side of which was a piston in operation. The liquid twirled as though being stirred. It fed into a decanter on Salt Water’s desk. Salt Water was staring at a flask between her hooves. She sniffed it, licked the top, then guzzled it like a mare fresh from a week’s stay in the desert.

Starlight approached. “Ms. Chloride?”

Salt Water gagged on her mixture and coughed, then turned to Starlight. “W-what are you doing here?” she said, setting the flask down.

“I came to talk to you, but your shop is closed. What is all of this?” Starlight swept her hoof in an arc, indicating everything she’d seen.

“You s-shouldn’t be here,” Salt Water said. She looked down, then stood. “A-although perhaps this is f-fortuitous.”

Confusion flashed through Starlight and she took a step back. “What do you mean?”

Salt Water approached her. Her pupils were dilated beneath lidded eyes. “Y-your curiosity will be rewarded.” She lifted her hoof and placed it against Starlight’s cheek and looked into her eyes.

Starlight began to channel magic into her horn, but her concentration snapped when Salt Water’s lips pressed to hers. She gasped, all the invitation needed for Salt Water’s tongue to find its way inside her mouth. Starlight tried to pull away, but her head became an aquarium, her senses dulled, and heat spread from her skull, down her spine, beneath her tail. Her legs buckled and she swayed. Starlight felt Salt Water pull away, but found herself leaning forward. She was met with a halting hoof against her body.

“T-tonight. Right now, you need to leave,” Salt Water said.

Starlight nodded, her movements involuntary. The heat she felt surging in her nethers disintegrated what remained of her focus. She turned and left the room, unsure of where she was going.

--

Anon looked at the black booklet in his palm, then at the brick building. “It’s been a while.”

The sign read “Moonglade’s Lounge,” in red cursive, followed by an image of a cocktail and lipstick in the shape of puckered lips. He approached the red, painted wooden door and knocked twice. No response. He knocked twice more, then heard a click. The door cracked open and a single, blue, slit-shaped pupil peered through.

“Eeeee!” echoed from beyond the door and it swung open. A petite, pink bat pony stared up at him, fangs showing through her wide grin.

“Hey, Moonie,” Anon said. “Long time no see.”

“Nonny!” She flapped her wings and bounded onto him and latched her hooves around his neck. “I forgot how tall you were.”

“And I forgot how tiny you were,” Anon said, petting her back.

“I thought for a while you were too good for us,” Moonglade said and poked out her lower lip.

Anon shook his head. “I don’t like staying in one place too long. Can I come in?”

Moonglade nodded and settled her hooves on the ground. “Burning Heart’s going to be so happy to see you.”

“So, she’s still here then,” Anon said, some unconscious hope snuffed.

“Duh. Where else would she go? Come on.” Moonglade led him inside. The door snapped shut behind them and latched. The long entrance hall was a line of thick, velvet curtains. If Anon’s memory was right, they were all soundproofed by enchantment. His nose was bombarded by the musk of sex. The lighting was a rich scarlet, like the lounge was the interior of an exposed heart.

The hall’s end opened into a proper club, a bar opposite a compact stage, the two separated by a small seating area with tables and cushions. A large, white minotaur with a black mane stood behind the bar, cleaning glasses, but the room was otherwise empty. He turned to Anon and slammed his fist on the bar counter.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up like this.” The minotaur stomped to Anon. He stood a full head taller, horns nearly grazing the ceiling, and breathed steam.

Anon stepped back. Tauron was as imposing as ever. “Hey, Tarry…”

“That’s a name only my friends use,” Tauron said, arms folded.

“Right… Sorry, Tauron.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t use it,” Tauron bellowed. He opened his arms and dragged Anon into a crushing hug. “Next time I expect a week’s notice before you’re in town.”

Anon gasped. “Noted,” he said, his pitch somewhere north of falsetto.

“Put Nonny down, Tarry,” Moonglade said. “You know he isn’t here for us. The misfits club reunion can wait until after he sees Burning Heart.” She winked at Anon.

Tauron laughed as he put Anon down, a laugh that shook every glass in the bar. “She’s going to castrate you!” Tauron punched Anon on the shoulder. That shoulder went numb.

“She’s, uh, not here, is she?” Anon said, rubbing his new bruise.

“Are you kidding? She’s always here,” Tauron said. “Just saw her go backstage.”

Anon looked at the curtain. He expected it to fly open, and for a tactical nuke to fire for his forehead. Mercy had it that ponies didn’t use warheads.

“It’s alright, Nonny. She’s way more mellow that she used to be. Besides, for every bone she breaks, I get another bit from Tarry,” Moonglade said. She was way too chipper about his impending demise. Then again, Anon had never known a bat pony to shy away from carnage. They were cuter than kittens, and much more bloodthirsty.

Anon dipped his hands in his pockets. “Guess I should say hi, then.” He took a step, then stopped and turned. “Or maybe I can come back. I’m sure she’s busy, right? Probably lots to do before tonight’s show.”

He felt Tauron’s large hand on his chest. “Don’t be a wimp. Get in there and say hi or I’ll carry you in myself.”

That wasn’t a bluff. Minitours don’t bluff.

Anon righted his course and walked toward the stage. It wasn’t a large stage, but it fit its purpose. It was surrounded by cushions and had two poles in front of a black curtain. His thoughts flashed to Starlight. He wished she were there. But it was better she not be. This part of his past was a secret best kept with those involved.

Anon climbed the short steps onto the stage and slipped past the curtain. There were several tables, each with a mirror and a makeup set, and racks of outfits—from saddles and bridles to lingerie, socks, and panties—to the side. He heard movement beyond the clothes and approached. Stooped over, taught red rear raised, was a unicorn rolling a large pink-striped jug.

“That you, Tauron? Give me a hoof, our delivery’s here,” she said. Her purple tail swished, giving Anon the barest peek of her labia. He did miss those lips, just a little.

“Not Tarry, but I can still help, I guess.”

She paused, ears swiveled, then turned her head. She examined Anon with a look somewhere between curiosity and surprise, then returned to the jug. “Hurry up, then. I’m not supposed to use magic on this stuff.”

Anon lifted the jug. “So… How’s it going?”

“Take it Tauron. He’ll know what to do with it.” Burning Heart turned her attention to organizing the outfits.

Anon adjusted his grip on the jug. He wanted to say something else, but he wasn’t sure what. He turned from her.

“Not bad,” Burning Heart said.

“What?” Anon paused and looked at her.

“You asked how it’s going. Not bad.”

“Oh. Cool.” Anon lingered for a moment longer, then left when it was clear that was all she’d say.

When he passed the curtain, he saw Tauron and Moonglade looking at him from across the room. He walked to the bar and handed Tauron the jug.

“So?” Moonglade said.

Anon rubbed his hand behind his head. “She’s definitely more mellow, I guess.”

“And?” Moonglade was leaning forward.

“She didn’t say much.”

“Get back in there, then,” Tauron said, holding the jug with one arm. “Still got to shove my hoof up your ass to get you moving, don’t I?”

“What am I supposed to say to her?”

“’I’m sorry’ is a good start,” Moonglade said.

“Right. Okay, I’ll try.”

Anon rounded on his heel and went backstage again. Burning Heart was sitting at a table, several records levitating around her head and a quill scratching on a parchment beside a record stack. She looked to him, then pushed one of the records into its sleeve.

“I, uh,” Anon looked at the records, too. “Is that Rara’s 'Snout to Snout'? Remember when we would listen to that together?”

Burning Heart dropped it on the stack. “Not really.”

“Oh. I guess it was a while ago.” Anon sat at a table beside Burning Heart’s. He looked at himself in the mirror. His face was more tired than it should have been that early. He turned to Burning Heart. “I wanted to say... uh… I’m sorry. About leaving without saying anything.”

Burning Heart stopped sorting the records. She sat silent for a moment

“It hurt,” she said.

Anon stayed quiet, all his energy dedicated to steadying his expression.

“We were together for just a few moons, but we got close so fast. I was going to ask you to…” She turned to Anon, rage building in her eyes. “And you just skip town? Do you have any idea how degrading that is? Like I didn’t even matter?” She got to her hooves and set the records on the desk. “And the worst part is you didn’t even say goodbye. I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD.” Her breathing was rough now.

This was familiar; this was the Burning Heart Anon remembered. “Yeah. I guess I just got… I don’t know.”

“And then the next moon I hear you’re partying it up in Manehattan like it’s no big deal! I had to read the news paper to see the kind of company you were keeping.” Burning Heart stomped her hoof. “I was heartbroken. And then I was furious. And now you come back and all you have to say is ‘sorry’?”

Anon hesitated for a moment, then put his hand on her withers and looked in her eyes. “Yeah, it’s not enough. I get it." He swallowed. "It’s all I got though. I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

Burning Heart’s eyes shifted, like she was looking for something in his. She sat down. “Guess I didn’t realize it was still bothering me.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re still the best pussy I’ve ever gotten.” At least so far. He had a suspicion he knew a pony who could top her.

“Damn right I am. I’m not going to be beaten by two-bit idols.” Burning Heart brushed her bangs from her eyes.

The sat in silence for a few moments.

“So… what have you been up to?” Anon asked.

“The same as always. As often as dancers and customers cycle through here, it never really changes.” She rubbed one hoof atop the other. “And I’m getting married.”

Anon would have spit take if he had water. “What?”

“I guess Moonglade didn’t tell you. I met him here. He’d just left his previous herd and we just kind of hit it off.”

Anon recovered from his shock with a mental slap. Of course she’d move on, what did he expect? No one just waits around for their ex to come back. “That’s pretty cool, congratulations.”

“Heh, thanks. But I’m probably not the only one committed, right? I bet you found yourself a nice filly.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m… I’m here with her, actually. To visit, I mean,” he lied.

“Always have another one in your pocket, don’t you?” A thoughtful look crossed Burning Heart’s face. “I don’t know how long you’re going to be here for, so why don’t we go on a double date tonight before the lounge opens?” Her look turned sly. “That way we can see which of us traded further up.”

“I… I don’t know, maybe that’s not, uh…”

“What? You guys don’t have plans already, do you?”

“Well, no but…”

“Great. Let’s meet at The Golden Trough tonight, half past six bells, then. And don’t forget to bring your marefriend. Don’t want you going third wheel on me.”

“Yeah… That would be awkward.” Anon felt his stomach fall out beneath him.

--

Anon stayed for another hour. He talked with his three old friends about the places he’d been since his time in Baltimare, about how the lounge had grown, and about Moonglade’s weird family in Hollow Shades. He didn’t know mangos even grew that deep in the woods. But as the sun approached its zenith, he decided he’d better leave. He had to get ready for the double-date, after all, which meant he had to convince Starlight in the first instance.

This was a terrible idea. He knew it was a terrible idea the moment he’d lied, but it just slipped out like a wardrobe malfunction. Now he was going to get yelled at by Starlight and then embarrassed in front of Burning Heart’s fiancé. Why couldn’t he just say no, he didn’t have a marefriend? It would have been so easy. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He entered The Hoofland and walked to their room. Swift Service gave him a strange look as he passed, but he greeted her and ignored it. Every step was another weight on his ankles. What would he say to Starlight? Please pretend to be his girlfriend for an hour and he’d buy her food for the next month? It wasn’t like her to lie, and less to lie to perfect strangers. And, crap, what if she asked what Burning Heart does? He hated the idea of Starlight knowing he used to date a stripper, that he used to work in a strip club. Even worse, one that doubled as a brothel below the table.

He stood outside of their room and took a deep breath. Maybe if he used his expert groveling skills she’d play along. It wouldn’t hurt to try, right? A blow to his pride here was less painful than the blow promised later that day. He opened the door and was hit with a scent that made him question whether he’d left Moonglade’s Lounge.

“Uh, Starlight?”

He heard a whimper as he entered. He froze in place. Starlight was splayed on her bed, tail to the side, brushing her hoof across her pussy lips.

She looked at him, eyes lidded, and smiled. “Welcome back.”