“Wait a second.” I cut Pilsner off mid-speech.

“Huh?” He looked a little startled about me pulling him out of his narrative.

“You said that it wasn’t about fillies. I don’t wanna hear it if it’s about your… exploits.”

“It’s not!” Pilsner blurted out indignantly.

“So who is Rainbow Dash?

He grinned sheepishly.

“Uh, that’s… a friend of mine.”

“A friend?” I sarcastically repeated.

“A new friend. Just met her that day, but we stayed good buddies.”

“Good buddies.”

“That’s right. Real good buddies.”

“And nothing more?”

There was an awkward pause. I tried to burn through him with my gaze. It was one of the few things he reacted to, actually, and I knew it well. His eyes tried to roam the space around me as he resisted momentarily, but it wasn’t long before he gave out, locking his stare with my own. It only took a few seconds for him to break.

Fear me, for I am Vinyl, master of the death stare.

He shifted uncomfortably, biting his lip.

“Can you stop looking at me like that?”

Ding ding ding ding!

“I should have guessed," I said wearily, getting to my hooves.

Pilsner’s Attitude. Frustrating, infuriating, maddening… whatever. It made him hard to get to know, and it made him hard to know as well. It was why I didn’t really consider him when it came to stallions. Sure, he was attractive, but seriously, he was totally defunct when it came to sensitivity. Actually, now that I mention it, that’s another reason why I was surprised he got on so well with Caramel. Maybe that was just a bro-thing though.

That’s what guys do, right? Go around talking about beer and girls? I dunno, whatever.

I know I wouldn’t go around talking about the last pony I’d shared an intimate moment with. Particularly with anypony else who I’d… erm, shared an intimate moment or two with in the past.  

I mean, Celestia, it had only been like six or seven months since we’d had stern words, and we decided that under no circumstances would we have a relationship. And nor would either of us flaunt our exploits at eachother. He agreed entirely. It was kind of like a break-up. Except that there wasn’t anything to begin with! And it was mutual.

It was more… precautionary. For both of us. I mean, what we had was good, and there was no need to ruin it, so it made sense, Right? We were committed to being friends.

Unless I was desperate.

Then, we’d be friends, just… with benefits. But that’s cool.

...

…What? I have needs and wants too.

…

Don’t smile like that, you perv.

Anyway. Casual flirting and talking about girls I could do. Hell, I even enjoyed it. It even made me feel a little giddy to know that I was his go-to friend when he had problems. But detailed and in-depth monologues of how he’d hooked up with some little country filly? That’s too much for me.

“Hey, hey!”  Pilsner arced up, glaring at me. “Whether or not I… did that… to her, is beside the point.”

I wasn’t sure whether that inclination on his last words was meant for my benefit or not. Usually he had no problem discussing it with anypony who would listen. Even though he was nice enough to censor himself, I didn’t really want to talk about it, and I let him know.

“So why mention her at all?” I said. I was ready to go back inside. He could bring his own luggage in.

“She’s kind of important. She’ll come up later.”

“…Do you swear this isn’t one of those stories?”

He looked at me sadly. And I mean sad. It took me a little off-guard, naturally, but I dismissed it. He was probably just trying to make me feel bad.

“Scratch, I swear it's not one of those stories. I wouldn’t talk about that in front of you," he said.

Well, that was a lie. Wait, was he serious?

“Huh?”

“I wouldn’t. You’re dear to me, and… well, I’m not that pigheaded. And you know it.”

I couldn’t help myself. My eyes widened.

“Since when did you care about the feelings of others?”

He winced a little at the remark. It stung him badly, that was plain to see, but he held his tongue.

A sincere statement, a compliment, and no snappy response, all in the space of ten seconds. Clearly, something was very wrong in Pilsner’s head.

He gestured to the blue and white deck chair once more with a brown hoof.

“…Can you please sit? I want to tell you this story.”

My mouth fell open. I think my sunglasses might have fallen off of my ears, but I was too stupefied to care. Did he just say please? No way. No way was this real.

I took my seat again. Maybe I was just still reeling in the aftershock, but I felt a little light-headed. He put his hooves together in his lap and kneaded them, trying to avoid my eyes.

“Look, it’s not about me. Or you. That’s long gone, and, well… we’ve moved on since then.”

I felt the blood flush to my cheeks.

…Hey! I’m not jealous. I was just a little hung-over at the time, that's all.

“Yeah, well… Can we just not talk about the other girl?”

“Um, I don’t know if that’s do-able.”

“Well I don’t know if I want to hear your story then.”

“Well you might have to put up with it, because she’s my mare-friend.”

I paused.

“Your what?”

“Yeah!” Pilsner was the one who looked a little admonished now, though he was still indignant. “Yeah, well, we got on a little better than I might have thought.”

I was… stunned. Really. That’s all I can say about it. I just kinda sat there and looked at him for a moment.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I guess. We’ve been together about… two-and-something months now.”

Pilsner. The Pilsner. College frat-boy and all-star hoofball player, suckered into a sweet relationship with some country bumpkin.

If you live in Canterlot, I just want you to take like, five or ten minutes. Put this down right now, go outside, walk your flank straight up to the Castle, and ask Celestia how on god’s green earth she managed to make a girl that will put up with him for longer than four seconds, let alone four months.

“Okay, Scratch, the look is freakin’ me out now.” Pilsner said with a grimace.  

“Oh! Sorry,” I muttered, glancing around on the ground. With a burst of telekinesis, I retrieved my shades and put them back on my head. “But, uh, a relationship? Wow.”

“Not what you were expecting, I take it.”

I smiled timidly.

“No, not really.”

He let out a great sigh, and sunk a little further back into his chair.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great,” he said, a stupid grin forming over his face.

“Are you… in love?”

“Um... Just a little.”

Great Luna's Moon. He even admitted it. Here I was trying to get my head around the fact that he’d had a proper relationship at all, and he just keeps pushing the boundaries.

“All right,” I said resignedly, slapping my hooves on my calves. He looked up at me in surprise as I levitated his empty saddlebag in front of me, turning it upside down and shaking it. A few apples fell out, and I caught the weights before they hit the ground, but there was no tape recorder.

“Come on, Pilsner,” I pressed, tossing the leather satchel to one side.

“W-what?” he clamoured, startled by the sudden upset of his possessions.

“Where’s the camera. Come on, I know you’re out there somewhere, Clover.” I panned the garden in front of me for a moment, but there was no telltale snicker or giggle that would have given him away. It could only be clover that would play second fiddle in this particular prank. Caramel would have already given up out of guilt, bursting out of the bushes and begging me to forgive him while sobbing wildly, and Freddy wouldn’t even have considered the big brewer’s request.

“Scratch, I’m serious.”

        I looked back. His expression had not changed. I really had to focus hard to tell, but, sure enough, there it was. Pilsner in serious mode, right before my eyes. There wasn’t even a twitch of a smile on his face when I peered closely at him.

“Sorry if I have a hard time believing you,” I replied, feeling a bit stupid.

“That’s ok, I guess.” He picked up an apple from the ground and bit into it thoughtfully, leaving me to continue reeling in my disbelief. “Anyway, can I get back on with the story now?

“Ok.”

“Alright, well –”

“One more thing.”

He gave me an impatient look.

“What is it?”

“You can talk about the girl if you want. I thought she was just another mare. Sorry I overreacted.”

Pilsner’s eyes bugged out.

“Really?”

“Go ahead. You actually like a girl beyond the sex - that’s a world first.”

He looked slightly shocked, but his cheerful smile soon came back.

“No way. Vinyl Scratch admitting to being a drama queen? That's a real world first.”

I threw my apple core at him. He ducked, and it missed, spinning off into the garden.

“Don’t push your luck,” I said playfully, trying to hide a grin of my own. “Get on with the story.”