Vinyl Records and House Lights

by StrongBrush1

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Other, Romance, DJ P0N-3
Length: 6686

Neon Lights (MC W1sh) and Vinyl Scratch (DJ Pon-3): Is it a bitter rivalry, or a sweet romance?

DJ Pon-3 and MC Wish hate each other with a passion. They always down-talk each other in interviews every chance they get. There's no chance that they could ever like each other at all.

Or, at least, that's what the record label would have you believe...

Published 2014-06-17 15:30:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-06-17 15:30:04 UTC

Vinyl Records and House Lights

Hot... thought Vinyl Scratch. Way too hot out. The unicorn’s white coat was beading with sweat. She wiped her forehead, careful not to knock off her glasses.. Her royal blue mane was hanging in her face and making it hard for her to see. On top of that, there were lights shining in her eyes.This was only adding to her already massive headache. But she soldiered on.

“Listen up Canterlot!” DJ Pon-3 yelled out to the crowd, “We’re gonna make this last one so loud that they’ll be able to hear it over in Trottingham! You ready?”

The crowd cheered loudly. But not loudly enough for the DJ.

“Can’t hear you! I said ARE YOU READY?”

The crowd was in an uproar now. Vinyl smiled a bit. Even under the hot stage lights, the DJ had the power to command the microphone like nopony’s business.

“Alright! LET’S DO THIS!”

The DJ started playing the synth track, mixing it for the audience as best she could. The bass was cranked up to eleven, fog filled the floor of the stage. The incredibly loud noise banged against Vinyl’s eardrums. She could feel the beat pulsing through her body as the crowd in front of her went absolutely crazy.

The instrumental continued and the audience was loving it. DJ Pon-3 kept a smile on her face but Vinyl prayed to Celestia that the show would be done soon, because if this kept up, she was going to go deaf. She loved music too much to be deaf. But she kept mixing the records and dropping beats for the excited audience.

Eventually, the noise subsided and the crowd left happy. The DJ waved to them all and bid them goodnight, packed up her equipment and went backstage to her trailer, relieved that she was not only done with her concert but with her Equestrian Tour as a whole. She could relax for a moment and catch her breath. DJ Pon-3 had never done this many shows in a row before. And for the sake of Vinyl’s health, she never would ever again.

Vinyl knew that being a party animal was part of being DJ Pon-3. Vinyl, however, was different than DJ Pon-3. DJ Pon-3 lived only on the Stage. Vinyl had a life off of the stage. It was hard to believe they were the same pony.

Vinyl sat backstage, glasses off, and pondered her life. She loved being a musician, but the demands from her record label were getting increasingly demanding. She had told them, in advance, that she would never do a tour this long ever again. But she was sure they would find some ridiculous way to further exploit her.

These fears were proven true, when, in the middle of her nap, one of her backstage assistants passed her a letter from Cherry Pit Records.

Vinyl grudgingly opened and read the letter, sure that whatever they had written in it was some kind of asinine publicity stunt.

Dear Ms. Scratch,

We are writing to tell you that we have a request for any future shows that you may put on. Recently, we have picked up a new musician who has put out his first album, and fans and critics are starting to believe that there will be tension between you and our new client.

We believe that it would be an excellent publicity opportunity for you and the client, whom we will refer to solely as MC W1sh, to humor the audience and play up the confrontation for dramatic effect. In order to maintain the illusion, please do not talk to, spend time with or be friendly towards this stallion in public, or refer to him by his real name.

Sincerely,

The Creative Team of Cherry Pit Records

Vinyl sighed at the thought of a fake rivalry. They were really pushing for ideas to put ponies in the concert seats. And who was this MC W1sh dude anyway? Probably nopony important. Whatever the case, she was going to have a word with the Cherry Pit label if they seriously expected her to do this.

Vinyl Scratch,with straightened mane and sans glasses, sat quietly in her favorite coffee shop. It was one of the only places she could go to without being spotted. She was glad she could do what she loved for a living, but she often wished that she could go one day without hearing the phrase ‘you look familiar.’

“Joe!” she yelled into the kitchen. “Another cup. And get me a doughnut.”

“Yes, Ms. Scratch,” said Joe.

“And don’t say my name.”

“Sorry.” Joe rolled his eyes. Every week with this kid, he thought, coming in here and acting like she’s trying to protect her secret identity or something. Pfft. Imagine a pony trying to keep a secret identity. Joe took his eyes off the fryer for a moment as his thoughts started to wander. Where did I leave my Daring Do book?

The door opened, letting another potential customer in. Oh no, thought Vinyl. Please don’t let him recognize me.

“Hey,” said the new stallion, who bore a short black mane and a light aquamarine coat. “Is anypony in the kitchen?”

“Yeah,” shouted Joe, “what do you want?”

“Get me a latte. I need it.” The stallion sat down next to Vinyl, barely noticing her.

Vinyl decided to be sociable and talk to the poor guy. He looked like he hadn’t slept in Celestia knows how long. Vinyl knew that look of drowsiness and despair well. She had worn it herself when she started working at Cherry Pit.

“Rough time at work, huh?” asked Vinyl.

The stallion turned towards her. She hadn’t noticed until now that he was a unicorn. “They had me working all night last night,” he said. “I have such a headache.”

“I know what you mean,” she said. “Long nights are the worst.”

Joe brought the two unicorns their respective orders. Vinyl dunked her doughnut in the coffee and took a bite. It felt good to be eating something for a change.

The stallion sipped his latte and looked over at her. “You know, you look kind of familiar.”

Vinyl sighed. “I get that a lot.”

“What’s your name?”

Vinyl thought a bit. Will he recognize me if I tell him? Eh, whatever. He probably won’t care anyway. “My name is Vinyl Scratch. What’s yours?”

The stallion took a short pause. “Neon Lights. Nice to meet you.”

“Neon Lights? Where’d you get that name?”

“My parents named me after the first thing I saw after I was born. How about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, how did your parents decide on ‘Vinyl Scratch’?”

“Because the protection didn’t work,” she half-joked.

Neon wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Go on, Neon, he thought to himself. Say something nice to her. “Good thing it didn’t.” Wow, that was a stupid thing to say.

Regardless of Neon’s self-critique, Vinyl smiled a bit. “Thanks.”

There was a bit of an awkward silence between the two.

“So, what do you like to do for fun?” asked Neon.

“What?”

“What are your hobbies?”

Vinyl decided to stop being secretive and just have a friendly chat. “I like to make music.”

Neon looked confused. “You mean you’re a musician, right?”

Vinyl realized her poor choice of words and laughed. Neon joined her. “Yeah, that’s what I meant, not… oh, wow.” She calmed down and composed herself. “What about you?”

“Actually, I’m a bit of a musician too.”

“Really? That’s awesome.”

“Yeah, my stuff’s not all that good, though.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m sure it’s great.”

Neon blushed a bit. “Thanks.”

Vinyl suddenly remembered that she was on a schedule and looked at the time on her watch. Afterwards, she quickly downed the rest of her coffee. “Sorry to leave so soon, but I’ve got a meeting later today and I really need to go home and take a nap.”

Neon processed this. Wait, I have a meeting today too... Eh, I’m sure it’s just a coincidence. “I understand. Nice talking to you, Ms. Scratch.”

“You too, Mr. Lights.” Vinyl headed out, careful not to let anyone see her.

Neon just sat and waited until he had to go back to work. He attempted to talk to the pony in the kitchen. “Hey- Joe, was it?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Does she come here often?”

Vinyl stood in the offices of Cherry Pit Records, deep in character as DJ Pon-3 and ready to meet the pony she would soon be calling her bitter rival. It was probably some guy that just waltzed in off the street with little to no talent anyway.

Her manager, the infamous Mr. Filthy Rich, rambled off all of the terms and conditions of her feud. Meanwhile, the DJ got worked up and ready to pounce on the fresh meat they were bringing in.

“Do you understand?” finished Mr. Rich.

Vinyl hadn’t been listening to a single word, but she knew what the conditions were. She didn’t care who she was feuding with. The idea was stupid anyway.

“Yeah, yeah,” responded the DJ. “Bring the sucker in.”

The door of the office opened about five seconds later to reveal a unicorn stallion, wearing black shades, a black shirt and a white tie. The rest of him looked rather familiar. Something about the messy black mane and the aquamarine coat and…

Uh oh.

“You?” the two unicorns said simultaneously.

Rich looked at them both with intrigue. “Do you two know each other.?”

They both panicked. “Uh, no sir,” responded the DJ.

“Alright, then I will introduce you. DJ Pon-3, this is our newest client, MC W1sh. MC W1sh, this is DJ Pon-3.”

Vinyl was feeling conflicted about having to fight with such a nice guy. But DJ Pon-3 was more than willing enough to put this poser in his place.

“Alright, listen to me, tough guy. I don’t know how you think this is gonna work, but let’s get one thing straight: I have been working here longer than you have, so don’t get to acting like you own the place, got it?”

Neon felt a little hurt by the words of the DJ. He wanted to drop the charade. But MC W1sh decided to bite back. “Look, girl, I don’t know who you think you are acting all high and mighty, but when I’m around, you keep your mouth shut. ”

Vinyl was a bit shocked. The manager noticed that tension was getting high.

“Do the two of you need a minute alone?”

“Yes,” the two performers responded at the same time.

Rich left the office and shut the door behind him. The two performers dropped the act.

“You’re MC W1sh?” asked Vinyl, taking off her glasses.

Neon took off his glasses as well. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you before!” he said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

“Same reason you didn’t tell me, I’m guessing.”

“What, the secret identity thing?”

“Yeah.”

Vinyl sighed. This was getting ridiculous. “Do we really have to do this fake feud thing? I mean, I knew it was a stupid idea from the beginning, but even if it wasn’t...”

Neon shushed her a bit, reminding her silently that Mr. Rich was right outside. “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do, but if we want to keep our jobs, we’re gonna have to keep this up. All we have to do is pretend to hate each other. It can’t be that hard, right?”

Vinyl thought about this. She couldn’t stand lying, but she knew that her future depended on it. “Alright. But don’t take anything I say personally, okay?”

“Okay. When we walk out, we’re going to act like we’re furious with each other. Oh, and keep your glasses on.”

The two unicorns agreed. From now on, they were strictly fake enemies. They both put on their glasses and stomped out the door, pretending to be angry. “Get out of my sight, ya newbie!”

“Why don’t you just shove those glasses up your-”

“Okay, save it for the stage, you two,” interrupted Mr. Rich.

“Stage?” asked Neon. “What stage?”

“Oh yes, I forgot to mention: You’re having a battle concert in about a month.”

“A month?” yelled Vinyl. “You promised me at LEAST two months off!”

“I did. Two months off of touring, not work.”

“Ugh…”

“Don’t worry. You don’t have to do much. It’s just a few interviews, and then a concert.”

“How many is ‘a few’?”

“So, DJ,” said the reporter, holding his mic way too close to Vinyl’s face. “I’ve been hearing rumors that you and upcoming artist MC W1sh are… having a dispute. Is this true?”

DJ Pon-3 scoffed. “That newbie is just jealous that I’m more popular than he is. He’s no skin off my back. He’ll probably fizzle out before too long.”

“But are you actually arguing with him? Or has there been an actual confrontation?”

“Look, buddy, what happens between me and that little hack is of no concern to you. All you need to know is he hates me and I hate him. Are you happy with my answer?”

“Well…”

“Too bad, I’m moving on. Next question.” Ugh. A few interviews, my butt. I don’t know how many times I can stand to answer the same questions, thought Vinyl. The rinse and repeat process of doing interviews was beginning to get ridiculous. She hoped that Neon was having a better time in the studio than she was talking to what seemed like the same reporter over and over again.

“Turn the volume loud… loud, loud, loud…” went the sound byte.

Neon started going over the finishing touches on his latest track for his upcoming album. He was hopeful that, in time, it would prove to be a huge hit. However, the fact that his label was telling him to work overtime in order to make the release date was wearing him out.

The next album he was working on was planned to have about twelve or thirteen four-to-five minute tracks. So far he had only done eight, and had been doing the ninth since eight in the morning. He enjoyed making music and knew what he wanted to do, but even his love of music was not enough to make him forget his need to rest.

As soon as the recording stopped, Neon received a message from the higher-ups reminding him that the album needed to be finished within two weeks if they wanted to release it the next month.

Oh, thank you very much, Neon thought to himself. I had no idea I was on a deadline. Good thing you sent me thirty reminders this week! Ugh, this is worse than being in high school.

It annoyed Neon that he was already being squeezed even though he had only joined the label three months ago. And on top of this, they had interviews lined up all day on Saturday, which essentially meant he was working the weekend.

Neon wanted to be a musician ever since he was a young kid, but this kind of tiresome labor was not what he had in mind when he started making music.

If I ever get enough bits, I’m becoming an independent producer.

Neon decided to relax and listen to the radio. Maybe some inspiration would strike.

The radio crackled as Neon looked for a good station. “...elcome back, I’m here with the one and only DJ Pon-3. Say hello to the folks at home.”

“Yo, what’s up, everypony? Nice to talk to y’all.”

Neon had promised himself he wouldn’t listen to interviews, but he decided he would see what Vinyl said about him. Or at least what ‘DJ Pon-3’ was saying about ‘MC W1sh.’

“Fantastic. So, DJ, I’ve been hearing rumors that you and upcoming artist MC W1sh are… having a dispute. Is this true?”

Neon heard a scoff. “That newbie is just jealous that I’m more popular than he is. He’s no skin off my back. He’ll probably fizzle out before too long.”

Neon was speechless. He had heard criticism from hundreds of ponies and never even once let their comments get to him. But something about hearing Vinyl say this about him… it really stung. It cut deep.

“But are you actually arguing with him? Or has there been an actual confrontation?”

“Look, buddy, what happens between me and that little hack is of no concern to you. All you need to know is he hates me and I hate him.”

Neon began to tear up a little, but quickly got a hold of himself. It’s just a publicity stunt. It’s just an act. She doesn’t mean it. Despite his best efforts though, he still felt a sting.

“Now, then. Not to touch a sore subject, but what are your opinions on DJ Pon-3?”

Neon was, truly, still sore about Vinyl’s comments. But MC W1sh could shed no tears. He had to retort. “Tell you what. I don’t care. She means nothing to me. She’s just feeling threatened because I’m new, and she’s getting old. Personally, I wouldn’t care one way or the other if she just left the label and never came back.”

“Wow, some biting commentary from a very smart young artist. Now, can you tell a little about your background.”

Tell you what you can do, thought Neon, you can actually ask me about my MUSIC. He wanted so badly to just call out the interviewer on his cheap tactics. But he complied. “Well, I’m from a bit of a traditional home…”

Sunday finally came around, and thank Celestia for that. After a long week of doing interviews and recording and even publicity stunts, Neon was exhausted beyond any and all comprehension. He walked into the coffee shop, looking a little different than normal.

Vinyl was naturally the first one to spot him, which was good because he only wanted to talk to her anyway. “Neon?” she asked. “What in Celestia’s name are those things?”

Neon was almost too tired to think. “What are what?”

“Are those wings?”

Neon looked to his sides, saw the feathery objects, and his brain started working again. “Oh. You mean these? Don’t worry about it, they’re fake.”

“Why are you wearing fake wings?”

“They had me doing a publicity stunt over in Manehatten for my latest single. I literally just got off of the train half an hour ago.”

“So, why are you wearing fake wings?”

Neon groaned. “Because the single is called ‘The Flight of the Royals’. Can we change the subject? I’m really tired and I don’t see myself getting much sleep this week.”

“Sorry. I’m just curious is all.”

Another awkward silence. But for a different reason this time.

“So,” said Neon, a little irritated, “I heard your interview.”

Vinyl knew where this was going. “Look, I understand you’re upset, but I was just playing a character. I didn’t mean any of those things. It’s just an act.”

“I know, but it just bothers me.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think your music is great.”

Neon smiled a little bit. “Thanks. I feel the same way.”

Vinyl was still distracted by Neon’s fake wings. He looked very regal.

“Vinyl, is my face not nice enough to look at?.”

“Sorry, it’s just... you look really cool in those fake wings. Almost like an actual prince.”

Neon grinned. He shifted in his seat a bit. “Well, do you mind if I take these off? They itch.”

“I’d be happy to help you with that.“

Neon suddenly panicked. “Woah! No offense, but I wouldn’t get too close if I were you.”

Vinyl was confused. “Why not?”

“You know, we’re technically not supposed to be talking right now. If the label finds out we’ve been meeting with each other outside of work, they’d flip out. And not in a good way.”

Vinyl suddenly remembered Mr. Rich’s lecture and got a little bummed out. “Oh yeah, right. That’s too bad.”

Neon felt a bit sorry for snapping at Vinyl. He started thinking again and looked around the empty coffee shop and checked outside the window. They were alone, except for Joe, who was probably in the kitchen busy with the latest Daring Do book. “Then again, what they don’t know won’t hurt them, will it?”

Vinyl sat up straight and started to grin. “Flirting with danger, huh Neon?” She gave him a flirtatious look. “I think I’m starting to like you.”

Neon blushed. His fake wings suddenly sprung up. “You… what?”

Vinyl chuckled a bit. “I’m just playing with you. You want me to take those fake wings off?”

Neon grinned, still blushing. “If you would be so kind.”

Once Neon undid the straps holding the false wings, Vinyl charged up her magic and levitated the set of phony wings off of Neon’s back.

“Well, I’m not a royal anymore,” said Neon, relieved of the weight lifted from his back.

“Good thing you’re still handsome enough to be one,” said Vinyl, smirking.

“Knock it off,” said Neon, blushing again.

The two shared a chuckle and looked at each other. Somehow, when they spent time together, they could just forget all about work and focus on how the other looked.

Neon checked the clock. “Well, I can’t stay for long,” he said. “If I want to get any sleep, I’ll have to do it before tomorrow.” He got up and started to leave, but Vinyl stopped him.

“Neon?”

Neon turned around. “Yeah, Vinyl?”

“Do you think I could… come over to your place sometime?”

Neon considered this. He really didn’t want to get in trouble with the label or lose his job, but then again he had been breaking the rules of the agreement for almost a week now. Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to meet in private. As long as no one sees us. “I’d like that. I’ll send you a letter later so you know where to find me.”

“Okay, see you later.” Neon left, grinning happily and carrying the fake wings in his bag. Vinyl sat and thought to herself. Of all the musicians they could have put me up against, it was this guy. I guess life is just funny like that sometimes.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Joe sat, reading his Daring Do book, and looked at Vinyl. Once again, the DJ was just sitting, moping and thinking to herself. Does anypony come in here just to get coffee and doughnuts anymore?

Vinyl sat outside the door of the recording room, wearing her glasses and quietly waiting. Just to be careful, she was also constantly checking to see that no one was around. Just stay calm, she thought. Be cool.

“Vinyl?”

Vinyl screamed for a split second. Right behind her was Neon, in the guise of MC W1sh. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry about that. I just wanted to let you know I’m done recording.”

“You could have done that without scaring me half to death!”

Neon shushed her quickly and levitated her a piece of paper. “Look,” he whispered, “be careful with this letter. If anyone catches you with it, we’re both in trouble.”

Vinyl calmed down. “I know.” Vinyl took the letter and rolled it up. “Just keep quiet about it and there won’t be any trouble.” Out of the corner of her eye, Vinyl noticed an intern coming by. She quickly switched gears. “Yeah, you heard me!” the DJ yelled out loud. “I better not see you taking my things again, or you’ll be in real trouble!”

Neon was a bit confused, but then started to play along. “Like I even care! You ain’t the boss of me!” Neon turned to look at the intern, who had stopped to stare at the developing conflict. “And what do you think you’re looking at? You got something to say?” The intern quickly continued on his way.

“Nice save,” Vinyl whispered.

“You too,” he replied quietly. “You’d better book it back home before anypony else comes by. I’ll see you over the weekend.”

“Got it.” Vinyl took the letter and ran off, careful not to let anyone see her as she left the building and headed back home. On the way out of the building, she started thinking about the possible outcomes of this particular situation. The way she figured, it could go a couple of different ways:

One, they kept up the charade for years to come until the charade became reality. Two, they get discovered together in public, get fired, and have to search for new work outside of Canterlot. Three, they quit their jobs, confess their relationship to the public and form one of those indie duos that are so popular lately. Four…

WHAM!

Vinyl rubbed her forehead and quickly got up off the ground. She quietly hoped that nopony had seen her walk into the door. This was the fourth or fifth time she had done that this month. Just walk it off, and get back up. It’s not a problem.

Vinyl checked the letter. This was definitely the right address, but Neon’s house looked fairly standard from the outside. It was big, but otherwise pretty normal by Canterlot standards.

She knocked on the door, hoping that Neon would answer quickly.

Ten seconds went by and Neon peeked outside. “Oh, it’s you. Glad you made it. Get inside and don’t let anyone see.”

Vinyl entered the house, which was decorated with neon lights, a couch, a coffee table, and a corner dedicated exclusively to Neon’s music collection. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks. I know it’s not much, but it’s home to me.”

Vinyl went to sit down on the couch.

This was no ordinary couch. This couch was magical. It had to be. There was absolutely no other way it could reach this level of absolute comfiness. Vinyl let out a long sigh of pleasure. “Oh, I am in heaven,” she said.

Neon smiled. He knew the experience well. “I know, right? I bought that couch at a garage sale for like fifty bits. Way underpriced, if you ask me.”

“This is the best thing ever, easily.” If only I had some tea...

“You want some tea?”

Oh dear Celestia, he can read my mind. “Yes please. Green.”

Neon went into the kitchen to get the water boiling. Vinyl reclined on the couch and looked over at Neon’s record collection, admiring the vast selection of CDs on his shelf.

“Hey Neon, you mind if I listen to some music?”

“Not at all, just put the CD back where you found it when you’re done.”

Vinyl got up from the couch and looked through the collection. After a quick run-through, she grabbed and put on the Carts’ greatest hits album. Soon, the room was filled with the sounds of ‘Just What I Needed.’

Neon headed back into the living room to sit on the couch. Vinyl joined him and the two laid back on the world’s comfiest couch, listening to classic rock.

“I love this,” said Neon.

“Love what?”

“This. This whole set-up. You, the music, the best couch ever… I just love it.”

Vinyl thought for a moment. She was supposed to hate him. She was supposed to never be seen with him. It was either that, or they both lost everything. This was wrong. It was incredibly wrong. But, they were here, and they were both likely thinking the same thing. It felt weird.

Neon sighed. “You probably don’t care, though…”

Vinyl turned to Neon. “Why do you say that?”

“I guess I’m still just thinking about that interview. Maybe you weren’t thinking about it, but those things you said… they just hit really close to home. They hurt a lot.”

Vinyl took a deep breath. “Neon, I was just acting. It was a character. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“So you never really thought that I was just going to fizzle out, or that I’m a hack?”

Vinyl wanted to say no, but she realized that she would be lying if she did. “Look, I guess I got a little too personal, and a little too harsh. I’m really sorry that I did. You’re a nice guy, and I’m sure you’re a very good musician. You shouldn’t let a bunch of trash talk get to you.”

“But it does get to me. Not just because of what you’re saying, it’s because you’re saying it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I look up to you. Like you said, you’re more famous than I am. I know this sounds dumb, but I admire your work and your music. It’s so beautifully crafted… But what have I got?”

Vinyl looked at him. “You’re a fan of mine?”

“Well, when I heard your first album, I just couldn’t believe that somepony younger than me could make something that good. Your music inspired me to do my best. But no matter how much I try, I just can’t do it right…”

Vinyl looked at Neon. She recognized his look: the ‘I’m not good enough’ look. “Doubt.”

Neon picked his head up. “What was that?”

“Doubt. There’s nothing wrong with your music. You’re just second-guessing yourself.”

“You really mean that?”

“Look, nobody is completely happy with the things they make. They always tell themselves they could have done better. I’m no exception, either. Sometimes I wish I could go back and change a couple of my tracks. Remember ‘iRock’?”

“I love that song!”

“I thought it was terrible when I first listened to it. I didn’t even want to put it on the album, but everyone I talked to told me it was fantastic. After a while, I started to realize they were right. You can’t let self-doubt get the best of you.”

Neon thought this over. The CD started playing ‘You Might Think.’ What are you waiting for? yelled Neon’s thoughts. This is your cue, dude! Make a move! Take a chance! KISS HER! Despite the constant stream of thoughts, Neon remained still and quiet, choosing to simply smile and say “Thank you, Vinyl.”

Vinyl smiled at him. She knew what he was probably thinking, and she was starting to think the same thing. But she knew she couldn’t do it. It would get them both in trouble. I can’t just sit here staring at him the rest of the evening. I need a distraction quickly. Something, anything. Vinyl glanced over at the kitchen, expecting to hear the faintest hint of a whistle. No such luck. Stupid teapot, you missed your cue!

“I want to talk to you about something.”

That’s what I was afraid of. “What about?”

“Well, about you and me. If we keep up this fake rivalry… do you think we’re going to end up hating each other for real?”

“I don’t know, Neon. I think that only time will tell.”

“But is it possible? I mean-”

The teapot's whistle blew.

Oh thank Celestia, thought Vinyl. “I’ll get it!”

Tonight was the night. The concert of a lifetime. A one-night-only, completely sold out battle of the beats between the Legendary DJ Pon-3 and the Incredible MC W1sh, in beautiful Ponyville. Everypony there was nervous about how this would go. The audience was eager with anticipation to see who would win, the higher-ups at Cherry Pit were hoping that this concert would be good enough to release as an album or video sometime in the future, and of course the stars of the show were praying that they could maintain the facade throughout the concert.

The prep work was the same as usual for both performers. The sets and songs changed, but the prep work never did. Fortunately, they had that part of the show down pat. They got dressed up, they plugged in their audio stations, and they looked over the agreed-on setlist. They were as ready as they could be.

The lights came up on the DJ and the MC. The crowd went abolutely nuts. There were thousands of ponies in the audience, plus there were probably going to be millions more who watched it on video after the fact. The eyes of the world were turned in their direction. Not that there was any pressure or anything.

The two launched into their stage personas.

MC W1sh decided to start. “Alright, Ponyville! Are we feeling it?”

The crowd cheered him on. But he wasn’t satisfied.

“I said ARE YOU FEELING IT!”

Applause all across the board. They got a great crowd tonight.

The DJ, not to be outdone, decided to set the mood. “I hope you liked the MC while he was around, cause tonight is the last night you’re ever gonna see him.” The audience laughed. Neon smirked a bit.

“Don’t go printing missing pony posters just yet. The DJ and I have unfinished business to attend to. And she’s picking up the check this time.” Scattered voices in the crowd went ‘Oooooooooohhh!’ Vinyl smiled and shook her head.

“I’ve got it. How about we let the audience decide who’s better?”

“Alright, whoever gets more applause at the end of each round wins.”

The audience yelled out its collective support of this idea.

“Alright, round one! Here we go!”

The two artists loaded up their respective tracks. The audience was surprised at how well the two tracks synced up. The DJ played with the track a bit, adding a few record scratches before Neon’s track hit the drop. While the audience went nuts over the brilliantly-composed tracks, Neon and Vinyl stared each other down, almost starting to believe the rivalry was real.

For the next few tracks, the music got more and more intense, and the fans got more and more excited. Insults got thrown, and musical abilities got questioned. By the end of the hour-long set, blood was beginning to boil and the two were nowhere near close to determining a winner. Every time they asked the audience who was better, they both got the same amount of applause. It was getting out of hoof quickly.

“Alright, we’re settling this here and now!” yelled the MC.

“Bring it on! I’m not giving up!” shouted the DJ.

“You might as well! Your music is weak!”

“Your mixing sucks!”

“I have had it with you!”

“I am never working with you again! You have been nothing but a pain to me since day one!”

“I hate you!” Neon took a step back. He couldn’t believe he had just said that. However, the show had to go on. “Yeah, you heard me. I always hated you! I hate your music, I hate the way you dress, I hate your mane, I hate your music, you are the bane of my existence!”

Vinyl, who was usually tough enough to brush insults off, actually started to feel a little hurt by Neon’s words. She knew it was only an act, but seeing the sweet, quiet guy from the coffee shop turn into this raving, hateful lunatic… it was too much. She started to cry a little bit. “Stop,” said Vinyl, quietly.

“Wh… what?” asked Neon.

“Just stop it. This isn’t like you. This isn’t me either. Just stop it.” She was really crying.

Neon stopped. He was suddenly overcome by guilt. He had never seen Vinyl cry before, and he was angry at himself for making her do it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I never meant it.”

The audience was in shock. They had not seen this coming at all.

Neon figured as long as he was apologizing in front of millions of ponies, he might as well go all the way with it. He took off his glasses. “Fillies and gentlecolts, my name is Neon Lights. Everything I said about this mare just now was a lie. Everything I’ve ever said to you about her is wrong. She is a great musician. I respect her as an artist and as a pony. Not only that…” He walked up to her, took off her glasses, and looked her in the eyes. “I love her.”

The audience was so shocked that nopony could even speak. Jaws were hanging open and eyes were fixed on the stage with full attention.

“Vinyl Scratch. I have a question that may seem like the stupidest question in the world. I feel like an idiot for even thinking about it, but… will you be my special somepony?”

Vinyl was still crying, but she had stopped frowning and was now smiling. “Of course I will,” Vinyl said. Immediately after, she hugged him. He hugged her back, smiling and starting to cry a little himself. The audience, now recovered from the shock of what just happened, applauded wildly and cheered for an encore.

“I take back everything I said about you in those interviews,” said Vinyl.

“It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it.”

The two turned and looked at the audience. They loved it. They were even more enthusiastic than before. They wanted more of this.

“What do you think, Neon?” asked Vinyl. “One last song?”

“One last song," he agreed. Before that, though, they took advantage of the moment for their first kiss. The crowd was ecstatic.

The concert was over, and so was the fake rivalry. And if what they had been told prior was any indication, so were both of their careers. The two lovebirds went backstage, preparing for a few choice words from their manager, Mr. Filthy Rich, who had witnessed the whole incident.

“I want to talk to the two of you…” he began.

Oh dear, here it comes, they both thought.

“You’re not mad that we blew the routine, are you?” Neon asked.

“Blew it? You completely turned it on its head! Everypony from Manehattan to Las Pegasus is going crazy over how you two not only stopped fighting, you started making up and making out!”

“Yeah, yeah, just say it and we’ll be going,” Vinyl said, a little upset that her breakdown caused the entire act to crumble.

“You two… did the BEST SHOW I’ve ever seen in my life!”

“Wait, what?” asked Vinyl, confused.

“Didn’t you see the crowd? They love you two! They’re more excited about you than ever before! This is the greatest thing to ever happen to this company! Heck, you had me clapping my hooves when you two kissed!”

“So we’re not fired?” asked Neon.

“Of course not. Truth be told, the fake rivalry was kind of a dumb idea anyway.”

Vinyl and Neon wanted to yell out loud right then and there that they knew it was stupid from the beginning. But, they kept their mouths shut and silently accepted their victory.

“I just wanted to do two things. First of all, let me apologize. Making you fight was the wrong thing to do. Second, not to tell you how to do your jobs… believe me, after what just happened, I am done with that… but, I think that you two ought to collaborate on a new album. Think of how great it will sound! The public will love it! You two will be top of the charts for weeks, or maybe months!”

Vinyl and Neon looked at each other, smiled and turned back to Mr. Rich.

“Apology accepted,” said Neon.

“Also, we’ll see what we can do,” said Vinyl.

“Great,” said Mr. Rich. “As long as I’m here, I’d better get back home and check on my daughter. I’ll just leave you two alone.”

Mr. Rich walked away, happier than ever to be proven wrong, and left Vinyl and Neon alone backstage. The two new lovers stood and stared at each other for a while.

“So…” said Neon. “What now?”

“Whatever you want,” said Vinyl.

Neon smiled and the two packed up their stuff. After heading through the massive crowd and signing as many autographs as was possible, the two got onto a train bound for Canterlot. If all went well, the world’s comfiest couch would be getting some good use by this time tomorrow.