Richard squeezed by his new fan. “Sorry, I have to get going.” He continued to apologize as he fought his way through the crowd, heading to the front door. It hung there ajar, moving slightly in the evening wind. Richard reached it, politely closing it behind him, then looked down the stairway. Darian was at the bottom, only a few steps to go.

Richard moved to descend the stairs, but lost his footing and fell. He tried to reach for something to support him, but the railing eluded his grasp. Realizing he was past the point of no return, he curled up into a ball. The world spun around and around, at least according to his inner ear; his eyes were shut tight. He braced for the inevitable pain, but it was apparently stuck in line at the DMV; the padded latex suit had been a brilliant move after all. Richard felt the sharp impact of the concrete on his back, and continued to roll. He felt the awful traveling-carnival ride slow to a stop, and he gleefully prepared to rise to his feet, when he felt himself impact with something warm and squishy. When he finally stopped moving, he found himself on top of something large and squirming. Richard opened his eyes; Darian was underneath him. The fixed grin permanently frozen on his full horse-head stared back at him incongruously.

“Get off me, man!” Darian screamed. “I surrender already!”

“Calm down,” Richard assured. “It’s not like that.”

“Don’t hurt me!” Darian screeched. “I’ll tell you everything!”

Richard’s detective training kicked in; he slowly rose to his feet and offered Darian a hand; he took it gratefully. “I accept your terms,” Richard informed. “Let’s go somewhere else to discuss this.”

Darian looked back at the stairs; Richard did likewise. It seemed the whole party had followed them; they stood on the stairs, forming a pool at the bottom, all eyes fixed on the sad duo. “Fine with me,” Darian agreed. They walked through the gate and down the street.

They were to the next block when Darian finally spoke. “Why were you following me?”

“I think the real question,” Richard countered, “is why you ran from me.”

“I panicked,” Darian admitted. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.” He sighed dejectedly. “That sounds stupid when I say it out loud.” He fixed Richard with a terrified look. “You’re not going to tell anyone about this, are you?”

“No…” Richard drawled. “But you owe me a favor.”

“Anything!” Darian pleaded. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Richard admitted. “I don’t have anything right now.”

“Fair enough,” Darian agreed. “I’m sure you can keep your silence.”

Without warning, the sweater tied around Darian’s waist slipped off and fell to the ground; Richard recoiled at what he saw underneath. Darian wore an anime-girl’s sailor-skirt, his hairy legs protruding from underneath, ending in tall boots that, as long as the ensemble remained intact, easily passed themselves off as horse legs but gave a completely different impression now. Richard turned away in disgust as Darian quickly grabbed the sweater, tying it tightly around his waist.

“Please…” Darian pleaded.

“I think it’s better if we both forgot about that,” Richard declared. “No additional favor. Consider it a freebie.”

“Thanks,” Darian chimed, looking visibly relieved. “You’re a good man, Detective Schmutz.”

They walked in silence for a few moments, then Darian turned to Richard. “Do you mind if I take off this head?” he asked. “I’m suffocating in here.”

“Not at all. Can you find the zipper in the back of mine? It’s under a flap of latex.”

Darian removed his horse head; his hair was an explosion of sweat-soaked spikes. “Sure, no problem.” Richard felt some fidgeting in the back, followed by the welcome sound of the zipper unfastening. He pulled down his head and shook his arms, dislodging the top of the costume. After a few unsteady lurches, he managed to step out of the rest. He breathed a huge sigh of relief; a hundred degrees never felt so crisp.

There was a noise to their left; Darian and Richard turned to see the two homeless guys from before, still planted firmly in their nest, gaping wildly. One appeared to be repeating the Hail Mary prayer.

Darian winced. “Whoa, that’s ripe. I thought my costume was a sweatbox.”

Richard hung his upside-down; sweat poured out and ran into the gutter. “My dry cleaner’s gonna look at me funny when I bring this in.” He eyed the mounted Fleshlight nervously, but it blended in with the interior of the costume.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Darian took another glance at their spectators, and motioned across the street. Richard followed, leaving the two indigent penitents alone to meditate on tonight’s singular experience.

“So why did you run from me, really?” Richard asked.

Darian hung his head. “I figured you had me dead to rights.”

“Want to come clean about it?”

“I admit it,” Darian sobbed lightly. “I’ve never seen Racer X do anything wrong.”

Richard was at a loss for a moment; this confession wasn’t going the way he had hoped. “Then why did you bad-mouth him?”

“I was intensely jealous!” Darian choked out between sobs. “I’d been on the make with Kelly for months, and then he just showed up out of nowhere!” He looked at Richard, tears streaming from his eyes like ice blocks melting in the summer sun. “It was humiliating. I just get tired of being the chump so often.”

He looked down at his costume. “And this isn’t helping.”

“Don’t feel so bad about being a brony,” Richard soothed. “I heard they’re mostly fine, upstanding people, and enjoy the moral lessons behind the show.”

“They are. They do.” He blew his nose, one nostril at a time, the snot splattering in the gutter. Richard reared back, waiting a moment before following. “I thought they’d help me become a stronger person. And maybe they do. But I have a long way to go.”

“You’ll get there,” Richard sympathized. “Anything else eating you inside?”

“Just one thing,” Darian shared. “It was bad enough when Kelly got her precious princess panties in an uproar over that dark, mysterious stranger, but…he’s also a lot stronger than me.”

“How do you mean?” Richard prompted.

Darian shrugged. “Oh, nothing that couldn’t be expected, I guess. Clearly, he works out. But it was just one more reason to feel like nobody.”

“Hey, you’ll find your place in this world,” Richard assured, putting his hand on Darian’s shoulder. He realized this was a perfect time to work on Dr. Bettencourt’s request. “It might not be in Harmony, though. You may have to look elsewhere.”

“I don’t have that option right now,” Darian moped.

Richard’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Darian let out a long sigh before continuing. “I live in the headquarters. My parents kicked me out of the house. I had nowhere else to go.”

Richard grimaced. “Wow, that’s rough.”

“I couldn’t believe it!” Darian whined. “Sure, I might have been a handful, but aren’t most teenagers? Then, on my eighteenth birthday, my parents asked me to join them in the front yard. I was so excited; I thought they had a present for me, like a new car or something. But instead, my dad…” He stopped to sob. “I can still hear his words in my ears.” He adopted a deeper voice. “Well, son, you’re eighteen today. You can come over for dinner on Sundays, but you have to call first.”

He choked out another sob. “And with that, they went back inside and locked the door! I tried to walk around to the back, but they sicced the dog on me! I never really got along with that dog, but I didn’t think he’d actually attack me! I never spoke to them again.” He fought off a small coughing fit. “I slept on couches for a while. Finally, I ended up working at the Goodwill, fixing up donated computers. I made enough money to keep myself fed, but not much else.”

He perked up slightly. “So one night, I left work, and was walking back to the homeless encampment that hadn’t thrown me out yet, when I came upon some sort of riot. I saw chanting protesters facing off against heavily-armed riot police. By that time, I was so angry with my life, the establishment, society, and anything else I could get my hands on, that I…” His voice trailed off.

He took a deep breath before continuing. “I saw a bunch of garbage cans, and bags, on the street. I don’t know where I found the strength, but I just started picking them up and hucking them at the police! They might have had tear gas, but I had rotten garbage stink, and that was worse!” He laughed, looking visibly cheered up. “They cowered, the protesters cheered, and as they ran away, I ran with them! They congratulated me and told me how brave I was. I’d never felt so validated in my life!”

Darian paused, as if expecting Richard to respond. Richard blinked. “Well, I guess that explains a lot.”

Darian smiled sadly. “All I’m saying is, I was nobody, and when I’m with Harmony, I’m at least somebody. And sure, Kelly isn’t going to be the love of my life, but…well…it was more than just my heart. I thought Kelly would be my ticket out of the gutter.” His eyes suddenly gleamed brightly. “Have you seen how rich her folks are? I would have been set for life!”

Richard tried to sympathize, but the last of his patience was flying away faster than a schoolkid’s classwork on the last day of school. “You just have to keep trying,” Richard advised. “We all have our problems.”

Darian snorted. “Oh, sure. You’re a dashing private detective, living a life of excitement.”

Richard looked down at his sweat-soaked clothes, no more than a silk-screened t-shirt and old athletic shorts from his time at the police academy. “It has its days.”

Darian stopped and gazed intently at Richard. “You’re right! If even someone like you can have an off day, I’ve got a chance too, right?” He laughed cathartically, the blood returning to his cheeks. “Thanks, Detective Schmutz. You’ve helped me more than you’ll ever know.”

“Think nothing of it,” Richard mumbled.

Darian looked around; they were in front of Harmony’s building. “Well, this is my stop,” he announced. “Have a good evening.”

“Yeah,” Richard returned. “You too.”

Darian turned to look back. “You’re a hard-boiled man, Detective Schmutz. I should have known better than to mess with you. Let me know about that favor.” Richard just smiled wanly.

Darian went through the front door and disappeared. Richard sighed and lugged the heavy costume toward his waiting car.

He was unthrilled that he seemed to have crossed the line and engaged in blackmail. Still, it all depended on what he asked Darian to do for him.

With any luck…nothing at all.