Neon pink and green strobe lights blasted the dark room all around. In between the flashes of blinding colors, the outlines of ponies could be seen, jumping, spinning, and twisting wildly in a manner that could almost be called dancing. Sweat flung from their bodies and fell to the floor, only to be obscured from view by a thin layer of fog generated by a few machines scattered about the room.

Inhaling brought with it scents of alcohol, perspiration, and borderline legal drugs, each of which littered the room in various amounts. The glow sticks adorning the necks and legs of nearly everypony there provided just enough light to know who was responsible for which, assuming they stopped dancing long enough to tell.

This, was a rave. It was a kingdom where music reigned supreme.

And Vinyl Scratch sat at the throne to this great kingdom: the turntables.

Right in front of her, the table was adorned with dual record players. Each had a 78 on top of them, with Vinyl’s hooves further atop them to sandwich all the awesomeness in one place. Every so often they would need her guidance to take the sound quality up a notch. A nudge, a turn, and smooth scratches went a long way in enriching the music.

To her sides, two massive subwoofers boomed her ear candy out to the entire club. Being right next to them would usually be cause for concern, seeing as how Vinyl typically liked to crank up the bass to deafening levels, but she was smarter than that. Wedged into her ears were specialized plugs designed to muffle all sound, no matter how much high she turned that volume dial.

She could still hear her music, she needed to after all, but the worse effects were dampened. That was probably for the best, all things considered. Vinyl didn’t want to go deaf so early in her career.

Being a DJ was just too much fun! Raves like this gave Vinyl life. When the pounding music could rattle bones, and ponies all around her were flinging themselves around spastically as the wubs all but forced them to dance, everything was perfect.

Well, almost everything was perfect about it.

Behind her turntables, hidden from view, Vinyl had crossed her hind legs.

It was one of the hazards of DJ-ing. You had to stay out on the floor all night, keeping the flow of wubs coming and making sure the party never slowed. The trade off, you couldn’t take bathroom breaks.

Vinyl’s bladder cried out in desperation, begging for her to sneak away and trade her turntable throne for the porcelain throne. Three empty beer bottles were each tipped over on the edge of the turntable, with a half-empty fourth standing by.

Beer slid right through her, every time. And every time, Vinyl still drank more than she could handle. How could she not? It was booze after all; it was kind of hard to resist.

Wait… does that make me an alcoholic? Vinyl pinched her lips, somehow able to ponder that idea amidst the pounding dubstep.

As impressive as that concentration might’ve been, it was still broken when the ache in her bladder reared its ugly head. The high functioning alcoholic Vinyl Scratch doubled over, crossing her legs tight enough to feel the dangers of cut off circulation.

Okay, enough’s enough. Vinyl bit her lip for all the good it did to hold back her urge to piss. Raising her head to be eye level with the spinning records, she quickly judged how much time this track had left.

Six minutes? Maybe seven… She chewed her bit lip. That was an awfully long time to abdicate her throne for.

The boss won’t be too happy about that. She guessed. While it would be interesting to see how big that vein on his forehead could get, Vinyl probably shouldn’t press her luck. This was her last night temping at Club Stampede, now was the time to be leave a good lasting impression to (hopefully) get more work here later on.

Vinyl smirked, despite her ache. Ha, look at me, thinkin’ all responsibly and crap. Bet Tavi would get a kick out of this.

Her bladder kicked her with another twang of acheness, forcing her to put aside thoughts of her roommate for now.

Turning her focus back to the turntables, Vinyl judged she still had a good five minutes left before the song ended. Plenty of time to sneak away and take a whiz. The momentum of the rave would easily last that long. But she doubted she’d last long enough to change out the records or anything like that.

Time to go. Vinyl bolted from her turntables, her bladder whining as she held it back with all her might. She raced along the edge of the dancefloor, ducking to avoid wayward hooves that flailed all around her.

She pushed open the back door, causing her to spill out into the hallway behind the dance hall. Losing her bearings for a moment, Vinyl looked left and right to catch sight of the nearest bathroom. Finally she spotted it halfway down the hall, causing both her and her bladder to groan.

Why do they have to put it so far away?

Grumbling a few choice words under her breath, she trotted over to it, glad to finally experience relief.

Just as she reached for the doorknob, it suddenly turned. Vinyl winced as she realized somepony was in there. She backed up, prepared to give it all of one second before she started banging on the door. Luckily, it never came to that, as she’d backed away just in time for the door to swing open to reveal the mare inside.

The first thing that struck Vinyl was the mane. Two massive, pink twin tails dominated everything about her. A similarly pink coat and blue eyes almost made Vinyl think she had run into an old friend, further evidenced by the spark of recognition in the mare’s eyes.

“Oh, you’re the DJ!” She exclaimed. Her voice immediately assured Vinyl that she had a case of mistaken identity here; it was bubbly and youthful, but not very high-pitched or energized.

“That’s me,” she said to the stranger. A spike of pain blasted her bladder. She nudged her head to indicate to the mare she should move. “If you don’t mind I--”

“I was hoping to talk to you!” The mare smiled, oblivious to the hint.

“Great…” Vinyl groaned.

“I heard from the manager you were temping, so I guess that means you aren’t a full time DJ yet?”

Because I needed a reminder of that right now. Vinyl sighed, crossing her hind legs. “Yeah?”

“Well my club’s been looking for a DJ, actually.”

That sent Vinyl’s ears shooting up. “You know a club lookin’ to hire?”

“Know it? Sister, I own it.” The mare puffed out her chest proudly, causing a necklace hanging from it to bounce forward and catch Vinyl's attention.

She blinked in surprise upon seeing a pacifier dangling from the mare’s neck, among other club apparel. It wasn’t a totally unexpected sight--Vinyl had seen pony’s who wear these to raves when ponies were trying to make a fashion statement or whatever--but it did catch her by surprise. Especially since this one looked… used.

“It’s called the Fountain of Youth,” the mare continued, unaware or unconcerned that Vinyl had spotted her pacifier.

“Never heard of it,” Vinyl bluntly admitted, looking back up. Her bladder screamed and she winced. How long did she have before her track ended now? Four minutes? Geeze, was that enough time?

“Oh, no worries. We’re a pretty underground club after all. We do kinda… weird stuff, but it would be cool of you to give us a chance.”

Her bladder felt ready to burst. Vinyl had to end this conversation soon. “Whatever it is I’m down for it. A job’s a job, right Ms. … Uh...”

“Pacific Glow.”

“Vinyl,” Vinyl said. She shifted her weight from one hind leg to another, her bladder threatening to release.

Pacific giggled a little, putting her hoof to her lips coyly. “You’ve got a cute potty dance, Vinyl.”

Pinpricks of pink appeared on Vinyl’s cheeks. What, did this mare think she was a foal or something?

“Y-Yeah, well…” Vinyl bit her lip as she struggled to think of a proper retort. What do you even say to that?

“Speaking of, I gotta tell you about the club. You see it’s kind of--”

Vinyl gritted her teeth. Already she could tell they’d left the important part of the conversation, and unfortunately that was a one way street. “Yeah, you don’t gotta worry about any of that,” she said, inching to move around Pacific Glow. She must’ve had around three minutes left and she hadn’t even gotten into the bathroom yet. While she didn’t want to be rude, she was quickly running out of alternatives.

The mare just blinked, mouth creasing into a frown. “Uh, no I think I do. You see my club’s a--”

Vinyl just waved her hoof dismissively. Right now, whatever Pacific had to say, it was not more important than getting into that restroom. For personal reasons, Vinyl really didn’t want to piss herself in front of her new boss. “Whatever it is, it’s cool. As long as you got a turntable and some amps then we're golden.”

That sent Pacific’s eyelids fluttering in confusion. “Uh… I'm not so sure about that. I’ve had a lot of DJ’s quit on the first night because they didn’t know about--”

A pressure surge in her bladder nearly sent Vinyl reeling. Wincing through it all, she offered a smile. “I’m telling you it’s fine. I’ve played at dozens of different places in this city; trust me when I say I’ve seen it all.”

Pacific’s lips tightened. “Well, if you’re sure, then can you start tomorrow? At nine?”

She couldn’t take it anymore. “I’ll see ya then!” Vinyl practically shouted, not-so-subtly brushing passed Pacific to rush into the restroom. The sight of a toilet had never been so heavenly.

“Oh, wait!” Pacific called out before Vinyl could shut the door. “I still never told you about--”

“Don’t worry, I can find the club on my own,” Vinyl called out as she shut the door.

Pacific Glow opened her mouth to reply, only to get smacked in the face by the wind the door made. For a moment, she just stood there. She managed to close her mouth after a few seconds and could only shrug.

“I guess it’ll be alright,” she convinced herself. Taking her pacifier in her hoof, Pacific popped it into her mouth and began suckling as she walked away.

Vinyl sauntered up to the front door of her apartment, either drunk, hungover, or somehow both. But she still managed to find the right one, even with her triple vision making it difficult.

She stumbled up to it, legs criss crossing, tripping over themselves, flailing… pretty much doing anything except walk normally. Luckily Vinyl managed to find her balance by face planting into the door.

“Errgh,” she mumbled, peeling her face away. It didn’t really hurt--when she was near blackout drunk like this, it was hard to feel much of anything--but it was still pretty embarrassing.

Going for the doorknob, Vinyl was pleased to find that it only took her three tries to twist and pop it open. As the door slid open, Vinyl was hit with a cool breeze of air conditioning, and the alluring scent of freshly brewed coffee.

The sight of her living room, blurry and hazy though it was, gave her a sense of satisfaction that she’d stumbled into the right home after all. Her nose followed the coffee scent, turning her head to look deeper into the apartment. The kitchen came into focus, a dark pot of pure caffeine resting with it. Above it, a face as familiar as Vinyl’s home.

“I see you didn’t forget how to open the door this time,” Octavia Melody, cellist and roommate extraordinaire.

“One time!” Vinyl scoffed as she finished slinking in, letting the door slam shut behind her. “Cut me some slack once and awhile, will ya?”

Octavia cocked her head, lips pursing as though she was actually musing over the idea. But even hungover, Vinyl knew better. “I don’t think so.”

“You never let me live anything down.” Vinyl dragged her hooves to the nearest ploppable surface: the couch.

As she plopped onto it, Octavia worked her way into the living room, coffee pot in hoof. “I’m guessing you need something to shake off your headache?”

“Yeff peef,” Vinyl muffled, face buried in the couch.

She heard a clink, most likely the coffee pot being set down on the aptly named coffee table. “Help yourself,” Octavia said. “I’ve got my cup already, and there’s no way I can finish all this before I need to leave.”

Vinyl peeled her face from the couch, much to her pounding head’s discontent. “You’re such a good friend,” she murmured.

Octavia smirked. “Already trying to weasel your way out of next month’s rent payment?”

Ouch. Though Vinyl didn’t want to admit it…. Yeah, that was definitely something she’d do. Octavia knew today had been her last night at that club; no wonder she was waiting for it.

“Can’t I just give my best friend a compliment every now and again?” Vinyl asked with a hint of indignancy.

“You mean without an ulterior motive?” Octavia chuckled. “Gee, let me think…”

Okay, time to wipe that smirk off her face. “Actually.” She attempted to roll over onto her back, but her aching head put a stop to that. She herself flop back, having barely extended any effort. “I don’t have ulterior motives this time.”

Octavia just raised a dubious eyebrow. “Oh?”

She grinned. “Guess who’s got another gig already lined up.”

“That’s great, Vinyl.” No cheers, no applause, no fanfare.

“You’re damn right it’s great!” Vinyl declared, one hundred percent more hyped than Octavia was. Maybe two hundred percent, actually. “They might want me to be a regular, Tavi. You know what that means?”

“You won’t be falling behind on rent anymore?”

Vinyl just attempted to shake her head, smacking the side of her snout into the couch in the process. “Tavi, Tavi, Tavi. So utterly blinded by your obsession with the rent--”

“I have to pick up your half all the time!” Octavia interjected.

“--that you can’t even see the big picture anymore.” Vinyl tossed her hooves into the air, trying to give her next lines some pizzaz, even as she deadpanned them through her hangover. “I’m gonna be famous!”

Octavia paused for a moment, looking as though she couldn’t decide between shaking her head and rolling her eyes. She eventually settled on both. “Ah yes, your ‘ticket up’ as it were.”

“Mmm mm,” Vinyl said, wincing as her head felt another pang of pain from the hangover.

“Well then I’m sure this gig of yours will go quite well.” Octavia said as she disappeared into her room, returning with a cello bag wrapped around her back. “At the very least, you’ll make some money.”

“Yep. So long as I find the place alright.”

Octavia froze in mid step on her way to the door. “You… do know where this club is, right?”

“Nope, but I’ll find it.” Vinyl waved her away. “I have until tonight.”

“...Right.” Just that one word carried so much disbelief.

“Oh don’t be like that!” Vinyl called as her roommate resumed her walk to the door. “Nothing’s gonna go wrong tonight! And when I get home tomorrow morning you’re gonna have to eat your words!”

Octavia didn’t even look back, as she shut the door, only throwing out a hasty, “I'll look forward to it, then.”

“Hmmph,” Vinyl grumbled at the naysayer. She nestled up into the couch, drawing the coffee pot towards her with a lazy burst of magic. “You’ll see,” she murmured in between sips of tongue-scalding goodness. "Tomorrow morning, you're gonna be real surprised."

Author's Note

Been holding onto this for a bit. Was really hoping to have the second chapter finished before I started uploading, but my schedule's just never going to get better and I'm getting sick of going for so long without uploading anything.

So have this while I focus on end of the year stuff, and then hopefully before 2018 you'll get the rest. (I'll aim for around Christmas)