Anarchy in the Equestrian Nation

I awoke to the hellish noise of a telephone going off directly under my ear. I picked it up and groggily asked "Hello? Who is it?"

"Hey, is Union Jack there?" asked an undoubtedly female voice.

"Speaking." I replied.

"It's Rainbow Dash. I made my decision." she started.

My mind raced. What is it? What if it's a no? What if it's a yes? WHAT DO I SAY?

"You can date her. But so help me if you break her heart I will lift you higher than Cloudsdale and drop you."

"Understood. But why are you calling at 4 AM?" I asked.

"Goodbye." I heard a click from the other end of the line, and hung up the phone, laying back down to sleep.

About five hours later, Clockwork woke me up. "Why'd you sleep on the couch? You could've come up back to the room anytime. We have a phone in there too, remember?"

"I just needed some time alone, that was all." I said as I got up, taking time to slip my mask on and sling my bass over my back. I had grown accustomed to feeling its weight, even if there was no reason for me to carry it around. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to work. See you around seven."

The whole town was blanketed in white, and it was still snowing. I had grown used to cold weather, mostly from living in La Cienaga, where it rained almost every day, and was usually quite chilly. As such, I often didn't need a coat or a scarf. Today was no exception. I was almost to the music shop when I heard something land in the snow behind me. I turned around and saw Clockwork. He never really spent time with me outside of when I was off work, so this was quite unusual. "Clock? What're you doing here?" I asked.

"I figured I'd drop by the music shop and see if I wanted anything." he replied. "Plus, I'd like to see Turntable again."

"I see. Well, here we are." I pointed to the recently renamed Six-String's Records And Instruments. "Home of the only pegasus guitarist I know of, as well as being the best music shop in town."

When he and I walked in, Clockwork's eyes widened.

"I have never seen so much music in one place before. What in all do you have in terms of music type?"

"Well," I began, "We have rock, techno, ska, classical, jazz, blues, the list goes on. Plus we have instruments. Turntables, guitars, brass, percussion..."

After I rattled off a laundry list of instruments, Clockwork stopped me. "Whoa, is that him?" he asked as Six-String descended the stairs from his loft, carrying an electric guitar under his wing.

"Yep, that's him. The only pegasus guitarist in Equestria. Six-String." I replied proudly. "And one of the greatest rock musicians I know."

"How does he play? I mean, aren't guitars meant for unicorns?" Clockwork asked, his face in a puzzled expression.

"Good thing you asked." Six-String began. "You see, I never liked flying, being afraid of heights. So, instead of training my wings for strength, I trained them for dexterity, to act as prehensile tools rather than a means of motion. I picked up quick. My dad died in a cart accident when I was about ten years old. All he left for my brother, my mother, and I was an old acoustic. All three of us were pegasi, so I thought there would never be any use for it. That is, until my hour of greatest need. I was fifteen, a blank flank, couldn't fly, and had just been broken up with by a filly I thought I loved. I was on the verge of offing myself. I was digging around in my closet for a belt, and hit upon the acoustic. I gave it a try, and lo and behold, my cutie mark made itself apparent through an accident. By using my wings the same way a unicorn would use their magic to play guitars, I became Equestria's first pegasus guitarist. Or, in short terms, I use my wings to play."

Clockwork smiled. "I enjoyed the story. It's always great to hear about somepony who overcame the odds."

I made my way to the box of records that had just been shipped, the ones I was supposed to be unpacking and organizing on the racks. Six-String's story had distracted me, and as he played for Clockwork, I heard the front door chime. I rushed there, already knowing who it was.

"Union Jack! Hey!" cried Manga happily, wrapping me in a warm, friendly hug. Apparently, I was wrong about who had shown up at the door. "Haven't seen you in a while. So this is the music shop, huh?" he asked, intrigued at the huge number of records which spanned our walls and racks. He turned to Six-String. "Got any J-Rock?"

Silversix glanced up from playing to nod hello. "So you're one of the famed Outcasts. Union Jack and Turntable have told me all about you guys." He paused, then added "Did you try the section labeled 'J-Rock'?", gesturing with his forehoof to a small rack.

"Thanks." replied Manga, before trotting over to the stand. "Hmmm... Most of this I already have, but there's a few here I haven't heard of, and a good number of those I've been meaning to get." he mumbled as he scanned over the records with an inquisitive eye.

The door chimed again, and I turned to see the remainder of the Outcasts making their way through the door. "Surprise, bro,  I arranged for all the Outcasts to show up to help you recover after the whole Black Bell incident." Turntable said.

I froze, my hooves planting themselves firmly onto the ground, my eyes wide.

"Umm, guys, I don't need comforting anymore. I found somepony else. Now will you please let me get back to work? I have records to sort." I mumbled, turning towards the back.

Of course, then came the onslaught of questions.