A Princess in the Night, Part 1
Canterlot. The City of the Eternal Sun, some called it. Others knew it as The City of Dreams. Still more referred to it as The Night’s Capital. The city had many names, each with multiple meanings of their own, but everypony could agree on one thing; the wonders of the city weren’t gone when Celestia went to bed and Luna arose. When the dark curtain of evening fell upon the city, and the street lamps began to dance with the happy motions of warm flames, many citizens were just putting on their coats to brave the whipping winter wind and enjoy the city’s lucrative nightlife.
This particular night was colder than usual. The very paving stones seemed to be frozen to their core as hooves clacked like picks on ice. Whether the few passing ponies were headed in or headed out mattered not; they were there, and created an atmosphere of activity. It was at this dead hour of the night, when few were out, that the princess liked to stretch her muscles and clear her mind.
Standing on the edge of her suite’s balcony, she took in a deep breath and, with a complacent smile, allowed herself to free fall. Her ear twitched as she thought she heard a mare’s voice cry out her name, but be it reality or imagination, it was lost in the rush of frozen wind surrounding her.
She spread her wings just as she neared the rooftop level of the castle’s surrounding buildings, and pulled out of her dive to glide through the cutting, icy air. Circling about the low buildings of homes, bars, and shops, she couldn’t help but look up at the sky. Despite the few lazy clouds floating carefree on the breeze, it was beautiful.
It always has been, she thought, as she pumped her wings, and it always shall be.
Though the moon was new, the twinkling sky lights were enough to see by, given the neon lights and street lamps from just below. The princess banked to her right, and flew towards Canterlot Falls. She sidled up beside the roaring waters, and skimmed the tip of her wing through the edge.
Cold, yet refreshing, she thought to herself, with a small hum of approval. Making a speedy, full flythrough of the falls emptied her mind of everything but the sheer feeling of the water, but tonight was not one to risk catching a cold.
Deciding to alight in the city’s main square, she floated in a descending spiral towards the ground. With just a few precise flaps of her royal wings, she softly landed with a quiet tip-tap of her unusually naked hooves, and brought her wings in close. The few ponies that were around to witness the event gave a quick bow, and went about her way.
A quick drink at the lounge would be wonderful, she thought, breaking into a slow trot towards a small alley off of the square. Past insignificant doors and rusty fire escapes she trotted, turning around several corners, and crossing a few somewhat busy streets. Finally she arrived at her destination; a small building that could only be recognized from afar by locals of the city. And even though it was Canterlot’s premier jazz lounge, it was only marked by a small, purple neon sign in the window that read THE MOONDANCE LOUNGE, and under this, the word OPEN.
The princess nudged the door open with a petite touch of lavender magic and stepped through, into one of her favorite Canterlot atmospheres. Slow, soft music played its way into her ears, and danced around before making room for the continuous flow of melody. The metronomic tiss of the drum brush combed the air with pinpoint accuracy, and the low hum of a saxophone combined with the high whine of a muted trumpet sent her heart vibrating with music. The voice of the stallion singing was like a river of silk, sliding over her entire body with velvety smoothness.
The bartender, noticing her entrance, gave her a respectful nod and beckoned her over. She accepted the invitation, and clip-clopped over to the barstool she usually took seat at. Most of the many ponies that were in this establishment knew she frequented the place, and therefore were not surprised at her presence. Moreover, she had told them, over a period of a few weeks of idle chit-chat, to not worry about formalities when she decided to drop in. In fact, many of them were friends of hers, now. There were still the drifters, though, who did a double-take when she stepped through that wooden portal.
“Princess Twilight, welcome back,” said the bartender in a deep, warm voice.
Twilight gave him a smile. “Thank you, Scotch,” she said. “I’ll take the usual, please.”
“Of course, ma’am.” Scotch, who was a homely, grey unicorn stallion wearing a white button-up and a black bowtie, turned to the shelf of liquor behind him. He reached up for the Spitfireball whisky, and set it on the bar. He expertly threw in three ice cubes, and poured the whisky until it covered the rocks. “Double shot of Spitfireball, on the rocks,” he said, sliding the glass over to the princess. Moving the bottle over on the bar a bit, he leaned forward and asked, “So what brings you out tonight, Madame?”
Twilight took back half the glass before daintily setting it back down on the glossy wooden bar. “Just clearing my head, as usual, Scotch. This whole ‘princess’ thing is still pretty new to me, even if I have been in the position for over two months.”
“And? What else?”
The princess giggled in her head. Only her bartender could address her so casually, it would seem. It was just as well; she really did prefer the relaxed atmosphere that The Moondance Lounge provided her. It was wonderful to get away from it all for a bit, even if it was only a few hours’ worth of an escape.
“And the usual,” she finally admitted.
At this moment, the band changed their tune, and the stallion’s voice sang out sweetly to the princess’ ears.
She swiveled to face the stage, a content smile on her face. Her hoof tapped lightly on the bar, keeping time with the song that lulled her into a comfortable, happy mood.
“Still got that on your mind, then?” Scotch said.
Twilight gave a hum of confirmation. She turned back to her bartender and finished the rest of her drink, and he reached to refill her glass.
“It never changes,” she said. “It’s always there, nagging at the back of my mind. It’s like a mosquito that you just can’t swat.”
“I understand.” The glass topped off, he replaced the bottle of whisky beside him on the bar. “When I was a younger lad, in my early twenties, I was fascinated by a mare here in Canterlot. Simply fascinated. She was a bit higher up on the social ladder, though. I never thought I stood a chance.”
Swirling her drink in her glass, Twilight shot him a look. “And? What did you do?”
Scotch chuckled. “One day, I finally went for it.”
“Were you successful?”
Scotch pointed to a small, golden band at the base of his horn.
With a smile, she said, “That must be some story.”
“Oh, it is, if but a long one. It didn’t come easily; I’ll tell you that much, ma’am. It took multiple tries to finally convince her to go out on a date with me. One date, ma’am.”
“Where did you go?”
“Your backyard,” he quipped.
“The castle gardens?”
“Oh yes, Madame. You have seen the many couples that frequent the place at night, have you not?”
Twilight smiled as memories of the past weeks floated through the smoky atmosphere of the cigar-laden establishment. Many sleepless nights had been spent on her balcony, looking up at the stars, or at said couples traipsing around the romantic castle gardens.
“I’ll take that dreamy smile of yours as a yes, Madame.”
Twilight giggled. “You don’t have to be so formal with me, Scotch. Please, just call me Twilight.” She took a sip of her drink and set it back on the bar. Closing her eyes for a minute, she lost herself in the sweet rhythms of the music being played.
“So, what are you planning to do?”
His voice snapped her trance.
“Nothing. What can I do? It’s an impossible situation, Scotch.”
He was the only one who knew of this ‘impossible situation.’ As a bartender at one of Caterlot’s most well-known and classy bars, he felt obligated to be sworn to secrecy of his more indulgent patrons. Twilight had first told him of her predicament a couple of weeks ago, when she had indulged a bit too much in her favorite drink. She wasn’t drunk, per se, but she had definitely been “feeling it,” as she put it.
“Nothing’s an impossible situation,” Scotch replied, picking up a glass from behind the bar. He began cleaning it with a pearly-white rag, wiping inside and out as he stared at the young princess. “I once thought of my situation like that, and what if I had always believed it? I wouldn’t be married today. Sometimes, Twilight, you just have to take a leap of faith.”
She took another sip as she considered this. The song at hoof slowly came to an end, and an upbeat tune charged its way into the audience.
“Mine is quite a large leap, though,” she finally said.
“Not as great as mine, I don’t believe.” He set the crystal glass down, and picked up another. “You are a princess, after all. I was just an average pony in a big, big city.”
Another moment of thoughtful silence, save the music drifting from across the room.
“You’re right, I suppose,” Twilight said. “But what of the consequences?”
“What of them?” Scotch noticed something to his right. “Hold on just a moment, ma’am.” He trotted down to the end of the bar, where a patron of the club was awaiting his service.
Twilight placed her head on one hoof, and closed her eyes again. What a crazy mess she was in, even if it was all in her head. For the moment, at least.
I’m a princess and I still can’t muster up the courage to let my feelings flow, she thought. Though, being a princess has nothing to do with it. I could be a goddess or a stranger, and I still wouldn’t be able to say it.
She opened her eyes and swiveled back towards the stage, taking another sip of her drink. The band was quite handsome, she decided. The lead stallion was in a nicely pressed tuxedo, with his blonde mane slicked back tight. He was quite famous in this city, playing the local jazz and swing clubs nightly. His deep, blue eyes did seem to sparkle like everypony raved about in the media.
Twilight found his supporting band was just as interesting as he was, too. His bassist was a gray mare, trimmed with a black mane and tail, and a purple treble clef as a cutie mark.
Somewhat ironic, Twilight thought, noticing the difference in her cutie mark and her instrument. She’s probably just good on all instruments. Octavia, I think her name is. She’s in the news a lot, too.
The percussionist was a blonde stallion sporting a tight, neat manestyle that was blue and silver, while the trumpeter was a dark brown mare accompanied by the light green saxophonist stallion. Both of them had white manes.
What simple, fun lives they probably live, she thought. Music by night, and who knows what by day.
She continued her admiration of the orchestra until she heard the clop of hooves on the bar behind her, signaling Scotch’s return.
“They’re especially good tonight,” he commented. “They’re always good, but it’s like tonight is some grand event.”
Without turning around, Twilight replied, “Yes, I’ve noticed that, as well. It’s like they’re on a mission of some sort. What was the ensemble’s name, again?”
“Booker Swing and the Nighttime Band. Kind of rolls off the tongue, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yeah.”
Scotch watched the band with Twilight, knowing full well that she would speak when she wanted to. After a moment, he picked up another glass and began cleaning it.
Twilight, meanwhile, was lost in thought as she watched Booker work his audience like an artist paints his canvas. He was simply marvelous, as her fashionista friend would have put it. She turned back around to discover Scotch looking at her, with a brow raised.
“What?” Twilight asked. “Did I spill?”
He chuckled. “No, ma’am. You never answered my question. What of the consequences?”
“I mean, what if-“ She looked to her drink for answers. Finding none, she swirled it, and took another sip. “What if the consequences are huge? It could go public, it could be humiliation, I could lose all credibility as a-“
Scotch held up a hoof. “Stop right there. Just stop.”
Twilight just looked at him, mouth still open.
“To my knowledge, only two ponies even know about this, right?”
“Only two ponies, yes. My assistant, Spike, knows as well.”
Scotch rolled his eyes. “Well I’m sure he’ll keep it to himself. He’s been with you since he was born, if what you told me is right.”
Twilight nodded.
“So, like I said, only you and I know. So, why would anypony else? Why would anypony else even need to know? Just ask them. You and them, alone, and ask. Or at least make your feelings known. Am I right?”
Again, Twilight nodded. Then she grinned, and stabbed a hoof towards Scotch in short, jerky motions.
“That’s much easier said than done though, sir.”
“That it is, Madame. That’s what proves if it’s worth it, though. Mustering up the courage to actually do it is more than half the battle.”
At this moment, the melody that Booker and his band were rolling through came to an end. His singsong voice drifted over to the two at the bar.
“Fillies and gentlecolts, thank you so much for your time and attention tonight! If you all don’t mind, my band and I are going to take a quick respite. We’ll be back in just a few to continue serenading all of you ponies with the smooth tunes of love.”
He and his band exited the stage to the clip-clop of many hooves, and made their way to their designated table. A song faded in over the club’s speakers, and the atmosphere kept right on along.
Twilight noticed that Booker wasn’t headed towards the table with his band. Instead, he seemed to be coming right for her. He sidled up to the stool right next to her, and raised his hoof for Scotch’s attention.
“Gentleman’s Colt, please, straight and on the rocks.”
“Coming right up, sir,” Scotch said, with a smile. “Great job up there, by the way.”
“Thank you very much!” Booker said, in that flowing tone of his. “Mister?”
“Scotch, sir. And you are Mister Booker, I presume?”
“Correct, sir. Thank you,” he replied, as Scotch set his drink in front of him.
“Your music is wonderful tonight,” Twilight said, with a smile. “It’s always wonderful, of course, but tonight seems to be something special.”
Booker jumped a bit. He turned to Twilight, and his eyes became like the full moon.
“Oh, Princess Twilight!” He bowed his head. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!”
Twilight stifled her laugh with a hoof. “Oh stop it, Mister Booker. No formality is required here, I just come in now and then to get away from it all for a bit.”
“Yes, your majesty,” he said, raising his head with a goofy smile.
“No, no! None of that! Please, call me Twilight!”
He seemed confused. “Are you sure?”
Twilight gave him a curt nod. “Absolutely.”
“If-if you say so, Twilight,” he said, still looking uneasy.
Scotch couldn’t help but laugh at the whole scene. Occasionally this did occur when the princess came in, but to see such a smooth professional like Booker stumble was too much for him. The laugh was infectious, as Twilight and Booker joined in.
“So, Booker,” Twilight said, smiling, “is there anything special tonight that calls for the wondrous music you’re singing for all of us?”
Booker sipped his drink. “Well, not particularly, ma’am. Sometimes, a pony just gets this feeling, and pours it all into his work, you know?”
Twilight hummed, turning to her attention to the ceiling and back. “Absolutely. I do it all the time. I can definitely say that I’m glad you got the feeling tonight.”
Scotch took this time to attend to a few of the other customers at the bar.
“Well thank you kindly, Twilight,” Booker said. He readjusted himself atop his seat. “If I may ask, what brings you to a rinky-dink shindig club like this tonight?”
Twilight couldn’t help but giggle at his joke. “How dare you, sir!” she said, batting a hoof at him. “This is a fine establishment!”
He flashed her a toothy grin. “I know, I know, ma’am. I’m just making fun, is all.”
“And doing a fine job of it, sir!” She took another sip of her drink. “But if you must know, I’m just out to clear my head. I come here often for that reason, though many times I come just to enjoy a great atmosphere with good friends.”
“So you’re a regular then?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied proudly.
“Hm. I haven’t seen you here before.” He sipped his drink again.
Twilight raised her brow, and leaned towards him slightly. “Then I guess you haven’t come on the right nights!”
He smiled. “I guess not. So tell me, Twilight, what does a princess like yourself need to clear your head of? Seems to me like you’d have all that taken care of up at the castle, no? No offense, of course.”
“None taken, Booker. Though you might think that, the castle can get quite stressful. It’s always bustling with ponies going this way or that, and I’m always on my way to some meeting or another. It’s good to get away and just think, for once.”
“Well, I suppose that does make sense. But what specifically are you trying to get away from? You’re dodging the question, ma’am.” He said this with a hint of jest, just playful enough to not come off as rude.
“Oh, you’re good,” Twilight said. “Much more attentive than I would have thought.”
“Well I am talking to a princess,” Booker replied, shrugging his shoulders.
Twilight took another sip of her drink. “I’ll give you credit, Booker. Not many ponies are as upfront and straightforward as you are, at first. I usually have to swat the formalities away for hours before they feel comfortable enough to act like I’m just another pony.”
“Like you said, I’m more attentive than you thought. You said no formalities, and that’s exactly what I’m giving you. I’m treating you like a member of my band.”
Twilight smiled. “Thank you. They really are a lovely bunch.”
“You should try living with them.” He laughed. “I’m only joking, they’re great. I couldn’t do what I do without them, really.”
Twilight smiled softly. “I’m sure they feel the same way.”
Booker stared at his glass, and then decided to down it. Scotch was there in an instant, refilling it with the bourbon that was the singer’s favorite. As quickly as he had come to serve Booker, Scotch was off again, chatting with another pony as he refilled their glass.
“He’s the best bartender in this city,” Booker said. “I would know. I’ve been to some dumps around here.”
Twilight remained silent, sipping her drink in thought. The two ponies remained this way, lost in their own minds for the better part of a couple of minutes. Finally, Twilight spoke up.
“It’s a pony,” she said. “I’m trying to clear my mind of a certain somepony.”
Booker continued staring at the wall of liquor, all lit up on their glass shelves. He smiled, and turned toward the lavender princess.
“I knew it,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“Y-you did?” Twilight was caught off guard. “How did you know?”
“Twilight,” he said, sipping his bourbon, “my job is to know ponies. To be able to read a crowd and know what they want to hear. You were wondering what was so special about tonight, that’s made my music so captivating? You walked in, and I noticed right away what you wanted, what you needed to hear.”
She raised a brow. “I thought you said you didn’t see me here?”
He laughed. “Just a stage act to start up a conversation, ma’am.”
“So a lie,” she said, disapprovingly.
“Not quite,” he quipped. “I said I didn’t see you there. As in at your bar seat, and I didn’t. I came to get my drink, and I was going to find you afterwards. But I did lie when I said I’ve never seen you here before. I have, but I’ve not had a chance to talk to you until now.”
Twilight was now very impressed with Mister Booker. He knew much more than he originally let on, and she was pleasantly surprised at his conversational abilities.
“Go on, Mister Booker. What else do you know about what’s on my mind?”
He shrugged and took another sip of his drink. “Now that, I couldn’t tell you. All I know is that you have somepony on your mind, and you needed to hear some smooth, sexy swing to help you come to a decision about what to do.”
“What to do about what?”
“About your predicament.”
“So you do know more.”
“I didn’t say that.”
”Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I could guess.”
“Well go on then.” Twilight motioned with a hoof. “I’d like to hear how well you really do know ponies.”
He flashed her another handsome grin. “You asked for it, ma’am. You like somepony, but don’t want to admit it. Or, perhaps more accurately, don’t know how to admit it. You want to tell them, but aren’t sure how. So instead of trying to confront this conundrum, you’re trying to put it all aside and have fun tonight.”
Twilight simply stared.
Booker gave her a sarcastic look. “Was I at least close?”
“Dead on,” Twilight replied, taking a bit more than a sip of her drink. Her glass was getting a bit low.
“You asked for it,” he said again.
“I’m impressed, Mister Booker. I’ve not met a pony who can read so much about another in so little time.”
He shrugged. “It’s always been kind of my special talent.”
“That isn’t singing?” she cocked her head.
“I’m not a one trick pony, Miss Twilight!”
“I suppose not.”
They sat in silence, Twilight simply looking at this pony that so easily saw right through all of her expressions. She had a question for him though, one that he hopefully could answer.
“So what should I do? How do I go about solving my little issue, Booker?”
He huffed. “Now that, my dear princess, is not something I can answer. Only you can.”
“Well do you at least have some advice?”
Booker scratched his chin. “Yeah, actually. Follow your gut. It always knows what’s right, so listen to it. It’ll guide you in the right direction.”
The princess thought about those words. So simple, yet so hard to actually follow through with. Her gut told her to rush up to this pony, confess her feelings, and then hope for the best. But her mind just wouldn’t let her do it.
“I’ll try,” she said. “But I can’t make any promises.”
“I wasn’t asking for any,” he shot back.
Twilight seemed to contemplate this as she tuned her attention to the track that was now playing throughout the lounge. She looked into her drink, and seeing it looking so low and lonely, decided to drain it. Scotch, of course, was right over to fill it back up with ice and whisky.
“Enjoying your conversation?” he casually asked.
“You wouldn’t even know the half of it,” Twilight responded, watching the cinnamon liquid splash across the ice cubes.
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Booker said. “’Ole Scotch and I have gone a round or two in the verbal boxing ring.”
“Is that so?” Twilight inquired, swirling her now full glass.
“You wouldn’t even know the half of it,” Scotch said, lightheartedly.
Twilight sat in silent thought, staring at her drink again, wondering what she should do. Booker must have sensed something because it was at that time that he decided to surprise Twilight with a request.
“Hey, Princess,” he said. “I’ve gotta question.”
She looked up, and into his steely blue eyes. “Yes?”
“How would you like to sing the next number?”
She shook her head. Had she heard him right? Booker Swing was asking her to sing with him? There was no way.
“I’m sorry? Could you say that again?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to sing our next song with me.”
“I-I would…yes! Yes, I would love to!”
He smiled, and removed himself from his seat. “Well, I’ll come get you when we’re about to go back on. In the meantime, though,” he glanced towards his table, “I think the band wants to chit-chat. I’ll see you in just a minute, princess.”
And with that, he gave a quick bow, and retreated to the members of his band.
“Quite a trip, isn’t he?” Scotch asked.
“You could say that again.”
“I figured he’d do you some good, ma’am.”
“How did you know we’d even hit it off?”
“I didn’t. I just let things go as they do. Did he help you at all?”
Twilight rested her chin on her hoof. “I’m not sure yet, Scotch. I guess it’s all to be seen in time. Hopefully a short amount of time.”
Twilight and Scotch shared idle small talk for several minutes, trading stories from their day back and forth. After Twilight would tell of something silly that somepony asked of her in court, Scotch would fire back with some sort of scene that played out in the bar earlier. The princess truly did love her relationship with The Moondance Lounge. Scotch was a wonderful pony, and on the few occasions she had met his wife, they had all gotten along incredibly well. Of course, Twilight hadn’t known the nature of how Scotch and his wife had gotten together until earlier this evening, and she had made a mental note to ask her about it next time they were both in.
Suddenly, Twilight’s ears perked up and twitched. She heard the clacking of hooves coming her way, but they didn’t belong to Booker. Turning to her right, she saw a deep, midnight blue unicorn mare slide into the previously unoccupied seat.
Scotch moved just a bit, so as to be situated between Twilight and the newcomer. “Welcome back, Miss Evening Star. What can I get for you tonight?”
“The usual, please,” she said in an almost sultry feminine voice. She then looked towards Twilight, who accidentally caught herself staring.
“Oh, I-I’m sorry, ma’am. I wasn’t meaning to stare.”
“It’s quite alright, Princess Twilight,” the mare said, with a small bow of her head.
“Please, call me Twilight. I’m a regular here.”
“It’s my pleasure, Twilight. As I’m sure you heard Scotch say, my name is Evening Star. You can call me Star.”
Twilight smiled. “Are you a regular, too?”
“I am.”
“Huh. I thought I knew almost all the regulars.”
“Oh, there are a lot of them,” Scotch said, as he placed a glass in front of Evening Star and poured a double-shot of Lunazul Blanco tequila on the rocks. “Miss Star here comes in many times on the nights you aren’t in.”
Evening Star giggled as she took back the first sip, relaxing into a more comfortable position with a smile on her face. “It would seem, then, that we just have opposite schedules, dear Twilight.”
“I suppose so,” Twilight agreed with a nod. She sipped on her Spitfireball, enjoying the burning sensation it placed upon her tongue.
“So what brings you out tonight, Twilight?” Evening Star asked, leaning against the bar as she swiveled to face her conversational partner.
Twilight smiled as she was asked this question again. “Just trying to clear my mind and decide what to do,” she stated, simply.
“What a coincidence,” Star said. “That’s exactly what I’m doing out tonight.”
“You don’t say?” Twilight asked, cocking her head.
At this moment, Scotch let out a quiet chuckle as he took his leave of the pair.
He knows something, Twilight thought, tracking his movement with her eyes. He always knows something. She turned back to Evening Star.
“I do, dear. I do. This is one of my favorite spots to come whenever I just need to…get away from it all.”
Twilight’s eyes lit up. “Really? Me too!”
“Ah, is that so?” Evening Star rested her head against her hoof. “What are you escaping from, Princess?”
“Just princess stuff,” Twilight said with a shrug.
Star rolled her eyes. “Now don’t tell me that, Twilight. You can get away from ‘princess stuff’ in the castle, can’t you? No, you’re here for something else.”
Twilight’s lavender cheeks turned red. It seemed she was meeting all the ponies who could see through her guise tonight.
“Well, yes. There is something else; though it isn’t something I’d prefer to spread around. No need to let all the ponies in the media catch hold of something like that.”
Before she could say anything else, Booker trotted up to the chatting pair. He turned to Evening Star first.
“Excuse me, Madame, but do you mind if I steal your friend for a minute?”
“Go right ahead, Mister Booker. I’ll be here when she gets back.”
He nodded his appreciation, and turned to Twilight. “Twilight? Are you ready to sing with us?”
She blushed again. “I am. Do I get to pick the song?”
Booker laughed. “You do if we know it! But chances are that we do. Which one were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking about Fly Me to the Moon.”
Booker’s brow rose, and a knowing smile crossed his lips. “Yeah, we know that one. Quite well, actually. Come on, my dear. Let’s get you set up!”
Twilight removed herself from the bar, and just happened to catch the look on Evening Star’s face as she turned away. It was one of slight shock and admiration. She’s probably just surprised I know the song, she thought, as she made her way to the stage.
The rest of the band was just getting set back up. Booker spoke up as he approached with Twilight.
“Listen up, mares and colts! Our fair princess has a song picked out, and it’s one we haven’t played in a spell! Twilight, my dear!” He turned to her now. “Why don’t you tell them what song it is?”
“Fly Me to the Moon,” she said, matter-of-factly. She got looks of approval from all around, as each of the band members took their seats in turn.
“Alright,” Booker said to Twilight, “I’m going to introduce you, then come on up on stage, and we’ll lead you in! Sound good?”
Twilight nodded. That was Booker’s cue, and as he got back up in the spotlight, the music coming from the speakers faded away into silence.
“Fillies and gentlecolts!” he announced, happy as ever. “Me and the band are back from our little drink break, how’s everypony doing?” He got a round of applause from the beaming crowd. “Good! I’m glad, because we’ve got a special guest up here on stage with us tonight! Singing Fly Me to the Moon, give it up for our very own Princess Twilight Sparkle!”
A wave of clip-clopping and loud whistles rushed into Twilight’s ears, as patrons of the lounge showed her their approval. She took Booker’s hoof up on stage, and he made a show of kissing her hoof before gesturing towards the microphone. As she stood there, in front of the crowd, she realized how hot the spotlights were.
The band began to play. The bassist plucked her strings, as the percussionist used the drum brush to lead her in. She knew when to start, and closed her eyes.
She began singing the fast paced tune, and as she entered into the song, her mind took her on a timeless flight into Luna's night sky. She lost herself in her own musical trance, seeing her hooves tap down on stars, only to quickly launch off again. Although her wings were spread and she was flying, no air ruffled her feathers. She found herself leaping across the beautiful, barren landscape that was the moon, dancing over craters and somersaulting over mountaintops.
It was at her first break in the song that she opened her eyes, and happened to make direct eye contact with Evening Star.
Evening Star smiled at her, and Twilight returned it. She was having fun up on stage, something she hadn’t ever quite experienced. She also noticed that the crowd was captivated by her. Whether that was due to her singing or her position within the state, she knew not. But she opted to believe it was the former.
Twilight broke into the second verse, and was once again swimming in the black sea above the world, wading through nebulas and kissing a thousands suns with her hooves. Although the verse was short in real time, the princess felt as though she were floating in space for an eternity. Suddenly, though, it was torn back away as she finished the verse.
She broke her singing now to let the band do their thing. She swayed while they played, and looked around the club. There were ponies tapping their hooves along to the beat, and others leaning in close to their partners.
Oh, how I long for that, she thought.
The band led her back into her part once again, and almost as soon as the song started it was over. The audience was applauding her with fervor, as Booker came back up to the microphone.
“Fillies and gentlecolts—Princess Twilight Sparkle!”
The applause became louder as she made her way back to her place, though once she sat, the applause died down. Booker regained their attention for his next number.
Twilight turned to speak to Evening Star again, but right as she was opening her mouth, she realized that the pony had up and left. Confused, she looked towards Scotch.
“She left as soon as your song was over,” he shrugged. “Wonderful job, by the way, Madame.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Scotch.”
Still wondering where her new drinking partner had gotten off to, she sipped her drink.
I wonder why she left?
