Face the Music

After that little bout of awkwardness with Octavia, she had simply left without another word, seeming to sense your discomfort, turning around and heading, black hair and tail swishing in the wind, back where she had come from. Waiting until Octavia disappeared over the horizon, you finally eyed the ticket-like blue pass in your hand. It had a picture of the face of every dubstep artist attending in a circle, with maybe twenty in total. But your eyes, obviously, only looked at one of them.
Moving back to Ponyville with a light run, you stuffed the little thing in your pocket.

Not too far from the outskirts of Ponyville was a building that seemed to live. The vibrations from the music inside made it swell up and seem to breathe like a real living being. It was an interesting place - the place you finally stood at the entrance to, a half-hour later. The building looked like a big black rectangle with spirals of light in different colors going up it every few minutes - a neon building. A white pegasus with short, wavy black hair off to one side stood at the entrance, wearing a green beanie and having two headphones stuffed in his ears, as he headbanged lightly. The pegasus opened his blue eyes a bit, scanning the ticket you presented for half a moment. Then he moved aside, at which point you hurried in.

Obviously, this was The Haymakers, the DJ facility you hoped Vinyl Scratch would still be at. The inside was pretty dark - but not because of lack of light. In fact, there were lots of strobe lights flashing in different colors, each a dark shade of the primaries. There was also a legion of ponies of all sorts of races and colors, each doing their own little bits of dance-and-headbang combos. The walls and floors were colored black, further adding to the sense of darkness, and the only differently-colored bit was the stage, which was pure white. Of course, this was so it would attract attention amidst all the dark.
The pony onstage right now was a grey unicorn with silver highlights in her brown hair, and she seemed to be doing some sort of slow song, though the loudness still bit into your ears. But, she appeared to be finishing up her song. So you waited eagerly until the crowd had stopped clapping, then they began calling out for a new DJ.

But you were disappointed at the newcomer, so you turned away and went to look for a drink or something to tide you over until the show was over or until you saw Vinyl Scratch. The new DJ was just some black mare with a red-and-orange mohawk. It looked odd on her, but other than that, there weren't any remarkable features. You noticed a small little bar in the corner, sorta far from the actual music, which now shifted into light dubstep. Scooting over there, through sweaty pony bodies, you asked a pink pony with green hair for a menu. She looked at you for a few seconds, eyes out of focus, smiling brightly for no reason. You asked again, and this time she shuffled drunkenly into a little entrance behind the bar counter that you hadn't seen. Soon, you hear lots of crashing and the sounds of stuff breaking, making you wince, but nobody else seems to mind. The pink pony comes back after a bit and places a big mug of some brown liquid in front of you. Before you can tell her that you just asked for the menu, she passes out.

Tasted like root beer. The drink, that is. Your ears began to perk up, though. The music began to die down again as another DJ was called out by the crowd, but .. this time, it seemed like more of a thrilled call than the one for the mohawk pony. You turned around in your seat and gulped the last of the liquid down, then set the glass on top of the counter, hearing the loud snores of the server from behind it. You wait patiently as the strobes all turn a different color of blue. Your eyes were on the stage - swathed in flickering blue lights.