Dear Journal,

It has been quite a few days since I last wrote, and I would like to start by saying something that I didn’t think I would ever say.

Hiking is fucking awesome.

Okay, so, this all started when Pinkie put the idea in my head. I decided to pack myself a lunch and take a hike out to ghastly gorge. I’ve lived in Ponyville for a couple years now, but in all that time I’ve never really… gotten out. Never seen the sights, you know?

So hiking is good exercise and all, but mostly… nature is just gorgeous. I grew up in a concrete jungle; Manehattan was a metropolis. So in all my life I’ve never really... had a chance to appreciate nature... outside of a book, I mean.

So, as i said, my first hike was to Ghastly Gorge. The trek there was pretty on its own, just a little path through forest. Autumn is in full swing by now, so the oranges and reds and yellows… beautiful.

But the Gorge itself… it’s just so… I can’t describe it. It’s like… I’ve never been that high up without a fence or a window or something. It’s so… exhilarating being that high up. That must be what Pegasi feel like.

I walked all the way to the precipice and peeked over the edge. You can feel it… you can feel how high up you are. Your guts, just, twist in fear; it’s awesome.

But anyways, I spent… all day, just… walking along the Gorge. I didn’t get back until sunset. It… It was too cool… I wished I had packed dinner.

So next time I did.

A couple days later I had a free day, so I popped into town to grab myself a couple of heavy duty saddle bags. I was so excited I didn’t even notice the townsponies’ stares. I was grinning the whole time.

I set out just after breakfast. I got much farther the second time… all the way to where the quarray eels make their nests. You can see them stirring in their little caves in the canyon-side. Every now and then you can see a giant nose popping out for a quick moment, and sometimes if you look close you can catch one grabbing a low flying bird out of the air. I have never been so awe-struck. I’ve never seen any animal that…. massive before, at least not outside of a cage. They could easily swallow me whole.

One made eye contact with me. I could see it as the sun was just starting to dip, on my way back. Those… beautiful orange eyes. Its gaze followed me from deep in the creature’s nest. I just… stared back at it as I walked by. It was…. I don’t know, I can’t read animals like I can read ponies… hungry maybe? Maybe it was daring me to come over and dangle myself in front of its den.

Humbling… very humbling.

And fun… so very fun.

Relaxing too, is a weird sort of way… I dunno… it’s almost… meditative. I’ve got a hobby, it’s official.

So, I’ve decided I’m going to start hiking more. There are supposedly a lot of scenic locations around Ponyville. Some places are a few days away… or more… I’m going to need to learn about camping. White Tail Woods is close by, though. I may start taking walks there.

Just because.

I have to give credit to Pinkie… she really nailed it. I love hiking more than I thought I would. Hell, more than I thought I could.

I definitely… I’m definitely going to ask Derpy if she’d like to hike with me. It can only be more fun with two ponies, right?

Anyways, that’s enough about me and my newfound love.

I’m writing this entry much earlier… or later… than I’m used to writing Journal entries… It’s just about lunch time. The reason for this is that I didn’t get to sleep until the sun was up.

I’ll start at the beginning.

I received a letter a few days ago. It had been delivered by Derpy, which was unusual. Most of the letters I get are hand delivered; most ponies don’t want to suffer the indignity of being seen at the post office sending a letter to “that one cabin outside town”, but somepony had actually used the mail system to reach me. Once I got a better look at the letter I understood why… however it only raised more questions.

This letter was from Canterlot.

Now, I’ve never gotten a letter from Canterlot before, mostly because I’ve never been to Canterlot. I don’t know anypony in Canterlot… but apparently someone knew me. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when I opened the letter.

It read:

Yo, G P

My friend said I just HAD to have a session with you… says it does wonders. I’ll be in Ponyville on the 16th. I’ll drop by at midnight.

P-3

‘P-3?... Midnight?’

Now, bizarre initials aside, I’m very used to having late clients. When you work in a stable, it usually opens at dusk and closes at dawn. I used to very much be a night owl. It was just… it had been a while, several years even, since I pulled an all-nighter, and I figured if a pony was showing up at midnight, they weren’t planning to leave till daybreak.

I made a point of sleeping in this morning… no… yesterday morning… I barely slept last night, it still feels like yesterday.

Boy, am I glad I don’t have a client today…

Wait, Do I?

No I don’t… I checked.

I’ve been all paranoid about that since that time with Rarity, Derpy and Carrot Top.

Anyways…

Like I said, I made a point of sleeping in… I tried to sleep until about five o'clock, but I got restless at about two. Caffeine was going to be my hero… caffeine and sugar. I had a breakfast-lunch of cereal and toast. Not a brunch, mind you; brunch implies melon, and there was none to be had.

I spent most of the day reading some of the articles in a new magazine I bought, Equestria Outside. (Yes, it’s a hiking magazine.) As the sun sank far past the horizon, and night took hold, I already found myself drowsy, and it was barely eleven. I brewed myself a quick pot of chai tea to keep me awake.

Midnight came and went before there was any sign of my client. I was a little upset.

‘If she doesn’t show up after all the work I put into my appearance, and the lighting, and the music and… staying up this LATE… I might just lose my freaking mind.’

Okay maybe more than a little upset.

At around 12:30 there was a knock at the door. She was late, but not inexcusably late. Either way, there’s no point in greeting a new client with anything but total hospitality. I swallowed by childish pettiness and answered the door.

“I was worried you weren’t going to make it,” I said as I opened my front door.

I was promptly pushed to the side as a white blur barreled past me, almost knocking me on my flank. “Lemme in, dude! It’s freezing!” Once I recovered I had the mental presence to shut the door. The white, somewhat rude unicorn that had just barreled past me was shaking from the cold. Her mane and tail were positively electric... like blue lightning. Spiky too. Her Cutie mark was a musical note. Her eyes were invisible behind reflective purple shades.

‘Sunglasses at night? Now that’s class.’ I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.

Once she stopped shivering, she took a quick survey of my humble home. “Nice digs, buddy. Not bad at all.” There was a sort of… beat… about her, her head endlessly bobbing to some silent song. Even the way she trotted was almost rhythmic.. each step the quake of a drum.

“Uh, thank you, I try. Would you like some tea, I’ve got a kettle on the stove right now, and quite a selec-”

“Naaaah, dude, that’s cool I got about 6 energy drinks runnin’ through me. Got any beer?”

‘Ugh.’ I did have beer, but I did not like where this was going. This girl’s whole attitude… I could tell she was a party girl… and I could tell she would not be stopping with beer. I have some harder liquor but... I really wasn’t looking to lose bits on a client by having to replace expensive booze. Especially if the odds were that she wouldn’t be a repeat.

I fetched a six pack, and we took our seats. The beer was warm; it hadn’t been in the fridge. I didn’t mind all that much, and neither did she, by the looks of things. She finished the first can immediately and immediately started on her second, her magic ripping it free from its little plastic crown. I was content just nursing mine. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something warmer?”

She just shook her head… never stopped drinking. After three beers, and a loud belch, she finally felt like conversation. “Not bad. Domestic?”

I had no idea to be honest. “I don’t know, actually.” I shrugged. “I, uh, I have a few questions I’d like to ask you, if that’s okay.”

“Shoot.”

“If I may properly introduce myself *ahem*… My name is Guilty Pleasure. What may I call you?”

“Vinyl’s fine, dude.”

‘Vinyl? What happened to P-3?... Oh well.’

“Very well. Second, how did you hear about me?”

“Oh, that. I got a friend in town, Pinks. She said I should stop by because…” She swallowed. “…you were a blast.”

She was lying. I don’t doubt that her friend recommended she stop by, but not for the reason she said. I assumed ‘Pinks’ was Pinkie. A ‘blast’ is just not something I was for Pinkie. I was the opposite of a blast… I was a wet blanket.

“So I had a gig in town and figured… ‘What the hell? I can stay here for another day.’”

“A gig?” I cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m a D.J…. Wait, you mean you didn’t recognize me? I’m hurt.” She smirked at me.

After that I did recognize her… I’d seen her picture in a few magazines… She was D.J. Pon-3. Now I’m not really one for… whatever that genre of music is called. But I know enough to know she’s something of a celebrity. She performed at a royal reception, I believe.

“Sorry... I only just put it together.” My hoof found the back of my head. I actually blushed a little.

She chuckled. “S’all good, bro. I’m just pulling your leg.”

I smiled. “So you had a show in Ponyville tonight?”

“Last night.” Her brow furrowed. “ It was… kind of a big deal. I was on stage in the town square and everything… some… festival or something. I dunno. You didn’t go?”

“I don’t go into town that often. I’m not really… Ponyville, if you catch my meaning.”

“I hear ya, dude, me too. It’s all too…”

“Rural?” I offered.

“HA! Exactly. City boy?”

“Mmhmm.” I smiled; it was nice to find a little common ground.

“Where from?”

“Manehattan.” I allowed myself to start throwing back the beer. She may have come off as… brash, but she was friendly enough.

“MMMM” She hummed, her voice vibrating off the aluminum on her lips. She put her empty on the table, finishing what I believe was her fourth can. She opened her fifth fairly quickly. I can’t drink beer like that… I get too full. I don’t know where she was putting it all. “I… love…Manehattan.”

“Yeah?”

I… love Manehattan too... I really do.. I won’t lie; I miss it. The bright lights. The iridescent sky. The 24-hour fast food and liquor stores and salons, even. The… anonymity of walking through the streets. The buildings. The sight of carriages filling the streets. The din of honking horns. The sirens. The rooftops. The alleys. The smell of the river. The farmer’s market. Little Bitaly. The pizza. The bagels. Even the bums. I miss it all.

“Yeah, dude. I mean… like… you can find anything there. Like there’s this little place WAY down on 82nd. It’s this little haysian-food place. They make these dumplings. They’re like filed with this weird…egg…frosting… stuff. They’re awesome. AND I got this sound system one time, for like… half of what it should have cost.”

I chuckled. “Lemme guess… some guy sold it to you off the back of his cart?”

“Yeah… why?” She raised an eyebrow.

“You do know it was probably stolen, right?”

She just shrugged. “Oh well… mine now.”

“HA!” ‘Classy.’ I finished off my beer… leaving me now one drink to her five. “So tell me about Canterlot; I’ve never been.”

“Canterlot’s cool. Nice shops… beautiful city. And shit, the view from the mountaintop: fucking sick. The ponies though… ugh.”

“Bad?”

“No, they’re… okay. It’s just… *sigh*… everypony’s so stuck UP. Ya know?”

“Yeah, I get you… It’s the… ‘Bed of Nobility’ and all.”

“Exactly. Everything is all… status… and… image. It’s a snore fest sometimes. S’got a sick underground though. Some ponies who actually know how to enjoy life.”

“That’s good.” I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what she was talking about, but I assumed it had something to do with loud bassy music in abandoned warehouses or something equally ridiculous. “Well, I’ve just got one more question.” Hunky smile, activate. “What can I do for you?”

A mischievous grin spread across her face. “Oh, you know… I’m just… looking for a good time.” She stood herself up… and began strutting around the table towards me. “Just trying to… enjoy life.” Her voice was suddenly sultry. “Wanna have a little… fun… Guilty?”

If I may be totally honest… she wasn’t very good at the sexy voice. She sounded a little… silly. But hey… I’m a professional; I was just being overly critical.

I could already see my next move, though. She wanted to seduce me. And If she wanted to seduce me… I was going to be seduced. I did my best to appear a bit flustered. If I could blush on cue, I would, but I don’t think anypony can pull that off. But even so, I can stutter a little, shift uncomfortably, swallow visibly.

“I would… uh, I would like that very much.”

“I bet.” Her grin grew even wider. She was standing behind me now. “But first thing’s first… I’m gonna need something a little…” Her mouth can down to my ear… just hovering. “…stronger.” she whispered.

“I’ve, uh… got a liquor cabinet… it’s, uh, pretty…” Visible swallow. “…expensive.” I’d like to stress how easy this is to overdo… play the part too hard and you just look like your acting… the trick here is to undersell it.

It’s like this. Someone who is being seduced doesn’t want to look it… they want to act casual, like nothing’s really getting to them. So if I want to appear like I’m being seduced, I want to appear like I want to appear casual. I have to be… subtle.

She chuckled, her breath gently tickling my ear. “Trust me Guilty, I can afford it.” Her muzzle grazed me ever so slightly. “Now why don’t you go pour me something, hmm?”

“O-okay.” I made my way over to my liquor cabinet. I keep it decently well stocked. Not nearly as much of what I’d like is available in Ponyville. Still, I’ve got enough to whip up a few cocktails. I’ve got a sort of a little counter between my kitchen and foyer; I think it makes for a good bar. Vinyl seemed to think so too, since she stood opposite me. “What’ll ya have?”

“Mmmmmmm… something sexy.” She licked her lips. Again, my inner escort was getting fed up at how much she was overdoing it… she didn’t appear… genuine. But still… that’s just… me being too hard on somepony who isn’t a professional. Regardless, I did some quick booze math in my head.

“That… can be arranged.” At first I was afraid I didn’t have enough cranberry juice, but I did. Now, I’ve had a little practice, and a little training, in the fine art of mixology. (That’s a technical term, by the way. I swear.) So when a client asks for ‘something sexy’ the first thing I think of is a Sex on the Beach. It’s a strong drink, but when it’s done right it doesn’t really taste like it. I popped a couple ice cubes into a highball, and poured in my liquors and juices. It came out looking… perfect. The orange juice settled at the bottom, the cranberry juice on top… just like a Sunset.

I placed the glass delicately in front of Vinyl. She actually slid her shades down her nose to get a better look. Her eyes… they were beautiful. Royal Purple. Almost the same color as her ridiculous shades. “Wow… you really went all out.” ‘Not really.’ “What’s this called?”

“It’s a, um… Sex on the Beach.” Nervous shifting of eyes.

She took a sip. “Whoa, dude, I said something stronger. Does this even have anything in it?” Her act was completely forgotten… she was distracted by her drink.

“It’s almost half liquor. Is it good?”

She took another sip… then a longer one… then a gulp… then the drink was gone. “Dude…dude… You’re awesome.”

I wasn’t sure if I should go back to my act of being seduced, or if I should just accept the praise. I decided on the latter. “Thank you.” I smiled.

“Make something else!” She was so excited… it was kind of cute, to be honest. She was practically bouncing on her hooves.

I decided to make her a Painkiller… I didn’t have any coconut syrup; I don’t think anywhere in Ponyville would even have it. But I did have a little bit of coconut rum, so I made do. I pulled a tumbler out of a cupboard and began mixing my drink. “Whoa, dude, I don’t need a fresh glass, this one’s fine.”

“What I’m making doesn’t go in a highball.”

She cocked her head to the side. “What’s a highball?”

I began measuring out my dark rum. “That glass you just drank from… that’s a highball glass.”

“Yeah?… What’s that one?”

Next was pineapple juice. “This is a tumbler.”

“Why’s it called that?”

Orange juice. “I have no idea.”

She laughed. “You’re funny, dude.”

Coconut rum. “Thank you.” Pour over ice… serve. “Here you go.” Now, you’re supposed to sprinkle nutmeg on top… but she didn’t need to know that.

She took a long sip. “Mmmmm… that’s fucking radical. What’s it called?”

“That’s a Painkiller.”

“…huh…” She went back to guzzling down her drink. There was something on her face for a moment. When I told her what it was called. It was… hard to put my hoof on. Almost like a snicker, like she was in on some joke that I wasn’t.

“Something wrong?”

“Huh? Nah, dude, I’m good.” She was lying again. “So, uh… where’d you learn to make drinks like this?”

“Just… something you pick up in my line of work.”

“That’s cool.” Her magic lifted her glass once more, but not to her lips. She was inspecting it… carefully analyzing the glass’s surface. “So, like… each drink only goes into a specific glass?”

“Mmhmm.” I decided to make myself something as well. I started pouring myself Manehattan. It’s a damn shame I didn’t have any cherries. It’s just not the same without a cherry.

“Why?”

“Well, some drinks are too big for a small glass, or vice versa.” I took a sip; it was still a perfectly good Manehattan. “Like your drink for example. It’s meant to be drunk like soda almost. Big gulps. It goes down smooth. Now this is a Manehattan… it’s meant to be sipped. Cocktail glasses are for sipping. I thought you might know a little about booze, you don't exactly seem like a stranger to liquor.

She shrugged. “I’ve always been more of a ‘straight from the bottle’ girl.”

“Then why’d you ask me to pour you something?”

She shrugged again. “Meh, I was just trying to be sexy.”

‘I love it when they softball them in for me.’

Okay now, it isn’t uncommon that a mare feels she needs to… romance me. Some like the act, like Rarity, but others kind of tend to treat me like a date just out of habit. I always try to remind a client that they don’t have to do anything for my benefit. Sometimes, I have the chance to remind them in a cheesy way.

Vinyl had just happened to set me up for one of my favorite cheesy lines.

“Vinyl, You don’t have to try to be sexy… you are sexy...” There was suddenly a little bit of red in her cheeks… and it wasn’t from the booze. Corny though it may be, that line works almost every time. “…aaaaand you don’t have to go out of your way for me. Tonight is all about you.”

“F-fine…” She pulled her shades back over her eyes. She was a little flustered… right where I liked her. She spent a couple minutes finish off her drink in silence. I ended up finishing my Manehattan, so I poured myself another. I was beginning to feel the alcohol, which is usually something I like to avoid if I can, but… I got the feeling it was appropriate tonight.

Vinyl was getting a little bit tipsy as well. After all, she’d had probably a dozen drinks worth of liquor at this point. Not drowsy though… just tipsy… and more than a little silly. “You know what we should do, dude?”

“Enlighten me.”

“We should start a club together! It would be awesome!” She was enthusiastic, at least.

I kind… snort-laughed. “How would we start a club?”

“Well, like… you be the bartender.”

“Uh huh...” I was cracking up inside… I may have been a little more intoxicated than I realized.

“And, like… I’ll be the music.”

“Okay…”

“And we’ll pay ponies to do everything else.”

I laughed out loud. “How are we gonna afford that.”

“With the money we make from the club, DUH!” She rolled her eyes at me.

“Of course… and how, pray tell, do you propose we pay for a building, or liquor to start off... or for that matter the first round of paychecks?” I took a sip of my Manehattan as I rolled my eyes right back.

“Dude, I’ve got mad bits. I don’t know what to do with it all. I’ve got a seven-figure bank account!”

I nearly choked on perfectly good cocktail. “Holy shit, Vinyl!”

“Dude, you may not have recognized me, but I am a celebrity.”

“Hey! I recognized you… eventually.”

“Only after I pointed it out.”

I held up a hoof in defeat. “Fine, fine. You win.” I finished what was left of my drink. “So, were my drinks sexy enough for you?”

“Sexiest I’ve had.” She giggled.

“Well next time you may consider actually asking the bartender to mix you something, instead of just asking him to pass you the bottle. There are much better bartenders than myself out there.”

“I wouldn’t even know how to order anything, dude.”

“Well you already know three cocktails.” I decided to test something really quick. “You, know, the ‘Sex on the Beach,’ the ‘Manehattan,’ and the ‘Painkiller.” Her expression got like it did before. It was only for a split second, but when I said Painkiller her face got… it’s hard to describe… somewhere between acceptance and depression. Something about the name ‘Painkiller’ bothered her. I made a mental note of it.

“So Vinyl… are you having fun?” I walked back around my little makeshift bar.

“You bet!”

This time I was standing behind her. I whispered into her ear, “Wanna have a little more?”

Her ears perked up. “Mmmmm… which way’s the bedroom?”

“Right this way, Vinyl.” I led her across my foyer.

She was seemed more than ready… a big grin plastered on her face… plastered being the operative word. I joke, she seemed a little more sober than me, to be honest. ‘She sure can hold her liquor.’

“I’ll be honest, it’s been a while since I’ve had a stallion.”

“Bit of a dry spell?”

She snickered. “I didn’t say that.” I immediately caught her meaning.

‘She goes both ways… neat.’ I giggled.

I opened the door, my bedroom still looked, and smelled, enchanting. Candlelight and incense and music. It was quite the set-up.

“You’ve got a cloud bed, nice. I’ve got one too.”

“Hmm… can’t say I hear that a lot.” I quickly fished a birth control potion out of my trunk, and downed it. Normally a client asks what I’m doing at this point but.... she seemed oddly occupied.

“Something the matter?”

Her ears were flared out. She was listening to the music. When she spoke her voice was sort of… off. “I know who this is.” It wasn’t like she’d made a pleasant little discovery or anything. She seemed… upset that she knew who it was.

I listened for a moment. It was just some light strings, but it was a song I knew. “It’s, uh, Half Measure. Just some of her early stuff… I can change it if you like.” I was a little thrown, to be honest. She was full of life and energy seconds ago. Either way, I did my best to remain calm and collected.

“No, I… never mind, it’s not important.”

I raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. Before we begin, though… two rules.”

“Shoot.”

“No kissing on the lips.” I drew a little ‘X’ in the air over my mouth. “And if either one of us says stop… we both stop.”

“No prob dude.”

I smiled. “Good.”

She hopped up onto the bed and plopped onto her back. She looked tired, to be honest. ‘Maybe those energy drinks are wearing off.’ I quickly wriggled out of my jeans and slid myself next to her. Her body was warm from the liquor. Mine was too.

I started slow, peppering her withers with tiny kisses. She smiled again. “Mmmm That feels good.” Her body pressed against my chest. We’d only just begun, but she seemed to be quivering in pleasure. She let loose tiny little gasps. Little *ahs* and *mmms* as I pecked. My hooves traced gently along her flank as I spooned her.

I teased her until I felt myself grow hard, prodding it gently against her rear end. “Wow… it’s… it’s really been a while *hehe.*” She lifted one leg high into the air.

“Ready?” I asked… she seemed eager to get right to it.

“Yeah...” She was panting in anticipation. I brought myself between her spread hocks.

What happened next was… very awkward. Let me see if I can put this delicately. Have you ever tried to go down a waterslide that didn’t have any water on it?

Yeah… that.

“Uh…*hmm*…uh… hold on… *unf*… if you could just… yeah… okay no, wait… *rrgh*… Ok lemme just… *nnf* sunnova.” I tried and failed to… penetrate... several times.

“You, uh, want me to move, dude.”

“Yeah, actually, why don’t you-“

“On all fours?”

“Yeah.”

She rolled out of our admittedly awkward position, and crept up onto her hooves. I did the same, and…well... for lack of a more eloquent term… mounted her.

“Ok now if I can just… *huff*… oh come on… you want me to lick you first.”

She was not pleased to say the least. “Come on, dude, just fuck me already.”

“Well… *sigh*… I’m trying, I just… I’m not exactly ‘cleared for landing’ if you know what I mean.”

“What are you trying to say?” She was getting pretty upset.

“Dry as a bone, Vinyl,” I said flatly.

“What are you...?” She reached a hoof down. “Oh, come on!” I just stayed propped awkwardly on top of her as she spent a few moments rubbing herself. “Lemme just… do you… have any… lube... or something?” I trotted off the bed and over to my oils chest. I grabbed a simple oil, unscented, unflavored, nice and slippery.

Her magic pulled the bottle out of my hand before I could even hoof it to her. She immediately coated her hoof which proceeded to coat her loins. “Ok, try now.” I obliged, but… no go. It was plenty moist now, but… far too tight.

“Try and relax.” I offered.

“I am relaxed,” she fumed.

I let out a long sigh. “Spread a little wider.”

She begrudgingly spread her legs out. She groaned loudly. She was… just fed up with this. She was getting a little mad.

“I just… *nnf*… sorry Vinyl, it’s just… it won’t fit.”

“Yeah like that has trouble fitting into anything,” she scoffed

“Excuse me?” I honestly wasn’t sure I’d just heard that. Sure, maybe I haven’t got the biggest dick, but… you just don’t go there.

“Come ON, dude. It’s not that hard. Just stick it in me!”

I took a step back to examine the situation. I had a mare….yelling at me to fuck her. Now this is a situation I’ve been in many times before. Starting off as a prostitute, you’re never very good right away. Every whore has their share of unsatisfied customers. But I mean… stage fright… not being able to get it up… all that stuff… it goes away. Here, I was doing everything right, and a Mare was yelling at me to fuck her, when she was closed up like a vault.

And then I remembered something. I work for myself. I’m not just another whore in the stable. There’s no threat of punishment. There’s no one telling me to ‘suck it up, it’s the job.’ I can’t get fired if I’m my own boss. I’m self-employed now, which gave me a power I had yet to exercise. Honestly, I hadn’t had the need.

I had the power to say no. I’d honestly forgotten that.

“No…” I made a point of sounding as offended as possible.

“Wha?” Her ears perked up.

“No I’m not going to ‘stick it in you.’” I dismounted her and hurried off the bed. “I’m not going to fuck you. I’m not going to do a single thing more for you.” I began to put my jeans on as quickly as I could… which was not very quickly at all. “I’d like you to leave.”

The look on her face was just priceless. Her jaw was literally hanging open. Her shades almost dropped off of her face. “I… I don’t… but you’re… I… I want my money back!”

I was struggling with my left leg as I answered. “You haven’t…*nnf*… actually paid me yet, you know. And for that matter, you’re not owed sex.”

She was baffled. “But… but you can’t do that, you’re a whor-”

“Escort!” I cut her off. “I am an *ngh* Independent escort. You are paying for my time, not my body. Yes, I do have sex with a number of my clients but not simply because they want to. I enjoy pleasing mares… every time I pleasure a mare, every time… it’s my choice. And I’m *nnf* …fuckin’ zipper… I’m choosing not to fuck you.” It was honestly very… cleansing… to remind myself of this. Remind myself that I’m not here just to please mares, and make them feel loved for a few hours. That I don’t have anypony to answer to. That if I choose not a fuck a mare it doesn’t get docked from my pay. That nopony is going to tell me I messed up. That…

That the job isn’t everything… not anymore.

“I’ll… I’ll tell everypony you’re terrible! Nopony will hire you!” There was a slight flutter in her voice… I noticed it too late.

“Two things. I already have a healthy clientele, full of clients who know, respect, and trust me. Even still, I’m situated here in Ponyville, not Canterlot. You may have a few friends here, but I’ve got dozens of clients. Secondly… You… a celebrity… Are going to come out and say ‘I went to this whore, he’s awful?’ Yeah… I don’t think so.” I was being snarky… again. I was so focused on winning the little argument that I didn’t notice something important.

“What… what the fuck is wrong with you? Why the fuck won’t you just fuck me?” There were tears forming in her eyes… I missed those too. Honestly, maybe I didn’t… I dunno. If I did see them I chose to ignore them.

“Because, you’ve got a bad attitude. I was doing my best and you start… insulting my equipment. That’s… that’s just not right. I don’t have to put up with that.” To my credit I wasn’t vicious or anything… I kept a very collected tone.

“Then…*sniff*…then…*sob*… then I’ll leave. I’ll l-leave and I’ll *sob* n-never come back… I’ll just… g-g-go!” I snapped out of my little… tizzy, I suppose is the word. There were tears just pouring down her face. I was ready to try and calm her down once I realized how upset she was. It sort of came out of nowhere… well maybe not the tears, but the attitude. Up until right then she was… mad, livid even. But she just sort of… broke down.

‘Guilty, you fucked up again didn’t you?’

She collapsed onto the bed. She curled herself into a ball and just started bawling.

‘Yup… you fucked up, Guilty.’

Honestly, I only fucked up a little. I may have been a little harsh, but not out of line. I had every right to refuse service to a mare who was being disrespectful. I didn’t actually do anything to make her cry. At least, I don’t think I did. More than anything I messed up by not catching her in time for her breakdown. Then again I may not have been able to do much if I had. Sometimes… you’ve just got to cry.

I know that all too well.

After a bit, I hazarded putting a comforting hoof on her shoulder, but she shook me off. I decided the best thing I could do was give her a little bit of space. I let her know I was going to make some tea, and stepped out of the bedroom.

I’ve had mares break down crying before. If they don’t want comfort, I usually find that a little time to cool off is the best thing for them. So I put another kettle and waited in the foyer. She would come out when she was ready.

After twenty minutes, she did. She slunk out of the bedroom. Mane a mess, eyes red and puffy, glasses forgotten, head hanging. She was a wreck. She sat down opposite me… not a word. Didn’t touch her tea.

“…sorry…” She muttered. She was so… forlorn.

“It’s okay.” I tried not to sounds too somber. I don’t think I did a very good job.

“N-no… I mean it… I’m sorry I was…” She rubbed her eyes. “...makin’ fun of yer dick.”

“Oh… that… well, uh… apology accepted.”

“And… and sorry I-”

“Don’t be... nothing wrong with crying. This is a safe place Vinyl.”

“O-okay.” She started to tear up again. She brought her elbows to the table and buried her face in her hooves. I was going to move to comfort her, but a muffled question came through her limbs.

“Hey Guilty?”

“Hmm?”

“Can…can you make me another Painkiller, dude?” She was on the verge of crying again. She sounded like a little kid, like she was asking for ice cream because she scraped her knee. She was… and I mean no offense here… pathetic. Truly and utterly pathetic.

“Of course.”

Normally I wouldn’t want to give that much liquor to a mare… but honestly couldn’t fucking say no to her right now. Besides, I was sure she could handle another drink. So, I mixed her up a fruity batch of feel-good juice.

“Thanks.” She started nursing her tropical sedative.

“No prob.”

A few silent moments passed. She just sat there… lost in her glass. I decided to take a risk.

“You want to talk about it?”

She looked up from the bottom of her glass. “Talk about what?”

“Talk about what’s go you hurting so bad you need two full glasses of painkiller.”

“… I dunno…” She swallowed hard. “…I kinda… just had a pretty nasty breakup… is all.”

“… a mare?” I asked. It had to be.

“…yeah…” She admitted.

I got up. I decided I didn’t want her to drink alone, so I grabbed my whiskey, my vermouth, my bitters, and a cocktail glass out of my kitchen and joined her once more.

“So what happened?” I asked as I poured myself yet another Manhattan.

“Well, like… *sob*… ok…” She took a deep breath. “… we’d been seeing each other for a long time…”

“How long is a long time?” Everypony has a different idea of a 'long time' in a relationship.

“I dunno like two months.”

‘That’s… that’s not very long at all.’ I took a swig of my cocktail, and further regretted my lack of cherries.

“Okay, go on.” I said. I didn’t even really realize I started playing 'Psychiatrist Guilty,' but sure enough, I had.

“Well like… okay… things were going pretty well. We were having lots of fun… lots of sex.” She smiled almost lecherously. “She’s a wild one… whether she admits it or not. But after a while it just sort of… fell apart.”

“How so?”

“We… I dunno. We were fighting... a lot. There was a while where we didn’t get to see each other, just… very different schedules, ya know?” I nodded. “I dunno… after a while it just sort of… *sigh*... we didn’t… it wasn’t the same.”

“How so?” The key to helping somepony through their problems is actually very simple. Say as little as possible unless asked. Listen listen listen, and get them to figure it out on their own, If you can. And if you do say something... wait until you’re fairly certain what the problem is.

“It was… I dunno… like… when I’m dating somepony… it’s like… exciting. Like there’s so much energy and fun and… it’s awesome.”

“And this mare wasn’t like that?”

“No she totally was… I mean… different, but still. There was so much… life… in her.”

“Different how?”

“Well like… well for one she’s probably the first pony I dated who couldn’t stand my music.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s a big classical girl... heh... you’d like her, I bet.” Her face. It was amazing. Even through all the tears and puffy eyes and sobbing her face was… radiant. She was so, so happy just talking about this mare. “She’s a Cellist actually.”

I realized something… when vinyl said ‘I know who this is,’ she wasn’t talking about the composer… she was talking about the performer. “Was she the one playing on my Half Measure album?”

“…yeah…”

“*Hmph*… it’s actually pretty impressive you could pick her out like that.”

She giggled. “She was so proud of that album… she listened to it all the time… said it was her best performance ever…”

“You really liked this girl, huh?”

“Yeah, I did… I do.”

“So what happened?”

“Well it was just… it wasn’t right.” She looked down into her glass.

“You keep saying that, what do you mean?”

“I mean… It started out fine. Fun. Sex. Music. But after a while we just sort of… fell into a routine. It wasn’t… *sigh*… it wasn’t exciting anymore. You know?”

“I get you… Lemme ask you a question, Vinyl.”

“Shoot.”

“What’s the longest relationship you’ve ever had?”

“Uh… that one, I guess. I mean mostly they only last a couple weeks at the most. You know?”

“Mmhmm. So why did you stay with this mare for so long?”

“I dunno… I was never very serious about relationships… Mostly I’d just pick up a pony, fuck them silly for a while, and… I dunno… get bored I guess... Jeez, I sound awful, don’t I?” She found comfort in her cocktail once more.

I gave a slight shake of my head, and started making another Manehattan. There were no doubts in my mind I was going to regret this tomorrow… but hey a hangover builds character.

“Anyways… with her… I dunno, she sort of… walked into my life. She didn’t know who I was at first… so she just sat down and started talking to me. I was in this... terrible little bar... just hanging out.” She was grinning like a fool. “We ended up arguing for hours about music... we were really going at it.

“We fought and yelled and swore and it actually came to blows. But somehow... I ended up sleeping with her that night. I was blackout drunk, I’m *hehe* I'm still not sure how it happened, to be honest. We got along better after that... for a while...

“We had… we had a lot of fun, the two of us.” She swallowed hard. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to just… leave… I wanted to stay.”

“So she ended it?”

“…no… I did…”

“Why?”

“Because… because… I don’t know. It wasn’t the same… I mean it lasted for a while, that… that high of being with somepony… but… but it wore off. There was… there was nothing left for me.”

“Can I ask another question?

“Yeah, dude… go for it.”

“Do you get this broken up over everypony you date?”

She shook her head.

“So why her?”

She was quiet for a time. When she finally did speak she was… so timid…so fragile; her voice was shaking. “…I… I don’t… know. I don’t know why… why I keep noticing that she isn’t there… why I keep expecting to wake up next to her… why I keep going to bars hoping she walks in… why I…*sniff*… why I… why I miss her…*sob* … so so much.” She was weeping like a kid again. “I miss her, Guilty…*sniff*… I really really miss her!” She hid her face behind her hooves once more.

“So… you ended it… even though you didn’t want to.” It wasn’t a question.

Her face nodded from beyond its veil of limbs.

“…why?...”

“I don’t know, okay?! It was going to end anyways, so I may as well have gotten it over with right?!” Such… desperation.

“So you were sure it was going to end, huh?…Vinyl, I have a theory, would you like to hear it?”

“*sniff*… go ahead, dude.”

I cleared my throat. “I think, Vinyl, that you’ve never really gotten the real experience of a relationship. Yes, at first relationships are very exciting, but that’s just… a honeymoon. It’s the very beginning; you’re still having fun learning about each other, exploring each other... in every sense of the word. It’s an adventure.

“But… eventually you’ve done all the exploring there is to do. Eventually there’s no more excitement… no more… high, as you put it. But… that doesn’t mean a relationship is dying. It’s just… changing. You may have felt like the relationship was ending, but… I’m not so sure it was.”

Admittedly, I got most of that little speech from a self-help book.

“*sniff*… Don’t tell me that. Don’t tell me th-that I… that I walked away for nothing." She was about to break out into tears again.

“I don’t think you walked away for nothing, Vinyl. I think you walked away because you were scared. Scared of being hurt. It’s easier to break up, than to be broken up with, right?” She nodded. “You were protecting yourself… it’s just natural.” That I came up with on the spot. I just didn’t want her to break down again.

“*sniff*… you know a lot about relationships, huh?”

I don’t know why I did what I did next. I sort of… opened up. I don’t know why I’ve been so… so forthcoming lately. I keep… I keep talking about things… thinking about things, things that haven’t been on my mind in… years. Tonight though, I was especially vocal.

It must have been the liquor.

“…not as much as I’d like.”

“*sniff* No?”

“No. When I was starting off... doing this, I mean... I… I worked in a stable.”

“Manehattan, right?” I nodded. “That big one on sixth?”

I shook my head. “It’s a smaller place on twelfth.”

She smiled... just a bit. “Heh, I’ll have to stop by sometime. If they’ve got guys like you, that is.”

“Yeah, it’s a good place… they treat everypony right. Clients and escorts. But, anyways… when you work there… personal relationships with clients are absolutely against the rules. I saw more than a few ponies lose their jobs for meeting up with clients outside the stable. But… I worked there from the time I was… hell, thirteen, until I was a man. Never… never had the chance to really meet anypony.”

Vinyl looked appalled. “You were a thirteen year old Prostitute?”

“What? Oh... no no no. I wasn’t… I wasn’t an escort there till I was eighteen. They do everything above board, there. No I was like… an errand boy. Restocking liquor cabinets. Picking up shipments of… condoms… birth control potions… new oils, whatever. Fetching whatever needed fetching. Fixing whatever needed fixing. Just a go-fer.”

“Oh… so you never… you never had a girlfriend?”

I swallowed hard. “…I came… I came close… once… she… she didn’t feel the same way. That’s uh… that’s just the way it goes, though. You know?” This time mine was the voice that was wavering. I wasn’t anywhere close to tears but… but it still hurt to think about.

I honestly hadn’t thought about her in a while. It felt... weird.

I dunno.

Vinyl stood up and walked over to me. I was about to ask what she was doing when she wrapped her hooves around me. After a couple of baffled seconds I returned her hug. We just held each other, nothing sexy. She wept quietly onto my shoulder. I got the feeling she thought I was going to cry, but… I didn’t have any tears.

“Hey, Guilty?”

“Yeah?”

“My drink’s empty…”

I broke out snickering. “Sorry, Vinyl, No more painkillers tonight… that was the last of the coconut rum.”

She broke our hug and looked at me inquisitively. “There was rum in that?”

I nodded. “Two kinds, even.”

“Wow… I could barely tell.”

“I can get you something else.” I offered.

She was starting to cheer up… I think that hug was something she really needed. “Make me one of those things you were having,” she said.

“Sure. You, uh… you may not like it. It’s not very sweet.”

“C’mon, dude, make me a… what was it called again?”

“A Manehattan.” I began mixing. I was quite the little bartender tonight.

“Right… right.”

“Now normally… there’s a cherry in this, but I’m fresh out.”

“S’all good, man.” She was already back to her old self… her eyes were still puffy, and her mane was still a mess, but… she was smiling again. I placed the drink in front of her, and she took a sip. “GLAGH! What’s in this, dude?”

I giggled. “That’s the bitters you’re tasting. Strong stuff.”

She was scraping her hoof across her tongue. “Gimme that.” She grabbed the bottle of whiskey off the table and proceeded to gargle with it. “HOO… much better.”

'Straight from the bottle, indeed.'

“That bad?”

“Dude… so bad. How do you drink that?”

I shrugged. “I dunno… I like it.”

“Hmm… *sigh*… what do you think I should do, Guilty?”

“About your girl?” She nodded. “Can you still get in touch with her?”

“…Yeah, I… I could.” She sounded unsure.

“Well why don’t you just… I dunno… ask her if she wants to talk.”

“What do I talk about?”

“I dunno… tell her what you told me… about how you miss her.” I offered.

“You think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know… but it’s worth a shot. Don’t you think?”

After a moment of contemplation she nodded.

“Dude… Pinks was right. You’re... you’re just what a pony needs.”

“I’m glad you think so. And be sure to thank ‘Pinks’ for me. For the business, I mean.”

“No prob.” She stood up. “So I, uh… I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… what do I owe ya?”

“Well it’s… 3:15? Wow… that flew by.”

“Yeah, I’ll say.”

“So that comes out to 60 bits for three hours. You know, if I wasn’t so kind, I might charge you my overnight fee.” I was only joking.

“What would it be with the overnight fee?”

“An extra fifty, so 110”

“And what about the liquor?”

“Oh, uh, I dunno… 15 bits to replace everything maybe?”

“No way, dude, you made me three awesome drinks… good ones. Those were like… twelve bit drinks in a bar I bet…”

“Maybe ten.”

“Ok so call it thirty, throw in another 5 for that six pack… that’s, what, 145?”

“I’m not going to make you pay the overnight fee, Vinyl… it’s fine.”

“Dude… you were so beyond worth it. Plus don’t forget… I’m a fuckin’ millionaire. I can afford it.”

I wasn’t about to turn away more money. “If you insist.” I smiled like a jackass… I couldn’t help it.

“Damn straight… oh shit, where are my glasses?”

“Uh, in the bedroom, I think… I’ll go and get them for you.”

“Thanks.”

As I walked back into the bedroom, I noticed something had changed. There was now a record sleeve lying on my bed, under Vinyl’s shades. I picked it up. It was my Half Measure. The sleeve I’d laid next to my phonograph. Vinyl must have found it. I took a moment to look over the sleeve. I found something interesting in tiny font on the back. There was a blurb that read: “Half Measure’s Fiddlers Green, as performed by Octavia Philharmonic.”

Octavia… That’s a pretty name.

Either way, I brought Vinyl her sunglasses. She said good bye. I said thanks for stopping by. She told me I’d get a check in the mail, and off she went. I’m a ‘cash up front guy’ but… I trusted Vinyl. I didn’t doubt I’d get that check.

Oh… I just realized that cashing that is going to be awkward… I don’t really have a bank account. I’ve never had a bank account now that I think about it. I’m not even sure how to cash a check.

Oh well, I’ll figure it out.

Anyways, I headed off to bed. I didn’t actually fall asleep until the sun was up, though. Kept tossing and turning. I was… I kept thinking about the stable… about my fellow escorts. How were they doing? Were they still in the business? A lot can happen in two years, and I haven’t had contact with anypony from the city since I left.

I wonder how Crook is. When I left he wasn’t doing so hot. I should write him a letter. He should still be working at the stable.

When I finally did get to sleep… I had… dreams… vivid dreams. I…

This is hard.

I dreamt about….

C,mon Guilty, you can do this.

I dreamt about Sunny. About the time when we were together… if you can even call it that. And I dreamt… I dreamt about how much I used to miss her. I honestly… I honestly don’t anymore. That shipped sailed a long time ago, and I got over it. But I dreamt about all the things I used to do. I used to be like vinyl, missing her… looking around places we would hang out, seeing if she was there… wishing she’d be there when I woke up

And then I did wake up. And I was in my bedroom, alone. And honestly, I’m okay with that.

I hope Vinyl and her girlfriend… Octavia… I hope they end up happy… together. Ponies deserve to have somepony.

I hope Derpy does too… she deserves to be happy.

Speaking of Derpy, I have an appointment with her later this week, and I think… I think I’m going to ask her if she’d like to hike with me. I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to do that yet... but I am.

Anyways, I woke up an hour ago, hungover and vomiting, and I need to put food in me now.

Author's Notes:

Well another chapter down, and another glimpse into Guilty's past. I hope you all enjoyed it. As always, tell your friends (if they're into this sort of thing.) Llike and fave, too, it helps me out.