It was a typical Thursday. A stereotypical Thursday, really. As per usual, the teenagers of Ponyland were doing the types of things they normally did: soccer practice until four thirty, spending time studying at the library, eating snacks, and the like.
"This is truly magnificent," Bright Eyes commented. She was a taller girl than average, and was clothed in a denim jacket, a pair of long, worn jeans, and a pink cap. She was standing in the clean, almost sterile, environment of the Ponyland Aeronautic Museum and looking at a collection of wires and buttons all over a large, metal fan-like machine. "A true Boeing engine, the one used on the long-missing Chǎng plane."
Lancer, her date, admired the model. He wore a medium blue jacket, a red V-neck t-shirt, and jeans. "Yeah. Says here it took them seven years to locate." He tapped the plaque beneath the display.
"Truly amazing." Bright Eyes was rapt in the sight of the true model of the aero-scientists of the 1960s. Her pink eyes glittered a bit as she read the fine print on the plaque. "And the picture on here was taken by William Smith himself. Incredulous!"
"Yeah. This is quite the bit of history. I was just reading yesterday how hard it was to develop. And the fact that W. Eugene Smith took the picture is really cool." Lancer was trying to hide the silly grin that came across his features at that. He was a big fan of photography and those who practiced the art of taking photographs.
"It isn't just a bit of history, it is one of the strongest engines of our time." Bright Eyes shook her head, practically pushing her face against the glass (but shielding her face from the germs with her hands).
"That too. And it is pretty historic…" Lancer said, admittedly not knowing much more on the engine. Or on pretty much anything else at the museum. He didn't want to tell Bright Eyes, but he wasn't too knowledgeable, nor interested, in aerospace or aeronautical stuff. It wasn't even nautical..
After a good ten minutes of just standing there, Lancer asked, awkwardly, "S-Should we look at something else?"
"In a minute…" Bright Eyes said, still entranced by the engine.
Lancer sighed and leaned up against the exhibit's thick plastic, his dark blue eyes wandering boredly around the area. The museum was pretty much just one large room with an office and administrative stuff in the middle. Model planes and jets hung all over the ceiling, restrained by steel chains. Lancer always couldn't help the feeling that they were going to fall on them.
"Don't you ever feel like those big heavy planes are going to cave in on the ceiling?" Lancer asked, partially to himself.
"No, of course not. The ceilings of this place are constructed with all sorts of hidden steel beams, about six inches in diameter. It'd take a lot more than planes hanging from the ceiling to make it cave in. That's part of the reason that it's used as a hurricane shelter."
"...Oh." Lancer sighed, he didn't really NEED an answer, but, of course, Bright Eyes needed to explain everything, and subsequently make him feel stupid.
After about another five minutes, Bright Eyes finally stopped looking at the exhibit. "Okay, so, what next?" Lancer asked, grateful to leave the engine he didn't know anything about.
"I can show you some of those steel beams," Bright Eyes replied, smiling with the thrill of explaining something to someone else.
"Um… No thank you."
Bright Eyes looked confused, "Oh, well, maybe we can go into the next display room?"
"Uh… sure, I guess." Lancer wasn't really sure how he felt about continuing to go through the museum any more. It was really starting to bore him, and feeling that way made him feel so guilty. What kind of friend didn't do those things with their friend? And what if Bright Eyes got upset?
"Is something wrong, Lancer?" Bright Eyes prompted.
Great, now she could tell something was wrong. And knowing her, she wouldn't take "I'm fine" for an answer. "I feel a little bit ill," he said, putting his arms together behind his back. It felt wrong lying to Bright Eyes. "I would really like to go home now, i-if that's okay with you."
"Oh, alright, fine." Bright Eyes heaved a massive sigh. "I have some observations to make on the local pond anyway, you can just drop me there."
"A-Are you sure?" Lancer asked, unable to feel a twinge of apprehension. It couldn't have been safe to go sleep there without anyone with her, or without any equipment. "It could be dangerous."
He knew he'd said the wrong thing the moment Bright Eyes sighed again, looking annoyed. "I can handle myself, Lancer."
"N-No, that's not what I meant, Bright Eyes, I just… it's in my nature!" That much was true. He never wanted to leave anyone behind, even if they could handle the situation much better than he could.
"Then you should be perfectly fine with dropping me off there, correct?"
"I… Okay."
⁂⁂⁂
Lancer drove his white Lotus Elise sports car past the old, shadowy schoolhouse, which looked quite eerie in the dark, and over to the wetland area just four blocks away. The centerpiece was, as Bright Eyes said, Pony Pond.
"Thank you bunches, Lancer. This is all for the environment's sake." The cyan girl leaned over and kissed his cheek quickly before slinging an olive green backpack over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow. Hope you get to feeling better."
"Thanks… See ya.
With that, Bright Eyes waved before running out to the darkness.
Unbeknownst to Bright Eyes, the kiss didn't leave a nice feeling in Lancer's stomach. It felt like some kind of poison on his cheek, something that seeped through his skin and into his stomach, where it burned him up like acid rain to statues. Sulfuric acid to be exact, it has very high corrosive power, chirped an inner Bright Eyes.
The final correction was enough to get him to feel legitimately sick.
As he drove back the way he came, he glanced back over his shoulder more times than he was comfortable counting. His ears sagged. Would it hurt her to let me be right for a change? he couldn't help thinking. Or could she at least be able to be a little bit dependent on me once?
At the same time, thinking that way made him feel guilty, because Bright Eyes wouldn't like it…
He turned at a few more intersections, drove a good five miles under the speed limit, and lamented his unright relationship more.
Things had been just fine when they were younger! Normally they just read in the library on their "dates," but Bright Eyes still acted like she had a tiny bit of a crush on him for some time...
Nowadays, even when they were supposed to be reading their novels peacefully under the cherry tree at his house, Bright Eyes would still always read faster than him, asked him trivia questions he didn't know the answer to, or ignored him when he spoke.
I wouldn't ignore you if you spoke up a little bit.
Lancer frowned even more as he internally added, And she's constantly in my head!
The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he got. Did he need to take all this? No. You know what? He was a person too, he had freedom of will, as established in the Ponyland Constitution of the 1920s!
It was the 1820s!
"Gha!" Lancer suddenly pulled the car to a stop right in the middle of the desolate road. He glanced around rapidly, as if expecting Bright Eyes to appear Spiderman-style outside his car window. Then he groaned.
He couldn't live like this, with the constant correction. It was becoming more and more apparent that Bright Eyes just wasn't right for him.
Ohhh… He was going to break the news to her tomorrow. That's what he'd do.
⁂⁂⁂
First period, history. Lancer sat at his desk, near the entrance to the classroom, glancing around nervously. The teacher explained to the class all about the Medieval Cession, wherein the islands of Pony were bought by some rich guy who looked so similarly to Lancer that they could have been brothers. He couldn't even remember which country it was it'd been bought from; it was somewhere in Europe.
He really stunk at history.
Most of the class were really getting into it, despite the fact that history was not a generally popular subject. It was common knowledge that the Medieval Cession had led to some bloody civil wars as the country came to be, and wars tended to be the one thing that sparked interest in the classroom.
But all Lancer could focus on was Bright Eyes. She wasn't even in the classroom at that second, but how to break up with her had been the question boring a hole in his brain and his stomach for the past three days. He'd chickened out after the museum thing.
Maybe he just needed to talk to someone, get some advice.
But who?
Naturally, Sweetheart was the best option. She actually understood Lancer, like she somehow understood everybody. He wouldn't see her until fourth-period science, though… He was sure he would just explode if he had to wait until then.
In first period, Ace and Teddy were both there. Teddy was rapt in something at the back of the room: folding a paper airplane, and Ace was paying polite attention to Mr. Rogers at the front of the room.
But they'd just laugh!
That went for Patch, too. She loved history, and wouldn't want the post-war discussion euphoria to be shunted in favor of his romances.
Whenever he told Clover about something, it seemed like it got out to the public ear, somehow. He guessed that the girl with the pink collared shirt on that day was just as clumsy with secrets as she was with anything else in life.
Starlight wasn't there that day, she had a case of the sniffles, and it would have been weird to approach Melody during that hour; even if it often had partner work. He never spoke to Melody about anything, after all…
He didn't see any of his other friends, like Bon Bon, until fourth…
Sweetheart it is.
⁂⁂⁂
The day passed by like torturous molasses. Lancer was counting his blessings, though, because he hadn't spoken to Bright Eyes like his luck would have it. And mercifully, he'd be seeing Sweetheart next period, things were starting to look up.
He rushed to his next class, gleefully NOT catching Bright Eyes on his way. She was in more advanced science classes than he was, so she was nowhere to be seen.
"Sweetheart!" he called out.
The girl in the zipped-up pink jacket and white skirt turned around. She beamed upon seeing who called for her from across the classroom. "Oh, hi Lancer."
"Hey. Can I talk to you? I need some advice."
"Sure, Lancer. What is it?"
There was the sound of a pencil tapping glass. "Class, turn to page two hundred and ninety and read about nuclear fission."
Lancer grimaced at the sound of the tough topic. He and Sweetheart went up to one of the buddy-up lab tables and wordlessly took seats. Because there was normally a lot of talking in science class, with the ponies sitting next to each other and sharing books on generally boring subjects, Lancer continued. "Um... I'm... Er..." Lancer took a deep breath. This was harder than he thought. Finally, "I need help with romance."
Sweetheart's eyebrows went up. "Ooh, you aren't doing what I think you're doing, are you?"
"That depends… What do you-"
"You need help proposing!" The minute Sweetheart said it, she broke out into wild giggles. She tried and failed to stifle them.
Lancer's jaw fell down. Proposal? WHAT?
He looked over at Sweetheart, who was still giggling.
"Erm... No. Actually, it's the opposite."
Sweetheart stopped laughing after an aftershock or two. "You're wanting to break up?"
There was a definite note of disappointment in her voice. Lancer wondered if, perhaps, Sweetheart hadn't been the best one to go to… She COULD give good advice, but she also got really emotionally attached to relationships. "Erm... Yeah..." Lancer glanced back at his book, hoping to maybe distract her with the work they should have been doing. "Nuclear fission…"
"Why are you wanting to break up?" Sweetheart questioned, still sounding sad.
Is it too late to get Melody to give me advice?! Lancer groaned, "I just... I don't think we're working out."
"Nuclear fission is the splitting of atoms… Are you sure you aren't splitting a perfectly good relationship?" Sweetheart had those puppy eyes in, the ones that brought about the oft-used phrase to describe a heinous action, like kicking Sweetheart.
He lightly groaned, "Sweetheart, I just don't think we were meant to be. I don't feel right around her. She constantly corrects me, and, it's getting really bad. I feel like I hear her in my head, and… my sense of self-worth is just really being damaged. There are some other reasons too."
"Ohhh, and I was so sure I would get to plan your wedding…" Sweetheart shuddered, as if something inside of her was dying. "Have you tried to talk about your issues with Bright Eyes?"
Lancer knew it; Sweetheart would have a difficult time letting go. Even more difficult than he or Bright Eyes, most likely. "Whenever I bring it up, she doesn't listen."
"But, if you're in love, shouldn't you overlook her flaws?"
"Sweetheart… it's not true love, it just isn't."
"You've been together for years, it MUST be true love! You've dealt with so much together."
Lancer sighed. Sweetheart was like the little sister of any group: him and her, her and Starlight's gang, and even her and Teddy. She was the youngest, but normally the most mature… yet there were those times she was zealous about something, and sometimes it was cute, but occasionally it got out of hand…
"Sweetheart, it's like the relationship gone wrong in a book. You are stuck through commitment and no love, and someone feels oppressed… Think of it as opening up new opportunities."
Sweetheart sort-of pouted for a moment before replying. "...Okay. But only if you're sure."
"I am."
"Okay. The most important thing in any relationship is just telling the truth! There's really truly nothing to be gained from telling a lie, even the teensiest white one. If she wants to she can try and fix the problem, and she'll know you're being serious about it, and you can still get married to her, but you would have a happy relationship. But if not, you'll have a peaceful breakup."
Sweetheart had said it all in practically one breath. Lancer blinked several times, and then fumbled around for a pen and post-it note. Tell the truth, he wrote quickly. He didn't trust himself to not forget about it, after all. "Any other advice?"
"Well, you should probably point out why you're uncomfortable first, then she might really, truly change for you."
Lancer's neat, but clearly rushed writing followed that. He looked expectantly up at the girl. "Well, anything else?"
"Well…"
"Lancer!" Mr. Test Tube interrupted, startling Lancer. "Now's not the time for talking with your classmates. The same for you, Sweetheart. Unless… can you tell me about nuclear fission?"
Ohh, why do they always single me out? Lancer internally bemoaned. Not missing a beat, Sweetheart brightly said, "Nuclear fusion is the splitting of atoms."
"Huh, very impressive, Sweetheart," Mr. Tube replied, looking pleasantly surprised. The girl was one of his favorite pupils; unlike most, Sweetheart liked learning about her teachers, not to get better grades, but because that was what she liked to do.
He turned sharply to Lancer. "And I don't suppose YOU, Lancer, could explain as well as Sweetheart… could you?"
Lancer thought for a moment, then said, "It's… Like breaking up with your girlfriend?"
Despite having been talking animatedly before, several members of the class broke out into giggles. Mr. Tube's eyes narrowed. "Now, boy, I don't need any more of that clowning business, I had enough of that from that Aber kid last period. Write me a paragraph on nuclear fission, including how it is done, by the end of the period, or you'll have detention like she does."
Lancer sighed, "Yes sir…"
⁂⁂⁂
Narrowly escaping staying after class, Lancer was now on his way to what he dreaded most: Lunch. The eight period day normally had lunch as one of the things he loved most, because he got an hour break along with the thirty minutes for eating (with the fifth period he had being his study hall).
But this time, it felt terrible. He couldn't face Bright Eyes today, nor any of her friends. There was no way he wanted to deal with Ace or Teddy or, luck forbid, both of them at once. He might have been able to wait to tell Bright Eyes and save himself from the landslide reaction afterwards, but Sweetheart… she wouldn't let that go. She didn't believe in hesitating to tell the truth, even if it was really him wanting to find the right time.
So he snuck through the lunch line. The lunch lady happened to like him a lot, and was normally pretty enthusiastic about seeing him, because he cared about how she was doing, so he had to dash right out to avoid the attention of his peers. "Hey Lancer!"
Lancer kept up his running, just hoping that he didn't get noticed. But then, the sound of someone breaking out in a run behind him got him to freeze up, inwardly groaning.
He turned around to see Clover pursuing him. She gasped and ended up tumbling to the floor, landing right near Lancer.
He bowed his knees a bit and helped her to her feet.
Clover brushed some hair out of her face, while also trying to block out a blush. "Thank you, Lancer."
"No problem. Um… If you don't mind, I need to get going."
"But why? We wanted to talk to you today, Lancer." Clover sounded, and looked, pretty sad. She was the other one of the girls who was blessed with the ability to make puppy-dog eyes that worked, even in high school years. "We had so much to tell you about!"
"Um… Can you maybe call me later? I really just need some time to myself. It's personal."
"Huh? And why's that, tough guy?" Patch suddenly appeared, almost smirking. She'd evidently just gotten her lunch and stepped out right behind Clover.
Clover parroted back to her, "Because it's personal."
"Ah…" Patch was now definitely smirking, "'Bout you and Bright Eyes?"
Lancer swallowed, he couldn't let her know that it was ACTUALLY about Bright Eyes. "It's none of your business, it's, um…"
"No need to be ashamed, Lance," Patch said. She spoke all about romance as if she had actually experienced it. It didn't irritate him, but it made him wonder how many of the rumors surrounding that very subject were true… "You should tell us about your problems, we're your friends."
"Patch, he already said it was personal," Clover replied.
"Ehh… I was just offering."
"She is right, though. If you need us, just let us know." Clover smiled warmly.
"Okay, I'll keep that in… mind…"
He took a good look at their grinning faces before leaving, unable to shake the feeling that he was going to end up followed. It was perfectly within Patch's style, after all.