Urging myself to keep calm I carefully began to pull myself out of Raven's clutches, hoping that I didn't wake her up with my graceless escape. I froze for a moment when I heard the pony mumble something and sigh happily but then she settled back onto the bed, nuzzled the pillow I had lifted myself off of and then turned over to face away from me. Of course once I found success and freedom a new terrible obstacle presented itself. Rolling across the mattress to get to my feet I groggily sat up and began feeling the sticky remains of my cum on my stomach and chest....and saw the deep yellowish stain on my bed...all while my nose was being bombarded by a thick, salty smell that floated all over the apartment that refused to leave even when I cracked open the window.

Great.

The feel of the cold hardwood floor against the balls of my feet was interspersed with the cotton texture of my dress shirt and silky tie and jeans as they were apparently thrown with careless abandon at some point during last night's events. My padding over to the bathroom (that actually didn't have a bathtub or shower since the apartment had communal showers in the first floor of the fourth building in the complex), which turned out to be more of a set of stumbles while suffering from excruciating muscle soreness, nearly ended in disaster when I almost slipped on the tile but saved myself from cracking open my head by slamming my elbow against the counter. It felt as if a dozen kids wearing those shitty light-up running shoes that are obnoxious to look at spent half an hour just kicking and punching at my legs and arms and stomach while I took it like a bitch, when the biggest kid amongst them took a bat and swung at my funny bone.

It was by some miracle that the pony in the next room didn't wake up from the ruckus. I had nearly sawed my tongue off from biting down on it with how much I tried to stay quiet. After a moment of anguish and turmoil I managed to shakily stand up like a newborn foal (the irony of this image does not escape me) taking its first steps and close the door, lock it, then look at the mirror. The person I saw in my reflection was a train wreck.

Messy, oily hair. White speckles of dried gel are easy to spot in my light brown hair. Dark areas under my eyes, which were bloodshot and veiny. There's drool stain running from the corner of my mouth down to my chin. Bite marks adorn my neck and shoulder. Ugh.

I shut my eyes and placed my hands on my face, groaning as another migraine coursed through my head...

Flashes of light.

The drumming and thunder of bass; screams and shrieks of synthesized notes blaring.

Amidst the mass of dancing bodies around us I pressed against her and she reciprocated; arched her back; kissed me while looking over her shoulder, made possible by her long and slender neck. Her tongue caressed my teeth and hooked and flicked my upper lip quickly. Her forearm is wrapped around the back of my neck, keeping me close. But I had no intention of pulling myself away. My arms are wrapped around her waist. Hands roaming. Grasping. Pressing.

Her clothes feel so soft against my palms. So warm. Bristling yet smooth to my finger tips. Did her top and skirt always feel this way?

I lightly drag my fingernails along her stomach. With a jump she jerked closer to me. Heh. I feel myself twitch from hearing that cute moan of hers. Hmmm, and I love the smell of her hair. I break our kiss and drag my lips lower, to the meeting point of her shoulder and neck. Her long locks of black hair tickle my nose and she gasps just slightly from the nibble of my teeth.

Her arm leaves my neck and I feel the her use her wrist to rub against my groin, tracing around the outline of my hard member that was pressed tight in the confining material of my underwear.

She takes a step, leading me to do so as well and I pull into her as we both lean slightly forward. I ground my hips against her backside, forward, up, then down. I feel her press back against my movements, back, down, then up.

My hunger increases and I growl. Grasping her neck in my hand I pull her tighter into my greedy reach and we both stand up, her eyes locked onto mine and I close the distance to devour the taste of her lips and tongue, probing deeply and she shudders against my vicious attack. My touches soften and again she gives a wanton shudder, obviously weak against my insatiable desire.

In the boom and crest of the music playing in the background Raven said in a shivering lustful voice, "Let's get out of here." Her gray-brown eyes are full of wanting.

"Sure." I said and followed the pony to the front door.

My cheeks puff out, and I nearly hurl from the memory. "Urk..." I practically leap to the toilet situated next to the sink and bring my face close to the bowl, retching and continually spitting out the sour taste of my stomach acids that keep leaking into my mouth and making my face cringe.

My nose is runny, tears blurring my vision from the strained tightening of my throat and heaving breaths that escape my lungs. I cough and spit the sour saliva one last time as the need to vomit eventually subsides after a minute or so.

I'm gasping. Panting.

Is it from the alcohol that's still in my system? How much did I drink? It couldn't have been just that one shot.

Is it from remembering that portion of the night? Passively experiencing something that I had no previous recollection of happening until just now?

Yes? No? Maybe. I don't know.

All that matters now is that I have to wipe my mouth of the drool and spittle onto my towel nearby. I turn away from my new porcelain best friend and crawl on my hands and knees toward the towel rack on the opposite wall like a shipwrecked survivor that had been washed upon the beach of some desert island. After drying my face I took to my feet with some effort and approached the counter once more. I reached for my mouthwash and desperately unscrewed the top, then filled my mouth completely with the green minty liquid. The bite I felt in the interior of my cheeks and on my tongue was a welcome feeling as I proceeded to gargle and swish away the morning breath (among other things) away. I must've gargled the mouth wash for a good five minutes straight before I finally spat out into the sink and then did additional gargles of water to clear my pallet. I may or may not have used my toothbrush to the point of making my gums bleed a bit.

After several repeats of this process the bottle was near empty when I finally tossed it into the waste bin. But even with the fresh taste of minty flavor on my tongue I still smell it. I...I still feel it all over me. Quickly I grab the faucet knob and turned it open, letting my hands get doused in a blast of icy cold water before it eventually turned into a more tolerable temperature. The face cloth hanging on the towel rack behind me was then re-purposed to become an ad hoc body scrubber after running it in the still-running water.

Body wash, body wash...where's the body wash?

I find the bottle of Equestria-approved body wash standing atop the toilet's tank and pour a liberal amount of the clear gel onto the towel. A moment of sudsing is all that's needed before I begin wiping myself down. My arms, my torso, my neck, my junk...especially my junk. In fact I never scrubbed my junk so hard before. I hissed at how sensitive it was. I frowned and admittedly whined a bit at what I had put my mini-me through last night.

The next step was then to wring out the body wash from the towel and then make sure to keep it moist enough to wash off my body. After all was said and done I went through the arduous task of washing my hair, finding the shampoo on the toilet tank as well, over the sink.

The whole process took about twenty or so minutes from my near-death experience to my drying off using my larger bath towel after which I wrapped it around my waist. The face towel, after serving its purpose, was tossed into the waste basket as well. It deserved a moment of silence of course, and then turning the lock of the door open I stepped out of the bathroom and-

"Good morning." Raven said,then yawned while rubbing her clenched eyes with the soft central groove of her hoof. She turned to face me with her head propped on my pillow.

'SHIT!' That thought remained in my head for the next few seconds, as though I screamed at an internalized Grand Canyon that echoed my voice all over the place.

I stumbled back for a moment but then catch myself, bouncing my hand against the counter top behind me and instinctively I push forward into the main (and only) room of the apartment. My other hand is gripping tightly on the hem of the towel around my waist, as though it were under threat of being ripped away from me at any moment.

The pony laying in my bed blinked then asked with a worried expression on her face, "You ok, Matt?" She sat up, her black mane that was usually tied up in a neat bun, now cascading over her shoulders.

"Y-yeah!" I replied with a crack in my voice. I cleared my throat before continuing my verbal flailing. "Never better!"

"Oh, good." She answered thoughtfully, somehow not noticing how much I was spazzing out. Nearly a minute of silence passed before Raven continued. "Listen, about last night. I know it was pretty awkward that things ended up the way they did, so..." Her eyes then focused on the bed, which was twice as long as she was while laying on her side.

Now that I think about it, I was pretty damn wasted. By sheer luck I did not end up barfing last night and my balance was likely reminiscent of how a circus performer would look while balancing atop a ten-foot ball.

She had to have been intoxicated at least twice as much as me, considering her relative size. Ignoring the differences in metabolization of course, since my thoughts are more along the lines of 'Uhhhhhhhhhhh' mode rather than 'Let's remember high school driver's ed and calculate what my probable B.A.C. was, shall we?'.

While my mind hesitated my mouth decided to take the initiative from me. "Yeah. I think it's best we forget about it, too."

Her eyes flickered up immediately to my direction in surprise at my words before slowly settling downward again, giving a sad smile that then simply turned sad. "...n-no...um...heh...I guess...you don't want to get breakfast together, then..." She brushed a lock of her mane behind her ear, giving an awkward smile and furrowed brows while shifting how she lied atop my mattress.

I blink. "Wait, what?" It's my brain's turn to ask, finally managing to steal the microphone back from my mouth and taking control once more.

"No...I-I get it." Raven said while giving a strained smile, now. She brushed the other side of her mane back with her hoof. "I'm sorry for forgetting that...you're a human and I'm just...a pony." Without looking at me she put on her glasses from the side table and got to her hooves, hurrying around the bed toward the door.

"H-hold on, Raven. I didn't mean it like-"

"You made yourself plenty clear, Matt." Raven said to cut me off with her hoof resting on the doorknob. We stood in silence for nearly a minute. I, frozen in place and unsure what to say...unsure if I even wanted to say anything to clear myself. The gray pony mare faced away from me, not once turning to look at me. And then I heard her open the door. "...I hope you enjoy your stay in Equestria. Just...don't drink too much, next time."

"It's going to be pretty awkward if you leave before I can explain myself." I finally managed out. Something urged me to keep her from leaving just yet. There had to be something that would make her stay so things wouldn't end on such a sour note. It seemed to work, since she stopped to hear what I had to say. "I mean, what if we run into each other, again?"

"That won't be a problem." Raven replied almost scornfully. "I don't live in Neighagara." After saying this the door closed behind her and with that, she was gone.

Chapter 2.

"Hello, welcome to Neighgara First Bank." I said in greeting to the customer stepping up to my booth. "How may I help you?"

"Hrm, haven't seen you here, before. Whatever happened to Mary-Anne?"

"I wouldn't know, ma'am. I'm new."

"Yes," The pony replied simply. "I've noticed. Well, I'd just like to do a withdrawal." She said, sliding a filled out slip and accompanying bank card toward me.

"Of course. Please give me a moment." Taking the slip and card I followed proper procedure, looking up the pony's account information on one of the few working computer systems in Equestria to see the available money for withdrawal. Wow, that's a lot. And out of that she had written that she wanted to withdraw...450 bits?!

My eyes scan over the slip again to make sure. The scrawls, a pleasant-looking cursive that more often than not unicorns managed with their use of magic when they wrote, had in fact the numbers "4," "5," "0," in that order. I was perfectly comfortable in reading this level of Equestrian since I had practiced on the several flights and boat ride to Neo Equineox since Clip Clop's "Cultural Sensitivity" seminar. I was quite proud of the ✓+ I got on the reading and writing exercises we were subjected to.

As it was just short of the 500 bits that required a manager's permission to sign it off, I went ahead with processing the withdrawal order for the customer and took out several bags from the appropriate basket that was kept on the shelf under the counter.

"I'll just be a moment, ma'am." I said with a nod and went to the back room to gather the rolls of pre-sorted bits. It was a slow period in the day so I was the only one in the front at the moment while Daisy and Pete and a few others were in the back tending to the bank's commercial clientele or advising customers with mortgages or loans in another portion of the floor. In a rear stock room where coins and bits were kept I found the cardboard rolls of bits that each held twenty pieces of the Equestrian currency. Soon enough I was back at my booth and began inputting the actions and waiting for the sluggish system to acknowledge my keystrokes. It takes a second longer than I liked, but the information I wanted to input is the same as what's present to me on the screen. Before I apply the change I sift through the four bags full of bits to check that there are the proper number of rolls, twenty-two rolls and ten bits, then I push them, one bag at a time, under the bulletproof and magically reinforced booth window to the customer. The pink-maned unicorn wearing glasses looks pleased by my brisk work, not even looking to check the bags before taking them under her magical grasp and putting them into her saddlebags.

I check the customer slip one last time and then after applying the info update I print out a receipt, which I also slide along with her bank card, under the window to the mare. "Will there be anything else, Ms. Ever Ring?"

"No, you've been a great help, Matthew. Thanks." She replied with a small, polite smile and put away the rest of her things. "Hope to see you around."

I managed out a "Have a good day" to her before she turned and left, exiting the bank. "Next customer please." I then say, and a woman steps forward with a slip and her bank card.

I've probably never had a worse hangover than the one I had yesterday. It's not even headaches that are the worst part; those had already passed after I got myself a good breakfast and drank nearly a gallon of water before sluggishly returning to my room to dress up. No, it was the grogginess and muscle soreness.

After Raven left, I cleaned up the clothes on the floor and threw them into my hamper then began to dress up for work. After ten minutes of sluggish movement and feeling sick and dizzy from said movement, I then realized that I didn't have work. How silly of me. So I fell back onto the mattress, forgetting about the still-wet splooge stain that then ruined my dress pants.

Besides a perilous trip to the commons area for another shower and then dinner several hours after falling asleep again, that was, in a nutshell, how I spent my day off yesterday.

After the last in a long line of customers left the bank I felt a slap on my back. I knew full well who it was behind me without needing to turn around and confirm. "Hey. You looked like you had a blast the other night." Becky said, cheerful and friendly as ever.

Being reminded of what happened that time at the club, but more importantly the following morning, my thoughts turn broody. In fact I say in a more depressed manner than I meant to, "I don't wanna talk about it." Rather than address her directly I chose to look out at the empty bank floor, ready for non-existent customers.

Her hand grasped my shoulder and whirled me around to face her. A concerned look had made Becky furrow her eyes and make her lips pout slightly. "Did...you get shut down, or something?"

"No I didn't. And...that's sort of the problem."

Her expression turned happy again and she even laughed a bit. "Oh." She said as though she understood my problem and wearing a smile, the brunette went so far as to shake her head. "Don't worry about not having protection, Matt!"

"It's not that!"

She pouted her lips out cutely and asked, "The not getting STDs or can't get her pregnant part?"

I feel myself bristle at her misunderstanding. "Neither of those! I didn't want to get that far at all. Hell, I only kept going because I thought she was you!"

Hearing my confession she raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I know my sultry looks can have that effect on men, but why'd you think I'd go all the way with you? We only just met that morning."

I'm taken aback by her straightforward reply. And it doesn't take long for me to feel as though I've been acting like a typical sex-obsessed bro of some kind and stammered to explain myself. "Well...yeah, but...Becky-..."

"Nuh uh." She frowns and cuts me off. "You've lost your privilege to call me that for one whole week, mister."

The momentum thus remains in Becky's favor and I'm stuck reacting to her as I try to figure out what just happened. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously." She scowled as I continued to mutely stare at her and quite unexpectedly she lightly punched my arm. "Hey now, I'm not some easy lay that'll just let any cute guy that comes around to get into my panties, Matt."

Would I be an ass to wonder what that makes Raven? And it wasn't like she was wearing panties, either. If it weren't for Clip Clop's sensitivity seminar I definitely would have been thrown for a loop about how naked the ponies around here are.

"By the way, I'm still going to call you Matt."

"Whatever." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger. I've just been under too much stress lately to try impressing everyone by acting cool or aloof anymore.

"And for future reference, just because a girl is super friendly doesn't mean they have the hots for you, ok? Because this one time-"

"Yeah! I got it." I finally manage to cut her off and luckily I don't suffer any hitting from her as a result.

"Just as long as you do, Matt." Lightly biting her bottom lip, a thought seemed to come to mind. "And so this begs the question..." she started to say, earning my eye contact now. "You totally misunderstood the signals I was setting up for Raven, huh?"

My eyes grew even wider in disbelief as I thought back to all of the strangely friendly gestures and mannerisms that Becky was doing. Emphasizing that Raven was cute or being very forward about inviting me to the club, placing me next to the mare at almost every opportunity while standing on my other side...I pinched my nose bridge again and had to close my eyes over how oblivious I was to what in retrospect should have been obvious. "Honestly? Before you taught me that very important lesson on girls just now, I thought you were flirting with me the other day. I mean, you took me out to dance, didn't you?"

"Oh no..." She gasped and brought her hand to cover her mouth for a moment. In my ongoing sense of self-pity I wasn't sure if she was hiding a look of shock or trying to hold back a laugh at my expense. "That was so she could switch places with me when...you didn't make her cry, did you?"

"I...I don't know." I began to feel exasperated by this point, amazed that I didn't even have the energy to punch a wall since I should have been angry after finding all of this out but somehow wasn't. "She didn't in front of me, at least."

"Hrm. That explains why Giselle was in such a sour mood yesterday, at least."

I was about to wonder aloud why Giselle would be involved when I remembered that they were friends.

'I don't live in Neighagara.' Raven's scornful voice echoed in my thoughts. Yeah that's right, Raven was only in town to visit Giselle, wasn't she? I swallowed the bitter taste of my dickishness down like so much a slice of humble pie. Dick flavored. It's probably the only pie I've had that I don't like. "Didn't realize I inadvertently sparked a feud with her friend by freaking out like I did..."

"Giselle and Raven are more than 'just friends,' Matt. They've been besties since back when they went to school as foals and they spent their whole time as fillies growing up together. They're practically sisters."

"Oh, even better." I sighed from hearing that nice new tidbit of information. What my mind imagined as a customer approaching the counter was probably just my eyes wanting to glance away to temporarily escape for a moment. However when I looked the floor remained void of any human or pony in need of our banking services. "So...should I apologize?" I looked back to her figuring that that was a good place to start to fix the mess my prejudices have put me into.

Becky shifted her stance, crossed her arms and eyed me as though I had just asked the dumbest question in the world. "For being an insensitive asshole?" She rhetorically asked, "Yeah, def. But!" She exclaimed with her hand raised and index finger extended toward the ceiling, "That's gonna have to wait. For one thing, it'll lead to a bad impression of you if you crawl around for forgiveness. At least so soon. There's rules and procedures and junk you have to follow."

"Bad impression with who? It's not like Facebook or Twitter exists here." And how thankful I was that the internet was so limited at the moment in Equestria. "I really don't wanna do the whole drama thing, Becky..." She sent me a withering stare. "...Rebecca."

Becky conceded to my first point, but she then soon explained, "No, but word of mouth gets around pretty quick around here. Especially around our group. Everyone's going to ask you how things went. I mean, the two of you were all over each other at Crash."

My stomach churned and the saliva in my mouth turned sour once more when she said that but it was not enough to make me visibly sick. I cleared my throat and brushed my hair back with both my hands, lightly raking my fingernails along my scalp from my forehead to the nape of my neck.

I very nearly thought back to that night again but Becky slapped my arm and broke me out of my reverie. I eyed the girl standing close to me, seeing that she wore a sympathetic look and that always infectious smile. "C'mon, Pete wants me to show you how to work people's accounts. Learning something new will get your mind off of this for a while."

---

It's Friday night tonight and instead of going out to party like most people my age I planned to stay in. Just wonderful. I didn't feel like having to deal with the possibility of running into Giselle any time soon before I could figure out what it was I going to do about this whole mess, so I respectfully declined Becky's invitation to head to an open mic night with her and the others. Instead I was going to the market for some fresh ice and then go back to the apartment to read or something. Maybe a newspaper, I don't know.

There were no chain stores or supermarkets in Neighagara Falls (yet) so the long street a few blocks from the station where carts of fresh fruits, vegetables, general foodstuffs, and other specialty stores were located required me to do a bit of haggling. In addition to the ice, I found a nice-looking dresser that I could use to put my shirts and such in rather than my luggage. I even managed to get free delivery of the furniture if I also purchased a matching desk and chair. Talk about "Barnyard Bargains," alright.

As I was walking home with a magically-enhanced bag containing a slab of ice in one hand and a little informational pamphlet detailing the modest roots of "Rich's Barnyard Bargains" from a small town called "Ponyville," a man's voiced called out to me from behind.

"Hey, Matt!" He shouted, attracting not only my attention but several passersby on both sides of the street. I looked over to see a smartly dressed dark-skinned man with a long face approach with a smile and a wave pointed at me.

I waved back, recognizing him. "Oh, hey, um...Jef, right?"

His smile grew wider and after I tucked the pamphlet into my pocket we shook hands. I made sure to stop on the outside edge of the sidewalk, to allow ponies and people to pass by without much trouble as we began to catch up. "Yeah. Hey man, how've you been? Remember much from Wednesday night?" He asked, laughing a bit.

"I'm, uh...still gettin' there." I admitted with a self-derisive edge in my chuckle.

"Haha, no doubt. You sure are handling that Booster pretty well for your first time, all things considering. I remember my first time with the stuff. I couldn't get out of bed and had to see a doctor." I gulped and could do nothing else but nod, wondering what the hell that damned "energy drink" was really supposed to be. Just then, Jef's smile turned a bit serious. "Just be careful with Raven, alright? She's not a helplessly sensitive girl, but she has her weak points."

"I'll, uh...I'll keep that in mind." I guess he hasn't heard yet? In any case, there was nothing I wanted more than a change of topic right about now when I noticed again how Jef was dressed. The silky black luster of the material and the quality stitching were both top-notch, fitting in a manner that obviously showed it was tailored specifically for him. "Say...that's a really nice suit. Gucci?"

"Etro, actually." Jef explained. "If you really wanna be impressed I've got a set of bench bespoke Caraceni hanging in my closet. Though I don't get enough occasions in the year to wear it, which makes me a sad panda." He chuckled again while scratching his chin.

"Huh." I said with an appreciative nod. I wasn't terribly familiar with Etro but Caraceni was definitely something I knew about. Hand stitched and made in Italy, only a few shops could say they were part of the Caraceni line and were a special rarity nowadays in that they were considered capable of producing bench bespoke suits, which were literally 'made to order' by a master craftsman. Depending on the quality of materials and the order itself the labor-intensive process would make such suits priced upwards to a few thousand dollars. By comparison my dress shirt, suit jacket, pants, shoes and tie altogether barely went over $300. "You just get off of work?"

"Going to work, actually."

My puzzlement obvious, I glanced at my watch. "This late? What sort of third shift job requires you to dress so well?"

"They're very curious hours, yeah, but totally worth it." Jef gave a vague reply, flashing a cheerful smile.

My interest was perked up by hearing that. Not to mention the two of us seemed to catch a few eyes amidst the mares and women passing us by. While I readily welcome the gawking ladies I tried to ignore the enticed looks of the ponies. "Really? Doing what? You're not a spy or something, are you?"

Jef chuckled at that, a bit more so than I would have expected. "No, but there are some similarities, I guess."

"Really? How?"

"I'm not at liberty to reveal that, sir." Jef said teasingly as he mock-reached into his interior breast pocket before giving me a light slap on my arm with a boisterous laugh.

Moving the bag of ice from one hand to another to give my arm some rest I tried to coax a better explanation out of him. "Come on, now I'm curious."

He glanced at something across the street but I paid no mind, instead trying to figure out what it was he meant. "Sorry, but I'm actually running a bit late." Jef explained, quickly glancing at his own watch for a moment. "Tell you what. Why don't we hang out some time? You're at the bank apartments, yeah?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Alright. I'm sharing a house not too far from there. You and me should hit the town...but responsibly."

I couldn't help but crack a smile despite myself. We shook hands again and exchanged our final pleasantries. "Sure, Jef. I'll see you around."

"Alright, see ya, Matt." Letting a woman and pony pair pass us by he started walking across the street to the carriage that had pulled over sometime during our conversation. A team of pegasus stallions were at the front of the dark colored cabin, taking note of Jef as he approached it. As though hearing my thoughts he looked back over his shoulder. "My ride." He said plainly as he opened the door then stepped inside.

I gawked a bit more as the carriage remained across the street for a minute then after they apparently got some signal, the lead driver directed the other pegasi to pull the carriage down the street and around the corner.

Heading back to the bank-owned apartments I went to my mailbox to see if I got anything. So far the amount of junk mail has been as minimal as the computer usage here in Equestria, but one should never downplay the persistence of advertisers and businesses to attract new customers. Of the four buildings that comprised the motel-sized complex, the superintendent and his wife were the only ones with a residency in the community-use building. The superintendent being the grumpy-looking stallion that had picked me up from the station when I first arrived, and his wife, the kindly old mare who cooked the meals for everyone, with help of course.

In each building the Super had a mailbox reserved for him for each building's residents to place suggestions and comments.

For everyone else mail could be picked up in the mail room in the east corridor of the community building. There were three rectangular-shaped blocs of mailboxes in the wall grouped up by each of the three buildings in the common mail room. All in all there were sixty-four mailboxes, the Superintendent's multiple boxes included.

Besides the welcoming letter that had been there since I first arrived there was nothing in my mail box. Not even anything from friends or family back home. Oh well. Since I was able to do some catching up through email my first night in Equestria it would make sense that that would be the more likely way to keep track of everyone. And so with that now out of the way I picked up the magically-enhanced ice bag, now getting a bit damp, to rest in my room.

Of course entering the mail corridor just as I was a few steps away a certain blue colored, orange maned pony appeared. While staying silent Giselle sent a furious glance my way then turned to leave without going to check her mail. Walking with heavy hoof steps against the floor. s

'Tsk. I don't need this high school bullshit.' I thought to myself and called out to the pony before she pushed the door open. "Giselle, let's be mature adults about this and talk."

She stopped in place and looked over her shoulder, sending me a stink eye like before.

I clicked my tongue in irritation. "What's your problem, Giselle?"

Even with the distance between us I noticed the twitch of her eye in response to my question. "My problem?" She asked with a growling undertone. "My problem is that you've gotten yourself at the top of my shit list, buster. And trust me. You won't enjoy the fact that I'll be watching you."

"I'll be sure to start wearing pants at all times, then." I snap out despite myself. I bite my tongue and shake my head. "You know what? That was stupid of me. I don't wanna escalate things beyond what's already happened." I had no problem swallowing my pride since I just wanted to get this over and done with. "Is there any way I can get you to stop being angry with me, Giselle?"

"Yeah. There is." The pony said in a more even tone. With a measured gait Giselle walked closer to me until there was just a few feet between us. "I want you to apologize to Raven." She said after a moment of contemplation.

"Alright." I nodded and agreed. Now there was just the matter of finding out where Raven liv-...

"I want you to grovel over how sorry you are that you took advantage of her."

My eyebrows crease downwards instantly. "Excuse me, but I was dru-..." I'm stopped from putting a word in edgewise when she juts her hoof upwards at me.

"Yeah, excuse you. I don't give two shits if you were plastered that night, because it's not my fault that you don't know how to drink alcohol like a big boy. You're just lucky that you can't get her knocked up and that she wasn't physically injured, otherwise I'd have galloped all over town to find you and trampled your tiny dick into the ground as soon as Raven came to me yesterday morning even more shook up and pitiful-looking than when she caught her boyfriend cheating on her last week."

How was I supposed to know that she had a shitty boyfriend? And it's not like I ever meant for things to have happened the way they did. I make an exaggerated gulp, trying to keep my temper in check. "Why are you even telling me this?"

"To hammer in the fact that you're a shithead." She quickly responded. "So that's what you can do to make me stop being angry at you. Or you could let me break every bone in your body, but you'd still have to apologize to Raven."

"Alright." I breathe in and out. "Ok." In, "Fine." Out. Through sheer force of will I keep myself from saying the first thing that came to my head and am able to remain as diplomatic as I could in this situation. "...if I do that, if I go and apologize to Raven...you'll stop being a bitch?" I said this with smoldering hate aimed at this pony, hoping that she'd burst into flames under my stare.

With a sneer she extended her hoof toward me and did a little bow, "Ladies first." And with that she walked away and pushed the door open, leaving me to stew in my anger.

"The...fuck just happened?" I asked aloud to no one in particular.

Aren't ponies supposed to be all sugary sweet and love everything? That want to find a peaceful, thought-out solution rather than resort to violence or attack others?

So why'd Giselle have to bite my head off like that?

Besides, I don't even know where Raven lives. So how the fuck am I supposed to apologize, which I was going to do anyway, if that crazy pony won't even tell me where to find the one that's supposed to be upset at me?

I can't even think anymore without wanting to punch something. Or a certain someone. It's just pure luck that I wasn't going to go out tonight since my mood has just turned completely shitty. Instead of heading over to Giselle's apartment to find out where Raven is, (I don't even know which room is Giselle's! Fuck me!) I decided to sleep on it and headed to my room, hoping that the deadbolt would hold in case she ever tried bucking down my front door to make good on her promise.

Author's Notes:

I really ought to update my other stories...

I hope y'all enjoyed this chap. In return for such a positive reception to the first one from all of you I just wanted to put something out all quick-like...to raise the tension and make it that much harder a wait for the next part of the story.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BdvUR67nZs0

Honestly, all my thanks and huggles to those who faved/thumbs up/started stalking me.