Till You Can't Dance No More
“Ticket, miss?” Pinkie Pie fished a ticket out of her mane with a hoof and handed it to the bouncer whose brow leveled once the ticket was placed in his hoof. Wordlessly, he unhooked the red velvet rope and ushered the pink mare inside.
Pinkie could feel the bass from the speakers before she was even inside the building, the reverberations seeming to grow louder and more aggressive with each stair she scaled. She pushed open the heavy black door with a strange sort of calming excitement tingling the ends of her hooves and tail, and once the door was out of the way and she was in clear view of the belly of The Lucky Clover, she felt her heart skip multiple times as though it were doing its best to dance along to the music.
Pinkie traced a line straight to the bar and practically jumped into her seat as the bartender flashed her a knowing, friendly smirk.
“The usual, Pinks?” Pinkie nodded enthusiastically, bouncing in her seat as she waited for what she knew would loosen her up and bring out the dancer itching to be let loose. It seemed like forever before a fizzing glass of blue liquid that looked as though it was physically sparking was slid in front of her. She downed the shot without so much as a breath to spare, already feeling the practically electric liquid stimulating the muscles in her legs.
Another glass quickly followed the first and Pinkie downed this one just as fast, slamming a hoofful of bits on the table, before leaping out of her chair and stalking towards the dance floor. She could really feel the pounding in her legs now, each one tense and filled with energy that was ready to burst on command like a tightly coiled spring.
Once she was squarely in the middle of the floor and felt thoroughly surrounded by nameless faces and gyrating bodies, she began to let loose. A few hard, fast twists and spins to start with, followed by a backflip and a clean shuffling of hooves that would have made the most seasoned of dancers envious. From there, it escalated to a risque shaking of the hips and more graceful, eloquent spins, which quickly evolved into full-on breakdancing.
By then, Pinkie had become somewhat of a spectacle; nearly everypony on the dance floor had formed a circle and were simply watching as Pinkie let all of the frustration, anger and loneliness bleed out of her in the form of the most captivating routine any pony there had ever seen. Eventually, all the ponies on the dance floor began to cheer and stomp their hooves as they watched the mysterious mare flit around the dance floor as if she had been born to do just that.
The raucous noise of cheering, the blaring of music and even the pounding of the bass had faded from Pinkie’s mind and coalesced together into a dull thud in the back of her mind as she continued to move with the flow of the music until she had practically sublimated into a liquid. However, even somepony as focused and in-tune with both the beating of their own heart and the rhythmic thud reverberating from the bass could not be infallible on their hooves, and one misstep later she found herself thrown back into reality and thrown off balance. Luckily, the quick reflexes of a stranger were there to break her fall and somewhat preserve her immersion.
“Woah, careful there.” The first thing Pinkie noticed was how strong and sturdy the hooves holding her inches from the floor seemed; the second was how comfortable this stallion seemed on his hooves as he deftly spun her back to a standing position while he himself swayed to the music.
“Thanks,” Pinkie panted, brushing a lock of her once semi-presentable mane from her eyes.
“Don’t mention it,” the stallion smiled, moving to the music even as he spoke. Pinkie simply stood there, seemingly hypnotized by the way his body moved with the music. The stranger took it upon himself to continue the conversation.
“The name’s Soarin, by the way.” Pinkie blushed and stuttered stupidly as the surprisingly charming stallion shuffled around her. “I liked your moves out there. You’re a natural.”
“Thanks,” Pinkie grinned. “You’re not so bad, yourself.” The blue pegasus sauntered up to her and offered her a hoof.
“Whaddya say? Wanna dance?” Pinkie’s grin grew into a smile that encompassed her whole face.
“Sure.” With that, Pinkie took the hoof offered to her and was thrust into the most fun and intense dance of her life.
Pinkie hadn’t been lying when she had said that Soarin seemed like a natural born dancer, and as they both slithered around each other like two pieces of the same puzzle, she knew that this was somepony who had the same sort of wild, unpredictable energy that she herself possessed.
He seemed to be a perfect fit for her. When she moved, he moved. When she twirled, he would match it with just as much flare and style as she had used, with the addition of a sort of brio that made her shiver with excitement that she hadn’t felt in a long while.
“Do you do this kind of thing a lot?” Pinkie asked as they eventually came face to face with one another.
“What, you mean dance? Yeah, it’s actually a great way to relieve stress.”
“Tell me about it,” Pinkie drawled.
“Is that why you’re here tonight?”
“Yeah,” Pinkie said as she twirled gracefully on the tips of her hooves. “Stallions can be such jerks sometimes.”
“Should I take offense to that?” Soarin laughed.
“Only if you want to,” Pinkie answered cavalierly, the question not breaking her momentum in the slightest.
“Fair enough,” Soarin shrugged as their routine continued.
If Pinkie by herself was a spectacle, then the two of them together was nothing short of breathtaking. When they were out there together, they looked like two sides of the same coin, a figurative yin and yang moving as one. The cheering and hoof stomping started up again. This time, it was loud enough that it even overpowered the voluminous music from the speakers.
They continued to captivate the audience that they’d garnered with their moves for the better part of twenty minutes before both Soarin and Pinkie Pie grew tired and sweaty from their vigorous dancing. Soarin was the first to bow out, falling to his rump and diminishing to a heaving, breathless lump. Pinkie followed suit not ten seconds later.
“That was so much fun,” Pinkie huffed.
“Heck yeah, it was,” Soarin chuckled. “Do you mind if I buy you a drink?”
“As long as you’re offering.” Pinkie smiled back as the two exited the dance floor and the circle that was made for them closed up as the ponies that had been watching so with such fascination went back to dancing on their own. Soarin and Pinkie swerved their way through the ponies filing back to the dance floor and made their way over to the bar.
“Where’d you learn to dance like that?” Soarin asked after flagging down the bartender.
“Eh, I come here a lot,” Pinkie shrugged.
“Bad luck with the stallions?” Soarin queried, with an awkward sort of half smirk. The bartender came trotting over and Soarin ordered them both a couple shots of the same stuff that Pinkie had ordered upon arriving earlier.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Pinkie confirmed as she swirled her third shot of the night around in her glass.
“Yeah, I know how that goes,” Soarin chuckled wryly.
“With stallions?” Pinkie’s brow arched. Soarin laughed.
“Sometimes.”
“Hey,” Pinkie started as she swallowed down shot number three. “I don’t judge”
“Don’t worry,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. “I know my way around a pretty mare, too.” Soarin leaned in and for the first time since she’d met the stallion, Pinkie felt uncomfortable about how close he was to her.
“You sure seem like it,” Pinkie smiled uncomfortably, trying in vain to abate some of what she knew was coming. Soarin seemed to pick up on her discomfort and a frown replaced the smirk that once graced his features.
“Sorry,” Soarin sighed. “I didn’t mean to come on that strong. It’s just, I think we really get along great together, don’t you?” Soarin chanced a glance at Pinkie Pie, who was sort of half smiling, half frowning.
“Sorry, I just came here tonight to blow off some steam, y’know?”
“You know, there are just as effective ways to blow off steam,” Soarin informed slyly. The frown on Pinkie’s face pulled the rest of her face down with it as it sank. The wink in the stallion’s voice told her exactly what direction the conversation was heading.
“I can’t do this tonight, I’m sorry. Thank you for the drink.” And with that, Pinkie stood up and made her way toward the roof access door.
“Wait,” Soarin called as he clumsily fished a hoofful of bits down on the countertop before downing his shot and getting up to go after her. By the time he’d made it up the stairs and heaved the large metal door aside, Pinkie Pie was standing on the edge of the roof, looking somberly down at the streets of Ponyville.
“Hey, c’mon. I said I was sorry. If you really don’t want to do anything tonight, that’s totally cool with me.” Pinkie turned to look at him, but the look she was giving him didn’t serve to lighten the situation. All at once, the pink mare’s shoulders sagged and she let a harsh breath escape her heaving chest.
“Sorry,” Pinkie sniffled. “It’s just...I’ve been hurt so many times now.” Soarin came to stand beside her in solidarity, his face taking on the same sort of solemn reverie that the mare next to him wore.
“I was being serious when I said I understood, and when I said I think we get along pretty well. I’ve had my fair share of bogus dates and rocky relationships, so I know how you’re feeling right now.” Pinkie turned to look at him and noticed that he had a certain look in his eyes that told Pinkie that he was being completely sincere. Soarin turned to face her as well. Those soft, understanding eyes seemed to chip away at Pinkie the longer he stared.
“Look, I’m not asking for sex or a relationship or anything like that right now. Just a dance. Does that sound good to you?” Pinkie felt a smile from both her face and her heart as he once again extended a hoof in her direction.
“Yeah, that sounds perfect.”
