Part-Time Seduction

Octavia Melody closed her cello case with a snap and brushed her bow's resin dust off her last good dress. She really did need to get some washing done, but the laundromat cost cash which could be spent on food, or tuition. She cringed internally at the thought.

"'ere ya go, Octavia." A burly man with a saxophone on his back tapped Octavia on the shoulder and dropped a modest wad of bills onto her instrument case. "Your cut."

Octavia looked at the bills indignantly. "Thirty bucks? Are you serious, Neon? You know my dad cut me off: I've got bills to pay."

Neon raised his hands defensively. "Hey, we've got our own problems to deal with." He gestured at the bar. "Owner said he'd stand us a drink if we wanted one though. The rest of us are taking it to go; got places to be. You want I should get you a can too?"

Octavia sighed. "No, I'll stay. You might have places to be but I certainly don't."

Neon raised his hands again as if to divest himself of responsibility. "Ok then, see you for practice this weekend then."

"Yes, see you there." Octavia waved him off distractedly and wondered if she could convince her landlord for the third time that she'd have his rent by the end of the week. She wasn't a heavy drinker, but it was becoming a more and more attractive career path. Hefting her cello over one shoulder, she walked tiredly over to the bar and sat herself down on a stool.

The club wasn't a bad place really; she and the rest of the band had had gigs here before, even if she had to admit that they'd always seemed to pay more when she hadn't needed the money. A fight with her dad the previous month (something about how a unicorn could have played the cello well enough not to need to pay for tuition) had cut off her family's payments to the Royal Canterlot College of Music, and ever since she'd been desperately trying to scrape the cash together to eat, sleep and learn at the same time. It was exhausting. Octavia watched a sound tech taking down the club's audio equipment from over by the raised dais. There would no doubt be a DJ on next, and probably for the rest of the night; it was getting late, and the hardcore clubbers would soon be in to grace the dance-floor with their bumping, grinding and whatever other verbs suited their fancy. One upon a time Octavia would have found that worth investigating. Now she just knew that she could't afford the wristband.

With a nod of instruction from Octavia, the bartender poured her a glass of red wine and she took a sip, more out of habit than any true interest. It wasn't terrible, but she'd probably have finished it even if it was. Free was free.

Until this evening, Octavia's knee-length burgundy number had been the last washed dress in her closet. Now her closet was more or less empty; its former contents were piled in a washing basket by the door of her diminutive flat with little chance of cleaning in the near future. She'd have to survive off half-clean t-shirts for a while. It was like her roommate from freshman year all over again.

Someone tapped Octavia on the shoulder and she turned. Inexplicably, it was her roommate from freshman year. Octavia jumped.

"V-Vinyl Scratch?" She spluttered.

Vinyl nodded, laughing. She didn't look nearly as scrappy as she had last time Octavia had seen her: gone was the stained T-shirt and jeans, replaced with a simple but fashionable short black dress. A pair of luminous club wristbands hung off her wrist, perhaps a nod to the old Vinyl, or maybe she simply hadn't changed as much as Octavia thought.

"Long time no see, Tavi. Nice gig: good to see you kept at it." Vinyl Scratch flicked her azure hair out of her eyes and waved at the bartender, who immediately began to pour a glass of scotch.

Octavia smirked, cynically. "I suppose so. Thought I have to say it isn't all I'd hoped."

"No?" Vinyl looked intrigued. She'd left college behind after a year to pursue Celestia-knows-what kind of career, but judging from the new dress and sparkling earrings it had worked out a good deal better financially than Octavia's. "I always had you pegged for an orchestral type, Tavi. Not really my scene, I'm a party filly, but you were good at it."

"Hmm," Octavia grumbled. "Maybe one day, but believe it or not I'm still studying and dad won't talk to me anymore, let alone keep me in school. I need the cash." Octavia sipped the slightly sharp wine and winced. She took back what she thought about it before; it was bad.

"Oh you do, do you?" Vinyl's voice had taken on an oddly discomforting tone. She sat down on the next bar stool, twirling her long legs to face Octavia. "Stand up, turn around."

Octavia looked at her, puzzled. "Why?"

"Just do it, filly. Trust me."

Slowly, not really knowing why, Octaiva slid off her barstool and walked a small circle on the linoleum, black heels not quite digging into the floor. Vinyl looked her up and down unashamedly a she did so and Octavia began to blush.

"What do you want, Vinyl?" Octavia demanded, uncomfortably.

Vinyl ignored her, nodding silently to herself as Octavia rapidly sat back down, legs crossed. "Yes..." She managed, finally. "Just maybe."

"What?"

"How about we get out of here? I've got an idea that you might like to be a part of and this isn't really the most invigorating of atmospheres." The bartender shot Vinyl a glance for that one, which she ignored. "How about 'Lights' down the road?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Vinyl. I can't afford that place." Octavia looked across the deserted dance floor. "I can't even afford to stay here."

Vinyl smirked. "It's on me, filly."

Octavia balked. "That's one of the most exclusive clubs in Canterlot! How can you possibly get in?" She paused at how rude that sounded, but quickly pressed on. "I just mean it's so expensive, and you're a college dropout! It's not like I've ever seen you working anywhere and you said yourself that you're partying all the time!" It didn't really sound less rude that way, but Vinyl didn't seem to mind.

"Filly," Vinyl threw a look back over her shoulder as she slid of her barstool and sashayed towards the exit. "I'm always working."

Octavia was in a bind. She hadn't seen Vinyl in years and hadn't had all that much in common when they had known each other: it was ludicrous to trust her.

Then again, it was only a club.

The best club in Canterlot.

And Vinyl was paying.

Octavia slid off her barstool and dusted her dress off. Maybe Vinyl would take pity on her and adopt her out of the kindness of her heart. Octavia chuckled at the thought. Then, slowly, followed Vinyl through the crowd and out of the door.

----<<<<>>>>----

Lights lived up to its namesake.

There was a crystal chandelier in the centre of the club, casting multicoloured light across an already packed and partying dancefloor. The night was just beginning, but already the club looked full to bursting and there was a line outside stretching around the corner of the block. Vinyl had ignored the line on the way in and so had Octaiva, though she'd felt guilty about it. Somehow, the bouncers hadn't had a problem with this: Vinyl had been let in instantly and, after Vinyl had nodded at Octavia, so had she.

Vinyl had led them both to the bar and sat down. It had been a matter of moments before two cocktail glasses full of glowing blue liquid had been placed in front of them. Octavia barely registered the glasses, she was too busy taking in Light's sheer pulsating prismatic decadence. She took her phone out to capture the lights but Vinyl stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"You there, filly?" She asked. "No flash you know, they get very upset about that."

"Whu-? Oh- Yes!" Octavia had to raise her voice to be heard over the music.

"Good!" Vinyl replied, smiling. Vinyl slid her one of the blue electric blue cocktails across the granite worktop. "Settle in, you get used to it eventually."

"Eventually?!" Octavia boggled. "You can't come here often! I mean these cocktails cost more than my daily salary!"

"Oh yea, most nights." Vinyl affirmed, casually. "Sometimes I'm busy at some garden party or other but usually I find the time."

The words, "garden party" seemed to send Octavia into a dream. She had heard such tales: the class, the sophistication, the men. Not interests she would ever had associated with Vinyl in the past. And yet here Vinyl was: wearing a designer dress and drinking a $40 cocktail in the most exclusive club in Canterlot. Octavia shook herself from her rapture: she had to know.

"But how can you afford any of this? I mean you say you're always working but, well, who pays you?" Octavia asked exasperatedly. "I mean, did the-" Blast, what music had she done in school again? Hip-hot? Trance? Dance? "Electronic music work out?"

Vinyl suppressed a chuckle behind an elegantly manicured hand, "Oh, Celestia, no. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was good at it, but every kid and their neighbour thinks they're a DJ these days; there's no future in it."

Octaiva leaned forwards, "So what is there a future in then?"

Vinyl raised a perfect eyebrow, "You want in?"

"Is that so bad?" Octavia hissed, glancing left and right as if the very suggestion was taboo. "I can barely make ends meet over here and you're sliding between parties like you run the place!" Octavia shook her head. "You never answered me: What do you do?"

Vinyl chuckled slightly and took another sip from her cocktail. "You're sure you want to know?"

"Yes!"

"Well," Vinyl's eyes glinted dangerously as she leaned in close, whispering just audible over the sounds of the club. "Say someone here has a little too much to drink, someone important I mean. Maybe their eyes start wandering where they shouldn't." Vinyl grinned conspiratorially. "Maybe they leave a little early. Maybe they take a pretty young thing with them."

Octavia's mouth was a perfect 'O'. She listened on in stunned silence.

"Perhaps they had a little help in meeting their new friend, help from someone who knows everyone, speaks to everyone, sees everything." Vinyl nodded discreetly to her purse, still grinning devilishly. "Well a hotel key card and a camera is all someone like that would need to take a few... indiscreet photographs."

Octavia gasped. "You-"

Vinyl covered Octavia's mouth lightly with one hand. "This does rather rely on other people not knowing about it, you know." Her impish grin morphed back into a sociably acceptable smile as she pulled away from Octavia. "But you're welcome to... take part." Vinyl winked. "You've got the body for it."

Octavia stared. "You mean..?"

"I always need more, how did I put it? 'Pretty Young Things'."

"No, absolutely not." Octavia moved to pick up her phone from the counter but Vinyl caught her hand.

"There's no shame in it you know." Vinyl began, sternly. "It's not like you're selling your body for sex; we're not tempting saints here: this is about justice. Believe me, I know what these people are capable of when left to their own devices. All this is is a... redistribution of wealth." The conviction in Vinyl's eyes was startling. "How hard did you work to get where you are? Who do you think downsized the Royal Orchestra? It wasn't people like me."

The anger that welled up inside Octavia surprised her. How dare they take away what she had earned?

"Trust me," Vinyl continued. "Nobody loses here that doesn't deserve it."

Octavia's eyes fell on her burgundy dress. Her last good dress. Vinyl's impishness must be contagious. She smirked; she could use the money.

"Ok," she began. "How much?"