Fame, Fortune & Facades

by Anonymous Pegasus

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Sex
Length: 4039

DJ-N30N, one of the greatest DJs in Equestria, is forced to confront her own strange nature when she meets a pony who sees straight through her.

Bass Flare, better known as DJ-N30N to the fine ponies of Manehattan, has everything a pony like her could want. Fame, fortune, and music!

But it only takes one person to make even the most confident pony doubt everything they know.

Especially when you're hiding a secret as large as Bass Flare's...

Artwork by Kyth

Published 2014-02-19 21:20:05 UTC
Last updated 2014-02-19 21:20:05 UTC

First Contact

Sundowner groaned faintly, throwing a hoof over his face to block out the rays of the sun seemingly piercing his skull.

The curtains, hurriedly drawn across the window, were letting in just enough light to spill across his face, waking the earth pony ‘early’. Truth be told, Sundowner estimated it was almost midday, given the quality of the light, but his mind was not given towards such cheery thoughts when he had a throbbing, pounding headache.

Sundowner made a face, eyes still clenched closed, rubbing his swollen tongue against the roof of his mouth. His mouth was dry. His throat was dry. The light was hurting his head. He wanted to throw up. All symptoms of a good night out.

A soft groan left the earth pony as he dragged his protesting form out of bed and crawled towards the bathroom, shouldering the door open. He lifted his forehooves to the edge of the sink, and twisted the tap on, staring into the mirror blearily. The tousled-mane countenance of himself stared back at him tiredly, with bags under his eyes and slack features. Soft, creamy yellow body, golden, tousled, messy but rather handsome mane, piercing green eyes. Sundowner had all the looks of a handsome young colt and it got him many a pretty filly.

Sundowner sighed faintly and then dropped his nose straight into the sink, letting the cold water run directly over his face. Seconds later, he came up for air, gasping heavily and sitting back on his rump with a faint thud, blinking rapidly and shaking his head to try and clear it.

A hoof lifted to push at his mane, brushing some of the moisture backwards across the unruly strands, slicking it down and applying a soothing coolness to the back of his neck and shoulders.

Once he felt moderately more alive, Sundowner turned the tap off and gave his face a brisk brush with a towel, deliberately tousling his mane to give it a rakish appearance. Humming thoughtfully, he turned his head from one side, to the other, inspecting himself to make sure he looked just right, and then headed back out of the bathroom.

Grinning, Sundowner crawled up onto the bed, straddling the prone form of the mare laying under the cover. She was a pretty little thing, yellow all over with a vivid purple mane. Growling eagerly, he leaned down and pushed his muzzle firmly against the crook of her neck, lipping at the supple flesh there playfully.

The mare shifted, blinking soft purple eyes open to stare up at him, a throaty groan leaving her muzzle.

“Mornin’,” Sundowner said with a grin, his voice awash with a broad country accent. He released her neck and lifted his nose to give her a gentle, but rather heated kiss. “I don’t believe I caught yer name last night in all the excitement.”

A vivid, rosy blush spread across the mare’s muzzle, and she giggled helplessly. “My name’s Cherry Blossom. I… don’t quite remember what happened, but your face is certainly one of the better that I’ve woken up next to.”

Sundowner smirked at that. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said with a generous nod. He hummed thoughtfully, leaning closer to her, letting his weight fall across her body entirely, pushing himself up against her slowly, resting his nose against her own, staring into her eyes. “I do think that I should refresh yer memory though, if ya don’t remember what we did…”

Cherry Blossom flushed even further, and then gave a slow, hesitant nod. “I’d like that…” she murmured, hesitantly lifting her hooves to squeeze around his back slowly.

The slow smile spread across Sundowner’s features again, and he leaned in to kiss her eagerly, pushing their lips together, tilting his head to the side slightly and parting his lips, tongue slipping out to seek her own.

Both mare and stallion froze as there was a knock on the door.

“Sundowner?! Ya in there?!”

Sundowner gave a long, displeased sigh. “Darn it.”

“You have to go?” Cherry Blossom asked, pouting.

Sundowner nodded sadly, giving her a gentle kiss. “I do. I guess we got a lot of product to move today… Is there any chance ya’d be free tonight?”

“Unfortunately, I’m moving on from here this afternoon,” Cherry Blossom said with a faint sigh.

The pounding on the door came again. “Sundowner! I know yer in there! Get decent and get out here!”

Sundowner gave a frustrated growl, face darkening. “Great. Jus’ great.”

Cherry Blossom gave a low hum in the back of her throat, kissing his chin gently. “Go on, get going you sexy thing. I’ll be back in town next week, if you’re here…”

“It’s a date!” Sundowner proclaimed, grinning and kissing her nose eagerly. “Now, ya just gotta make right sure yer here, or I’ll have to come find ya.”

A low purr left the mare’s throat, and she lipped at his cheek passionately. “Is that a promise? I might like you to come find me…”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sundowner said with a slow nod and a smirk, giving the mare a heated kiss before slipping down off the bed and heading for the door, snatching up his wide-brimmed ‘cowpony’ hat as he went. Placing the hat on his mane, he pulled the door open.

A large light-red pony with a golden mane was standing in the doorway, tapping a forehoof impatiently. “Bout damn time.”

“I was busy,” Sundowner said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

The pony leaned to the left, trying to peer into the room, and Sundowner closed the door neatly with a hindhoof. “Aint nothin’ for ya to see in there, Crispy,” he said bluntly.

Honeycrisp snorted once, stamping a hoof. “Ya been in there molesting some young filly, drinking all our product and making a nuisance of yerself, haven’t ya?”

Sundowner pondered for a moment, scratching his chin with a hoof. “That ‘bout sums it up, yeah.”

Honeycrisp growled, clipping Sundowner under the ear with a hoof. “Ya know we gotta sell this stuff. And what with the Salted Saloon out of business for now, we aint even going to be able to sell all of it.”

“Hence why I was lessening the amount of product we have to sell,” Sundowner said smugly, idly rubbing at the base of his ear with a hoof.

Eyes narrowing, Honeycrisp lifted a hoof to point down the hallway. “Get out to the wagon. Now.”

“Fine, fine, I’m going!” Sundowner huffed, turning in place and then marching down the hallway. He stomped down a flight of steps, coming out in the very crowded inn room. Ponies of all walks were occupying every piece of furniture in the room, and several were left to sit against the wall. It had been a week since a freak storm and a twister had torn through the small town, and ponies of all kinds were misplaced by the destruction. The only other inn in town, the Salted Saloon, had been gutted. And while there were only minor injuries from the twister, several houses and businesses were completely unlivable until they were rebuilt. The inn would be seeing a lot of business for a long time.

Sundowner pushed his way through the crowd of people, finally breaking out through the front door, stumbling slightly, and then heading for the cart. It was a big thing, covered in cloth, and stacked to the top with barrels of hard cider.

One hundred barrels of hard cider rested in the cart, with a small space in the front cleared as a bedding area so whoever wasn’t pulling the cart could rest. Each barrel was stamped with the distinctive double-horseshoe crest of the Cyder family. They had been supplying the inns in the area with cider for three generations, and this was the first time Sundowner was the main producer. His father, Arlington, had passed away the previous year, and the last remaining barrels of his secret recipe for hard cider, perfected over two decades of practice, had become no more than apple-flavoured vinegar.

Honeycrisp pushed his way out of the crowd of people around the front door of the inn, with the innkeeper close behind. The innkeeper was a smaller grey unicorn wearing a black top and a small hat perched just behind his horn, who went by the name of Dusty Jangles.

“Sundowner, ya best hope yer cider is up to scratch,” Honeycrisp cautioned as he drew closer.

Sundowner rolled his eyes, wincing at the pain the motion brought about in his temple. “It got me plenty drunk and tasted just fine.”

“You’ve got some mighty big shoes to fill if you’re trying to compete with your father,” Dusty added thoughtfully, peering up at the cider barrels in the cart. “Well, bring one down so we can have a taste.”

Sundowner nodded, clambering up onto the cart and picking up the barrel of cider he had already been steadily working at emptying. It was still two-thirds full, and quite heavy as he passed it off to Honeycrisp. The larger stallion righted the barrel of cider on the step of the cart, and then picked up a dusty cup from the side of the cart, filling it with amber liquid.

“What did you do to make all this, exactly?” the innkeeper asked cautiously, lifting the glass of cider he was offered and peering at it, squinting into the light, observing its clarity.

“I don’t rightly know if I should give ya all my cider brewing secrets,” Sundowner said dubiously.

“I just want to make sure you haven’t done anything untoward to the product,” Dusty assured.

Sundowner looked towards Honeycrisp, raising an eyebrow. Honeycrisp nodded slightly.

“Well, I started with three diff’rent types of apples. I’ll not tell yer which three, but ya get the picture. I ground up the apples with the ol’ mill press at home, strained em, and put the juices in with a special yeast Honeycrisp here made up for me. After that, I added some home-grown sugar, that I won’t tell ya the type of, ter give the cider its punch. Then I just put it away in the cellar until it fermented. I did some fancy stuff to it with the pulp and whatnot—”

Honeycrisp held up a hoof.

Sundowner grinned at that. “And that’s saying too much, it seems. I assure ya, there’s been nothing untoward done to it.”

The innkeeper nodded politely, and then brought the glass to his lips, taking a sip of the cider and rolling it around his mouth curiously. He paused, licking his lips, frowning thoughtfully. “You… added some passionfruit to this, didn’t you?’

Sundowner blinked once, looking towards Honeycrisp. Honeycrisp nodded.

Sundowner turned back towards the Dusty. “Well, yeah, actually. Added a small trickle of it during one of the stages. How’d ya know?”

“A lifetime of tasting ciders,” Dusty replied with a smile. “Your father was known to add various fruits to different batches to keep things fresh every few months. This? This is too bitter. A little too tart and sour.”

Sundowner’s face fell at that. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, m’boy. Everything in life is a work in progress, after all. I’ll certainly purchase your stock though. Does forty barrels sound fair?”

Sundowner sat back on his haunches, letting Honeycrisp take over the conversation.

“Well, y’know the Salted Saloon is out of business for the next little while, right?” Honeycrisp asked tactfully.

“I was aware,” Dusty said, peering up the road towards the half-destroyed inn.

“Well, we went and brought a hundred full barrels of cider here because we didn’t know that the Salted Saloon was gonna go belly-up. Is there any chance ya could buy more?”

The innkeeper frowned, kicking at the ground thoughtfully. “I… I just don’t have the money right now, I’m afraid. I’ve had to stock up on food and hire extra help for the next few weeks just to make sure I can keep up with the influx.”

Honeycrisp winced at that. “Well…. I tell yer what. We done good business with ya for as long as I known. We can give ya twenty extra barrels at thirty percent off and ya can pay us next time we’re in town.”

“You’ll trust me to have the money?” Dusty queried.

Honeycrisp nodded slowly. “I do know where ya live.”

Dusty chuckled at that. “That you do, m’boy. Very well, we have a deal.”

Honeycrisp and the innkeeper shook hooves, and then Honeycrisp turned to Sundowner, making a motion with his hoof.

Sundowner nodded, starting to tug down barrels and line them up at the edge of the cart. Both Honeycrisp and Dusty Jangle moved forwards to heft the barrels of cider, carrying them around the side of the inn and to the cellar entrance.

Sundowner, Honeycrisp and Dusty Jangles were all panting and sweating by the time the last few barrels of cider were being carried into the cellar. Sundowner was turning around from the cart, a full barrel on his shoulder, carefully supported by a single hoof, when he came almost nose-to-nose with the most colourful pony he had seen in weeks.

Stricken with forward momentum, Sundowner tried to sidestep with an awkward three-legged half-hop and utterly lost his balance. Almost instantly, he was face-down in the dirt with the barrel full of liquid thudding down heavily across his shoulders, making him cry out in pain as his hat cartwheeled off his mane and the barrel hit the ground with a soft crack of breaking timbers.

Staggering back to his hooves, Sundowner quickly righted the barrel to halt the stream of golden cider that was pouring from the bottom, upending it to preserve the liquid inside. The pony then sat down hard on his rump and bared his teeth, free hoof lifting to clutch at his shoulder.

After several moments of whining and cursing, Sundowner realised that there was a pair of hooves in front of him. They stood out quite starkly against the dirt-brown of the road, with a soft but vibrant sky-blue colour.

Sundowner peered upwards, taking in the sight of the mare. She was a little shorter than him, with a perfectly-styled, spiky, almost neon-coloured mane in the colours of a sunset; the honey-gold of sunset interspersed with the vivid yellow of the sun itself. Amber-coloured eyes peered at him from over a pair of stylish, round pink glasses.

“I was told that you know where the innkeeper is?” the mare asked bluntly.

Sundowner nodded, jerking his head towards the side of the building. “In the cellar.”

The mare didn’t answer, instead turning on her hooves and heading for the cellar entrance.

Sundowner noted quite quickly that she was a pegasus, and she had a cutie mark comprised of a large speaker and three black music notes. From her attitude, he had been expecting a unicorn.

Sighing faintly, Sundowner pushed the broken barrel towards the cart, leaving it flush against it, before picking up another to carry to the cellar.

“—ow who I am?”

Sundowner caught a snippet of an angry, loud query as he headed down the cellar steps.

“I am DJ Neon! I was told there’d be a reservation for me!” the mare half-shouted.

“I’m sorry, Miss Neon, but your reservation was with the Salted Saloon,” Dusty protested politely.

“And they got hit with a twister! What, am I just supposed to sleep on the street?” DJ Neon asked flatly, pushing her glasses down to give the innkeeper the full measure of her incensed stare.

“I’m sharing my bed with one of my waitresses, there’s so little space,” Dusty Jangles replied with a bland smile still on his muzzle, though his tone was growing more and more short. “There are simply no vacancies.”

“Ugh! I’ve been here all of two minutes and I already hate this town!” DJ Neon scowled, turning on her hooves and storming up the cellar steps, bumping into Sundowner on the way past. “Watch where you’re going!” she snarled at him, as he scrabbled wildly at the barrel before overbalancing.

Sundowner rolled down the steps, cartwheeling after the barrel of cider, wrapping his hooves around it to rescue it, ending up landing hard on his rump with the barrel in his lap and on his stomach. He fell back against the bottom step, wheezing, utterly winded.

“Yer a damn clumsy sod,” Honeycrisp chided as he picked up the barrel effortlessly, placing it with the rest of the barrels they had brought down.

“W-wasn’t my f-fault!” Sundowner managed to gasp between wheezes, pushing himself to his hooves and then reaching up to adjust his hat. “Oh for the love of—”

Honeycrisp raised an eyebrow after his nephew as he scrambled back up the stairs in search of his hat.

Sundowner snatched his hat up, brushing it off roughly with a few slaps of his hoof before carefully depositing it on top of mane. He was already beginning to regret tearing off the dorky straps that would usually keep it safely in place.

Sundowner looked up, blinking once as he caught sight of the haughty pegasus from earlier striding towards him. Immediately, he took a step backwards, holding up a hoof placatingly. “Hey, hey! I’ve had enough injuries for one day!”

“What?” the mare spat, obviously perplexed and more than a little short of temper.

“Just the last two times ya got close to me I ended up on the floor,” Sundowner said with an attempt at a playful smile.

“Well maybe if you weren’t such a klutz, you could spend more of your time walking and less of it eating dirt,” the pegasus said smartly.

The attempted smile immediately slid off Sundowner’s face. “If I had ta guess, I’d put money on ya being from Manehatten.”

“W-what?” the mare asked, wrong-hoofed at the accusation, blinking once in surprise.

“Spot on!” Sundowner said, pumping a hoof in victory.

The mare stared at him, adjusting her glasses and pushing them back up on her nose to cover her eyes entirely. She turned her nose up at him, sniffed once as though heavily insulted, and then turned on her hoofs, instead heading for a stallion leaning against the front of the inn, smoking a cigar.

“You, sir, you seem a civilised sort. Are there any other inns—”

Sundowner turned away, tuning out the conversation, instead pulling himself up onto the cart and grabbing a cup. He nestled himself at the edge of the cart, and then reached down with a hoof to delicately widen the crack in the broken barrel of cider, before dipping his cup into it and then bringing it up to his muzzle. He snuffled at it faintly, and then took a sip, swishing the liquid around in his mouth.

A thoughtful hum left the cidermaker, and he swallowed, before chewing on his cheek for a moment.

‘Bitter’ my country ass,” Sundowner growled to himself, taking another sip of the cider.

Honeycrisp and Dusty Jangles came up from the cellar with a few polite words to each other, shaking hooves, before going their respective ways. Honeycrisp headed towards the cart, a full saddlebag of coins jangling merrily on his hip.

“Oi, what yer doing?” Honeycrisp asked as he grew level with the cart.

Sundowner looked up from leaning over the open barrel, as guilty as a foal caught with a hoof in the cookie jar. “Oh… ah… I was jus’... yer know. I was drinking some of it because it broke when that DJ mare startled me and I was jus’ making sure the liquid level was low ‘nuff for us to move it without spilling it all. Don’t wanna go home smelling like we rolled in the cider do we? Mom would kill us.”

Honeycrisp gave him a long, hard stare. “Ya wanna try a different story?”

“Not buying this one, are ya?” Sundowner asked, lowering his head.

“Nope,” Honeycrisp responded flatly.

Sundowner shifted uneasily. “Well… it did break, y’know. Ya can see the crack right there!”

Honeycrisp gave his nephew a long stare, and then stalked towards him, circling around the barrel.

Sundowner snatched up an empty packet from the dirt, stuffing it into his hat and then jamming the hat on his head. “It ain’t nothing!”

“Ya best tell me what ya done to it or I’m gonna go lookin’ for the answer in that empty head a yers,” Honeycrisp threatened.

Sundowner’s ears splayed back, and he scowled. “Fine,” he growled, taking his hat off and removing the packet, tossing it in the dirt at Honeycrisp’s hooves before jamming his hat back on. “I hope ya choke on it.”

Honeycrisp stared down at the wrapper, flipping it over with a hoof. A small logo and typed letters announced ‘GRANDMA JADE’S SUGAR 1lb’.

Snorting once, Honeycrisp picked up the cup from the side of the cart, and got himself a measure of the cider, tasting it curiously. He nodded thoughtfully after a moment, putting the cup back. “I see ya sweetened it.”

“Only cause of these tender-hoofed ponies what don’t know good cider from lolly-water,” Sundowner protested.

Honeycrisp reached for Sundowner, scooping the smaller stallion against his side and then ruffling his mane with a quick, rough brush of his hoof. “Yer a dumb sod, Sundowner,” he said fondly.

“And yer a giant empty-headed cowpony,” Sundowner protested, wriggling free and brushing his mane back with a hoof, pushing his hat back onto it. “Ya got the bits?”

“Right here.” Honeycrisp stamped a hindleg to make the coins in his saddlebag jingle.

“I really want some grape seeds while we’re here,” Sundowner said.

“Ya gonna make some wine?” Honeycrisp asked blankly.

“Naw, just gonna mix some of the grapes with my next brew and see how it goes,” Sundowner said with a confident nod.

“Yer gonna make some test barrels of wine and cider, ya stupid sod. If ya do something to the entire batch and screw it all up, yer’ll have us all starve for the year before we can sell some proper cider,” Honeycrisp explained flatly.

“I won’t screw it up!” Sundowner protested. “We sold this batch just fine and I added the passionfruit to it without y’all knowing!”

“Yeah, and if I’d known you done it I woulda drowned you in it,” Honeycrisp growled in response.

“Hence, I didn’t tell ya or mother ‘bout it because I have a healthy sense of self-preservation,” Sundowner replied smugly.

“Shut yer trap and go get your nancy grapes,” Honeycrisp said, digging out a hoofful of bits to pass to Sundowner.

Sundowner held out his hat for Honeycrisp to tip the bits into.

“And I best not find ya bailing up some cute little filly or I’ll be dragging ya home by the ear!” Honeycrisp called after Sundowner as the stallion bounded off down the street.

Sundowner returned not fifteen minutes later. He had a pair of grape seed packets clutched in a hoof, one green, one red. He paused though, as he caught sight of their cart, and the far-too-colourful mare in the pink glasses directing Honeycrisp ‘Gentle! Gentle!’ as the burly stallion tried to heft a large mechanical thingamajig into the back of the cart.

Frowning deeply, Sundowner slipped in under it, adding his own strength to the motions, pushing the heavy machine into the back of the cart.

“What ya doing?” Sundowner asked of his panting uncle.

“This is DJ Neon,” Honeycrisp said between soft panting. “And she’s gonna be staying in our barn til’ next week.”

Sundowner blanched. “What?”

“She’s gonna be staying in our barn,” Honeycrisp repeated, his tone growing flat. He leaned closer to Sundowner, saying under his breath, “And she’s paying out the nose for the privilege, too.”

“Ya sure ‘bout this?” Sundowner asked dubiously. “She don’t seem the type to enjoy being in a barn.”

“I am right here you know,” DJ Neon stated, eyes narrowing at Sundowner from behind her glasses. She made a motion with a hoof for them to hurry up.

Honeycrisp snorted once, before leaning in and whispering, “One. Thousand. Bits.”

Sundowner turned towards the mare, bowing humbly. “Apologies, madame, which bags were yours again?”