[Copied from https://pastebin.com/TSPcbjN2]

>A door slams, hard, and then silence.
>You stay hidden.
>It had lasted a full hour, Master and Mistress had entered an argument, again, but this time it went really bad.
>You chose to hide as soon as the yelling had started, rushing into a closet, closing fast the door behind you.
>You don't speak French, but you didn't have to to understand they were breaking up.
>They had bought you a week ago, but you already could tell something like that would happen soon, albeit not this soon.
>They really didn't seem that happy together anyway.
>But now your situation is uncertain, who left? Who is going to have you from now? Will you be sent back to the store?
>You perk your ears and slightly crack open the door.
>Somehuman is sobbing, sounds like Master.
>Pros: You prefer him than her.
>Cons: He's now a womanless male.
>Pros again: You don't think he's like that, so maybe he won't try and have his way with you to compensate his loss.
>Maybe...
>You leave the closet anyway, and slowly walk to him.
>He's sitting on the couch, head in hands.
>He quickly perks up to the sound of your hooves on the tiles, and looks up.
>His face is still red from the yelling, and his eyes are shedding tears continuously.
>"V-Vinyl? Get off, I don't want to see you."
>You hesitate, sure he asked you to go away, but you have the feeling he doesn?t really mean it.
>Also he has been nothing but nice to you until now, so you also want to be nice to him, and help him.
>"What? You don't understand english either?" he says, before rubbing a tissue on his face.
"I understand, Master. Is there... anything, I can do for you?"
>He blows his nose and takes a deep, shaky breath before answering you.
>"Ouais... If you could... see what is hers, and put it in a box. Thank you."
>You nod.
>He gets up and heads toward the stairs.
>"I'm going to my room, just leave me alone, please."
>You watch him go, and put yourself to work.


>You wake up the next morning, but not to the sound of footsteps against the wooden stair steps.
>You just wake up on your own? Odd. Did you not hear Master going to work?
>Then you think about yesterday. Did he go to work at all?
>You throw your blanket away and get out of your basket.
>What are you supposed to do now?
>See if he's here?
>You would have to enter his bedroom for that.
>And the bedroom is a no-go zone, since Mistress do not want to find your fur on her bed.
>But Mistress isn't here anymore... would Master allow you then?
>If he doesn?t, you could earn a beating.
>He hasn't done that to you yet, but it's been only one week, and you did nothing wrong until now.
>Again, if you enter his room and wake him up, he could be mad at you for waking him up too early.
>But he's supposed to work today, even with what happened yesterday, right?
>What if he gets mad at you for letting him oversleep on a work day?
>You don't like that.
>The last time you found yourself in such a situation, you earned some broken ribs.
>Granted, your previous Master was an asshole.
>You escaped and cut off your ear to not be found with the chip they put in it.
>Proved useless because they can still identify you with your cutie-mark, but you were lucky enough to meet an awesome vet. The dude didn't ditch you to the cops and instead helped you get away from the country. Well, kind of.
>He sold you to this friend of his, who created fake papers for you to be sent by boat to the other side of the sea and sold again at a greater price.
>It wasn't pleasant, but still better than to be killed by some psychotic monkey because you gave him pepsi instead of coke.
>But reminiscing on this wasn't going to help with the situation at hoof.
>So after some thinking, you decide to go upstairs, being extra careful of not making too much noise with your hooves, and get closer to the door.
>As quietly as you can, you press on the handle and ajar the door just so you could glance at the bed inside.
>"What are you doing?"
>Your blood freezes the moment you hear the sluggish voice of Master.
>"Vinyl?"
>Shaking yourself, you answer the best you can.
"Sorry to wake you up, Master, but I didn't see you this morning, and I was worried you would miss work."
>You hear him grunt as he rolls over to sit on the edge of his bed.
>"Naaaaan, I'm not going today, Vinyl," he says, yawning his first word.
"Hum, should I make you some coffee, Master?"
>He takes some time rubbing his hands on his face, humming while he's making up his mind.
>"Coffee sound good right now, yes please."
>Happy to not have drawn his wrath, you walk back down the stairs and to the kitchen.
>The brew's done just when he gets out of his room.
>Propped up on your hind legs to have better access to the kitchen's counter, you see him stepping into the living room, wearing nothing but his underpants. You blush.
"A-Are you not cold, Master?" You ask as he take a sit.
>Scratching his beard, he raises a brow at you.
>"What, I'm single, I can dress how I want now."
>You pour his drink and bring it to him.
"Of course, sorry Master."
>He thanks you and takes a sip. He smiles.
>No milk, two sugars. This is the kind of things you have to know quickly about your Master if you want to please them.
>"I'm going to put on some clothes, ok. I'll also send a mail to my boss, then we're going to the store. We need to fill the fridge."
"Alright, Master."
>He grabs his phone, that he had tucked in the band of his underpants, and takes his time to drink.
>You let him be and go make your own breakfast. Once done you trot up to your basket with your bowl balanced on one hoof, and set it down onto the small stool Mistress set up for you to eat.
>"What are you doing, Vinyl?"
>You look at Master, head tilted to the side.
"I'm having breakfast?"
>"No, I mean why don't you eat here, on the table?"
"Hum, well, Mistress told-"
>"Fuck her, we don't care anymore about what she told you, you can eat on the fucking table with me!"
>You're a bit startled by his sudden outburst, but you comply and move your bowl to go sit in front of him.
>"Listen, everything she told you doesn't matter anymore, you can eat with me on the table, you can climb on the couch, you can..."
>He then looks at the basket.
>"You?re comfortable in that?"
>You shrug.
"I had much worse, it's kind of nice I guess."
>"Yeah well I think you're going to sleep on the couch from now on. Do as you please, okay? You can do whatever you want. I can do whatever I want!"
>Odd, you can't remember mixing his coffee with energy drink and protein shakes, but he sure is excited and well woken-up now.
>"I don't need her anyway. Got you to take care of the house, and the internet and my fucking hand to take care of the rest. Okay!"
>He not-so-gently put down his empty mug and get up.
>"I'm going to get dressed, then we go to the store, be ready."


>You walk close to Master, following him everywhere in the store.
>This store is big, but you seen way bigger ones back in the U.S..
>It's like everything here is smaller.
>Smaller stores, smaller buildings, smaller cars...
>Well, you hope for them not everything is smaller.
>You can't help but giggle at this thought.
>"What is it Vinyl?"
"Nothing Master!" you answer too hastily.
>"Well, I have to queue up for the cheese, could you go and grab the butter? It's there, take the blue one, 500 grams."
>He wants you to go alone in the store?
"Are you sure I can go on my own in here Master?" You ask uncomfortably.
>He rolls his eyes.
>"I'm just here, it's not that far, please go."
"Alright, Master..."
>You go and trot toward the aisle he showed you.
>He's right, it's not that far, you can still see here from there. Plus, you have your collar on with his phone number on it, it's going to be fine.
>You stop in front of the display where the butter is.
>...
>Why is there so many different type of butter?!
>Ok, he told you to pick the blue one of 500 grams.
>There are three different ones!
>Which one does he want?
>You feel you can't just pick one at random, a society with this much different kind of butter must take this subject very seriously, you can't just pick one hoping everything will be fine.
>Suddenly, as you're lost in thoughts, a knee hits you in the ribs, and you feel the weight of a human falling over you.
>You done fucked up, again.
>A woman is laying on the floor, so are you, and everyone in the aisle is staring at the both of you now.
>If it weren't for them, you would have run away already. But there is no point to flee when there are this many witnesses.
>The woman gets up and reaches for her phone, on which she was typing when she tripped over you.
>It's not your fault, you didn't see her coming. It was she who didn't look where she was going.
>Unfortunately, she his a human, and you're just a pony.
>She looks at her phone, and say something you don't understand.
>"Putain, il est cassé !"
>She turn to you  and shove the broken screen of her phone in your face, yelling something else.
"S-Sorry, je pas p-parler Française," you stutter, trying your best at speaking French.
>Keep cool, she won't hurt you, she can't. Only Master has the right to.
>As if on cue, she raise her hand, making you flinch. But she doesn't hit you right away, she say:
>"Où est ton maître !?"
>So here is one word you know: Maître. She want to see your master.
>You take a quick look around, searching for him. He fittingly is making his way toward you right now, obviously drawn by the commotion.
>"Vinyl? What's happening?"
>The woman then turns her attention to him and the both of them start having an argument.
>All the while you do your best to not draw attention on you, head and ear low, staring intently at the ground.
>Eventually, the discussion comes to an end, and you hear the women spit a last insult at Master before walking away.
>You don't dare to move yet.
>"C'mon Vinyl." Master says, grabbing a brick of butter at random before going back to his shopping list.
>You follow him, but you keep your head low. Because of you, Master had to got into an argument, he probably wasn't so happy about it...
>You get closer to him, and take a deep breath.
"Master?"
>He turn his head down to you, you have his attention.
"I'm sorry about that, I didn't see her, an-"
>He shush you with a flick of his hand. 
>"Don't, this dumb bitch should have looked where she was going. Beside, it's my fault too, I shouldn't have let you go alone in a place like this."
>You don't really know what to think. He is nice, he doesn?t abuse you, he treats you almost like his equal. You should be happy about that, finally, somehuman having consideration for the being you are. And yet...
>... it doesn't sound right. You feel out of place, you are his slave for bucks sake, he shouldn't treat you so well!
>Wait, since when have you started thinking like this?
>You suddenly feel Master's hand slide behind your intact ear, and feel him scratching softly.
>You raise your eyes to see him smiling at you.
>"Hey, it's ok."
>You can't help but smile.
>"Come on," he says, taking hold of the trolley he had left in this aisle. "We got everything, let's go."
>You follow after him. He turns and go through the candy aisle, then stops.
>"Hey Vinyl, want some candies?"
>You raise your brow.
"Master, this is nice of you but, I'm not a filly anymore."
>"Do I look like a child?"
"No?"
>"Watch me."
>He randomly grabs two bags and carelessly tosses them in the trolley.
>He stares at you, you stare back.
>"So?"
>You look to the wall of sweets, and spot a green bag on which is drawn a head with flames as a mohawk. Cool.
"Those?" you say, pointing a hoof to the bag.
>He pick it and, taking a look at it, chuckles.
>"Têtes brûlées? Eh, good choice."
>The bag is thrown like the two others, and the both of you continue toward the checkout.

-----

>You're emptying the bags in the fridge, doing your best to be as fast as you can without dropping anything.
>Letting the fridge open too long isn't good.
>Master drops the last bag aside the others.
>"Don't bother with the beer, just put three or four in the fridge, the others goes under the sink."
"Yes, Master!"
>He bends down and grabs a beer, then put it in the freezer. He looks down at you, hesitating.
>"You drink?"
>You stop in your work and look up at him, uncertain of what to answer. You try your luck.
"Hu... yes?"
>Your voice was barely audible, but Master seems to have caught it all the same.
>He grabs a second bottle and stores it alongside the other in the freezer.
>You smile like a doofus, you hadn't drank anything alcoholic since you arrived on earth.
>You're far from being an alcoholic, but you missed it.
>As you get back to work, Master walks away toward the couch. He slumps on it and put on the TV.
>There are two bags left full of groceries, but there is well enough storage in the kitchen, and none of them is too much out of your reach.
>Once done, you take a look at the clock: 12:16. 
>You trot to the couch where Master is sitting.
>He turn his head to you, visibly expecting you to say something.
"Would you like something to eat, Master?"
>He waves his hand. "No, I'll skip. Eat what you want."
>You do not insist and trot back to the kitchen.
>With a packed fridge you can basically make yourself whatever you wish.
>But you're a lazy shit at times, so you just grab an apple and return to the couch.
>You sit on the floor, not far from Master, and munch quietly on your treat while watching the TV.
>Looks like the news. The pictures show a mob filling the streets, brandishing signs and banners.
>You have no clue what this is about, but some signs are depicting a human silhouette alongside a pony one, a pink earth circling them... but also with a red cross over the whole picture.
>All of a sudden another group of humans, wearing scarfs and goggles appears from a side-street. These ones are wielding wooden planks and crowbars, and start hitting anyhuman from the other group on their reach.
>"Connards..." Mutter Master.
>"These fuckers don't even care about the ponies, they just want to fight."
>On the screen, police forces are pinning down some people, both pros and anti regardless.
>"The next election will be about whether or not the ponies should be free, for sure."
>You both look at the screen for some more seconds, before you gather up the courage to ask him the question.
"What is your opinion on the matter, Master?"
>You flinch a bit when he turns his gaze to you, his brow slightly furrowed in both annoyance and deep thought.
>"I'll be honest, Vinyl. I don't know."
>You don't say anything else. You just go back to watching the TV, now showing humans in expensive suits shaking hands.
>Master suddenly stands up.
>"Alright! What about a movie? Your pick." He says, grabbing the remote and putting Netflix on screen. He then hands you the remote and walks toward the kitchen.
>Dumbfounded, you stare at the object between your hooves, then at the screen, then back at the remote.
"What? I choose? But..."
>He comes back with the two bottles he put in the freezer, and the bags of candies.
>"Yeah, anything, I don't mind. We can put the audio in english too."
>Scrunching your face, you look at the screen, and start browsing.
>You really have no idea what he want you to choose, so you take a look at the suggestions for his account.
>Yeah no, half of those are war movies, you don't want to see that.
>The comedy section then?
>You quickly find your pick in there.
>"Hey good choice, I have not seen this one in years."
"Oh, you saw it already? Do you want me to choose something else?"
>"No it's fine, I love it. C'mon get on the couch."
>Thus you set the remote on the low table and, casting a glance at Master for his approval, you climb on the couch beside him.
>You don't really feel at ease, Mistress would have murdered you if you got on the couch like this.
>But Master just gave you a smile and an open beer. He clinks his bottle against yours.
>"Santé !"
"Santé..."
>You grab you drink with both hooves and bring it to your lips.
"Haaa..." You let out happily after taking a good, long sip from your beer.
>"I guess yo DO drink, indeed..."
>You give a sheepish smile, sinking deeper in the couch to get more comfortable.
"Thank you, Master. I haven't drank since... a very long time."
>"Yeah, don't think I let you drink with me only to be nice."
>You instantly get less comfortable, and look at him anxiously.
"W-What ?"
>"You're my alibi. As long as I'm with you I can drink: I'm not alone so it's ok!"
>Your smile comes back on your face, and you relax finally.
>The movie is nice, the humour is a bit on the dirty side at times, but you don't really mind, it?s still funny.
>At some point, Master got up to go fetch more beer. You tried to insist on going for him, but he just shoved you back on the couch with a push.
>Master?s behavior is unsettling. While Mistress was here, your purpose was clear: do the small chores, keep the house clean, sometimes cook?
>Now it seems he just uses you for company, maybe to forget her? You?re not really comfortable with that.
>You?re his slave, so sure he can do whatever he wants with you but? acting like his friend sounds messed up.
>He sits back next to you and hand you your second drink, which you still accept gladly.
>You quietly sip on your beer with Master at your side, watching the movie without much thoughts.
>Realy, what is your purpose now? It would be best to know before you goof-up.
>You drink to gather up some courage before asking:
"Master, how are you feeling?"
>Yeah, you?re not asking him straight what's on your mind.
>Yet another lesson you learned the hard way.
>He turns to you, brow raised.
>"We?re talking about feelings now?"
"No, I mean? are you alright? Is there something I can do for you?"
>He grabs a bag of candies, opens it and tosses one to you.
>You grab it mid-flight, and take a look at it. It?s a small bag, on which you recognize the head with a mohawk made out of fire.
>"Taste this." Master says, a smile on his face.
>You try to tear open the bag, but it's too small for your hooves. So Master takes it and opens it for you.
>Taking the candy in a hoof, you take a look at it, before simply tossing it in your mouth.
>It's like if you just ate a whole grain of pepper coated with red chili.
>You gag and spit this atrocious treat while Master is literally rolling on the floor, clenching his sides while laughing like a maniac.
?What is this!?? you ask, refraining your anger toward Master.
>?Oh putain?? He swears, getting back up while wiping a tear with a sole finger. ?This was even better than what I expected!?
>You scrunch your muzzle before taking a swig to rinse the taste.
?Theses are not candies, they are a prank, right??
>?No, they are candies. They just are extra sour, some like it. I don't, but the taste after that is great so??
>He tosses one in his mouth, wrinkles his face for a second then returns back to normal with a smile.
>You get off the couch and pick up from the floor the candy you spat.
>"Don't eat that, it's gross. Take another."
>You weren't going to eat it, but say nothing. You simply toss it in the nearby bin and accept the second candy Master is offering you.
>This time you're more apprehensive, but you put it in your mouth anyway.
>You cover your mouth with both hooves to not spit it again.
>Really, who eats that?
>But as Master told, the sour taste fades off quickly, and only a sweet taste of green apples remains.
>The two of you continue watching the end of the movie, sharing candies and drinks.
>You have long forgotten your previous unanswered question, and by your third emptied beer, you have yet to remember it anyway.
>When the credits start scrolling, Master gets up and stretches a bit.
>"So, how was it?" He says as he grabs the empty bottle you hand him.
"It was a good one, I especially enjoyed the two main actors, they're really fun."
>"Well if you're up for it we can watch another one with them in. I'm really feeling like doing nothing but watch movies and drink today. Another one ?" He add this last two words while gently shaking a beer in the air.
>You consider the offer, but feeling you head spin a bit already, you decide against it.
"Thank you Master, but I'm feeling I got enough already."
>He pouts a bit at that. "Bummer. But yeah, I get your point."
>You then remember something important.
"Oh, Master, I need to take my pills!"
>He stop midway from the kitchen.
>"What pills?"
>You try not to roll your eyes.
"The magic suppressants, Master. I must take them every afternoon."
>"You do? It must have slipped my mind."
"Well, Mistress gave them to me. She store them in the top-left-cupboard."
>He makes his way back to the kitchen, and finds the flacon containing the pills where you told him.
>He eyes the flask, then turns to you.
>"So, this prevent you from using magic? That's why you don't use your horn?"
>Instinctively, you bring a hoof to your forehead. Yeah, you didn't use this in years.
"It is, yes. Can't risk me hurting people with magic."
>From your position on the couch, you see him frown a little. "Ok... need water with this?"
"Yes, please, Master."
>He grabs a bottle of water, tucks it under his arm, then comes back to the couch with the pills and his beer.
>He gives you the bottle, but seems hesitant before handing you the pills.
>"If you could do magic, would you hurt me or try to flee?" He asks.
>You give him your best "meh-face" and shrug.
"If I'm being honest with you, Master, I have thought about it a lot.
"I mean, not hurting you especially, just, what would I do if I got my magic back.
"Some years ago yes, I would have hurt my owner if given the means, but now I know it's pointless. It would only put myself in more trouble than I am.
"So no, I wouldn't hurt you."
>Then, after a second, you add:
"Unless, you know, you try to kill me or something..."
>"Why the fuck would I do that."
>You notice it wasn't a question.
>After a short silence, he speaks up again.
>"Would you like to not take these pills ?"
"Herrr, I prefer if I do."
>He raise a brow. "Why?"
>You gave him a look. Is he really that oblivious?
>"Master, these pills, they are drugged, you know? If I don't take them, it would be just like... a crack addict suddenly not given his dose. My previous owner knew that, and he sometimes wouldn't gave me my pills, just so I could feel the withdrawal. I'd like not to feel that again... plus, I'm used to not being able to do magic anymore, so it's no big deal.
>Master averts his gaze from you, tightening his grip on his bottle.
>"Ok, I'm feeling sick now."
"Sorry Master, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
>"Yeah, let's forget that. Here, take them."
>He hands you the flask, and motion to the bottle of water.
>"You can drink from it, I don't usually drink water, I don't care."
>So you just uncap the flask, pour two pills in your frog, and tosses them in your mouth, gulping them down with some water.
>Looking back at Master, you see his mood has obviously turned upside down.
>So you reach for his shoulder with a hoof, and gently pat it.
"Hey, it?s fine, things are not so bad for me, especially with you, Master."
>He smiles a bit at that, but he still seems upset.
>"Vinyl, could you do me a favor, please?"
"Anything, Master."
>?My name?s Anon. Anon Yme. Call me that would you?"

-----

"Anon?"
>Master looks up from his computer at you. He says something in French in his headset then address to you in English.
>"What's up Vinyl?"
"I was going to eat, do you want me to cook something for you?"
>"Hey, that sounds good. Wait a minute, I'm coming."
>He goes back to French, talking to whoever in his headset. Then after a minute puts it down and gets up from his chair.
>He hasn't gone to work today, apparently his boss gave him the week off. So he spent all the morning on his computer, probably playing some games you guess.
>You're a bit concerned about him. His girlfriend broke up with him, slamming the door on her way out, and apart from the tears the same day he didn't shown a bit of emotion about it since, like it just didn't happen.
>He's keeping everything inside, that's not good at all.
>"So, cooking. What's on your mind? I'm totally down for some pasta and bolognese."
"It sounds like a good idea. I intended on making myself a salad, but I think you changed my mind."
>He raises a brow at that.
>"You know there is meat in it, right?"
>You nod.
"I do. But I was thinking on making me some sauce without meat aside, you don't mind?"
>"As long as you do the dishes, no."
>You trot inside the kitchen, Master following you close.
>"Can I help you cook, though?"
"Of course, Anon, if you wish to."
>"I do. What can I do then?"
>The both of you start working, Master cooking the pasta while you prepare the sauces.
>You throw in a saucepan some cut red onions, then the ground meat which you start cutting with a wooden spatula.
>It is far from being the first time you cooked meat, but you always feel a bit sick doing so.
>You can understand that eating pieces of dead corpses is part of their dietary needs, but they don't have to eat so much!
>Humans says it's ok since the animals they kill are not sentient.
>But you saw those "animals" once. Sure, they're not as intelligent as the dumbest pony you ever saw, but they obviously have feelings too.
>Your mind quickly drifts to that time when your were forced to eat some meat. The laugh of your previous master rings in your ears...
>Shaking your head, you focus back on the task at hoof.
>"You're alright?"
"Y-Yes, Anon."
>"You don't seem so."
"It's alright, really. Just a bad memory is all."
>"Ok..." He says, eying you with worry. "You want me to take care of this?" He adds, pointing to the preparation with the meat in it.
>After a thought you nod, and you switch tasks with him.
>"I didn't know it made you so uneasy, I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, Anon."
>"Kind of." He shrugs. Then he adds: "You said it was a bad memory... you wanna talk about it?"
>You shake your head.
"No, not really."
>"Ok. If you change your mind though, I'm still here."
>Grabbing a wooden spoon, you stir the pasta to avoid them sticking to the bottom.
"Anon, why are you nice to me?"
>You flinch. You didn't want to say it that way, it just slipped your mouth.
>"I don't understand Vinyl, why would I not be nice to you?"
"Forgive me, Master, that's not what I meant."
>"What did you mean then?"
>You start sweating a bit, afraid you made a mistake.
"You... I'm worried for you, actually."
>He raises a brow at that, not expecting this. "Worried? Why?"
"Well, you broke up with your mate, and I know that you should be sad right now, or angry, but... you don't show anything, y-you... are you alright?"
>His face darkened a bit as you talked, and he slowly knelt down to be more at your level, despite the fact that you were standing on your hind legs.
>"Are you afraid that I will hurt you?"
>You gulp, but don't answer as you keep eye-contact with him.
>"I won't. I just want to not be reminded of her, I'd like to have happier things in mind, you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
>He opens his mouth to add something, but don't. He hesitates, shakes his head, then simply stands back up.
>"Let?s finish, I'm hungry."


>After lunch, Master got back to his computer while you did the dishes.
>After that you did the usual little chores like cleaning the kitchen, sweeping the floor, gathering any discarded clothes to put them in the basket...
>Quickly you ran out of things to do, so you were allowed to relax a bit.
>You trot up to the couch, and plop down on it. Stretching your neck, you grab the blanket resting on the backrest with your teeth and pull on it to cover yourself up.
>But at that exact time, the bell rings.
"Come oooon." You groan, covering your face with both hooves in frustration.
>You get up and trot to the door. You reach for the handle and open, revealing Mistress standing there.
>You freeze.
>"Heu, élo, ouère iz Anon?"
>Recovering from the surprise, you hold up a hoof, silently asking her to wait.
>You trot toward the stairs, and call:
"Anon? Please come!"
>You hear some muffled words, and shortly after the sound of a door opening.
>"What is it Vinyl?"
"Mistress is at the door!"
>He doesn't answer, and just walks straight down the stairs, going past you without a look.
>You see him walking to the door, and instantly talking to Mistress with some anger in his voice.
>They both start talking in French, so you don't understand much beside the swearing words. At some time though the word "poney" is spoken quite a few times.
>As expected the volume of the conversation significantly rises.
>Then Master shifts toward you and points a finger at you.
>To that Mistress answers some more swearing words and taps a finger against her temple vigorously.
>If you were to guess, you would say...
>...nothing. You would say nothing, as you have absolutely no clue what is happening right now.
>After a while Master grabs the box you packed the day before yesterday with Mistress's things, and gives it to her.
>She throws Master and you a last look, before finally walking away. Master closes the door.
>"Good riddance." He says, walking back to the kitchen.
"Anon? May I ask what you two talked about? I think you were talking about me at some point."
>He opens the fridge and pulls out a beer from it, which he straightaway opens, using the first fitting object he see in his reach.
>"Nothing of importance. We just agreed for me to keep you."
>You suppose there were a bit more than that, but you decide to not insist.
>He takes a swig, and glances down at you, seemingly in deep thought.
>"Hey, wanna drink?"
>As much as you would like to say yes, you have the feeling that it may not be the best choice right now.
"Ok."
>But it looks like he is going to drink, whether you follow him or not. So you at least can fulfill your purpose and be his alibi once more.

-----

>Master sets the last bottle on the coffee table before the couch; you let out a low whistle.
"I didn't know there were this many bottles here."
>"It's all gifts and leftover from previous party, I don't drink as much as I used to, so it just keeps piling up in a closet."
>There are at least twenty different bottles of liquor, whiskey, rum or vodka.
>He also brought a pack of beer, a few bottles of coke, and everything that he could find that could be somewhat related to a snack.
>"This is perfect!" He claims, letting himself drop into the couch. He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, putting Netflix on again.
"Are we watching another movie?" You ask, taking your seat next to him on the couch.
>"No, I just want to put a series to pass the time."
>He quickly finds something to his liking and plays it.
>The Griffins.
>"This is utter shit. The jokes are not funny, and I don't even get half of the references because they are all related to the U.S.."
"Then why do you choose that?"
>He shrugs. "It passes the time. I can watch it without having to watch it, you know?"
>You kind of get it.
>"Anyway, what do you want to start with?"
>You give a look at the display of bottles, trying to spot something standing out.
"I don't know, what do you suggest?"
>He stretches his arm and grabs a black square bottle.
>"Coke and whiskey, always a good start," he says, pouring the alcohol in two large glasses.
>He fills a half with whiskey, and the other half with coke. Then he hands you your drink.
>"Santé!"
"Santé."
>The glasses clink one against the other, then in the same movement you two take your first gulp.
>This one, despite being diluted, is far stronger than the beers you drank yesterday. But despite the surprise, you don't cough.
>You had stiffer drinks back home.
>"So, how is it?"
"It's good, I like it!"
>"Yeah. Just be careful: the sugar is a traitor, you can get wasted before you know it."
"But, Anon, ain't that why we're drinking in the first place?"
>You are in a playful mood tonight.
>He gives you a surprised look, then a smile.
>"Totally. But still, better take our time getting wasted, I'd like to make it last."
>"Hand me those please." He add, pointing to one of the bags of chips.
>You do as you?re told, and start sharing the salty treats with him.
>On screen, Peter is rolling on the floor, puking spasmodically under the watchful eye of his dog.
>You chuckle.
"Eh, that's a bit funny actually."
>You can see Master rolling his eyes.
>"Yeah, if that is the kind of humor you like, better start watching South Park."
"I think I saw that already. I don't think that show is for me."
>"No? Why's that?"
>You remember a scene in which a fatty in a red jacket dismembered the pony his mom offered him, just because she wasn't a unicorn as he wanted.
"It just didn't click?" You try, uneasy.
>Master shrugs and simply empties his drink.
>You do as well.
>He pours himself a second drink, then does the same for you.
>"You want to play a game?"
>You swallow your drink before answering:
"If you want to. Which one?"
>"Don't know. I don't think you can hold a controller with your hooves?"
"You mean like for those video games? I never tried, but no, I don't think I can. Unless it?s one designed for ponies."
>"Wait, that exists?"
"Yeah, I saw an ad on the TV once. They do all sort of things."
>He seems to give a deep thought about it.
>"Odd I didn't heard about that. I suppose that's because I never owned a pony before you."
"Make sense."
>You take another sip at your drink while he goes on the next proposition.
>"Well I still have cards... You don't know how to play Magic by chance?"
>Did he just... Is he making fun of you for not being able to use magic anymore?
>That may not be it, because seeing your contraried face he instantly raises a hand and apologizes.
>"No I don't mean magic with your horn, I'm talking about a card game named Magic. Forget it."
>"I still have regular cards also. I've got some board games too. Or we could just make a talking game."
"What, like twenty questions?"
>"Boring. No, I have something more interesting."
>At that he pulls out his phone and starts tapping on it. After some time he reads out loud whatever is on his screen:
>"Vinyl, have you ever made fun of a cripple?"
>What?
>The image of this grey pegasus crashing into a tree comes back to your mind.
"Hu... yes, I think."
>"You drink!"
>You blink once.
>Then you take a sip from your drink.
"Ok, I know this game. It's my turn to ask you something now, right?"
>"Nope, it's the phone who choose who got the question and what it is." He says, handing you the device that now reads: 
"Anon: tell an humiliating story or drink three times."
>You shift your gaze toward him.
>"I pissed myself at school, in college even. In the middle of the class."
>You can't help but laugh at that.
"Really? Oh that must have been terrible!"
>"You bet yeah. Vinyl, You drink each time your start a sentence with a 'W'."
"What?"
>"You drink."
"Why?"
>"You drink again."
"Wait that's not- Harr!"
>By the time you get it, you just have to empty your drink in one-go.
"That's not fair!"
>"It's the game, Vinyl. Ok tell me what's next," he says, handing the screen for you to read the question.
"When did you lose your virginity?"
>"You drink."
"Why? Oh damn it!"
>You take your two gulps as Master slowly dies from laughter.
>"Ok, I was nineteen," he finally answers.
"Nineteen? Isn't that awfully late?"
>He shrugs. "A bit late I guess, but I'm still in the average."
>This is the human's average?
>"Vinyl, same question."
"Twelve."
>"What?!"
"What "what?"? Oh buck it."
>You drink again. This dumb rule is going to kill you.
>"Twelve, only in the middle-east did they lost it at that age!"
>You don't get it.
"Yeah, it's a bit early I reckon', but I'm not far from the average either."
>He takes some time to think about it, scratching his beard.
>"I suppose humans and ponies don't mature at the same age then."
"Probably yeah."
>"I hope. Well, guess I must drink then. The one who lost his virginity the latest drink."
>He takes a big swig from his glass, drinking half of it in one go.
>"By the way, how old are you?"
"You don't know?"
>"Why would I?"
"You bought me, didn't you took a look at my papers?"
>They are fakes, but the information on them is still true.
>"I must admit that I didn't. You looked in good shape and health, that was enough to me. Plus I liked your mane."
"Thanks, I guess."
>"Yeah. So, how old?"
"Twenty two."
>He nods his head, then grabs some snacks.
"Can I ask how old you are, too?"
>"Sure. Late twenty."
>It's your turn to nod.
>You two are more or less from the same generation. Well, if there is something like a human-pony alike generation.
>"Ok, next. Vinyl, do you know to play music? Eh, I guess not, you drink."
"But I do play." You protest.
>"How? With your hooves? I'd love to see you pluck a guitar's strings with thoses."
"I used to be able to do magic? Plus you know, I totally can play the guitar with my hooves."
>"Yeah ok, so you play the guitar?"
>You make a circular motion with your hoof.
"I learned to, yeah, but I prefer electronic music. I used to be a DJ, you know? Hence my cutie mark."
>"The thing on your butt? I knew that had some meaning to ponies. But wait, electronic music? A DJ? You guys had that technology?"
>You feel insulted, but you do your best to keep your temperament in check.
"Yes, we had. We're not as uncivilized as you seem to believe."
>"Eh, go figure."
>You really need to refrain yourself from  snapping at him right now. Instead you just empty your glass.
>"You don't have to drink you know, you answered right.
"I needed it."
>"Poor little pony. Need a refill?"
"Please." You grumble.
>This guy is starting to act like an ass.
>He takes your glass and fills it, this time with another bottle.
>"Taste this, and tell me what you think."
>You take the glass and give a look at its content.
>It's green colored, and smells a bit of herbs. You take a sip.
"Wow, it tastes as good as it's strong!"
>You cough a bit, but gladly take another sip.
>"I know, right? Some mix it with energy drinks, but I say that's a waste. You seem to drink pretty well, you had alcohol in your place?"
>Again with the condescending questions. What is he thinking, that you lived outside and ate grass all day?
>Humans are all the same in this regard.
"Yeah, of course we did. Humans don't have a monopoly on civilization, y'know?"
>"Sorry, I didn't meant to be rude, there's no need to be displeasing."
>Could he be more annoying? You prefer to take a drink instead of making another snarky remark.
>He takes a drink too before asking: 
>?Say, do you mind telling me a bit more about your place?"
>Your head had started spinning a bit, and it takes you more time than needed to process the question.
>"If you don't want to, that's cool, you know."
"No, it's ok. But, ain't it my turn to ask you something?"
>"Probably. What do you want to ask then?"
>You try to gather your thoughts, bringing your glass to your lips to gain some time.
"Why do you want to know about Equestria?"
>You drink.
>"I don't know... to know you more?"
"You don't care."
>"Yes I do, I-"
"No you don't. I'm just your slave, Anon. Why do you bother?"
>You see him furrow his brow. You know you're going the wrong way, but that's why you drank tonight.
>"Vinyl, can you tell me what is wrong with you?"
>You chuckle at that. Everything is wrong.
"Tell me, why do you keep me?"
>You stare in his eyes, not bothering to hide your hate toward him anymore.
>"I want us to be friends, Vinyl."
"Bullshit!"
>You stand up, wobbling as you do so, and push an accusatory hoof toward him.
"Keep acting like you care about me, like you give a shit about my worthless life. The truth is that you just want to forget Mistress. My sole purpose it to help you forget this bitch, nothing more."
>Anon looks at you dead in the eyes, raising an authoritative finger.
>"I think you drank too much, Vinyl, and so did I. I'll let that slip if you tone it down right now."
>You look down on him, before grabbing the nearest bottle.
"Pulling the ?Master? card now? I thought we were friends, you know."
>You uncork the bottle with your teeth and drink straight from the neck. But quickly Anon grabs the bottle and takes it away from you.
>"I said that's enough!"
>You dismiss him with a wave of the hoof.
"It tasted like piss anyway. So..."
>You spread your legs, as to present yourself to him.
"Wanna fuck me?"
>"What the fuck?"
"I know you're going to do it at some point, so just get on with it. Your shitty mate dumped you, you're alone and you have needs... go for it, really! That's why you kept me and not her, right? Come on, forget this bitch and come get so-"
>A fist interrupts your rant, and you feel yourself hitting the ground before your brain can register the shift in your balance.
>"What is your problem?!"
>Looking up, you see Master towering you, fists clenched. Feeling something wet on your face, you wipe a hoof on your muzzle, and notice that it returns stained in red.
>You try to get up, but the blow you received, as well as the excessive amount of alcohol in your blood makes you lose your balance again, so you just fall back on your haunches.
>"She left me, but that doesn't allow you to disrespect her," he says, shakily.
>"I'm trying to be nice, ok? Just... why can't you be nice too?"
>You simply stare at him, or at least try to as the room is spinning around. He looks he's about to cry.
>"I still love her... But she doesn?t, and I don't know what I can do to forget her. I-I hate my life, Vinyl."
"You hate your life?" You manage to say. "Bucking asshole, you really want to complain about your life to me?"
>Anger starts showing on his face, but you don't stop. You don't want to stop now.
"There are ponies that I love, too. But they are not just gone, they are bucking dead! I had a life before, friends, a lover, my own damn house! All of this is gone! I got enslaved, raped, almost beaten to death..."
>You try to take a step toward him, but everything is moving around you, and you start to feel nauseous.
>So you point to what's left of your left ear and continue:
"I did this to myself with a pruner to escape the monster that owned me at the time. And you know what? It hurt like tartarus and it served no purpose in the end!"
"I'm trapped on this earth of yours, and there is no escape, you guys are everywhere! I'm bound to be a slave until I die eventually."
>You struggle to keep straight, the world around you has shifted into a blur of colors.
"So, you hate you life? Do you want to switch with mine then?"
>You take a huge breath. You've been feeling more and more sick and now you can't ignore the nausea anymore.
>Your stomach suddenly tenses, and you puke right then and there.

-----

>Your everything hurts.
>Your liver is burning, your mouth is dry, your muzzle is sore, your muscles are screaming in agony...
>You never had a hangover this bad in your life. Which is not a small feat, considering the number of wild parties you had in the past.
>It's been nearly a hour since you woke up, if the clock resting on the nightstand next to you were to be believed.
>Well, it wasn't really a nightstand. It was more like a stool on which someone, probably Anon, placed a clock, a plate of rolled-up crepes and a pair of water bottles.
>The memories of last night are fuzzy, but you still remember the important part:
>You seriously fucked up.
>Saying you disrespected your owner is an understatement. You got drunk on purpose and openly insulted him and Mistress. Some could say you had a death wish.
>But you're not dead, far from it. You are nicely set on the sofa bed, with your blanket and a comfortable pillow, in Anon's spare room. He is currently not here, but his computer is on.
>You take a look at the plate next to you. You are hungry, but you still feel too nauseous to eat something solid. So you just reach feebly for one of the water bottles, and drink slowly from it.
>Putting the cap back on, you squeeze the fresh bottle against you and curl up under the blanket, clenching your eyes shut.
>You stay like this for some time before you hear the door open.
>You don't move as footsteps comes next to you.
>"Hey, Vinyl, you awake?"
>He doesn?t sound angry at all, quite the opposite actually.
"Y-Yes, Master," you answer quietly.
>"Good. How are you feeling?"
"I think I'm about to die," you answer, not moving from under the covers.
>"Yeah, I think that's your punishment for yesterday."
>You don't say anything right now, instead you stay focused on the persistent feeling of sickness that permeates your body.
>"You're not feeling hungry?"
>You slowly shakes your head.
"The crepes look good, but I prefer not to eat anything right now."
>"That's ok, they're as good cold. I take you one, you don't mind?"
"N-No..."
>You hear him moving his chair next to you, then nothing else aside the occasional shift in Master's position. But eventually he speaks up again.
>"You know, I took a long time to think about what to do with you, Vinyl."
>That doesn?t sound good.
>"Things can't stay the same after what happened, you know that?"
>He's getting rid of you, he's sending you back to the store, or will hand you over to Mistress!
"Master, please..."
>"Quit it with the ?Master? thing, I don't want to be your master anymore."
>Ignoring your raging headache, you crawl out from under the blanket and bow before Master.
"Please don't throw me away Master! I will behave, promise! Please don't send me back to the store!"
>Anon is as good as a human can be, you don't want to be bought by another abusive owner.
>"No it's- Vinyl, let me talk would you?"
>You shut your mouth and look down, ear flat.
>"I'm not getting rid of you. But I don't want to have a slave anymore. I thought a lot about what you told me yesterday, and... I feel like a monster. All theses things you went through, everything you lost... I'll be honest, I couldn't believe it."
>You listen to him intently, but still not daring to look directly at him.
>"So I've done some research on the internet, and I saw what us, humans, could do to you, ponies. There are some atrocious stories out there, I didn't realize it was this bad."
>"That's why I don't want a slave anymore. But I can't get rid of you, because I know it would just be like handing you to another master, you'd still be a slave. I don't want that."
>You slowly look up to him. He looks sad. You're having a hard time processing what is happening right now.
>"And I have to admit, I need you, Vinyl. I need your company. The only friends I have are those I have on the internet, I can't just go out and hang with them when I'm feeling like it."
>He pauses, taking a deep breath.
>"But, before I continue, I need to know what you want."
>Your head is spinning, but you still manage to sit up on your haunches.
"What do you mean by that?"
>"What do you want. I get it that you don't want to go back to the store, but do you really want to stay with me?"
>You don't really feel like you have a choice actually.
"... Yes, I do."
>"There is not just the store, you know. I could place an ad to find you another owner, I could make sure it's a nice one..."
>You shakes you head. You doubt you could have more luck with someone else. Anon is not perfect, but hoping for better would be crazy.
"No, I really prefer to stay with you."
>"Okay."
>There is another silence before he continue.
>"I can't legally set you free, because, that's just not a thing yet. I looked that up on the net, there are discussions about it but that's it for now. But, between you and me, you're not a slave in my eyes anymore."
>He looks at you, expecting some reaction. But you just look at him, dumbfounded.
>"Sadly that doesn?t mean I can keep you around for free, you'll have to work a bit. I mean, I still have to feed you."
>You know that makes sense, it's only fair. Still, you don't have a choice, and if he just asks you to do the chores and provide him with company, things wouldn't be as different as before, you'll still be his slave, no matter what he says about it.
>"I don't know what you can do to earn money though, I'll have to make research."
>Oh, he wants you to earn actual money. That's... a change.
>Anon then takes a look at the room, brushing a hand through his hair.
>"But first, I think it's time you get an actual room. I'm moving my computer to my bedroom, so you'll get this place for you."
>You look around with wide eyes.
"For real?"
>"Yes."
>You start to feel a pang of emotions filling your chest. You never had a room of your own since your world fell apart.
"Anon, you better not lie to me, please."
>"No I'm serious, I'll let you have the sofa bed even, until we can afford you something more comfortable."
>You never thought something like that would mean so much to you, but it does. For the last four years, you had nothing more than a kennel or a basket to sleep on. To finally have somewhere decent to rest, and maybe have some intimity... that suddenly meant the world to you.
"Th-Thanks Anon," you murmur.
>"It's the least I can do, you deserve better than that."
>He gets up and stretches a bit, before heading toward his desk.
>"I'm going to move all that already, then as soon as you're feeling better, why don't we go outside, take a walk, and see what we can buy you to fill this room a little? It's gonna get empty once my desk is gone."
>He then motions to the plate of crepes. "You should still eat a bit, it will help."
>You simply nod, and reach for one. They are stuffed with strawberry jam.
>Making sure Anon is busy unplugging his computer stuff, you let a tear roll on your cheek before wiping it with the back of your hoof.

-----

>The last time you got in Anon's car was when he and Mistress just bought you.
>The grocery store was close enough to usually not use the car.
>That last time - which was also the first - you had to ride in the backseat, sitting on a blanket to not put hairs everywhere, as Mistress put it.
>Anon and her had an argument the whole ride. It was far from pleasant, to say the least.
>But you're not sure if the current situation is better.
>"YOU LIKE WHEN IT HURTS?"
>"LET IT BURN!"
>Sweet Celestia! You never heard someone sing that wrong in your entire life! His singing is physically painful!
>And this song, really. You're not too sure, but you think it's about seeking pleasure in self-mutilation. Ok, you kind of get it but... that's twisted.
>Soon enough it comes to an end, and before the next one can play, you try to get Anon's attention.
"Hey Anon, do you have something else on this to play?"
>"What, metal is not your jam?"
>The next song starts to play with a terrific shriek and a frenetic blast from the drummer. Anon turns down the volume a bit.
"I can't say I enjoy it, sorry."
>"Ok, so what do you prefer?"
>You didn't heard a lot of human music until now, but you know they also have electronic music.
"You don't have any electro by chance?"
>"Sure. Let me see what I have here."
>He pushes some buttons on his steering wheel, glancing at the screen in the middle of the board from time to time.
>"Looks like I don't have much, sorry. But what about that?"
>A slow melody starts to play, very atmospheric at first, until the beat drops.
>This got your interest instantly. You look at the screen for the name of the artist: 'Carpenter brut'.
>"You like it?"
"Man, this tune is sick, I love it!"
>"I know, right?"
>You pass the rest of the ride enjoying the music and looking out the window at the other cars passing by on the highway. You even spot another pony sitting in the backseat of a car you overtook, and exchange a wave of the hoof with her.
>Eventually Anon exits the highway and drives to a parking lot. This place is way bigger than the store you usually go, there are thousands of cars parked here.
>"Ok, Vinyl, this place is huge, and there are a lot of people in there, I can't really let you roam by yourself like in the store at home, you know?"
"No need to go easy on me, if I have to be led by a leash, so be it."
>He blinks once. "You're okay with that?"
"No, but I'm not dumb, and I've been a slave for a while. I understand that there are laws, and it's not my place to argue with 'em."
>"Actually, as long as there is no sign I don't have to put you on a leash. But most of the stores in there have one. And I would feel more relaxed if I'm sure I can't lose you in the crowd."
"Like I said, so be it."
>"I'll pay you back."
>He gets out of the car, goes around to open the door on your side, and lets you step out before attaching the leash to your collar.
>"Not too uncomfortable?"
"Just humiliating, but that's ok, don't worry."
>"Sorry about that."
>You roll your eyes.
"Please Anon, stop being sorry, I said it's ok."
>"Yeah, still. Let's go."
>You trot alongside Anon and enter the main hall. This place really is huge. Stores and restaurants of all sizes and types are packing the place. Humans go back and forth in every direction, some of them paying you some attention. 
>You don't see a lot of ponies around, and even though, most of them are store's 'employees.? Humans walking their ponies around like Anon can be counted on your legs.
>Anon lead you to the biggest store in the mall. This one is selling flat-pack furnitures, and every corner is arranged to look like a room.
>Some of those display looks really comfy, and you just want to get on those sofas. Sadly you're not allowed to, as the woman welcoming the customers told Anon when you both entered the store. You can only watch as he tries the couches and lays down.
>There are so many things you want to look at, but this damn leash keeps holding you back by Anon's side. Hopefully he is nice enough to lead you toward whatever catches your attention.
>After some time you arrive in what you could only describe as the desk alley, as there are nothing but desks of all sizes and shapes here.
>Anon lets you choose one by yourself. You find one with adjustable legs, so it isn't too high for you. You also have to pick a chair to go with it, but instead of a regular desk-chair, you opt for a large bean-bag, which better fits your usual sitting position.
>They did have pony-friendly designed chairs, but those are insanely expensive. Also, bean bags have the advantage to come in a lot of different colors. You choose a nice dark-purple one, your favorite color so far.
>This store not only has furniture, but also a lot of things to stuff a house with, may it be practical or decorative, or both.
>Anon grabs you a new blanket, the old one being, well, too old. He tells you that it formerly belonged to his parent?s dog.
>That explains the odor, but you didn't want to know that actually.
>He also grabs a few more small things, both for you and himself, then you have to get back to the car.
>Everything is packed onto a large and flat trolley, and Anon lets you climb on it as he pushes the whole thing. It is childish, but still funny.
>Trying to fit everything in his small car is less funny, but you still manage after folding the seats. Meaning you?ll be quite uncomfortable on the way back, but you don't really care.
>"Ok, that will do," declares Anon as he finally closes the door. "Let's go back in there to eat something would you?
"They serve ponies?"
>He stops, looking straight ahead in contemplation for a second before he shrugs. "We?ll see."
>You both head back to the mall, and start looking for a place to eat. It appears that, as expected, not a lot of them allow ponies inside. Actually only two seems to tolerate your kind: McDonald's, and a pizzeria.
>"I'm not going to McDonald's," states Anon flatly.
>Well, that only leaves the pizzeria. Anon leads you to the restaurant and takes a place in an isolated booth. You hop up on the cushioned seat, then Anon unclips the leash from your collar. You make yourself comfortable when a waiter comes to you.
>He welcomes Anon, then shows you with the tip of his pen. Anon answers him, and the man seems to relax. He then hands you each a menu and walks away.
"What did he says about me?"
>"He simply asked if you were well-behaved. I should teach you some basic french."
>You don't really look forward to it, learning a different language is a hassle, but you have to admit that it would be nice to understand what everyone is saying around you.
>"So, what will you have, Vinyl?"
>You didn't open your menu yet, neither did Anon.
"You?"
>He shrugs. "Hawaiian, like always."
>You don't make any comment regarding his choice and instead pick up your menu to hide your disapproving face behind it.
>You go through the list of pizzas, ignoring the 'meat' section. Of course it is written in french, but most of the words are kind of familiar, you only had to ask Anon for one or two words.
"Okay, I think I'm having this... 'Napolitaine' one."
>He raises a brow and bends toward your menu to take a look.
>"Are you sure? There is anchovy in this one."
"Yeah, it's cool. I actually like anchovy."
>"But... it's fish, you eat fish?"
>You roll your eyes.
"I don't eat meat because it comes from sentient creatures, but also and mostly because I can't digest it. But fish is ok, I can digest it, and fishes are assholes anyway, they deserve to be eaten."
>Right now, Anon is doing the best 'what the fuck did this dumbass just say? face you ever saw.
>"Ok, you know what? I'm not even going to ask."
>At this very instant, a lime-green stallion wearing an apron with the pizzeria's logo on it appears next to your table. He smiles widely, says something in french without the slightest accent then pulls out a notepad and a pen from his front pocket. Pen in mouth, he waits expectantly for Anon to give his order.
>He obliges, then turns to you. "You want something to drink, Vinyl?"
"Hu, I don't know, a juice?"
>The pony drops his pen before telling you something which, needless to say, you don't understand.
"Heu, I-Je pas understand, p-pardon !"
>You see a mix of incomprehension and worry on his face as he folds his ears back.
>"You don't speak French?"
>You shake your head, a bit ashamed.
>"She arrived here not even a month ago, she lived in the U.S. before that," explains Anon.
>"A chance for her you Sir know Equish, I can't imagine living in a country where no-one would understand me!"
"What about when you arrived here? You knew French already?"
>"No, but I was immediately sent to France in a taming-camp, we got classes to learn the language before being put on the market. But back to your order, I shouldn't annoy you with my boring life," he says, smiling.
>He's obviously all too happy to speak in his native language, but can't really make chit-chat with customers.
"Yeah... So, juices?"
>"Oh right, you have the list right here, we got the usual, but also..?
>He starts going on about the various kind of juices the place has to offer as you go through the list. You quickly make your choice though, and let him know.
>?Aw?ight,? he says around his pen, taking note. ??N you Shur??
>?Draught beer, thank you.?
>The pony slightly bows to Anon and addresses you a smile before trotting off.
>Anon pulls out his phone and fiddles a bit with it until the pony comes back with a tray balanced on his back, the drinks on it.
>He slides them in front of you then go away once again.
>Anon grabs his mug and holds it in the air. "Santé."
>You do the same and gently clink your glass against his.
>You take a drink, it's delicious. A shame, you probably won't have any left by the time your pizza comes.
>Anon is back to his phone, but you feel like you should say something. Rather, you want to say something.
"Anon?"
>He raises his eyes. "What is it, Vinyl?"
>You fidget a bit on your seat, suddenly aware of how sappy you're going to sound right now.
"I wanted to say thank you. For, y'know, everything."
>You do a vague motion with your hoof.
"I mean, even before yesterday, you had been quite nice to me. It... feels really good, to be treated with a bit of consideration."
>He takes a glance at his phone, before setting it face down on the table.
>"Glad to hear that I'm not one of those shitty owners. Say, was it really that bad in the U.S.? As I told you I read some stories on the internet..."
>He sounds like he is about to say more, but stops there. Instead he just looks at you, probably expecting for you to tell your story.
>Does he really want to hear that, though? And most importantly, do you really want to remember it?
>You look at your glass, swirling its content a bit.
"Let's just say I'm glad to be here with you."
>He takes the hint and nods.
>"If someday you feel like sharing it, I'm here."
>You smile.
"Thanks, Anon."
>You wait a bit before going on.
"I can return you the offer, if you want to talk about, y'know, Mistress."
>He grabs his phone and flips it just so he can have a quick look at the screen before setting it back down.
>"Ouais," he says with a sigh. "I'm still a bit lost about it. I know it's over for good, she made that clear. And when I think about it, I know it's for the best, it wasn't working between us. But still, it's hard to get her out of my head."
"You should go out, hang out with a friend."
>Making a questioning face, Anon looks at you, then at the restaurant around.
>"Am I not doing that right now?"
"Yeah bu-"
>Wait. He just said you are his friend, that's what he implied right now.
>Are you Anon's friend?
>Is he yours?
>You're not sure. You wouldn't be here if you had the choice, if you were free to go.
"T-Totally, but I mean, with other humans, some that you know well?"
>"I know what you mean. I have one of my internet friends that's willing to come down from Paris to see me, probably next weekend."
"That's good to hear."
>He shrugs. "Probably, I don't really think much about him though, we barely know each other to be honest."
>There is another silence. Anon quietly sips on his beer, looking around, while you try to hold back and not empty your own drink too quickly.
>You spot the stallion coming your direction with the pizzas.
>"I hope someday we'll be friends, Vinyl."
>"And here are your pizzas! Bon appétit !"
>Anon starts digging in.
>You stare at him, pondering.
>Then, after a moment you grab your first slice.
"We'll see."

-----

>You're in your room, sluggishly laying on your bed, head hanging from the edge, eyes closed, and entirely focused on the music.
>It's been one week since Anon and you went out to buy furniture.
>You spent the whole weekend together, trying to figure out how to build your new desk, shelf and nightstand. Given, if you both didn't have so many drinks, it would have been easier. But how much fun was it!
>After that, Anon gave you some of his things like books, an old tablet computer that you could use with a stylus you had to held with your mouth, sadly it was really slow and couldn't stay on without being permanently cabled to an outlet... and notably a mp3 player.
>It's easy for you to use, it's an old model, the buttons are quite huge. He packed it with all the electro he had, and also some metal albums that he seemed to be insistent for you to listen to.
>You had to listen to it via a pair of speakers, as your odd number of ears couldn't allow you to comfortably wear a headset - while you did keep it, as it allowed you to roam the house with your music playing around your neck-, and those earbuds were too small to fit.
>The boring part was that Anon had to go back to work this week, so you had to pass up to ten hours alone at home, having little to do beside the small chores and masturbating, all the while listening to music.
>You'll have to ask Anon for something to keep you busy, he did talk to you about finding you a job last week after all.
>Or you could ask for permission to use his computer, it seems to occupy him more than enough. And he may not have a pony-friendly keyboard, you're sure you can use it with just your stylus.
>Anyway, you feel like it's about pills time.
>You roll over and get off your bed before trotting toward your shelf.
>It is actually a bookshelf, composed of box-like compartments, that you set horizontally on the floor instead of vertically, this way you can easily access each cubbies.
>You unplug the mp3 player and plug it to the headset that you slide around your neck. You have to wind the cable around your neck to not let it hang down to your hooves, but that's the best you can do for now.
>You trot with a giddy step in your hooves, trying to match the pulse of the bass while humming the quiet melody behind them.
>Down the stairs, then to the right, get around the kitchen's counter, open the cupboard, and here they are.
>You pop two pills in your mouth, then turn on the tap to drink straight from it.
>Well, you don't have anything else to do now. That sucks.
>You can always look at the TV. And grab a beer, while you're at it.
>Anon wouldn't mind, he did say you were allowed to take whatever you want from the fridge, and slack all you wanted as long as the house didn't turn like a shithole.
>You're not his slave anymore, but that doesn't mean you can occupy his house and empty his fridge for free.
>So you take a quick look around, making sure that nothing is out of place, then open the fridge and grab a drink.
>With a swift motion of your hoof, you pry open the bottle and take a first swig.
>You trot to the couch and drop on it, then turn on the TV.
>"J'suis pas venue ici pour souffrir okay !?" cries a woman on screen.
>Oh, yeah, you forgot that you don't understand a single shit of this damn bucking language!
>Well, at least you still have Netflix. You can change the dubbing, and put french subtitles. Let's at least try to put in some effort.
>A hour and a half later, the front door opens, letting inside a tired-looking Anon.
>"Weekend, finally!"
>You hear him stripping off his coat, then dropping his keys and something else on the table. He then goes toward the couch and let himself drop on it beside you.
"Had a nice day, Anon?"
>"Fuck you Vinyl. Hey, can I have one?" He says, pointing to the empty beer bottle you left on the coffee table.
"There's plenty in the fridge," you answer, unwilling to get up.
>"Come on, please. And I'll give you a gift."
>The curiosity is too strong.
"A gift? What is it?"
>He motions with his hand toward the table. "I dropped it on the table."
>You get up and trot to it. It's a small package. You bite on it to tear it open, mindful of not damaging its contents, then pull out a book.
>French for dummies.
>That's not a shit gift actually, it can be useful.
>"I think it's time to get you on it, it will be a lot more easier to find you a job with that."
"That right, thanks, Anon."
>"Don't forget the beers."
>You roll your eyes, but still go fetch him a drink. You also take one for you.
>"So, my friend's coming tomorrow afternoon. We will have to do a bit of shopping before that, we're going low on beers..."
>You hope he's not gonna blame you for that. Though he probably could.
>"...but we still have enough for tonight."
>You perk your ear at that, and turn to look at him in the eyes.
>"So, Vinyl."
"Yes?"
>"Wanna drink?"


>Getting up the next morning was a real pain in the flank. Anon is a far more heavy drinker than you, that's a real shame.
>Though he had been drinking more and more lately...
>That's concerning.
>Anyway, after your morning routine, both Anon and you went to the store. The trolley was packed with alcohol, snacks and frozen junk-food.
>Anon took the occasion to ask if a job would be available for you, and the manager answered that he'll think about it.
>It wasn't a no, so you were pretty excited about it.
>Ok it's not at all like your dream job, and the pay was nearly nothing - though it will cover for Anon's expenses on you. But it was a job, a real job, not slave labor anymore.
[spoiler]>Jokes on you Vinyl, this is retail. And retail workers don?t get nice things.[/spoiler]
>At noon, Anon shared with you a mayonnaise and crab sandwich, none of you could be arsed to cook something.
>You then waited for Anon's friend on the couch, reading your new book while Anon watched the TV.
>You were starting to doze off when Anon's phone rang.
>He answers the call, says some words - Hey, you actually recognized some! - then gets up.
>"He will be here very soon, come with me, I'm going to wait for him outside."
>You drop your book and do as told, following him outdoors.
>As you approach to stand beside Anon, a rusty grey car enters the alley and comes next to Anon's vehicule. A tall but slim man exits it and spreads his arms wide.
>"Anon ! Ça faisait longtemps !"
>You just look at them both while they shake hands and exchange some words. Then Anon's friend bends down in front of you and smiles.
>He says something, but you only understand "salut" - which mean "Hi" - and your own name.
>"She doesn't speaks French, Luc, just English," says Anon. "Vinyl, this is my friend Luc."
"Hi, Louc."
>"Luc." He corrects you. "I don't speak English very good, but I will try, ok?"
>You simply nod. He looks like a fairly friendly dude, but you never felt at ease around new human's faces.
>Anon and you help Luc getting his stuff out the car and inside the house. As well as his overnight bag, he has brought a console with some games and a huge bag filled with strong alcohol and more snacks.
>"Just drop it there, Vinyl," says Anon, showing you a corner not far from the couch. "Luc's going to sleep here tonight."
>"What? We are sleeping tonight? I thought we were going to drink," jokes Luc.
>You see Anon rolls his eyes with a smile. "You say that now. Make yourself at home while I store all this stuff."
>Luc goes to the TV with his console and starts connecting both devices together. After some work he gets up, grabs a controller and sits on the couch.
>You frown a bit as he took your spot, but don't say anything. Instead you just sit on the floor and watch him start a game.
>Anon comes back with three open drinks and a bag of chips.
>"You don't waste time, dude," he comments as he sets everything on the table and hands you your own drink.
>Luc answers him in French, while Anon takes his place on the couch.
>"Ok, show me that, but please speak in English. I don't want to exclude Vinyl from the conversation."
>"Oh yes, sorry Vinyl."
"It's ok, you two can talk in French if it's easier for you Luc."
>Anon flicks his hand in a 'drop it' manner. "Nah, forget French, this faggot must improve his English anyway. Hey, come with us on the couch Vinyl, there's enough place for you too."
>You glance at them with uncertainty, but fortunately Anon moves closer to Luc, allowing you some space on the end of the couch.
>You wouldn't feel too comfortable sitting between them both.
>The three of you spend the afternoon drinking slowly while playing video games. Well, Anon and Luc did, because the controllers weren't fit for a pony. But that was okay, they involved you in the game by letting you solve some of the puzzles.
>They weren't the most interesting moments, but you didn't complain, it was better than nothing.
>The night came fast, and you were all more focused on the conversation you now had than on the game.
>"I mean yes, this game is totally one of the best that came out this year so far, but the two previous opus of the series were such garbage that it's hard to really enjoy the story of this one."
>"But you don't really need them to understand the story."
>"Come on, how can you possibly enjoy the second arc without knowing what the Prince did in the previous opus?"
>Luc shrugs, before pointing at you. "I don't know, ask your pony, she probably doesn't have played the two others."
>Both humans turn their heads to you, awaiting your input on the topic.
"Well, I suppose he was some kind of important guy before that, and he betrayed his family, or something like that?"
>"Yes, but how do you feel toward him?" Asks Anon.
"I don't know, he doesn?t seem that important."
>"Ha!" cries your human with a raised fist. "You see? She has no idea why he's here!"
>"Yes, and? She still understands the main story, that's enough."
"That's enough for me, yeah."
>Anon glares at you, clearly unsatisfied with your answer.
>"You guys are total normies, I'm gonna go fetch more beers."
>"Nice work Vinyl, you totally got him!" Says Luc, laughing.
>He then lifts a hand and reaches toward your head.
>By instinct you immediately swat his hand away and back away a little.
"D-Don't!"
>"Outch! Hey, why did you do that?"
>"What's happening?" Calls Anon from the kitchen.
>Luc answer in French, but you still catch the swearing in it.
"I'm sorry Luc, it was an accident!"
>Anon comes back, beers in hands and a frown on his face. "Why would you touch her, Luc?"
>More rambling from Anon's friend, who's massaging his hand.
>"She told you she's sorry. Now take a beer and stop crying, next time just ask her, she's as much a person as you and I."
>Luc grabs the offered drink, still grumbling. "I don't want to be rude, but she's just a pony, dude."
>"What the fuck, Luc?"
>"No don't take me wrong. Ponies are like pets right? My neighbour used to have a really nice dog. She loved it when I pet her. Why would that be different with her?"
>"Ponies aren?t dogs, Luc."
>Luc tilts his head slightly, confused.
>"Why not?"
>"They can think!"
>"Dogs think too, besides all pets love getting touched. Her last owners probably cuddled with her and stuff."
>You wince as this brings back bad memories.
>"Her previous owner was an asshole, he used to beat her, do you realize that?"
>Luc seems to be at a loss for words for a second.
>"R-Really?"
>"Yeah, really. And imagine being in her place, what would you think if I touched you without asking?"
>"That would be gay."
>"Exactly. So stop touching my fucking pony."
>Anon sits back in the couch, giving you another beer.
"Thanks Anon. And sorry, Luc."
>"It's ok, I'm sorry too, I just wanted to... forget it, that's gay."
>You quietly take a sip from your drink, letting them cool down a bit.
>Once the mood as relieved and they finally get back to the game, you get up and offer to cook some pizzas for dinner, which both men approve with glee.
>The pizzas are mostly with meat on them, but Anon had the courtesy to also pick some vegetarian ones for you.
>You cram as much food as you can in the oven, turn the thermostat to the max, and do the same with the timer.
>You're going to stay beside it anyway, there are dishes in the sink.
>You wash the plates and glasses, half-listening to the two humans in the couch. Sadly they had gone back to French while you were gone. But you still managed to understand that you were the topic of conversation.
>You hated when that happened. You know they talk about you, but you don't know what exactly they are saying.
>Really frustrating.
>When the pizzas are finally cooked, you grab a cloth and open the oven. Taking out a burning tray truly is a delicate operation without magic, but you developed your own strategy to do so.
>You slide each pizza on a plate, then cautiously cut them in eight. You put everything on another tray that you balance on your back before returning to the living room.
"So, what are you guys talking about?" You ask as you drop the tray on the coffee table.
>You notice only now that Anon looks slightly annoyed.
>"Luc was telling me that he thinks owning a pony is 'cool' and he is considering buying one when he goes back home."
>You feel your ear going flat on your head. You don't really know what to answer.
>"You see how she reacts? Dude, owning a pony is not cool. That's slavery."
>"Wait, it's not like we invaded their place and took them out of their home."
>Anon smacks his forehead with his hand.
>"You can't be this dense... that's exactly what happened! Where do you think ponies come, from a special breed of horses created by the NASA?"
>Your previous owner honestly thought that.
>"No, I'm not dumb. I don't know, they are from another planet or something. But it's not like they had homes or something, they just lived in the wild. We give them homes, and in return they help us a bit, that is just fair."
>Anon stares at his friend, then at you. "Vinyl, you were a DJ before, that's right?"
>"A DJ?"
>You nod.
>Luc looks confused. "What, like David Ghetta?"
>You shrug. "I don't know him, but yes, probably. I played music in nightclubs, and sometimes I would attend privates parties for ponies that paid for my services."
>His eyes go from you to Anon. "You taught her to say this?"
>"Does it looks like I'm amused?"
>Luc stares at Anon, trying to read as much as he could on his face. He then turns back to you.
>"Are you joking?."
>You shakes your head. He seems confused more than anything.
>"You had a job... and what, a house? Friends? Did ponies had, I don't know, a government, or something?
"I... had, all that, yes. But I don't really feel like talking about it, if you don't mind."
>Just the memory of all that you lost makes your throat tighten, and your eyes stings a little. Ponyville, your house, your friends, Octavia...
>You turn a little to discreetly dab at the corner of yours eyes with the back of your hoof while Luc is processing all this.
>"I didn't know," He says quietly after some time. "I don't think I'll buy a pony finally."
>"Wise decision," says Anon, before drinking from his bottle.
>The conversation had spoiled the mood, to say the least. So, quickly after everyone had emptied his last drink, you and Anon let Luc make himself comfortable in the couch and head to your respectives rooms upstairs.
>But before Anon closes the door to his bedroom, a thought crosses your mind.
"Hey, Anon."
>He stops, then turns to you.
"Do you think I'll be free again someday?"
>He looks a bit confused by your question, but still smiles. "You're already free with me Vinyl, I told you."
"Inside this house I?m free. I know that, but what about outside? Am I going to wear a collar for the rest of my life?"
>"That is outside of my control. We have laws about leashes."
"So Luc was right. I?m no better than a dog."
>"We are all slaves to society, Vinyl. Why do people wear suits when sweat pants and t-shirts are more comfortable? Because we must."
"Most people only wear suits by choice. I don?t get to decide if I?ll wear a collar."
>Anon kneels down so he is at eye level with you.
>"You mean legally free? Completely free to do whatever you want?"
"Yeah."
>"That's a tough question for now, Vinyl. I really hope though."
>He gives you a sad smile before looking away.
"Okay."
>He gets up. "Cool. Anything else?"
>You hesitate for a second.
"Yes, I..."
>You don?t say more and furrow your brow, lowering your head to stare down at your hooves.
>"What is it?"
>You lift up your head, then shake it slightly.
"N-nothing. Good night Anon."
>"Good night Vinyl."
>He waves a hand at you, smiling, and closes his door.
"I'm lucky to have found a friend like you," you murmur.

-----

>Suddenly, the screen turns off.
>You blink twice, stylus still in mouth.
>The screen stays black.
>You poke at it, but nothing changes.
"It's broken?"
>You reach to the side of the tablet computer and press on the on/off button. Nothing. You sigh.
"Buck."
>This old thing finally gave up the ghost. No more games nor youtube videos for you.
>Better tell Anon.
>You get up, grab the dead device and head to Anon's room. Gently knocking twice, you call for him.
"Anon? Can I enter?"
>You ask, but the door is already half-open, so you don't wait for an answer and pass through the doorway.
"Anon, the tablet you gave me just died, wha- are you okay?"
>You stop dead in your track as you notice Anon frantically trying to wipe his eyes with a sleeve.
>"Y-Yes, everything's a-alright Vinyl, no problem."
"Are you crying?"
>"N-No! What is it Vinyl? Why did you come?"
>He has turned to face you and is now trying to smile, but you can clearly see by his reddened eyes that he has been crying.
>You drop your tablet on the nearby bed and trot up to Anon to sit on the floor in front of him.
"What's happening? Can I help you?"
>"I told you I'm alright. What's with the tablet?"
>You furrow your brow. He obviously doesn't want to talk about whatever is on his mind, but you've started to grow worried about him lately.
>Since Luc came a dozen days ago, Anon did nothing but stay in front of his computer playing games. He went outside only to go to work, and once this weekend to do some shopping.
>He also took a habit of drinking every night. Well, he already used to drink a lot since Mistress left, but his drinking had reached the point where he drank himself to sleep every night. And as expected, he isn't sober even right now.
>You enter a staring contest with him, and silently let him know that you're not going to drop this issue. It is way past the time to talk about his problems.
>To his credit, he holds your gaze for a good amount of time before looking away.
>"God damn it... Your eyes are creepy, you know that?"
"Offense taken. But tell me, what is going on?" You say as you tentatively reach a hoof to his knee.
>He combs a hand in his hair, sighing slowly. "I miss her."
>You were expecting it, but you still don't know what to say.
"I'm sorry, Anon."
>"Don't. It wasn't working well anyway. I just wish it was easier to forget her."
"I feel you."
>There is a moment of silence, during which you slowly draw back your hoof.
>"You had someone in your life, Vinyl?"
>Your throat tightens.
"I'd like not to talk about it."
>"Vinyl..."
>You raise you head to look at him in the eyes. Human eyes are a lot smaller than those of ponies, but they convey no smaller amount of emotions. Right now, Anon is deeply concerned about you, he wants to help you as much if not more than you want to help him.
"I had a marefriend, yes."
>"Marefriend? You were with a girl?"
"Yes."
>"Did she-"
"I don't want to say more, please, Anon."
>"Okay, okay, sorry."
>You two don't say more for a second. You know he's looking at you, but you avert your gaze. Eventually Anon speaks again.
>"I don't know much about you, Vinyl."
>You frown a little. What is there to know, really? You're a slave now, period.
>Anon seems to have read your facial expression, because he adds immediately: "I know, it's not the first time we have had this conversation. You don't want to talk about your life back in Equestria, I get it. But still, sometimes I feel like we are strangers."
>You chuckle a bit at that. You are a stranger to yourself, those last years have changed you for good, you know it.
>"What's so funny?"
>You shake you head.
"Nothing. Listen, Anon, I just want to leave the past in the past. I have an old life, and a new one. And thanks to you, that new life is starting to get less shittier than it has started."
>"Well, you're welcome."
>You smile at him.
"You're a cool dude, for a human."
>He returns the smile, but it drops a little shortly after. He fiddles a bit, as if pondering whether or not he should say what he has in mind. Fortunately, he made up his mind before it starts to be annoying.
>"Say, can I...?"
>You see him raise a hand and move it to your head, but he waits for your approval before making contact. You eye his hand for a second.
>This is a thing that always creeped you as much as it intrigued you. Humans are supposed to be socials creatures, but they never touched one another unless they were really close, like mates or family. Thus they tend to satisfy their need for contact by caressing their pets, and ponies aren't the exception, although this softness toward ponies may be uncalled for a times.
>You definitely aren't Anon's pet. Nevertheless, you could use a bit of affection right now.
>Not without a bit of apprehension, you tilt your head toward is palm. He takes the clue and reaches behind your ear - the good one. You tense, and shut your eyes closed... but then he starts scratching.
>You never had an ear-scratching, but you heard they were amazing. This statement was an insult to what the feeling of an actual ear-scratching really was! Being scratched here was like having a massage at the spa: you never realised your muscles were sore until a proper massage relaxes all the stress out of them.
>But in this short instant of pure bliss, a sudden realisation crosses your mind.
>As far as you can remember, no human ever touched you with a comforting intent. In four years, you only received hits, bruises, broken ribs, you got raped, spat on... and never an affectionate gesture. In four years, this is the first time somehuman showed kindness to you.
>Anon is the very first human to really show you some affection.
>Despite all your efforts, you let out a quiet sob as Anon's hand glides on your mane. However, hearing you cry makes him stop.
>"Vinyl what is-"
"Continue, please." You ask as you raise a hoof to hide your face in its crook.
>You never thought you would miss something as simple as an affectionate touch from another living creature.
>Anon continues petting you for some time, until you finally pull your head away from his touch.
>"Are you okay, Vinyl?"
"Yes, t-thank you," you say, still a bit dazed by the ear scratch session. You'll totally have to make Anon do that again sometime.
>An awkward silence settles between the two of you for an instant, before the human fortunately broke it.
>"Alright, so," he grabs his beer and takes a sip. "What is wrong with the tablet?"
"Oh yeah, it's-" You initially go to grab the broken device but stop. "Wait a minute, when I went in here you were crying, but it was me that got comforted in the end! That's not how it's supposed to work!"
>"When did we establish how things were supposed to work anyway?"
>You raise a hoof, hesitate, then put it back down.
"F-Fair point..."
>"But to be fair, it was pretty relaxing to pet you," he adds with a smile.
>You feel your cheeks getting a bit red, so you quickly turn your head toward the tablet to hide your embarrassment.
"I-I'm not your pet!"
>"Ha ha, yes sorry, I won't do it again if it makes you uncomfortable."
>The red in your cheeks refuse to go as you grab the tablet and bring it to Anon.
"Well, I wouldn't mind if you do it again from time to time..."
>There is a short silence during which he stares at you, his mouth slightly ajar. You quickly present the tablet to him and press on the on/off button.
"You see? It just went off when I was playing and it won't turn back on, no matter what."
>Anon grabs the tablet and pokes a bit at it. "It's probably just the battery, this thing is old and-"
"No it's not that, it was plugged to the wall when it went off."
>"Oh, fuck," he says simply, looking at the device just as like he would look at a brick. "Well then, I think it has had its day. We'll look to buy you something new at the end of this month."
"Hmm, I was wondering, do you think I could have a computer too instead of a tablet? I looked at the prices, and some are not much more expensive than tablets, really."
>Anon seems to give it some thought. "You're talking about portable computers?"
>You nod.
>"Well, we'll have to look at it in more details, but I think we can do that. But why do you prefer a laptop over a tablet?"
"The screen and the keyboard are separated, and there is some stuff that I can't have on a tablet."
>"Stuff? Like what?"
"Music-making stuff... and some games also," you admit, a bit sheepishly.
>"Hmm, usually the smaller laptop aren?t powerful enough to run those kind of softwares, they are more useful for browsing the internet or writing, those kind of simple shits. Better wait for you to have a job to buy that."
>You're a bit disappointed at that, but you can't really ask Anon to spent all his money on you, he does a lot already.
"I'll wait then, no problem."
>"I'll still buy you a new tablet this month, a cheap one will do until we can buy you a computer."
>You smile at him.
"Thanks Anon!"
>"It's my pleasure, really. Now, I still have a campaign to end, you're free to stay if you want."
>He motions to a chair in a corner of the room on which is piled up a bunch of clothes. You put everything on the floor and push the chair next to him before hopping on.
>His game resumes, and you watch him lead his troops to a certain death.

-----

>You scrub away the last remnant of shampoo in your mane, before reaching up on your hind legs to turn off the shower's tap.
>The stream of water slowly dies, and you shake yourself to get most of the water off your mane and fur.
>You do your best to move your wet mane out of your face, but with just your hooves it's a bit of a struggle. You only manage to free one of your eyes before giving up. You need a brush.
>You open the door of the walk-in shower and step out, being mindful of staying on the towels you purposely set on the floor.
>Opening a drawer, you pull out a hairbrush and start working on your mane. Without magic you can't help but accidentally pull too hard on your mane at times, but you still manage. Once done, you take a good look at your reflexion in the mirror.
>The last time you had a haircut was when you first arrived in that animal store where Anon bought you. That was nearly two months back, and your mane is starting to be a bit too long for your liking. Heck, you were even supposed to have a sidecut on your right side, you really needed a trim here.
>Your eyes wander to the clippers sitting on the small shelf near the mirror. You doubt you'll be able to use it without causing a mess, but probably Anon could help you?
>Fortunately he was at home, it was some kind of a public holiday today, as he explained you.
"Anon!?" You yell through the closed door.
>You hear a faint response coming from the kitchen.
"I need your help, can you come in!?"
>After some seconds the door opens.
>"What is it Viny- Whoa sorry!"
>You only saw a glimpse of him before he rushed out of the room, closing the door as fast as he opened it. You blink.
"What are you doing Anon?"
>"Sorry I should have knocked before opening the door, but you called me, I thought you would be decent!" Comes his answer from behind the door.
"How come I'm not decent?"
>"Well, you're all wet and naked..."
>Taking a look down at your fur, you realise you didn't bother yet to dry yourself and are still drenched. With a groan, you slap a hoof to your forehead.
"Seriously it's just water, and I'm always naked!"
>Jeez, humans really have an issue with prudishness. Their social conducts are fucked up by all these clothes they wear.
>"Hu, yeah, of course, it's just that-"
"Come in already!"
>He finally opens the door and nervously steps in. "Ok, ok, what is it you want?"
"I was wondering if you could help me with my mane? It's been too long since I got a haircut, and I also need to shave my sidecut," you say, pointing at your head then at the clippers.
>"I'm not a coiffeur, so I won't be able to cut your hair without making a mess, but I can help with your sidecut, yes."
"Cool, can you do it now?"
>He steps forward but stops before taking a look at your dripping form. "Hmm, don't you want to dry off first?"
>You shrug and grab a nearby towel hanging from the heater rail with your teeth and toss it on your back. You then give an expecting look at Anon.
>"... You want me to dry you?"
"What? No, I just want you to cut my mane."
>"But..." He sighs, then kneels down next to you. "Okay, let me help you."
>You wanted to protest at first, but decide against it. Usually you just cover yourself in towels, sit in front of the heater and wait to be dry enough. But having Anon rub your back is way faster... and it feels nice, too.
>He tries to do it fairly quickly, but not without care.
>You can't help but notice that he purposely avoids your rear area, and spends as little time as possible drying your tail. Not that you wish the opposite though, it is kind of awkward after all?
>It still feels nice though.
>He finishes with your hooves, stroking them gently with the towel, before throwing the damp terry aside and grabbing the clippers.
>He rests a hand on your head and carefully tilts it to the side to have better access to your temple. He does it fairly quickly, and after just a minute releases you and shows you the mirror.
>"Is it good enough?"
>It is not a perfect work, for sure, but it will do well enough. You smile.
"It's great, thanks, Anon!"
>He looks satisfied. "Cool, I'll take a rendez-vous with the groomer if you want, for the rest of your mane, and tail maybe. Personally, I like it the way it is, though."
>You take a second look at your mane in the mirror, slightly turning your head to examine it in detail. It does look nice the way it is, maybe you could have it like this for now?
"Hmm, if you say so. We'll make an appointment later then."
>He smiles and pats your head before heading out. He started doing that from time to time ever since he scratched your ear last week. You don't mind.
>...
>Well, you hate to admit it, but actually you love it.
>Stupid nice human making you enjoy scratchies.
>The ringtone of his phone starts to play, and Anon rushes to answer it.
>"Oui, allô ?"
>You exit the bathroom as well and head to the fridge. You still have to make something to eat for lunch, but you don't know what yet. Let's see.
>You have all it takes to make some carbonara pasta, but you already had pasta yesterday. You also could go with some crepes, those could do for both the meal and the dessert...
>"Vinyl! Vinyl!"
>You close the fridge and turn to Anon. He wears a huge smile and seems very excited.
>"Guess what!?"
"What?" You ask, brow raised and shrugging.
>"The store's manager called, he asked me if you were still available to work at their place!"
"What, really!?"
>You suddenly are as excited as Anon.
>"Yes, he just wants to meet us monday for an interview! How are you doing with your French?"
>You scrunch your face as you concentrate to form a sentence.
"Heu, bonjoueur, je s'appelle Vinyl, et vous ?"
>He giggles a bit at your attempt, but still congratulates you. He then asks you a question in French that you quite understand, much to your surprise.
>"*You think you will be able to talk with him in French?*"
>You're not really sure you could hold a real conversation, but you definitely could understand some simple questions and orders. Even if your French abilities were far from good, it was still nice to know that reading this damn book and watching Netflix with dubs or subtitles in French was finally starting to pay off.
"I can try."
>"Great. Hey, let's celebrate this."
>He walks past you and opens the fridge, pulling out two beers.


>You gaze at the store's front doors, gulping with difficulty.
>You rarely had been this nervous before.
>Anon is beside you, he kneels down and rests a hand on your back.
>"You're alright, Vi'?"
"Y-Yeah, just nervous."
>"It's gonna be fine, don't worry. We practiced your French all weekend, you got this."
>This makes you smile, if only a bit. Anon gets up and starts walking to the door, and you follow close behind.
>He heads to the reception desk and asks the women behind to see the manager. You both wait for a while before the man shows up, greeting Anon and you and showing you to his office.
>It is a very tight room, in which a small desk had been shoved in with only two simple folding chairs on each side. The desk itself is half occupied by a computer screen and a dusty keyboard, the other half is covered with papers and coffee stains.
>Both humans seat on the chairs, while you just plop your rump on the floor next to Anon.
>The man starts to talk, but you don't quite understand him, as he is a bit fast. Anon offers to translate for you though. The manager is a bit worried about that, fearing that you wouldn't be able to speak enough French to work at the store, but you quickly jump on the occasion to prove him the opposite.
>Fully focused on your wording, you introduce yourself, then politely tell him that you can speak and understand if he talks more slowly. You also add that you're happy to work for him, just for good measure.
>You spot a slight grin on Anon's face, but refrain yourself from kicking him in the ribs. Even if it was just playful, you're not sure your potential future manager would take this kindly.
>Whatever, your little show seems to have pleased him, and the interview continues.
>The manager, Mr. Longchamp, told you that this is the first time that he considered hiring a pony. One of his employees had been caught stealing in the store and, the store's staff being already overloaded, a need for a very quick replacement appeared.
>Also hiring a pony is by far cheaper than hiring a regular human worker. For him it is a test: if Vinyl do well, he will consider hiring one or two more ponies to help around the store, for the same price that his previous worker costed him.
>The prospect of having another pony co-worker in the future didn't sound too bad, really.
>And the job didn't sound bad either, your task will be to help the other workers when asked to pull pallets around, keep the shelves full, clean the floor, those kinds of stuff.
>Not really exhilarating, but at least it will keep you occupied six hours a day, four days a week. Due to a law limiting ponies labor, you weren't allowed to work more than twenty-four hours a week. Anon explained you that this was to prevent people from using ponies to work and earning money for them.
>An anti-slavery law in a slavor's state. Ironic.
>But then the question of your income came up, and you waited with bated breath the offer of the manager. He says it, and Anon turns to you to translate.
>As expected, it is not a lot. A bit less than the third of the minimal legal revenue for a human. But for you... You never had a single dollar - or euro - in the past four years.
>The prospect of earning your own money is life-changing. Already you're debating with yourself what you will buy with your money first.
>"*You can commencer tomorrow?*" Mr. Longchamp as in French.
>You didn't catch that verb, but you can easily deduce its meaning, so you nod and answer by the affirmative.
>"*Is it good for you too, Mr. Yme?*"
>Anon answers positively as well.
>The Manager then pulls out a folder containing a contract and some other informative papers. He offers to let Anon and you read all this while he goes back to the store for a while.
>As the whole document is legal gibberish, Anon translates it to as best as he can. A lot of the information is common sense, or not really interesting. But there are still some noticeable parts.
>For exemple, Mr. Longchamp will have to act as your master by proxy during your shifts, but you still are the legal property of Anon. That basically mean that you will have to obey Mr. Longchamp, but he will not be able to damage you - as it is put in the text - in any way.
>You will also have to wear a collar at all times, and a jacket to be identified as a worker in the store. That sucks. You saw the jackets the employees here wear, they are just hurtful to the eyes.
>You are allowed one sick day every quarter, and two days off every month, cumulative.
>That sounds fair, you really can't complain.
>For the last part, it is defined that Mr. Longchamp will have to declare your presence here to the authorities, and provide them with a copy of your ID papers, as well as a copy of Anon's ID card.
>Thankfully Anon had the presence of mind to bring with him every document that he had about you. Thus, when Mr. Longchamp came back in his office, you already provided him with everything he needed, and signed your contract right away.
>He seems happy to be able to have you start tomorrow, and to be fair, so do you. Hanging out at Anon's place is nice, but it gets quickly boring when he's not at home.
>The two humans shake hands, then Mr. Longchamp simply grabs your outstretched hoof and squeezes it gently.
>Anon and you exit the office, then the store.
>You can't stop smiling.

-----
>This is your first day as an employee of the local store.
>As feared, you have to wear the same pale lime green jacket the other workers wear, and your collar is itchy as Tartarus. At least Anon didn't fasten it too tight this morning.
>The day started with a tour of your new workplace. From the lockers room to the stock, Mr. Longchamp showed you everything, as well as telling you the different places of the store. You paid extra attention to that.
>Mr. Longchamp also introduced you to some of the other workers. There weren't a lot of people here, so you basically met everyone that was on shift at the moment. The store was run by forty something people, including the office staff.
>At the end of your visit, Mr. Longchamp left you under the care of a young man - younger than Anon - tall, dark and unkept hair, poorly shaved and with a posture that screamed nothing but "please end my endless suffering." You understood that he is named Sylvain, and that he will be the one with which you're going to work until further notice. He looked at you with some uncertainty, you probably were an unexpected change in his routine.
>He address you with the most horrible french accent you ever heard, but with such a sluggish voice that you still manage to catch most of what he says.
>"*Sooo, the boss said you're not good with French?*"
>You slowly shake your head no, still looking at him in the eyes.
>He groans a swear you never heard before.
>"*Ooookay, you can catch ??? with your ???*"
>You tilt your head to the right. You don't understand his slang. You decide to try and guess what he is asking. You lift a hoof for emphasis.
"*Yes, I can catch items with my hoof.*"
>He frowns. Looks like you guessed wrong.
>"*No, your ???, the ??? on your head!*" He says, poking a finger at his forehead. You suddenly understand that he was talking about your horn.
"*Oh, no, can't do magic,*" you answer, shaking your head for emphasis.
>Another groan from Sylvain.
"*But I can do well with no magic!*"
>You're not really sure if you phrased that correctly, so you demonstrate your point by grabbing a nearby sack truck. You get on your hind legs and push the tool in front of him.
>"*Bravo, you're not useless,*" he says with a sarcastic tone.
>You sadly let go of the sack truck and get back on all fours, as the human goes on a rant about how useful you could have been if you could do magic. There are some words you didn't catch though, so you can't really tell if he is mad at you or if he just blames the universe.
>But eventually he seems to accept his fate, and shows you a stack of plastic crates alongside a dozen of flat trolleys. You deduce by the design of all this that the crates are meant to be stacked upon the trolleys.
>Sylvain explain you that you will have to take one of those trolley with some crates and roam the store with a shopping list. Follow the list, fill the crates with what's on it, come back here to get another list. Easy enough. The only difficulty is to be quick enough to complete all the lists in time for when the customers will come and get their orders.
>So you get yourself to work. Sylvain helps you by pilling some crates on the trolley, then you push it toward the exit of the stock, and into the store.
>...
>Thinking this task would be easily and quickly done had been a mistake. When they see your jacket, the customers always try to ask you where to find this, or what is the price of that. You regularly have to show the card around your neck that read "My apologies, I don't speak French well, please be patient with me." in French, of course.
>Some kind of dark magic is also at work in this store. You had been there weekly for some months now, and yet you can't find everything that is on your list, even common goods that you usually would have no problem to find. You suspect part of your list isn't even available in the store.
>Hopefully the rest of the week won?t go so badly.
>It?s been one week of this bullshit.
>The sun had set an hour ago.
>You are on the sidewalk, on your way back home from work. Today's shift had been exhausting.
>You had to help Sylvain to tidy the storehouse for tomorrow's delivery. You two spent the whole afternoon in there, moving pallets and boxes without a break. The upside was that you at least didn't see a single customer's face.

>It has been a week only and you already hated customers. These people really go out of their way to make your job harder, every single second of the day.
>"Where is the toilet paper?" In your ass, bitch.
>And forgetting to bring your pills didn't help in the slightest to improve your mood. You are just half a day late, and you already feel the effects of withdrawal. Your frogs are sweaty, knees weak, legs are heavy.
>You can't wait to finally have your first pay, even if you're probably going to be a bit disappointed in the end, given the small income defined in your contract. Slaves can't have nice things anyway.
>The portal to Anon's home is finally in view, and you trot a bit faster to get to it.
>You take out of your front pocket your ballpoint pen and use it to poke at the keypad lock. The portal opens, and you scurry in to reach the front door.
>As you enter the house, Anon, sitting on the couch, turns his head toward you before returning back to the TV.
>"Had a nice day?"
"The usual," you answer as you strip from your work's jacket.
>You hang the cloth on the coat rack, then trot to the couch. You hop on it and drop on your back, resting your head on Anon's thigh. You point to your neck, where your collar is still present.
"Can you set me free, please?"
>Anon obliges without delay, and carefully unclips the leather strap.
"Thank you," you say as he tosses the collar on the coffee table.
>"You're welcome, Vi'."
"Say, is there something to eat? I'm starving."
>"Yeah, I ordered a pizza when I got home, I left some for you."
>You don't move and try to put on the best puppy-face you could make. After a few seconds, Anon lowers his gaze to you.
>"No."
>You try harder and pucker a bit your lower lip.
>"Fuck you Vinyl I'm not going to fetch your pizza! I had a long day too, you know?"
>This man has no heart, you think as you immediately give up your cute pout for an annoyed scowl.
>You come back to the couch with the leftover pizza and your pills, then start eating beside him. He puts on the english dubbing for you, and you let him grab a slice of your pizza.
>When there is no food left, Anon grabs your plate and goes to the kitchen. He comes back with a beer for him and you.
>Still watching the movie on screen, you slowly lean against him, making yourself comfortable.
>Anon raises his arm and starts scratching at your ear. You can't help but moan a little at the touch.
"And you? How was your day?"
>Without averting his gaze from the TV, Anon just shrugged. "Boring, as usual."
>That made you realise that you knew very little about his job. You never really asked him about it.
"You don't like your job, Anon?"
>He stops scratching your ear and sighs. "No, not really. I just need it to pay the bills."
"What's so bad about it?"
>He doesn't answer right away, and instead turns his head to look at you.
>"Why do you want to know?"
"What, I shouldn't have asked? I just want to talk, dude."
>"It's ok, just... forget it. My job sucks because I don't like what I do, that's all."
"Oh. Well, why don't you just, you know, find something else?"
>"I've been thinking about it. It's not that simple, though."
"Why that? Is the money an issue?"
>He let out an annoyed sigh. "A bit, but that's not the main issue. Listen, Vi', I prefer not to talk about my work right now, can't we just enjoy the movie?"
>You hesitate for an instant, but decide not to bother him further.
"Hu, yeah, sorry."
>You resume drinking what's left of your beer, pondering.
>Anon is obviously depressed. You know for a fact that he doesn?t have many friends, and even then none of those friends live nearby. The closest was Luc, and he lived near Paris, a two hours drive from here. His only distraction is you, the TV, and his computer.
>It would probably be for the better to push him to go outside.
"Hey Anon, we should hang out together this weekend."
>He turns to you again, brow raised. "Ain't we doing precisely that already?"
>You chuckle, and make a vague motion with your hoof.
"Yeah, but I mean, go outside, do stuff, y'know?"
>"Hmm, something in mind?"
>You shrug.
"Dunno, we could eat somewhere, maybe saw a movie, anything, really. You've been doing nothing lately but slack on your computer or on the couch."
>"Good for me. But no thanks, really, I'm not in the mood."
"Come onnn," you groan, nudging him in the ribs with the tip of your hoof. "I wanna go outside, but I can't without you. You have to go with me!"
>"Fuck you, Vi'."
"You wish."
>He chuckles. "Okay, fine, we'll go eat something this saturday. Then we're gonna go to the park for a walk, uh? I'll just walk you around with the leash, would you like that?"
>He has take his pet-voice to say that, and although you know he meant that as a joke, it still hit too close to the wound.
"You're an asshole, Anon."
>Anon looks at you for a second before realizing what he just said. His smile fades instantly.
>"Shit, I'm sorry, Vi'. I didn't want to be rude, it's just a bad joke..."
"It's okay, I get it," you say, trying to not sound too annoyed. You still slide off to the side a little and cross your forelegs to pout a little.
>You know Anon is eyeing you in the corner, but you don't move and continue your mourning. You know he's going to give up shortly enough...
>And just as expected, you hear him sigh. "Okay, you want me to go fetch you a drink? Some chips also?"
>Nailed it, Anon always starts to feel guilty when he does something wrong, and always feels obligated to make up for it some way or another.
"Chips are fine, yes. And a beer too... buck I already had one? Just wait 'til I finish it."
>You raise the forgotten bottle to your lips and take a gulp.
"Bleh! It's warm already!"
>You turn your gaze to him, but he looks at you with a bit of sadness.
>"I'm sorry, Vi', you know the rule: You have to drink all your beer, before having another one."
>You know it's only fair, but you still hate this rule right now.

>Today you don't have to work. But you still have to get up, if only to make breakfast for Anon as he takes his morning shower.
>You don't have to do it, but you still do. It's a small payback for what he does for you.
>And it's not too much work. A coffee with two sugars, and two slices of bread spread with butter. It looks too bland for you, but Anon likes it that way. Sometimes on the weekend he adds a bit of jam, but that's it.
>You pour yourself a cup of coffee too, and wait for him to go out the bathroom. You weren't a fan of coffee, but you had to admit it really helped to wake up in the morning.
>Anon finally exits the bathroom, still struggling with his shirt's buttons. He approaches the table and lets himself fall on an empty chair before letting out a long sigh.
>"And to think that it's only wednesday... this week is going to kill me."
>You smile at him. Anon is as much a slave to his job than you were before that. You keep this thought to yourself, though.
"Don't worry, I'll think about you when I go back to my bed once you're gone."
>He shoots you a glare, but you just laugh before taking another sip of your drink.
>"Thanks for breakfast by the way," he mumbles, dipping one of his slice of bread in his coffee. He pulls out his phone, checks it then shouts. "Fuck I'm late!"
>You simply continue to stare at him, quietly sipping on your coffee. Anon gets up and tries to drink as much coffee as possible in the least amount of time, shouting and groaning as he burns his tongue in the process.
"Have a good day, Anon!" You say after he puts on his coat and opens the door.
>"You too Vi', see yah," he answers as he steps out. But instead of closing the door and go to his car, Anon froze on the spot. "Heu... Bonjour ?"
>Someone is at the door? Curious, you get down from your chair and trot to the door. Someone that you can't see right now is talking to Anon in a polite but firm voice.
>Anon steps back in and three men and woman follow behind. They all wear the same dark blue uniform, on which is written on the front and back "Gendarmerie." You immediately notice their heavy gear, and especially the firearms at their belt.
>One of them turns his attention to you and shows you with a finger. He says something, but you're currently too distraught to focus yourself on understanding French.
>Anon looks nervous, he is talking with the woman while one of the men looks around, the third is still facing you. You try to understand what is happening.
>It seems like you're concerned, something bad enough apparently. You get more worried and afraid as their conversation goes on. Something about the store, and... footing? You don't get that right. Anon looks agitated. He glance toward you, then looks at the woman, and back to you.
>"Okay... V-Vinyl, don't do anything, please," he orders you before rushing toward the stairs.
>The cops stay with you, and start to circle you, you notice. You get more and more nervous, hopefully Anon won't take too long.
>And he doesn?t. He quickly comes back with a folder in his hands, pulls out a paper and hands it to the woman. You recognize your identification papers.
>She takes a look, eyeing it quizzically. She flips the paper in her fingers, trying to catch the reflection of the light on it, but quickly puts it down, shaking her head.
>"*I'm sorry Mister Anon, b-*"
"Hey, get off!"
>You try to kick but it's too late. You were so focussed on Anon and that policewoman that you didn't notice the man next to you crouching down to clasp a collar on your neck. Anon quickly reacts and lurches forward, pushing away the woman, to come to your rescue. But the third one was ready and tackles down Anon.
>"Lâche la connard!"
>"On se calme! On se calme j'ai dis!"
>You crane your neck to bite the arm of the man next to you. He yells but promptly kicks you in the chest, emptying your lungs and making you fall. Your vision is blurred by the tears in your eyes, but you can see Anon struggling to get to you. Unfortunately, the woman had the time to get up and help her colleague to control a furious Anon.
>Something falls on your face and wraps around you muzzle. The policeman you bit finishes strapping the bridle on you and unkindly makes you stand up. Anon! You try to cry, but your breath is still short due to the blow you received. You're lead out ot the house, the man pulling hard on the leash without a care for your stumbling form.
>"Vinyl!"
>Hearing Anon's voice, you resist one last time to turn around. You just have the time to see his eyes, looking right at your own, before a rough tug on the bridle definitely forces you to exit the house.

-----

"Vinyl!"
>You see the white mare desperately fighting the leash to turn and look at you. Her eyes find yours, the red irises the size of pinprick. She looks terrified, and confused. You want to tell her that everything will be fine, that she will be back home very soon, but the bastard leading her out roughly pulls on the bridle, forcing her to pass the door, out of your sight.
>You try to get up, but the cop above you is putting all his weight on your back, and he has a good grip on your arm. You're not going anywhere.
>Defeated, you lower your head to the floor tiles, holding back your tears as best as you can.
>...
>You wake up with a start.
>It takes you minutes to calm your breathing.
>Glaring to the side, you grab your phone and look at the screen.
>3:50
>You swear and pull on your blanket to wipe your forehead. You know you're not going to fall back asleep anytime soon, so you get up and head to the bathroom.
>It's been three days. Three days since the police came in and took Vinyl away.
>They said her papers were fakes, that she entered the country via the black market. You had no clue, you bought her in a pet shop! The reason why said shop got destroyed in a fire last week was now no mystery.
>The good news was that you didn't got fined for possession of stolen goods, the store was a legit enough place to buy a pony at the time.
>The bad news was that you couldn't keep her. Without proper identification documents, Vinyl wasn't legally yours.
>The good news again, is that you now have three months to find two thousand euros to provide her with brand new and legal papers, before she is send to the auction.
>Bureaucracy is stupidly expensive, especially regarding pony paperwork.
>And yes, that's a good news. At least you have a way to get her back.
>You don't have that much money laying around though, especially since your ex moved out. But with some help and your next pay coming next week, you'll manage. Having to pay the rent by yourself really dug a hole in your pocket.
>Vinyl's job was supposed to help you with that, but in the end...
>The police knew about the fake papers because of the store's manager having to declare her, and provide a copy of her ID.
>Mr. Longchamp was mad to learn what had happen to Vinyl. He apparently really needed her help. He said he had to find another employee - probably another pony - but promised to keep Vinyl once she was out of her jail. Hopefully he will hold onto his promise. This job, as shitty as it was, really helped Vinyl to feel more free. Ironic, but still.
>You don't plan on letting her wait for too long in her cell anyway. Vinyl is your friend, probably the closest one you ever had. As pitiful as befriending your slave sounds, that's how it is for you.
>You're ready to do anything to help her. You took some more days off to have as much time as possible to solve this issue with the briefest delay. Your boss isn't too happy about it, but you promised to do overtime once you get back to make up for it.
>With the mood you were in, and your current emotional state, you weren't good to keep around at work anyway.
>Anyway, yesterday you went out and tried to get a loan. But with your current situation, no bank wanted to risk giving you money. Fucking crisis.
>Your plan for today was to ask left and right for money. Family, friends, work... anyone you could think off.
>You turn on the sink and splash some water on your face. You also pour yourself a glass of water and down it right away.
>That helps you feel better after that bad dream, but you know you should go back to sleep, you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.

>You listen to the ringtone, waiting for Luc to pick up his phone. You absentmindedly tap a finger against the list in front of you. Two names followed by numbers are already striked, less than half a dozen are left.
>After a while, Luc finally answers your call.
>"Hallo ? Anon ?"
"Hi Luc, how are you?"
>"Hey, pretty fine I must say. Guess what?"
"What?"
>"I got myself a pony, too!"
"What!? Seriously? Dude, I thought you didn't want to get involved into that slavery thing?"
>"Yeah that's the point actually. There is that rescue center, it's a NGO, they save ponies that are on the run, or mistreated by their owners. Then they heal them and look for a nice person to take them in!"
"I didn't know you qualify as a nice person."
>"Ha-ha, really funny! I had to fill in a questionnaire and someone came to my house to check if it was good enough."
"Ok, that sounds great and all, but I don't really see the difference between that and just buying your pony in a pet-store. You're still giving your money to a system that profit from slavery."
>"Not at all, and that's the best part : I am not the legal owner of the pony, the NGO is! They just allow me to house her, I'm like a host family. And I don't have to pay them anything, really!"
"How do they make money then?"
>You can almost hear him shrug. "They don't? I guess they only rely on state subvention and charity. It's a veterinarian that came up with this whole thing, go figure."
"That sounds too good to be true... So you have your own pony now? What's their name? How do they look?"
>"I only know her name for now, it's Fleetfoot. She will be here tomorrow afternoon."
"You don't know anything else?"
>"No, they told me nothing. They don't so this way all their ponies have a chance of getting a new home. But I bet she's a normal pony, you know, with no horn or wings."
"That sounds fair. Send me some pictures."
>"Will do. Say, why did you call me for?"
"Uh... I have a problem, it's Vinyl. I told you I got her a job?"
>You explain him what happen with the papers, the police intervention...
>"Wait, you fought the Gendarmes!?"
"It wasn't really a fight, to be honest..."
>"I can imagine. No offence dude."
"Eh, I'm not a fighter. And it would have been pretty dumb to try and mess with them."
>"Yeah. What happen then?"
"I'll skip the details, but in the end, Vinyl is in jail, or something like that. I can get her back if I pay the fee for her new papers, but I have three months to do so. After that, she will be sold at an auction house."
>Silence answers you from Luc's side.
"They ask two thousand. I know it's not that much, but it's been a bit tough lately... I just need a little help, I'll pay you back as soon as I can, promise!"
>"Uh, I... I don't know, I mean, I'm going to have a pony too, and I'll probably have to buy new stuff for her."
>He is going to say no, too. You know that Luc isn't the wealthiest, but you still hoped that he would do something for you. Fifteen, maybe a hundred would have been a lot already. 
>"I- I'll see what I can do, dude. I'm sorry."
>You run a hand through your hair, holding your sigh in to not let Luc hear it.
"It's ok, Luc. I know it's not easy for you either."
>"Yeah, still, I wish I could help you."
"Send me some pictures of that pony of yours, that'll cheer me up to see one of them has found a nice place to live."
>"Oh, so you consider me a nice dude finally?"
"That's certainly not what I said."
>You smile as Luc's laugh comes out of your phone's speaker. 
"Okay, I have some more people to call. You're down for some games tonight?"
>"I am. See you tonight then!"
"See you, bye."
>You end the call and take a look at your list. Next line reads "Anne."
>You stop a minute, staring at your ex's number on the paper, right next to her name. You're still not quite sure why you wrote it in your list. You haven't talked to her since when she came by to grab her things. She tried to send you a text the week after that but you never answered back. Why would she give you some money to help you get your pony back anyway? She never liked Vinyl, she only agreed to get her so that she would have someone else to take care of the chores.
>Plus, asking your ex to help get your new girlfriend out of jail didn't really sound like a good idea.
>You blush a bit at your own though. Why did you just think about Vinyl as your girlfriend? She's nothing like that, you don't have that kind of relationship yet. No, not 'yet'! You don't have that kind of relationship at all!
>Ok, sure she's nice and cool and kind of cute, but you're not one to try and make a move on your pony slave. Except that Vinyl isn't your slave, you go out of your way to make that clear with her... but still, she is legally your property, and she never really had a choice in the beginning to spend all this time with you or not. It doesn?t feel right, and never will.
>You angrily strike Anna's number on your list to put an end to that train of thought and check the next number.
>Well, you can't say that this number looks more pleasant than the previous one. Not in the same way though.
>It's been a while since you last called your parents, and they will make you feel bad for it, that's for sure.
>You deserve it, to be honest.
>With a sigh, you dial the number on your screen and listen to the ringtone. It's not long before your mother answers, she probably jumped on the phone the instant she saw your name on her screen.
>"Anon, mon poussin, how are you!? It's been so long why don't you call more often?"
>Energic much. But you were ready for that.
"I'm sorry Mom, I know I should give more news, but you know how I am..."
>You never were one to call others just to make small talk. That's probably why you lost touch with all of your school friends, when you think about it.
>"Nevertheless, you could at least send me a text from time to time. So what's new? Everything is alright? How is Anne?"
"I fear that Anne and me aren't a thing anymore, Mom. We had an argument some weeks ago, and we broke up for good."
>"Oh, I'm sorry for you, dear," she says, but you know well that she isn't sorry at all. Anne and Mom didn't quite like each other.
"It's okay, I kind of knew this was bound to happen anyway... I still miss her, though."
>"Don't worry, 'une de perdue, dix de retrouvées' as they say. You'll find someone else soon enough."
"Yeah, well, for now I don't really seek company. Although I did had some at home until recently."
>"Oh, really? This soon? What's her name?"
"Stop right there, Mom, I'm not actually talking about that kind of company, I'm more talking about friendly company. You remember how I talked about getting a pony someday?"
>There's a short silence, before you hear your Mother let out a disappointed breath. "Please don't tell me you bought a pony to replace your girlfriend, Anon..."
"Oh for fuck sakes, Mom, I told you it's not like that! Besides, I had Vinyl at least a week before Anne and me broke up."
>"Vinyl? That's her name?"
"Yes. She's a white unicorn with a blue mane."
>"Exotic. And why do you have her? I heard those ponies can do housework, she does?"
"Well, yes, she helps a bit with that."
>You almost say that you mostly consider Vinyl as your friend rather than your maid, but decide against it. You're not too sure what is Mom's opinion about ponies.
"But I'm calling you about her, actually. I have an issue, and I'll be frank I need money..."
>"What's happening, dear? Nothing too bad I hope?"
"Well, kind of. I bought her in a small store, and it turns out that Vinyl was imported to France via the black market. The store gave me fake papers, and the police somehow knew about it. They came in last wednesday and took her away. I can have her back, but I need to pay for new papers. They ask me two thousand."
>Your Mom gasp. "Two thousand? Anon, that's a lot of money! Can't you just buy another pony? Wouldn't it be cheaper?"
>It's true that Vinyl cost you less than that in the first place, but she was way far below the usual price. They ranged up from two thousand and five hundred, to more than ten thousand. Vinyl cost you only a thousand, at first you thought it was because she couldn't use magic, had a severed ear and didn't know French, but now you know better as to why she was so cheap. But still, having her back has nothing to do with money.
"Not really, ponies are seriously expensive, you know? And I spent money on her already, she's mine and I want her back."
>She sigh. "This is still a lot of money... Are you sure you want to spend that much?"
"Yes, Mom, I'm sure. I just need a little help for now, but I'll be able to pay you back soon enough, don't worry."
>"I do worry. Listen, I'll talk with your father and see how much we can give you. But you have to promise me you'll give more news from now on!"
>You chuckle, relieved to know that she is accepting to help.
"Okay Mom, I promise I will."
>"Good... Nevertheless, you really are unlucky, for once that the police do something, it has to fall on you."
"Yeah, you're not the first to point that out," you answer, rolling your eyes in an exasperated maner.
>You do some more small talk with your mother, mostly learning about the latest additions in her garden, before wishing her goodbye and hanging up.
>It went better than you feared, you can expect a nice amount coming from them. Knowing your mother, and if she can convince your dad enough, you'll probably won't have to beg for money to someone else. You will still do, just in case. You only have three numbers left to call anyway.
>But just as you are going to dial the next number, an unknown caller appears on your phone. Raising your brow, you slide your thumb on the "answer" button.
>"Alissa Nicecop, police department, is this Anon Yme I am speaking to?"
>The police? What do they want this time?
"Hu, yes, it's me."
>"Sir, I'm calling about the pony we found at your home last wednesday. I'm afraid that she fell sick. She doesn't speak French quite well, but one of our colleague understood that she is taking magical suppressants, is this true?"
>Oh fuck, she hasn't had them since last tuesday! She is supposed to take them every two days!
"Yes! Yes that's true! She really need them because those shit are drugged, you must give them to her as soon as possible, please!"
>"Don't worry, Sir, this is what we were told. But we need to know exactly what kind of pills she takes."
"Right, just wait a minute."
>You don't waste any more time and get up to go fetch the bottle of pills. It's almost empty, and the label is partially faded out, but you still manage to identify the brand and some more information that you promptly communicate to the policewoman.
>"Thank you, Sir, that will probably do. I'll call you back if we need more information."
"A-Alright, then. Please, before you hang up, can you tell me where she is? I'm really worried about her, your colleagues didn't even let me tell her goodbye!"
>"I'm sorry to hear that, Sir, but I'm afraid I can't tell you where she is kept. But do not worry, she is well taken care of where she is."
>There is a small pause before she speaks up again.
>"If you want, I can call you back to inform you about her, and tell her something from you?"
"Yes, please, that would be awful nice of you... tell her I'm doing my best to have her back, she won't stay away for too long."
>"Will do, Sir. Well, I'm going to give this info to the vet, thank you for your help, have a nice day, Sir."
"Thanks, you too."
>Once more the conversation ends, leaving you alone in front of your list, and an almost empty bottle of magic suppressant pills in your hand.

-----

>"Vinyl!"
>Anon's last word echoes in your head as you're led through the corridors.
>Left and right cells line the walls, all kinds of dogs trapped inside them.
>Aside from their occupants, these cells are particularly empty. Nothing more than a basket or a rug to lay on, sometimes both.
>The man leading you tugs roughly on the leash, almost strangling you for a second.
>You want to protest, but the harness around your muzzle is fastened too tightly. That's probably a good thing though, your loud mouth could cause you more problems.
>That policeman already kicked you pretty hard, not only at Anon's home, but also in their van, away from his sight.
>You rump is bruised, and your jaw still hurts.
>The cells around you are now empty, but the man doesn?t stop, apparently you're going to the far end of this place.
>As you approach the last two cells, you notice that one of them is in fact occupied. A light blue mare with a greyish mane is sitting close to her cell's bars, squinting her eyes at you.
>She doesn't say a word as the man fumbles in his pockets. He takes out a set of keys and opens the door to the cell in front of the mare's.
>The interior is the same as every other cell, minus the basket.
>The man unclasps the leash from your neck and walks away, closing the door behind him. He didn?t even remove the harness from your muzzle!
>You look in his direction, panicked, trying to knock on the bars to get his attention but he doesn't even look back.
>"Don't worry, Katty will be coming soon, she'll remove it."
>You turn your gaze toward the other mare, brow raised.
>"She is the one who keeps an eye on me - well, us now - so she probably won't take long to come and see you."
>Yeah, you're not waiting to get this thing off. You raise your hooves and try to grasp the leather straps, but the buckle is giving you a hard time.
>"My name is Comic Strip, by the way. Don't worry, you'll tell me yours later," she says, giggling a bit at your misfortune.
>A rattling sound comes from down the corridor, too far away for you to see through the bars though. A feminine voice emits a loud curse shortly after.
>"Like I said, that's Katty already coming for you!"
>You give up on removing the harness by yourself and wait until a small woman with bright orange hair and a pair of large glasses on her nose finally comes into view, pushing a barrowful of dried hay in front of her.
>"Bonjour Comic !" She exclaims happily, receiving the same greeting from the grey-maned mare. "Et bonjour t- *Oh seriously!?*"
>She lets go of the wheelbarrow and looks at you with an angry glare, cursing some more and apparently complaining, you don't quite understand about what or who exactly, maybe yourself?
>She opens the door and walks toward you, her hand outstretched. You back away to dodge her, but you can't get far!
>Thankfully Katty stops there, brow raised.
>"*Hey, what is it?*" She asks in a much softer tone. But as you can just stare worriedly, she adds: "*I just want to remove this.*"
>She approaches again, but this time you let her. You wince as the straps brush against your jaw, but are still thankful to finally be able to talk and to breathe more comfortably again.
"Thank you... Katty?"
>The girl makes a confused face for a second before asking: "You speek angliche?"
"Uh, yes? I can speak a bit of French, but I'm still learning."
>"Oh, zis iz okay, I can speek angliche!" She says with a smile. "My name iz Catherine, beut you can call mi Katty."
>She smiles at you, then her eyes travel up from your eyes to the top of your head. "Hey, ouat happen to your ear?" She asks, pointing at your left.
>You are a bit surprised that she noticed it, usually humans didn't, mostly because you tend to brush the most of your hair on this side. But it's true that at least the tip of you ear should have been poking out of your mane.
"Uh, nothing, just, stuff happened..."
>"Can I taike a look?"
>You don't feel too comfortable to let her do, not even Anon took a close look at your injury. Thought he never asked for it.
>"You can let her do, she knows what she is doing!" Exclaims Comic Strip from her cell.
>Leaning a bit to the right, you take a look at the other pony. She is smiling and nodding in your direction, as if to confirm that Katty has nothing but good intentions.
>After a last look at the human, you nod as well and tilt your head to the right.
>Katty gently brushes a strand of hair away, then breathes some air in between her teeth.
>"Oh mon dieu, zis looks nasty! Zat meust have hurt a lot!"
"Y-yeah..."
>She inspects the wound more closely, humming softly as she adjusts her glasses up her nose. "It iz not nice to look at, beut it haz healed correctly."
>Katty finally lets go of you ear and backs away. "Do you have any other injury like zis?"
>You jaw and your rump hurt, but you decide not to whine about it. It's just some bruises, they will heal by themself soon enough. You shake you head.
>"Good. So, they told me your name is Vinyl Scratch, zats it?"
>"VINYL SCRATCH!?"
>The sudden shouting makes both Katty and you jump in surprise. You turn your attention to Comic Strip, the mare now up on her hind legs, grabbing the bars of her cell and pressing her face between them to take a close as possible look at you.
>"The Vinyl Scratch? Seriously!? Katty, give me your glasses, please! I have to see her!"
>You curiously watch as Katty gets up then removes her glasses to carefully place them on Comic's snout. So that's why she looked at you so strangely... The mare suddenly stops squinting as she can finally see you correctly. Her mouth opens slightly after some seconds of staring.
>"Oh my gosh! Vinyl I'm such a huge fan!"
>She drops on her haunches and raises her hooves to her cheeks.
>"Oh my Celestia I can't believe you're here!"
>Then her smile turns upside down.
>"Oh my Celestia I can't believe you're here..."
>"You two nau each other?"
>"No, not really. She is a DJ, she does electro music. Well, did, I suppose now."
>It took you a moment to realise that Comic was actually asking you a question.
"Oh, yeah, no, sorry, I stopped making music."
>Comic makes a sad face for a moment, then she removes Katty's glasses and hoofs them back to their owner.
>"Well, despite the situation, I'm still happy to meet one of my favorite ponies. Thanks, Katty."
>"Iou are well-comme," answers the woman.
>Katty then empties the barrow in a corner of your cell, making an as nice as possible bed of dried hay for you to lay on. She also drops a pair of plaid on it, warning you about the chilliness of the night in there. She then quickly gives you some information about how the kennel works: two meals a day, a walk in the backyard in the late afternoon, vet visit on monday. She also explains that this place was in no way intended to host ponies, hence the lack of commodities in your cell. You are relieved to learn that you are allowed to ask the keepers if you need to use the toilets, they will let you use the staff's bathroom.
>"And zats about it. I will not be here for ze next two days, and my shift end in a hour. I will see you saturday, au-revoir les filles !"
>With a last smile, she grabs the barrow and makes her way back to where she first came.
>Man, only one walk outside of this cell per day? You're in for the most boring time of your life.
>"So, why are you here?"
>Thank the princesses you have someone to talk to.
>As you try to make your bedding more to your liking, you start the conversation with Comic, starting your story from the beginning. You don't go too much into details, but you still answer her questions when she asks for details about Anon.
>Once you are done, Comic Strip doesn't even wait for you to ask to tell her own story. It turns out that she is here for the exact same reason as you are. Her owner bought her some months ago in the same shop Anon found you. She also were smuggled in France, and thus was found without valid papers. The circumstance she was found out though wasn't quite the same.
>Her owner got knocked over while they were out for a walk. He went to a hospital, but Comic wasn't allowed to stay with him. So the humans sent her here, and only then they realized that her identification papers were fakes. That was only a week ago.
>"But it's okay, I know he will come back for me once he gets better. Last time they gave me news they said he was stable, and they said it was thanks to me, because I reacted quickly to call the emergency services."
"Sounds like you like him quite a lot."
>"Of course I like him! Why, you don't like your human?"
"Well, yes, I do, but... y'know, the whole 'slavery' thing."
>Comic's ears fall a bit on her head, but she keeps smiling and just shrug.
>"It's not perfect, but I guess I just got used to it. And I don't really feels like a slave with him, to be honest. I have plenty of liberty. I know he bought me to be his g-'girlfriend', but he has never forced me to do anything, really."
>You're not really comfortable with the way the conversation is heading, so you try to change the subject.
"It's been a long time since you came on earth?"
>"It's been about two years."
"What did you do before that?"
>Oh, you ever read the Power Ponies? Or the Amazing Spiderpone?"
>You shrug. You did read some of those, but not enough to really care.
"Yeah, like everypony I suppose. You did them?"
>"Not the main storyline, no, but I did draw for some of the special issues. Maybe you read 'Spiderpone versus Sinister Wave'?"
>Now that rings a bell. You remember that villain using ridiculously powerful subwoofers to destroy everything in Manehattan. And more specifically you remember that this bad guy  was wearing the exact same shades as yourself.
"Oh gosh I totally remember that! That villain was cool!"
>"Thanks! Initially he just had a white suit with some sort of gasmask, but then I drew him without the mask and wearing your shades. The writers lost their mind when they saw that, those glasses are so cool. Do you still have them?"
>You sit on your haunches, before quickly getting up and hissing at your bruised rump. With a grimace you sit back, this time on the much softer stack of hay, before answering the mare's question.
"No, I lost everything I had when they caught me."
>"Oh, of course... Don't you get new ones? You told me your master was a really nice human, he probably bought you a new pair, right?"
>Again, this conversation is making you uncomfortable. You accept your new life, but that doesn't mean you enjoy bringing up the old one. You decide then to be frank with Comic.
"No, I don't want to have a new pair. Comic, I'm a slave now. It's been four years, and despite whatever Anon thinks about it, it's just the way it is. I'm not Pon-3 anymore, I will never be that pony again. Buck..."
>Your turn your head to the side and quickly wipe the tear that rolled on your cheek. You clear your throat.
"I just want to move on, and to let all this behind me."
>Silence fills the room for a moment, before the soft, timid voice of Comic Strip breaks it.
>"That's too bad, I miss your music."
"..."
>"And not only me, there's many other ponies that miss your music."
"I-I miss it too, Comic, but-"
>"And not only ponies, humans too! Don't you realize that actually no one of them actually ever heard your music!?"
"Hey, I'm sorry, Comic, but I said it already : I'm not that pony anymore."
>From her, cell, Comic just stares in your direction - to what you suppose to her must be nothing more than a white blur.
>"You could as much say that you're not even a pony anymore. Don't you understand? Humans have no idea what we ponies are capable of accomplishing. Pony culture is about to die! Listen, my Master, he simply loves music! He shared with me all of what he likes to hear, thousands of songs, from thousands of artists! There are a lot of incredible, talented humans out there, but no one, I insist, no one sounds like you!"
>"You're just exaggerating, Comic. And what about the other musicians? I'm not the only one there ever was in Equestria!"
>But the mare just shakes her head.
>"I spent countless hours trying to find our music on youtube. No Pon-3, no Coloratura, no Songbird, no Royal Philharmonic Orchestra of Canterlot, nothing..."
"That can't be-"
>"I miss your music, Vinyl! I miss our music. Ponies out there miss it, too! I-I'm sorry I don't want to feel like I am forcing this on you, but... please, don't give up on your special talent. It's too important, for you, but also for us, ponies."
>You are at a loss for words. You didn't expected this. How could you? In the opposite cell, Comic is slightly shaking, more from anger or sadness, you couldn't tell. You fumble a bit with your words before successfully producing an intelligible sentence.
"That's a lot you are asking for, Comic. What I went through... I don't want to let you guys down, but, right now, this is too much."
>"So, you want to be a slave for the rest of your life?"
"I did- didn't said that."
>"If you choose to let go of your special talent, this is just like it!"
"Leave me alone!"
>You catch your breath as you realise you just yelled on her. You quickly step back and turn to your couch.
"Just leave me alone, at least for now."
>You lay yourself on the stack of hay, your back facing Comic. The mare doesn't say anything more, and by the sound of it, also choose to just sit on her own improvised couch.
>You try to calm your nerves, breathing slowly and focusing your gaze on the grey wall. Behind you, you can hear a quiet sniffling.
>The first pony you met and can really talk to in months, maybe years, and you already made her cry. Way to make new friends, Vinyl. Twilight Sparkle would be proud of you.

>You didn't talk to Comic until one of the keepers came to fetch you both for the daily walk in the backyard. You two apologized to each other for your behavior, and took some more time to talk more pleasantries, walking side to side around the fairly sized yard, a human keeping an eye on you from a distance. 
>Comic did insist about the importance of you doing music again, to share and show the human how capable ponies were. Thankfully she didn't put as much pressure on it as previously, and quickly changed topic.
>The first night wasn't as bad as you expected, the blankets were comfortable enough and kept the cold away. It was also fairly quiet, due to your cells behind as far away as possible to the others, but not too quiet, as Comic snored a little in her sleep. But that didn't bother you too much, it was actually better than pure silence.
>The real bad news came the day after, when a feeling of nausea and a cramp in your legs reminded you that it was time for you to take your pills.
>Explaining to the keepers what you needed had been proved difficult, despite Comic helping with the translation. And by the time one of the humans called the vet for advice, the effects of withdrawal had started to be too painful for you to be able to focus on anything else.
>You had to wait one more day for the vet to finally come to give you the proper pills. You have no idea what took them so long, but when you saw the pills in the hand of the human, you welcomed them like the new alicorn.
>One more day without your dose and you would have died. This you are certain.
>They had allowed Comic to come directly in your cell to keep you company and to check on you while you recovered. It took some time, but after a few days you were feeling as good as new, and you could finally go for a walk in the yard again.
"Sweet Celestia, I missed some fresh air!" You exclaim happily as you take your first steps in the grass.
>"Take it easy, Vinyl, the vet said-"
"Buck the vet!"
>With a laugh you take a slow gallop through the yard, Comic following you enthusiastically. It's not long though before you have to stop, panting more than you should.
>"Told you!"
"Yeah... It was... worth it..."
>You let yourself drop on your side, content to feel the grass on your fur. Almost a week trapped inside, having nothing to do but suffer all day... really being outside right now mean the world to you!
>Comic and you just enjoy laying here for some time, engaging in a small conversation about how nice it is to go outside. It quickly drifts to "how nice would it be to actually be outside", then to "how nice would it be to be back to Equestria."
>Once again the mood falters a bit, but by now you got used to it.
>"Oh and by the way, once we get out we should keep contact! Do you have an email address?"
"Uh, not really, I used Anon's one until now. I don't have much use for it anyway."
>"Well, now you'll have! I'll ask Katty for a pen and paper to note my adress for you. That way, once you're out too, you'll just have to mail me!"
"Sounds like a good idea, Comic. I would definitely like to keep touch with you."
>"Yay! One more pony friend!"
>You smile gently at her enthusiasm. It's true though when you think about it that you don't have many pony friends here on earth. To be honest you weren't quite in the mood to make friends when you first arrived, and once you were sold to that asshole you never got many opportunities to go outside his property.
>And here in France, outside the big cities, ponies are quite a rarity.
>"Hey, you don't even have a soundcloud?"
"What? Oh no, I use it only to listen, but I told you, I don't make music anymore."
>Her ears go down on her head. "Sorry, I won't insist..."
>You take a moment contemplating her expression. You can't help but sigh a little.
"Say, what was you favorite album?"
>She perks up a bit. "You mean, from yours?"
"Yeah."
>"Oh, ?Mourning Moon? was totally one of my favorites!"
"What? Really? Mare, that one was pretty dark back in the day..."
>"Yes, but it spoke to me at the time. It was before I got hired to draw for Power Ponies, I was really struggling to find a job. It was really hard for me, because I never had a job related to my special talent, and I was starting to ask myself questions. Do I really deserve my cutie mark? What if there had been a mistake? Or what if I wasn't just good enough?"
>You know that feeling. A lot of ponies went through that phase, especially ponies having an art-related cutie mark. Many ponies were born with a unique ability that pushed them to create absolute masterpieces... which sadly were too elaborate for their times, and received the attention they truly deserved far long after their author passed away.
>Difficult to believe in yourself in those conditions.
>"But, when I first listened to your album," Comic continued, "it was as if someone had put my emotions in music. I listened to it for days, drawing all the while. I ended up making a short comic, no more than ten pages, and it was almost speechless. I showed it to my dad - he owned a comic store in Phillydelphia - and he published it. Not a week after did I received a letter, offering me a job to work on the Power Ponies series!"
"Wow..." is all you could just say.
>It feels really weird to know that your own work had so much impact in the life of another pony. As if you created your music with a purpose, without even knowing it.
>"That's why I am such a fan of your music. I always worked listening to it since that time. And..."
>She marks a pause, lowering her gaze to the grass between her outstretched hooves. But instead of going on, she just shakes her head.
>"Sorry, I shouldn't insist that much, I can't force you to go on if that's not what you want."
>She turns to you with a smile on her face.
>"Don't be sad because it's over, be happy because it happened. That's what Master always says."
"He does sounds like a wise man."
>Comic giggles at that. "He may sound like it, but he's definitely not!"
>You share a laugh with her as she tells memories of her little misadventures with her owner.
>Your chatting is interrupted when Katty walks up to you and Comic.
>"Aaaw, it's time already? Can't we have some more minutes, please?"
>"No, Comic, it's..."
>The woman looks at your friend, then at you, then back at your friend. She let out a sigh and sits on the grass, crossing her legs under her in the strangest of ways.
>It looks like it should hurt. Human anatomy is bucked up.
>You're pushed out of your thoughts when Katty speaks again.
>"Comic, it's about your Masteur," she started, talking in such a grim tone that you feel Comic Strip tensing next to you.
>"He waz in a coma sinse ze accident, he was stable enought to not worry too muche, but..."
>You freeze, mouth agape. A quiet whimper comes from Comic.
>"I jeust got a call from ze hospital, his heart jeust stopped beating. Vey couldn't do any fing."

>Day sixteen at the kennel.
>This place is what you can only describe as a prison cell. And you know what you're talking about, you paid a visit to Canterlot's cells more than once.
>Good times.
>Since Comic left, sent to the auction after her owner's death, you didn't have much to do. Not like you had much to do when she was around anyway, but the company was more than welcome, at least you could talk. But, for the past week, you just... waited. Sprawled upon your stack of hay, you waited, staring at the wall, silently playing some music in our head by memory.
>Two times a day, Katty or one of the others came to bring you a meal, and maybe talk to you a bit. This was your ultimate entertainment in this hole of boringness.
>And it was time for such entertainment.
>A door at the end of the corridor is opened, and soon the sound of footsteps as well as a trolley comes closer to your cell. Katty appear from the left, and waves at you with a friendly smile.
>"Elo Vinyle, owe are iou touday?" She asks in her usual accent.
"Bonjour, Katty..." You answer half-heartedly, not even bothering to get up.
>She grabs a food tray from the trolley and places it next to you on the ground. Taking a quick glance, you notice that it's the same as usual: a bunch of uncooked vegetables and some fruits. It is far from being the worse you've been fed here in this world, but after being fed the same over and over, as well as being used to Anon's fridge before that, it's hard to not complain.
>"Not filing taulky? Zate iz au-kay. Jeust telle me iffe iou need somme fing!" She keeps smiling at you.
"Thank you, Katty."
>It's not really that you don't feel like talking, it's more that you don't really have anything to say. Nothing that wouldn't be quickly depressing that is.
>You don't know how many more days you will be here. You don't know what will happen to you if Anon doesn't get you out this place. Well, you know that you will be sold at an auction, but what after that? Literally anyone could buy you there, and Celestia know what kind of psycho could be your future owner.
>You hope nothing too bad happened to Comic.
>...
>You miss Anon so much.
>With a hoof you pull the food tray toward you and bite into a carrot. You focus your mind on the taste, pushing away any dark thoughts... until your eyes fall on the pair of pills sitting next to the bowl.
>The events of your first few days in this place come back to your memory. Man you wish you could never feel like that ever again.
>These pills make you feel sick like nothing else, although they do nothing good to you. After taking them, you don't feel relaxed, you don't even see nice colors, nothing like that. It just prevents you from using magic.
>Yet your body asks you to take them regularly. Whatever happens in the future, you will ever be a slave to this drug forever.
>And no, there is no way you could go through withdrawal to get off of it. The pain it inflicts you, it's like if your body starts to fight itself.
>You're sure humans designed them that way, to inflict as much pain as possible in the shortest timespan. You realized you were hooked to them months after starting, but you're pretty sure you were actually dependant after the first one you ate.
>It's been only four years, but it feels like the last time you cast a spell was in another life. It was, actually, in a way. Even if you somehow sobered up from the pills, you're not sure you would remember how to do magic anymore, heck you don't even remember how it feels.
>A drop of water crashes on the tray, right next to the white pills. You frown.
>You scoop the drugs in your hoof and bring them to your mouth, then you wipe the tears you didn't realize were there in the first place and finally resume eating.

>A rattling on the bars of your cell wakes you up with a start. This time it's Franck.
>Is it day seventeen? No, the food tray is still here, it must not have been more than an hour. How can you feel so tired after such a short nap? Really this cell is killing you.
>Franck doesn't know a single word of English, and he doesn't seem to be willing to do some efforts to ease the conversation between you and him. But he opens the door of your cell and motions for you to follow him.
>It's not time for your walk, though. What does he wants?
>You're not too reassured, Franck is quite an ass. But it's better to not to act like one yourself.
>Once you got close enough he clips a leash on your collar and starts leading you.
>To your surprise, you are not going toward the yard, nor to the vet's office, but to the reception desk.
"Hey, where are we- hum, *where us go?*"
>"*You're out,*" you understand him saying. What does that mean? Is... is Anon finally here? Or are you being  sent to the auction?
>Franck opens the last door to the reception, and your eyes fall on the man leaning against the desk. His face turns to yours and he stares back without much apparent interest. This man looks nothing like Anon, and if you have to guess by his clothing and the set of keys he's toying with, this man is a transporter.
>This is it, you are going away and will never see Anon again. You're going back to the auction, where you will be sold at an extra discount price to some psychotic rapist that will eventually gut you to- 
>"Vinyl!"
>Turning to your right you see Anon walking at a fast pace toward you, a huge dopey grin plastered on his face. He quickly nods to Franck and takes the leash off his hands, before crouching down to your level, his free hand reaching to your mane to pet you.
>"How are you? You're not hurt I hope? Hungry? I'm sorry I couldn't get you sooner, I-"
>You're not even able to react at first. To see him so close just after realizing you would never see him ever again, after those weeks that really felt like months trapped in this cell... you feel a rush of emotions, contorting your face in a grimace of pain, anger, joy and relief despite all your efforts to keep all those feelings in check.
>You lurch toward him, clinging to him with both hooves and burying your face in his neck.
>"Woaw, easy Vi'! There, it's ok, I' won't go."
>You pay no attention to whatever he is saying, you just keep your grip on him. He starts talking in french, probably to Franck, but at this point you don't even hear them anymore. You want to cry, to scream, but the pain in your chest is too strong.
>Where do all of this come from? Why are you reacting like this? Yes, you missed him, but it's actually like if seeing Anon after so long makes you realize just how much you missed him.
>What if he hadn't come back? What if that man at the counter had took you to the auction? What if your next owner had been like your first one?
>You are afraid to let go of Anon now, thankfully he doesn't push you away. On the contrary, you feel his arms wrap around your back and under your rear, then Anon lifts you up from the ground.
>"Ok, Vinyl, let's go home," he says, exchanging some last words with Franck before heading out of the kennel.
>You don't let go of him until he drops you on the passenger seat. The familiar smell of his car soothes you a bit, and you quickly dry your tears with your hooves while Anon goes around the car to take his seat behind the wheel.
>Your turn your head away from him, pretending to struggle with your seat belt to avoid his look some more seconds.
>What had gotten into you? Why in tartarus did you react like that? That's totally not like you, you used to keep your emotions in check most of the time! So why?
>You suddenly tense as you feel Anon's hand resting on your withers. You keep your face away from him, too ashamed to let him see your tears, even if you crying on his shoulder had been more than obvious at this point.
>"I'm happy to see you too, Vi'."

-----

>You almost cried when you finally got back to your room, finding it just the way you left it two weeks ago.
>It feels so good to be back.
>You walk down the stairs to join Anon on the couch, a movie ready to play and a cold beer awaiting you.
>You hop on the couch and grab the drink Anon offers you. After clicking your bottles together, you take a long sip of your beer, savoring the bitterness of the beverage.
>This is what liberty feels like, you think as you lean back in the couch and against Anon.
"Thank you Anon, I needed this".
>"You're welcome."
>You drink some more, quietly enjoying the warmth of the human beside you. Anon too seems to enjoy the proximity, as he raises his arm up on the back of the couch, allowing you to snuggle up even closer.
>Though this isn't really snuggling, you two are just good friends, right?
>Good, close friends.
>...
"By the way, Anon, about, you know, the hug at the kennel and... it was..."
>"Oh yeah, don't worry, it's alright. I- I was as happy to see you again," he says, awkwardly looking away while scratching his day-old beard.
>A few seconds pass as you both drink in silence.
>"So, how it was? It's ok if you don't want to talk about it."
"Well, it wasn't the most pleasant time of my life, for sure."
>"I guessed. How did it go with your pills? They called me to ask questions, that got me worried sick!"
"Oh, that was... ok. I just got a bit nauseous, that's all," you lie. You don't really see the point in telling him the truth here, no need to stress him more about it, you feel better now anyway.
>"Good, I still wish we could do something about it. Maybe ask a doctor."
"I'm not too sure, Anon."
>"Vi', that can't go on forever. This shit is not good for you, I'm sure it does more to you than just blocking your magic. And about that, wouldn't it be cool if you could do magic again?"
"Really, it's not that bad, I don't feel bad whatsoever, and I do just fine without magic."
>"And what if they stop making them? What if we suddenly run out? Seriously, they are not cheap either, what if I lack the money to get you those?
>You know he's right. But just thinking about not taking them, it makes you feels weird. In a bad way.
"Anon, I- I'll think about it, ok? Not right now, but, yeah, I'll think about it."
>Better change the subject.
"What about you? I've been told that you would have to pay for new papers to have me back, but I don't even know how much that cost. How bad was it?"
>"Oh, well... it was expensive, for sure. Not that expensive though, but, you know, with Anne gone it's been pretty rough to pay the rent with just my income."
>There's a stop as he empties what's left of his drink, then sets the bottle on the coffee table.
>"I borrowed money from Luc and from my parents. I know they're cool if I don't give them their money back right away, but I would prefer if I don't let this hang up for too long. It's not healthy to let money go between you and your friends or family."
"I'll help you, Anon! Shit, you think I can have my job back at the store?"
>"I hope so. I called your boss to explain him what happened, and he promised me he would allow you to come back as soon as you're free. I'll call him tomorrow, hopefully he won't change his mind."
>He gets up to go fetch a new drink for himself, and for you as you quickly finish your beer too. As he is busy in the kitchen you take a look at the movie on the television.
>Yeah, you're obviously not missing much, obviously Anon chose this one for background noise.
>"I would have come earlier to get you out, but there was an issue with the bank to transfer the money from my mom's account to mine," Anon explains as he hands you a bottle and before sitting back on the couch.
"It's ok - thanks - it gave me time to meet somepony, an old fan even."
>"Somepony? A fan?"
"Yeah, she was in the cell in front of mine. Talking with her made the time go by faster."
>"Somepo- oh I see! You guys got along? Damn she must feel lonely now that you're gone."
"Well, actually she is the one that get out first."
>The memory come back to you. Comic was distraught when she learned about her master. She didn't talk much after that, only saying goodbye and wishing you luck before being led out to the auction.
>"What happened?" Asks Anon, immediately sensing the shift in your mood.
"Her human... couldn't get her back. She's been sent to the auction."
>"Oh. Sorry but, that doesn't sound as bad as I thought it would be."
>You frown a bit at that.
"Anon, auctions are terrible places. Ponies there are literally merchandise, and poorly taken care of!"
>He raises his hands up in defense. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry that I said that! I never been in those places, I don't know how it is."
>Of course he doesn't. You sigh and decide to cool down a bit.
>"Maybe you'll see her again? You know her name?"
>You brighten up as you remember Comic's email address.
"Oh yeah, she gave me her email! I think Katty left a note in my papers with it written down."
>"Katty? Sounds like a human name," comments Anon as he gets up to go fetch your papers.
>The papers really are more like a booklet, with all kind of stuff written in it like legal infos, identification, health record, ...
"No, Katty is the woman that took care of us at the kennel, my friend is named Comic Strip."
>"Much more pony-like," Anon mumbles as he looks in the booklet. "Ah, there it is. Well, I hope she'll be allowed to use a computer."
"Me too. I'll make myself an email address to contact her, better than borrowing yours all the time."
>"If you want. I'll let you use my PC, just ask."
>You groan while he comes back to the couch.
"Gah, I forgot about that! I wanted to earn money to get a new tablet, now I need to earn money to pay Luc and your parents back!"
>"And with the taxes to pay soon it's gonna get worse."
"What? Taxes?"
>"Don't ask me about that, all I understand is that I have to give the state my money or they'll fuck me in the ass."
>This sounds confusing, why does Anon have to give his money just like that?
"Man, when do happy things happen to you in this world?"
>Anon just shrugs and drinks his beer.
>"Someday maybe. I met you, that's already a pretty good thing."
>This sounded so sappy and came so out of the blue you can't help but giggle-snort loudly.
>"What? I'm serious, you're a good friend. I'm glad I met you, minus the circumstance of course.?
>You smile at him, then put down your now empty beer and move to take Anon in your arms.
>"Hey w- what are you doing, Vi'?"
"It's called a hug, idiot. Friends do that."
>He is about to object but you can easily anticipate his protest.
"Well, pony friends do that. And guess what? I am one. So get used to it."
>Maybe it's the alcohol, or the loneliness of the past few days, or both, you don't care. Right now, holding the human close to you, your head resting against his chest, it feels great.
>You feel his hand land on your back, Anon finally returning the hug.
>This is lasting far longer than it should, but screw it, you need that hug.
>"I think I'll get a side-job for some time. Pizza delivery, or cashier at the store."
"Yeah, I'll ask Mr Longchamp, see if I can do overtime."
>Anon drops his gaze to you, a smile creeping on his face.
>"Thanks Vi', that would help a lot."
>His face is really close to yours.
>You like his eyes...
>Wait, why do you think that!?
>You gently break the hug and push yourself away from him, blushing a little.
"I think two beers are enough for tonight," you say with a chuckle.
>"I guess you're right, I feel a bit tired too anyway, let's head to bed.
"Oh man I so missed my bed!"
>Your back has been sore since your first night sprawled upon that stack of hay at the kennel, it's about time you get some proper rest.

-----

>The past week has been quite... tense, to say the least.
>As he said, Anon did overtime everyday, coming back home two to three hours later than what you were used to.
>He also found a side-job at the nearest pizzeria as a delivery man. He worked the whole saturday and sunday night, and has to do a few hours some nights in the week.
>The bags under his eyes already showed his lack of sleep.
>Unfortunately for you, Mr. Longchamp denied your request of working more. The law was clear on this point: ponies weren't allowed to work more than 24 hours a week, and your Manager was really intent of respecting the law.
>It was a let down, but you didn't complain, you were grateful enough to still have the job, really.
>To make up for it, you offered Anon to take care of everything in the house, to allow him to rest a bit more.
>And he does just that, currently laying in the couch while you are busy in the kitchen.
>If you have to say what slavery did good for you, it's that you learned how to cook. Before that all you could do was pour milk and cereal in a bowl. And more often than not you would spill milk.
>You were quite proud of now being able to set up a real meal for yourself and Anon.
>It was nearly done, so you turn down the heat and go to wake Anon up.
>You reach up a hoof to his shoulder and gently push him until he opens an eye.
"Dinner's ready, Anon."
>He mumbles some sort of acknowledgement and switches to a sitting position. You let him regain consciousness and go back to your cooking.
>You serve two plates, add the bacon strips you cooked on the side for Anon, then go to the table, the plates expertly balanced on your back.
>Anon thanks you and starts digging right away.
>You two don't talk much, there wasn?t a lot to say recently. Anon was too busy with his two jobs, and has trouble keeping a healthy sleep schedule.
>"Hey, Vi'."
>You perk up immediately.
"What's up, Anon?"
>"I don't work tonight, wanna see a movie?"
>This only is enough to make you smile from ear to ear, but you know he needs some sleep.
"I'd love to, Anon, but you sure you don't want to rest a bit more?"
>He is now making a sad human face, making you instantly regret objecting his proposition.
>"Yeah, but I miss spending time with you."
"What about a serie then? Let's watch just an episode."
>"Hey good idea, you have something in mind?"
>There are some series that you wanted to take a look at, but to be honest any serie could be good enough if that mean you could have some time with your friend.

"*That's it. Please, Madame, sign here.*"
>You cautiously bite on the pad in the front pouch of your uniform and let the woman grab it. She use the stylus to sign, making the mandatory joke about how shit it looks with this garbage, then gives it back to you.
"*Don't worry, Madame, it's ok. Thank you and have a nice day!*"
>Not losing time watching the customer get back in her car and drive away, you trot back to the freight elevator and press a button to make it go up. While it does that you open the door on the side and climb the small set of stairs to go back into the storehouse.
>Your French has improved enough to allow you to serve the clients when they come get their order.
>It wasn't that hard. Hello, sign here, goodbye.
>You still tried to do some small talk from time to time while you were packing everything in their car.
>How are you today? Nice weather. No I can't use my horn.
>Pretty simple.
>You grab the list and take a look at who's coming next.
>Mr Leblanc, coming at sixteen o'clock.
>Wait, sixteen?
>You look at the dusty computer screen on your desk, and give a kick at the mouse to get it out of idle mode.
>The clock reads 15:52.
>You're supposed to end at 16! Where the buck is Sylvain, he should be here to take your place!
>With a groan you snatch the phone from its base and dial the number to join your co-worker.
>This shit is hard to use, you have to hold a pen in your mouth to poke at the buttons. Thankfully it's just three numbers.
>You bring the phone to your good ear and hold it in place with both hooves.
>"*What's up?*" Comes the voice of Sylvain after just a ring.
"*Dude I'm off in five minutes, come here!*"
>"*Crap, I'm almost done here, there's someone to serve already?*"
"*Yeah, at sixteen, Mr Leblanc*"
>"*Please do it, Julie is late, she called, I'm gonna be alone for half an hour!*"
>You know you don't have to. You won't be paid more if you stay, and Julie's starting to make a habit of coming late.
>On the other hoof Sylvain will be pissed if you don't do this.
>Yet again, this can be your revenge on him for hiding in the back of the storehouse to smoke while you do all the work.
"*Sorry I can't, I have to go.*"
>"Putain de mer-"
>You put the phone back on its base and clock off.
>If they need you to work more, then they'll have to pay you more.

>Back at home, you toss your work clothes on the ground and straightaway go to the bathroom.
>Anon isn't home yet, but tonight it's netflix time.
>It's the third time you two do this, but it's already a ritual, something you wouldn't miss.
>A nice, simple meal, then you'll get onto the couch with a beer each, watching your serie for forty minutes.
>And this time you will refrain yourself from cuddling him mid-episode.
>You couldn't help it, and to be honest you were even a bit surprised yourself.
>But being with Anon just feels nice, and comforting. And Celestia know how much you needed some comfort after all these years.
>You take a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you enter the bathroom, and take a pause to better look at your reflexion.
>Once again, your mane was starting to be too long, but other than that, you still looked like Vinyl Scratch.
>Maybe you had a bit more fat than the last few years, though. With Anon you can eat whatever you want, as opposed to with your previous master, with which you were allowed a single meal a day, sometimes only half one if you displeased him - which happened quite often.
>Even before slavery, you can't remember being this plump. But, well, let's be honest, at the time you replaced your meal with a line of powder more often than once.
>You may probably be the only pony that gained weight after being turned into a slave of humanity.
>Comic Strip still recognized you as the DJ from her memory, that more than your own memory was proof that you hadn?t quite changed a lot, at least physically.
>Inside, you were nothing like the bratty and cocky party-goer you used to be.
>This was good, since you wouldn't have survived this if you didn't change your attitude.
>You tear your gaze away from the mirror and step in the walk-in shower, sliding the door closed behind you.
>Let's wash these thoughts away, there is nothing but suffering in the past.
>You reach up for the tap and let the water flow down on you.
>There is only regret in the past, better let it all go and look up to the future.
>Lots of nice things can happen in the future.
>Once Anon's debts are paid that is, but after that?
>Maybe you'll get back to making music, you've been strongly considering it recently.
>Browsing the internet made you realise that Comic was right, there is a depressing lack of pony music.
>Human music is good, but it doesn't carry the same vibes.
>Thinking about Comic and the internet, you still hadn't had an answer from her to your mail yet.
>Maybe her new master doesn't allow her to use a computer? You hope it's nothing bad. Yeah, she's probably fine, right?
>Come on, Vinyl! Life is tough, but tonight you're going to have some quality time with your best friend, let's just enjoy this.
>You'll have news from Comic sooner than you expect, for sure.
>You lift up your muzzle to have the water directly falling down your face, and simply enjoy the revigoring effect.
>Nothing like a good shower to relax after a day of work. Granted, your shifts are not that long, but still.
>You reach a hoof up your neck, right at the base of your soaked mane.
>Eyes closed, you take a moment just to focus on the water flowing over your body. 
>Your hoof slides down your neck, following the trail of liquid.
>Down your neck to your collar bone, then your chest, your belly, further down past your navel, and then...
>A shudder runs up your spine as your hoof brushes over your lips, a pleasant warmth following short.
>A soft moan escapes your mouth as you draw your hoof on the length of your slit, and already you feel your heart beating faster in your chest.
>You avoid going right away for the right spot, teasing yourself a little, just as you like.
>Now, this is actually more relaxing than just a shower. The physical pleasure helps you empty your head from any unwanted thoughts, allowing you to enjoy yourself as you please.
>In no time you start breathing more heavily, and loudly. You pant with lust as you press a bit harder, winking against your frog.
>But using your hoof alone is just foreplay. Right now it's not enough, you need a bit more than that.
>You stop and turn to the shower head. You reach up on your hind legs, and slide it down with your hooves until you are able to catch it with your mouth.
>The cord is long enough to allow you to place the head on the floor. It takes a bit of manipulation to get it to keep facing upward with the right stream going, but eventually you manage.
>It's a bit awkward getting into position over the shower head but you don't care, no one is looking at you right now.
>And sweet Celestia this water jet is perfect for the task!
>Your moaning grows in volume the instant the water hit your sensitive parts, but adjusting your position a little has you downright shouting.
>You know Anon won't be home yet for some hours, and there is no way the neighbor could hear you. You still bite your bottom lip to refrain yourself from making too much noise.
>Whoever came up with the idea of a rotating head to allow different jets is a genius.
>The only issue is that standing still above the shower head is proving to be more and more difficult. After a few minutes your legs are starting to shake, and you have to lower yourself to the ground, keeping only your rear up.
>But you're close, you can feel it!
"Oh yes, just a bit more..."
>Almost there!
>You fill your mind with any dirty thought that you can come up with, eventually choosing to picture someone's tongue assaulting your privacy.
"Ah... Ah... Anon..."
>For a fraction of an instant your friend appears in the mental scenery, making you freeze in place instead of going on.
>Your eyes flew open, and you quickly move yourself away from the shower head.
>You're still panting and incredibly horny, but also surprised and confused.
"W- What the buck, brain?"
>You won't be lying, you already thought about Anon that way, but not while pleasuring yourself that way, and especially not while reaching your climax.
>You take a moment to calm yourself, catch your breath and clear your mind.
>It's not like you thought about him on purpose, he just naturally came up to your mind at this instant.
>You reach for the tap and stop the water jet before putting the shower head back on its place.
>That's not thinking about him that is the issue, it's thinking about him without meaning it in the first place.
>Do you have feelings for him?
>You step out of the shower and grab a towel to cover yourself with.
>Yeah you like him, and yeah you wouldn't really mind having a bit of fun with him.
>But you wouldn't just think about him while masturbating!
>Ok, calm down, Vinyl. It just happened once, don't fret.
>And why does it matter anyway? Is it really a problem if you actually like him?
"Ok, stop!"
>You shake your head, chasing these thoughts away.
>You just don't want to think about it right now.
>Anon is a very good friend you like to chill with and you're comfortable with whatever happen between the two of you.
>That's enough for now.
>Now that this subject is put aside, you do your best to dry yourself before trotting off the bathroom.
>Let's see what you can have for tonight's meal.

>It's quarter past nine.
>Anon isn't home.
>He was supposed to come back somewhere around eight, as usual.
>You already checked your mailbox on his computer to see if he had send you a mail to warn you for coming home late, but nothing.
>And you don't have a cellphone to call him, not even a landline phone.
>You prepared a pasta gratin for tonight, half of it with lardons for Anon.
>It's sitting in the oven, just waiting for you to turn the heat on once Anon's home.
>You're starting to be hungry, but you don't want to eat without him. You only took a beer to drink while watching the TV.
>But more than hungry, you're worried.
>Anon never comes home this late.
>Should you ask the neighbor to borrow his phone?
>Well, you don't even know Anon's number, you never had a use for it. Plus you only saw your neighbor once or twice.
>In Equestria that wouldn't have been an issue, but here on Earth people usually like to not be disturbed by their peers.
>You have no other choice to wait.

>In the morning, you still haven't seen Anon.
>His part of the gratin is now stored away in the fridge. You ate and drank alone yesterday.
>You have absolutely no idea about where he may be.
>Did he spend the night at work?
>Did he meet a friend? Or a girl?
>Did he die?
>Anything is possible at this point, you're that clueless.
>It's only at ten in the morning that you finally have some news, when the neighbor knocks at your door.

>You have a panic fit at first when he tells you that Anon had an accident and spent the night at the hospital. But he quickly reassure you, it's not too severe. Apparently Anon simply fell in the stairs and broke his arm.
>Hearing this, you don?t know if you should be worried, angry, or just laugh your flank off.
>Ponies aren?t allowed in hospitals, so you can?t go there to see Anon. But thankfully your neighbor - Michel - offers you to borrow his phone to call Anon.
>You allow Michel in, offer him a cup of coffee, then take his phone to make your call.
>Anon quickly picks up.
>"Michel?"
"No, Anon, it?s Vinyl. How are you!?"
>"It could be worse, I think. What did Michel tell you?"
>He is talking a bit slowly, taking short pauses between words where he shouldn't. Probably they gave him some strong painkillers.
"You fell in the stairs and broke and arm. I guess by the way he said it it's not too serious? How long will it take for you to heal? Will you stay at the hospital all the time?"
>"No it's not too bad, it should be ok in one or two months, the doctor said. And no I won't stay away that long, I should be at home tomorrow. I'll just have to wear a plaster all the time until it's healed."
"Oh, tomorrow? I... I won't be sent to the kennel until then, right?"
>"No don't worry, I didn't tell them about you anyway. You work tomorrow?"
"Uh no, not tomorrow. I have two hours to go this afternoon though."
>"Ok. The doc said I could use some help the first weeks. I won't be able to work for some time, too."
"How long?"
>"Until my arm is healed I guess."
>You hear him let out a long sigh."
>"I'm sorry for this, Vinyl."
"What? Why?"
>Another sigh, shorter.
>"It's... Ugh, forget it. I'm just feeling a bit down, is all. We'll sort all this out when I come back, ok?"
>You're not too sure if you should press the matter or not. Well, if you were both face to face, maybe you would.
"Ok, Anon. Get some rest, I'll see you tomorrow. Wait, how will you come home? You probably can't drive!"
>"I can't. But it's ok, I already asked Michel, he doesn't work tomorrow afternoon so he'll catch me on his way home."
"That's nice of him. See you tomorrow then?"
>"Yep. Don't stay up too late on my pc!"
>He hangs up before you have the time to protest.

-----

>You slowly wake up, opening your eyes to a passing landscape.
>In front of you, Anon is deeply focused on his phone, probably reading if you had to guess by the movement of his eyes.
>He is actually so focused on his reading that he doesn't realise you are awake. That's good, it gives you more time to remember why you both are in a train.
>Oh, right.
>A few days after Anon came back from the hospital, his mom called him to get some news.
>You weren't even in the same room at the time, but you still heard her when she learned what happened.
>Some mix between insults and words of worries.
>She immediately offered Anon to come to take a vacation. She was so insistent that she accepted that you came with him. And she even paid for the tickets.
>Anon couldn't really refuse, he was actually quite happy with this turn of events.
>The only complicated part was to get your boss to allow you a few days away. But even that wasn't too much trouble.
>Mr Longchamp was quite a reasonable person, and when seeing Anon's injury, he immediately understood that your assistance was required.
>It was also fortunate that the activity at the store was going slow at this time of the year.
>Really fortunate.
>Sadly that means you won't get money for that period of time, but it's not too much of a loss.
>It hurts to admit, but your work isn't worth much.
>Anyway, ten days free of charge at Anon's parents would make up for it.
>Spending some time away from home also sounds like a nice change of pace, it will do good to Anon and you.
>His parents live in the south, not far from the Mediterranean sea. Anon told you it was even possible to see the water from his window!
>You never went to the beach, not even back in Equestria. You're pretty excited about it!
>"Oh, you're awake."
>You tear your gaze away from the scenery to face Anon, who put his phone down.
"Yeah, I've been out for long?"
>"A few hours. Were you really that tired?"
"Not really. Train rides have this effect on me, it's soothing." 
>You raise you hoof to your collar, trying to get that itch with a grunt. Thankfully Anon comes to your rescue with his fingers, easily slipping them between your neck and the strap of leather.
"Oh yeah... Thank you, Anon! Say, how much time is left before we arrive?"
>"An hour, then we'll have to take another train, but it will just be for a stop, ten minutes at most."
"Man, this is taking so long!"
>"True, it's too bad they don't allow ponies aboard planes, yet."
>You chuckle at that. There is no way you ever get in one of those things. The very idea of a flying bus is as silly as it is terrifying.
"Whatever. How's your arm?"
>You point a hoof at his plastered arm. A set of bandages helps keep it against his side. You often have to help him with them.
>"Ok for now. It started being less painful these last days. Well, I still took a painkiller while you were sleeping, thirteen minutes ago, I think?"
"Good to hear. Just tell me if you need something."
>"It's been more than a week, Vi', I know I can ask you anything already," he says, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
>You blush a bit at that. It's true you've been quite insistent on offering your help, but you can't help feeling guilty for what happened. It's basically your fault that Anon had to exhaust himself at work, ending up being so tired he slipped on the stairs and hurt himself.
"Right, but still..."
>He smiles at you and give a slight nod. "I appreciate your help, Vi'. Thank you."
>You smile in return, a pleasant feeling suddenly tugging at your chest.
>"Still, try to enjoy yourself as well, it's a vacation for the both of us."
"Someone has to take care of you, Anon."
>You hesitate half a second before adding a wink to that statement. Celestia, the timing was so poor it's just awkward now. Thankfully Anon doesn't seem to mind and just laugh at your antics.
>"I now have my personal nurse then? Should I get you a cute white cap or something?"
"Eh, m-maybe?"
>"Careful, I might!"
>You would answer, but nothing clever comes to you, so you just chuckle awkwardly.
>If only you could stop blushing, you're pretty sure you look dumb.
>If you do, Anon doesn't mention it though, and just keeps talking with you for the time left.
>Once at your stop, Anon helps you pack everything on your back. For himself, he is only able to carry a messenger bag on his good shoulder.
>The aisle of the train is pretty narrow, you have just enough space to walk with your saddlebags.
>You wait with your human friend on the platform, sitting next to him. Not long after, a train stops in front of you and Anon urges you to climb in.
>As said earlier, you get out of this train directly at the next stop, Anon doesn?t even bother to take a seat during the ride.
>He steps out first, and not a second after a female human coming out of nowhere pulls him into a hug.
>She speaks so quickly it's impossible for you to understand half of what she's saying. You don't have to be as smart as Princess Sparkle to understand that she is Anon's mother, and is very pleased to see her son.
>They both exchange some words to catch up.
>She finally pays attention to you, this time speaking slowly enough for you to understand. "*And so, this is your pony, I suppose.*"
>Okay, time to make a good impression. You gather up all your fancy and polite French vocabulary, keeping your posture as straight as possible despite the charge on your back.
"*It's a delight to make your acquaintance, Madame. My name is Vinyl Scratch.*"
>Even Anon looks impressed, you nailed it.
>"*Uh, right, I'm Flore,*" she says, looking you up and down like if you had two heads. "*Alright follow me, Anon, I'm parked over there. Here, let me take care of this for you.*"
>She grabs his bag before he even has the time to react and she promptly walks toward the aforementioned direction. Anon then looks down at you, and with a smile, picks up one of the bags balanced on your back.
>"I don't think she ever saw a pony for real before, she probably didn't expect you to be able to talk," he says, chuckling.
>Right, equines don't talk on earth. No matter if your kind had been enslaved on earth for years, humans don't see the difference, nor care: Equines don't talk.
>"What's the matter, Vi'?"
>You look up to Anon, who's looking back at you with a worried face. Only now do you realize you are frowning.
"Nothing, sorry."
>Anon is visibly confused, but he doesn't push the matter and just shrugs.
>You both catch up with Flore near her car and store the bags in the trunk of the vehicle.
>While mother and son climb in the front seats, you climb in the back, on the blanket Anon's mom put there for you to sit on. You don't make any comment on this.
>Well, if you had to be fair, it is true that you do leave some hairs behind you, but not as much as humans tend to think.
>This is still a bit insulting.
>It's a relaxing ride along a small road trailing in the middle of nothing, the vegetation covering almost your entire field of view.
>You can't have enough of this scenery, it's nothing like where Anon lives. Fields of lavender, olive trees, poppy flowers everywhere, lots of trees you?ve never seen before...
>Lots of rock formations, but not grey and boring. The stone is red, white, yellow, everything mixed with the vegetation in an absurd twirl of color.
>Even the human constructions are in adequation with the place, using local stones to build their houses, most of them white with red rooftops.
>This place is even more colorful than Equestria! How is this possible?
>You are so lost in your contemplation that you almost don't realize the car coming to a stop in front of a two-story house, built in the same fashion as most of the buildings you saw on your way.
>Anon opens the door for you and you quickly hop outside, content to finally be done with all the travelling.
>You bend a bit forward and stretch your front legs as far as you can. You don't succeed to make your joints pop, but the feeling is great all the same.
"Man, I'm so glad we're finally here! I don't thin- Anon? What's up?"
>He is simply standing there, looking at you with a blush on his face. He shakes his head in confusion before making a 180° on his heels.
>"Nevermind, help me with the bags, please."
>W-Was he checking you out?
>...
>Good, now you too are blushing. Damn it, Anon!
>You still do as asked and carry once more the bags on your back. You are extra mindful of wiping your hooves on the doormat before stepping in right after Anon.
>The entry room is fairly large, with three door frames - only one actually having  a door - and a staircase on the left, leading upstairs. A quick glance at the two open frames lets you see the kitchen on the right and a huge living room in front of you.
>As Anon drops his bag here in a corner, you do the same and follow him in the living room, Anon himself following his mom.
>"*Dad ain't here?*"
>"*No, he's outside to bet on his stupid horse races... Did you eat something already? I can make you something quick if you want, an omelette and cheese sandwich, maybe?*" Flore asks as she helps Anon to sit in the 'L' shaped couch.
>"*No thanks, Mom. Vinyl made us some sandwiches of her own.*"
>"*Well that's better, I guess. We're going to the restaurant tonight, better have some free place!*"
>"*We're going out? Great! Where are we going?*" Anon asks with excitement.
>"*Aux Trois Signes, I know you love their perch fillet.*"
>"*Awesome, I've m- oh, wait, they accept ponies at this place?*"
>Flore raises her brow in confusion, glancing toward you before focusing her eyes back on her son. "*What? Uh, I don't kno- Wait, Anon, you want to bring your pony to the restaurant?*"
>"*Yes, of course.*"
>His mother doesn?t seem to know how to answer this, she looks at you again, then back to her son once more. "*Anon, it's... it's a pony...*"
>You've been sitting there all along, right next to the doorway, waiting for them to finally pay you any attention. But now that they finally are looking at you, you don't feel like being the focus of the conversation anymore.
>In fact, you even prefer if you weren't in the same room anymore, this is going to be too much bullshit for you, you feel.
"Alriiiight... *I go bring the bags to your bedroom, Anon. Is upstairs, yes?*"
>Flore nods. "*Yes, end of the corridor, left door."
>You get up and trot back to the entrance, pick up a bag's handle in your mouth and climb the stairs.
>Anon did warn you about this. He did told you how his parents may not be as familiar with the idea of a pony being more than a pet or a slave.
>Guess spending so much time with Anon and your coworkers made you forget how people really are.
>Sure, you can't forget that you are a slave, a lot of things remind you that on a daily basis.
>But at least the humans you know don't act like you don't even bucking exist.
>It's been less than a hour and you are already taking the grief for such a small thing.
>You realize it only now, but you've started to act like your old self once again. This isn't good, you'll get in trouble if you start behaving like that.
>You're a pony in the human world, Vinyl, get that into your head, don't forget it.
>Left door at the end of the corridor, that's it. You get up on your hind legs to reach for the handle and open the door.
>You don't really know what you were expecting exactly, but this doesn't really look like Anon's bedroom. There is not much furniture, just a queen sized bed and a mirror in the corner. The only decoration is some sort of abstract painting hanging on the opposite wll, right next to the window.
>The window!
>You drop the bag next to the bed and rush to the window, propping yourself up against the edge.
>Your jaw drops in awe at the sight in display.
>Just like before, there are trees everywhere, with sometimes the occasional red roof sticking out. But here, in the distance, you can see a cliff running down in the azure blue of the sea.
>Both the sea and the sky are the same shade of vivid blue, it's really hard to tell when one ends and when the other starts.
>You'll never have enough of this view.
>But for now you still have to carry the bags here.
>You get down and quickly trot out to fetch the second bag of Anon.
>At the foot of the stairs, you can hear Anon and his mother in the middle of an argument. They're not yelling, but the conversation is animated nonetheless.
>You sigh and toss the messenger bag on your back, before grabbing the second with your mouth.
>When you come back downstairs to get the last bag, you realize that this one is yours, only packed with your things - your pills, your mp3 player as well as your headset, a french-learning book, a raincoat, hygiene stuff...
>There's not much, but that's your. The issue at the moment though is: where are you supposed to bring that?
>Do you have your own room? Do you have to sleep on the couch? Buck, will they even allow you on that couch?
>Your ear swivels toward the living room, where the conversation has suddenly ended. You raise your head to see Anon walking to you, his slightly annoyed face quickly turning to a gentle smile once his eyes fall on you.
>"Hey, you got everything upstairs already?"
"Yeah, it's just my bag left. You know where I'm supposed to put it?"
>He shrugs. "Just put it in my room. I'd ask Mom where she planned you to sleep but I'm afraid of the answer."
>You too, but you don't say anything.
>Anon makes a movement of his valid hand, which you understand as "go on, I follow you."
>You grab the bag in your mouth, and for the third time climb the stairs to Anon's room.
>But as you reach the last step of the staircase, a surprise awaits you.
>There, in the middle of the corridor and staring directly at your soul with a piercing glare...
>An earth cat.
"A-Anon," you wimper.
>The cat emits a soft trill as it gets up and walks up to you.
>"Oh, that's Jule, don't worry he's very friendly."
>But Anon's words mean nothing to you right now. You had to deal with these monsters twice in the past, and on both occurence it didn't went well.
>You would have run already if your retreat wasn?t blocked by Anon, so instead you choose to not move as to not provoke the feral beast.
>The cat, on his part, just purred while rubbing himself against your legs and your barrel, probably to gain your trust to better stab you in the back later!
>"*Okay, Jule, fuck off, you scare her,*" Anon says as he gently shoo away the cat with his hand.
>With a meow of protestation, the feline threat walks past you to head downstairs. You let out a sigh of relief.
"Thanks Anon."
>"You're welcome. You're afraid of cats?"
"Uh, I don't get along well with them. These pets are bucked up sociopaths, even more so on earth! I don't get why you humans love them so much."
>"Come on, they're not that bad. Well, maybe, but that just make them funny. And they're damn cute, too."
>Oh, right. Humans and their obsession for 'cute' things. There's no harm in liking cute things of course, but coming from a specie that also love to kill and inflict pain...
>You chase those thoughts away before the mental image of that Hello Kitty rifle comes back to your mind.
>Entering the bedroom once again, you toss your bag in a corner, separated from Anon's as he sits on the edge of the bed before slowly laying on his back.
>He lets out a long, content sigh. "This bed feels great! Even better than mine."
"Can I?"
>He pats the sheet next to him. "Make yourself at home."
>You prop your front legs on the edge then hop up on the bed. You drop on your belly, extending your legs far in front and behind.
"It's so soft!"
>"Yeah, Mom must have cleaned the sheets yesterday."
>You both are silent for a moment. You bury your face in the sheet, enjoying the coolness and the softness of it.
>But eventually Anon has to break the silence.
>"So I convinced Mom that you should come with us. I know the place, it's a nice one, and they'll probably not protest to your presence, but expect to have to wear a leash."
"Oh buck this shit..."
>It's an half-hearted protest. You know you don't have a choice, and Anon is nice enough to only put you on a leash when there is absolutely no other choice.
>"If it can cheer you up, this place is a really good restaurant, one of my favorites. They do only seafood though, but you're ok with eating fish, if I remember?"
"Yeah, totally. We don't eat much fish at home."
>"It's quite expensive where we live. Here, with the sea just next, not so much."
"Make sense. By the way, when will we go to the beach?"
>Anon roll his head to face you, a brow raised and smirking. "Impatient much? You really never went to the beach?"
"No I told you! The only time I saw the ocean that close it was in the harbour, before I left the US."
>"Well, maybe tomorrow? I don't know what Mom has in mind, but we'll go as soon as possible, promise."
>You smile, then roll on your back to get closer to him, smiling.
"I can't wait, thanks Anon!"
>"Don't thank me, thank my parents, they invited us."
"Oh, right..."
>Another silence, a bit more unwelcomed this time.
>"They're not bad people, they just don't know shit about ponies. I should have warned you."
"You did."
>"Oh, really?"
>You blow a raspberry in the air, rolling your eyes.
"Forget it, Anon. I'm just moody. A moody slave that forgot where her place is."
>The human on your side props himself on his elbow, looking at you with concern.
>"Hey, Vi'."
>But you interrupt him before he gets started.
"I'm serious, Anon, just forget it. I'm just acting like a drama prince. I just hang around you and people that I know and who know me, I really forgot my place. This-"
>You pull on your collar, presenting the tag with Anon's number on it.
"-is what I am, it's how everyone sees me, humans and ponies alike."
>Anon stares at you for a moment, his face filled with worry and concern about you.
>You can't help but smile a little.
>"W-What's funny?"
"Nothing, dude. It's just nice to know you don't see me like a slave."
>He smiles back, then settle down on his back once again.
>"I don't, and you should know that Mom and Dad won't as well if you spend some talk talking with them. They tend to believe what they see on TV, but that doesn't mean they can't realize things by themselves. I'll try to include you in the conversations tonight."
"That's nice of you Anon."
>"Yeah don't thank me yet, I know my dad is quite thick-headed at times, so don't expect them to consider you as their daughter by tomorrow.
>You blink.
"Wow, way to crush my hopes, man! I so wished to be your little sister, you know that?"
>By your side, Anon chuckles.
>"The family pictures would have been so sick, it's a shame, really."
"Agree..."
>You hesitate for a second, then shrug and drop the joke anyway.
"Whatever, I'm not too much into incest anyway."
>"What the fuck!?"
>The tone he used and his face make it for you, and you burst laughing-snorting, grasping your sides.

-----