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Cheers.
Cheers filled the whole racetrack along with victory horns and confetti.
And then the victory screen:
John Apple.
The track cleared out, leaving Hopeless with nothing but the echoes of wind and the muffled sound of a voice saying ‘place your votes.’ He wasn’t going to be in the next race, or the third race, or the following races.
They were done.
Done with such a losing streak.
Every time he was merely inches away from gaining the sweet taste and smell of carrots, some jackass would steal it before they could get to it. It’s almost like the other horses were taunting him.
Taunting… that must be it. That must be why they continuously lose. He already hated everyone. They were faster than he was and always flaunted their victory in front of him. Especially John Apple. Damn that John Apple.
The sky began to darken above, the clouds surrounding the track Hopeless Endeavor continued to stand in defeat and helplessness. The racetrack followed suit with the sky, losing their vibrant colors and turning into mixes of achromatic, unappealing scenery. Hopeless felt something cold and wet on their head. He looked up, only for both eyes to get splashed on. It was raining. It was raining, and they didn’t bother putting on their hood. There was no use.
Tomorrow won’t be a better day. There’s no point in believing such a lie.
The distant victory horns and music played. Seems like Foggy won. She was one of the only horses he actually liked—Foggy Afterevening was the nicest horse ever. It’s just that he doesn’t like talking to others.
Hoofsteps from behind were quiet and kept growing in volume. Hopeless didn’t care.
“Hey, Hope,” a familiar, terrible voice groaned. “Whatcha doin’ out here? You’re up next. It’s the… shoot, what’s it called… Ah, the pinball map.”
Hopeless hesitated. He didn’t want to turn around and bother opening their damn mouth and tell the other horse they won’t be participating anymore. “... You sound terrible.”
“Heh, well, Meemaw broke m’ ankle. Should be healin’ up pretty soon.” Damn it all. It was John. “She really knows how to ball, man. Didn’t think she could be a basketball star.” A hand went to Hopeless’s shoulder, who quickly backed away from the contact. They didn’t want to be touched by their literal enemy. “So, you still didn’t answer me. What’s goin’ on here? Why’re you still out? Again, you gotta participate in your round. Believe Honseday should be after Pinball.”
They remained in silence, only hearing and feeling the rain slowly increase in its rainfall. “Don’t wanna.”
John sighed with a chuckle and tried to lean on Hopeless, who, again, stayed away. “Aw, come on! Is it about last round? I only showed you my victory carrots because I wanted to show you—”
“That you were better than me?” Hopeless abruptly snapped, stepping further away from John. “Nobody does such a thing to a specific horse. That’s a terrible thing to do to someone who performs worse than the others.” Their voice began to crack as the skies thundered and continued to darken.
“Hope, you speed up the longer a round goes, you ain’t worse than—”
“But I hardly win when that happens, don’t I?” Their breath shook as they finally glanced at John’s face. Their long, overgrown bangs were almost in the way, but he was still able to somewhat see the horse in front of him. “Just because I get temporarily stronger doesn’t mean I can guarantee a victory for me. I haven’t won once. Once. And that’s all I want. Even if the prize is temporary.”
“I show my trophy to you first because that’s what I know you can grow into. A winner.” John adjusted the sheriff-like star necklace closer to the middle of his chest. “But you read it wrong. You’re so… bitter about it.” The rain patted dismally against John’s cowboy hat, making it almost a little harder to hear Hopeless’s words.
“Then say that.” Hopeless’s band-aids started to peel off from the excessive water falling onto their face. “Because right now, I don’t believe you. I believe you’re such a stuck-up victor that has to flaunt it in the big loser’s face. My face. I can’t believe you decided to stick with me.”
“Because—...”
“Because what?!” Their voice started to rip their throat. “Because it makes you feel better if I feel worse?! Because it’s damn well working! I better see a huge grin on your face!”
But John wore the opposite of a smile or anything like that. His face was tense, upset, despaired. “No…”
“That’s all I know from everyone here! They steal what I have dreams of reaching!” Hopeless felt their vision distort and blur, their entire neck felt like they were being strangled to death. “Y-You… all the other horses…! All of you just… just want me to lose…!”
John reached a hand out like it could save Hopeless from their mental pit. “No, Hope, that’s… not how it is…”
“Then why…!” Their voice started to lose itself. “Why can’t all of you show it… if that’s true…!” The wind started to blow their long, messy ponytail in loads of directions like a slap to their whole body.
“I’m trying to convince them to—!” John yelled, desperate to keep Hope on the metaphoric line. “I’m tryin’ to get them to let ya win!”
“And yet I haven’t… I can’t believe your words if it’s so evident it’s a lie. It’s all a lie, John! I know what you’re really trying to do!” Hopeless screamed back, at volumes they never thought they could reach against another horse. Every word they threw up out of their mouth felt like a curse that was being cast against them, chaining him up like a prisoner. “I know you just want to hurt me. I know you find enjoyment out of my suffering. I know your only reasoning for your flaunting is to see me cry. Well, here!” They let their tears overflow, running down as quick as the rain. “This is what you wanted to see, isn’t it?! My salty tears running down my bandaged face so you could laugh about it to the other horses?! There’s the prize you’ve wanted for so long!”
John blinked away his own tears and grabbed Hopeless by the collar. “That’s not the fuckin’ prize I want, Hope! What I wanted was to see you smile, even once, dammit! I shot at the other horses to give you an advantage! Cherry and Aqua are too good! It ain’t my fault nobody wants to listen to an ordinary horse like me! If I was just as colorful and flamboyant as them, then you woulda definitely won so many damn carrots you woulda been rainin’ in ‘em!” He continued to stare into Hopeless’s red, streaming eyes and pulled away with such a force that they stumbled back. “But you won’t listen, either. ‘Cause you’re so convinced everyone hates ya.”
“Because it’s true—”
“It’s not!” He stepped closer. “It’s really not! If it was everyone, I wouldn’t be here tryna talk to you!” John breathed so harshly, he could inhale the grass beneath his feet with ease. “I don’t know why you’re so convinced the whole world hates you. You got people in the audience cheering for you, and you think everyone hates your guts.”
“They don’t matter. I’m not stuck with them for who the hell knows how long. I’m stuck with you and the other horses. I’m not stuck with no damn audience.” Hopeless finally faced away, looking at the grass. “Go tell the other horses I’m quitting. No, just—... Just don’t acknowledge me. They won’t even figure out a speck of dust like me disappeared without warning.” They started to walk from John before stopping and tearing off their sheriff star necklace. “Just don’t.”
Tomorrow won’t be a better day. So there won’t have to be a tomorrow after this for Hopeless Endeavor.