No Pressure

It was a blistering winter night in the broncs when Cherry Bomber went to visit Potato Chip at her new apartment. She was grateful for the city wide magic that kept stoops clear of slick ice as she fumbled around for her spare key. Cherry heard the whistle of a tea kettle when she forced her way inside the small place, a living room stacked with half full and still unopened boxes greeted her. The couch was facing the wall but at least the dining room table was set up, some take out sat on top, stewing in their own ecology.

“Why hasn’t she unpacked anything?” With a frustrated sigh, she shifted out of her jacket and laid it on the back of a chair, it almost blended with the clutter. In the small kitchen the kettle continued to whistle without interruption.

“Hey Taters did you leave some tea on the stove? It’s ready!” She shouted to the back of the apartment. After the living room there was a short hallway, a bed and bathroom at the end.“Taters!” Cherry shouted again, still no answer. With a sigh the pegasus marched back into the kitchen to switch off the burner. The tea kettle was the special kind with a no heat handle so she grabbed it with her teeth and went to the bedroom.  

The bedroom was roughly a third the size of the living room, yet it was in far better shape. Potato Chip even bothered to get a picture or two up on the wall before finally breaking down. A bookshelf, a bed, dresser, and a wardrobe.  Her bed was shoved into a corner, covered in sheets though not properly made. The bookshelf she had helped move into the room was already well lined with an untold number of sketch books, with more books still in boxes or stacked against the wall, waiting for a place to sit besides the floor.

Potato Chip sat on her stool, hunched over her writing desk chewing on the eraser end of a pencil like it was a carrot stick. There was a look of tired consternation on her face.  

“Hey, heersh yer tschee.” Cherry said directly to her friend and rolled her eyes when she didn’t look up, placing the kettle down on the desk. “I said here’s your tea.”  When Potato Chip looked up she noticed  the large dark circles under her eyes.

“Did I fall asleep again?”  Potato Chip asked blearily.

“Unless you’ve learned how to sleep with your eyes open then no.” Cherry answered.

“Oh, uh..uhg...” Chip’s hoof flicked a crumpled piece of paper off the desk, it hit the bin, already stuffed, and rolled to the floor. “ Guess I zoned out?”

Cherry Bomber grimaced. “You left the stove on.” Potato Chip jerked fully awake. “I did? Oh gosh, the stove!”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, I took care of it. See? It’s right here.” Cherry talked her down, pointing at the still steaming kettle of tea.  “I might’ve just saved your life.”  Cherry briefly glanced through the boxes. “And your typewriter...” she frowned. “Where is it?”

“Still in the box.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ll take it out later on.” Potato said, noticing the irritation on Cherry’s face. “It’s just that I have an easier time getting my ideas down if I write them out first.” She scribbled some notes on a fresh sheet of paper.

“Right, fine.” Cherry sat down on the bed scrutinizing Potato Chip from across the room.  “Is it a contest?”

Potato Chip leaned into a back arching stretch. “Mmmhm, the same one as last year.”

“What’s the prize?”

“Two-Thousand bits.”

Cherry whistled. “Nice. That could pay for this place three times!”

“Exactly why I need to win this.” Potato Chip examined the page, scratched something out and wrote again while muttering. “No no that's not good enough.”

"So that’s what you’ve spent the past three days doing.” Cherry mused. “Instead of unpacking.”

“I’ll get around to it.”

~You said that two days ago~, Cherry thought. “Well you shouldn’t worry too much. You don’t necessarily need those bits, aren’t your parents paying for this place?”

Chip groaned. “Yes. Yeah, they are,” she stared at the paper for a moment before aggressively crumpling it and tossing it away. “And I hate that!” Cherry idly watched the paper ball fly. “That’s why you want to win this contest so bad?”

“If I can at least place in second I can justify being in this apartment on my parent’s dime, otherwise I’m wasting my time, they’re time, everypony’s time and I might as well go back home!”

Cherry looked at her friend with a growing sense of understanding. “Ya know, if this is about your cutie mark-,”

“I have to win!” Potato Chip stood up from her chair, eyes sharp but her body seemed brittle. “Otherwise what is even the point?”
For a moment Cherry sat where she was, searching her friend’s face for the source of the sudden outburst. Then she sighed. “We’ve been over this already, Tates. You’re gonna be fine,”  She reached over and patted Chip on the shoulder. “Don’t forget I’m here to help!” Potato Chip was quiet, cheeks stubbornly puffed out and red, even then she wanted to go it alone. “I know you’ll help me out. Thanks, Cherry.” She finally acquiesced.

“Don’t sweat it. You’re gonna make your parents proud!” Cherry Bomber clapped her hard on the back, almost making her fall over the desk. “But before we do anything else, seriously let’s get your stuff unpacked.”

Potato Chip laughed looking haggard.  “Tea first? It's...actually been three days since I last had anything to drink...”

___

Potato Chip, daughter of Pinkie Pie and Donut Joe. Was borderline NEET for a good stretch of time, due in part to it taking longer than usual for her cutie mark to appear.  She's all about burning the midnight oil, going several days straight with no sunlight until a project is complete, and then pig out on junk food once it's all done. Life at home was getting crowded so when the opportunity presented itself she decided to strike out on her own with her parent's blessing (and bits) but it might take more than a cutie mark to help find her place.