The Ponyville Rag

by Fernie Canto

Rating: teen
Tags: Profanity, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Drama, Original Character, Sex
Length: 90865

A pony embarks in a life changing adventure moved by one of the most powerful forces in Equestria: Music.

Just how far is a pony willing to go moved just by the power of music? Dainty Tunes, who's just getting acquainted to his life in Ponyville, is about to find out. After a chance meeting in a pub, he comes across the mysteriously alluring music of a mostly forgotten band, which might awake him to his true calling in this magical world.

This story is many things. It's an ode to the transformative power of music. It's an homage to a band I've loved since my teens. It's the emancipation of a throwaway OC into a full blown character. It's a story of love, camaraderie and self-discovery. It's also a story about the magic of friendship, but I guess you might've seen that coming.

Cover art by myself.

Published 2021-06-15 16:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-07-10 17:32:27 UTC

Track 1: Almost by Mistake

Read at the maximum volume

Dainty Tunes had been working in construction jobs for a while now.

The work he did was quite unlike him; his body was slender, he wasn’t particularly strong, and the work was a little more dangerous than he was comfortable with. However, he went along well enough. His methodical, attentive style of working in a way compensated for his lack of physical strength, and anything that demanded more minutious, repetitive work was usually left for him. It was tough work, and very far from his aspirations, but it would have to do for the time being.

If anything, he was getting along with his workmates. In fact, this very evening, he was going off to hang out with two of his colleagues, Jack Hammer and Iron Bolt. He somehow found some affinity with them, and, though he talked rather little, he was an attentive listener, and he was always reliable to hear whatever stories, joyful or tragic, the other two had to share. He noticed, though, that neither had any particular interest in music. They did enjoy it, but not enough to discuss the musical traditions of Equestria, all the different styles, and the stark contrast between the regal, erudite musical tradition of Canterlot and the folk music of settlements such as Ponyville itself. Deep down, he hoped he could somehow make use of all the studying and reading he did in his free time; when he wasn’t composing or training his instruments, he was reading scores or treatises on harmony and orchestration. It was interesting, but, so far, it was nothing but a hobby.

For now, he was happy enough heading off with his two friends to a pub, just outside Ponyville, for some drinks and chatting. He had been there twice before, the Bamboo Pub; the first time, there had been a trio of musicians playing on a tiny stage, which included an upright piano. It was pleasant, competent music, and he had found himself paying more attention to the music than to his friends’ chat at some times. On the second night, there was no one playing.

When they went inside, he noticed the stage was empty again. The pub itself was about half full, with ponies talking loudly around the simplistic, strictly functional tables, all of them supplied with drinks and snacks. A waiter roamed through the tables, mostly delivering drinks. The owner of the pub, a senior, corpulent pony, worked behind the counter with his wife, a lady with a friendly face and greyish mane. The trio greeted the two of them with a wave, and were soon met by the waiter.

“Same place as usual?” the waiter said.

“Sure thing, pal!” Iron Bolt replied. “We hope it’s not taken.”

“No, it’s free today!” the waiter replied, leading them to an empty table at the far back of the pub, close to the stage.

“Great,” Jack Hammer said, “and bring us a cold one right away.”

“Sure thing, chief!” the waiter replied, already darting off to the counter.

The three ponies occupied their seats, continuing the chatter they were having while on the way. Dainty listened carefully as the other two debated the fates of the local sports teams, with rock solid opinions and steely interest. Even though Dainty wasn’t knowledgeable about sports, he tried to follow what they had to say and learn something or other. He admired how his friends knew so much about sports, and were able to elaborate their opinions and thoughts. Perhaps their interest wasn’t too different from Dainty’s passion for music, after all.

The drink arrived together with three cups. Dainty filled the cups, they cheered and drank, and the talk resumed. The conversation sometimes wandered into their day-to-day chores on the construction sites, and those times, Dainty was able to contribute a little more.

A while later, he heard some movement on the stage behind him. Somepony was heading to the piano.

“Aw, no!” Jack Hammer said. “It’s open stage night.”

“Ah, I had completely forgotten,” Iron Bolt replied.

“Why? Is that bad?” Dainty Tunes said.

“Well, most of the time, it’s alright,” Jack Hammer said. “But sometimes, it can get pretty dire.”

The pony who sat at the piano had an unkempt look, a frizzy mane and the face of somepony who couldn’t care less about that. He played something jolly and uptempo, and it had no singing. Dainty’s friends quickly resumed the chat, but he couldn’t help but notice the melody sometimes. He kept wondering, he might as well go to the piano and play something, but he couldn’t think of a proper repertoire. The songs he knew didn’t seem appropriate for that setting, especially his own compositions. He thought to himself: he did carry in his memory some songs from the alternate universe where he had been created, but he felt it could raise suspicion to play such songs to that crowd. Nopony would know them, and he wouldn’t have the courage to claim he wrote them! This wasn’t a dumb, cheesy Danny Boyle film.

The musician at the piano played a string of compositions. The bottle of drink on the table of the three friends was finished before he was.

“Hey, Dainty, do your thing,” Iron Bolt said, handing him the empty bottle.

“Yep, sure thing,” he replied, licking his lips and grabbing the bottle.

He brought the opening of the bottle up to his lips, and, adopting a specific embouchure, blew on it. A loud, hollow whistle flew across the pub.

“In a moment!” the lady behind the counter replied, in her friendly tone.

The trio chuckled. “It never fails!”

In a couple of seconds, the waiter brought them another bottle. Iron Bolt filled the cups.

A few more musical acts alternated on the stage. After the pianist, a male pony accompanied a female singer on the guitar. They were good, though a little bit generic, but quite skilled. A few minutes after they were done, another male pony, more stylishly dressed and with a carefully combed mane, sang some songs on the piano. They seemed to be common folk songs, as he heard other ponies singing along around the tables.

Dainty noticed the level of inebriation was slowly rising around the place. It was still calm and friendly, but the loud chatter and laughing made the conversation with his friends a little more difficult.

Then, he noticed a pony strolling towards the stage, a guitar on his back. He pulled up a chair, sat down and readied his guitar.

“I’m now going to play some classic songs from The Town Troop.”

There were sudden, loud groans and protests coming from the other tables. Dainty frowned, looking around to see who was objecting.

“Give more respect, will ya?” the musician retorted. “You ponies need to know some good music.”

Then, he played some arpeggiated chords, and the protests went on. Dainty couldn’t help but listen closely to those chords: Cmaj7, Am7, Bm7 and Em… Odd, he thought. That’s an uncommon style of playing. The music moved on to a quickly strummed repetition of the same chords, and the pony started to sing in a deep baritone. The lyrics were pensive, introspective, mulling about time in an almost obsessive way.

A few crumpled paper napkins flew towards the stage, but the pony kept playing and singing, ignoring all the booing. Iron Bolt and Jack Hammer shook their heads.

“Can’t believe he’s really doing that!” Iron Bolt said.

“What’s the problem?” Dainty said. “Why is everypony so upset?”

“No one here likes The Town Troop, pal,” Jack Hammer said. “That band is a done deal.”

“They were way too popular many years ago, and nopony can stand them anymore,” Iron Bolt said.

Dainty thought for a moment. Though he had no idea who that band was, if he displayed too much ignorance, the others could become a little suspicious. “Huh, I didn’t know they were that disliked.”

“That’s just how the crowd here is, pal,” Iron Bolt said.

Dainty made an effort to hear the song in the middle of that chaos; it sounded very intriguing, and oddly powerful. Those lyrics! He had never heard anything like that. The way the melody just kept going, with very little repetition, was strangely captivating.

Still, the crowd got the best of the poor musician, and the owner of the pub went to the stage and kindly asked him to stop and go back to his seat. Many ponies cheered when he stopped, and some kept criticising him as he dragged himself back to his seat.

Dainty felt sorry for him, but tried not to let it show too much; he was afraid somepony could become hostile towards him, and he wasn’t in the mood for that.

The night marched on for a while, and, at one point, Dainty felt like going outside for a bit, as the noise was getting to him. A trio of ponies was now playing, and they were nowhere as competent as the trio he had seen on the first night, but the crowd wasn’t displeased. Perhaps the drinks helped make the music more acceptable.

The air was rather cool and refreshing outside, and the moon shone brightly in the sky. He looked up, with a slight smile. “Cheers to you, Princess Luna!” he said, and looked around himself.

From somewhere, he heard some faint guitar notes, making an interesting, unusual melody. He frowned, trotted around the side of the tavern, and found the musician from before, sitting on the floor against the wall, playing to himself. He had a concentrated, melancholy look as he watched his own hooves playing the tune. He had a long, puffy mane in shades of red, from very dark to almost orange, and his coat was sort of burnt yellow. His cutie mark was the head of an acoustic guitar, complete with tuning pegs.

Dainty watched in silence, hoping he wouldn’t disturb him, and noticing how that melody seemed to match the dark tranquility of his surroundings. The musician repeated the guitar phrases a few times, until he slowed down to a stop, letting some lonely notes ring out towards the woods.

“That was good,” Dainty said.

The musician turned to look at him, without changing his expression. “Huh. You didn’t come here just to boo me?”

“No, of course not,” Dainty replied, taking a few tentative steps ahead. “That was… pretty sad, what they did to you. And a shame, too, because the song was good.”

The musician shrugged. “They just don’t get it. They’re too trendy and cool to enjoy the classics. No matter how much we try to show them the value of songs like these, they just won’t listen.”

“So why keep insisting, then?” Dainty said, standing in front of the musician.

“Because maybe there’ll be a single, solitary pony who’ll want to listen and discover more, and that will make it worth it.”

Dainty gazed to his side. “… so, I made it all worth it? Well, I’m glad.”

“Yeah… I still wish more would be like you, but I shouldn’t ask for too much, I guess.”

He started to play some quiet, apparently improvised chords, and Dainty rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if he was overstaying his welcome. “So, that band,” he said, “how old are they? Have been going on for a long time?”

The musician lifted his head. “Well, they started almost forty years ago, now,” he said, making a plaintive pause, “and ended about twenty-five years ago.”

“Oh, they’re not around anymore,” Dainty said, sitting down on the ground. “That’s a shame.”

“It’s a terrible shame,” the musician replied. “It was a real tragedy when Deep Voice passed away.”

Dainty was shocked. He had never come across the mention of death in this world before, and the pony before him was clearly affected by this. “Deep Voice?”

“The legendary singer and lyricist of The Town Troop, and an idol to many,” he said. “You don’t know much about them, do you?”

“Yeah, I seriously don’t,” Dainty replied, supposing this was a big embarrassment. “I’m… not extremely familiar with that style of music. I liked it, though.”

“You should look out for their stuff, then. You’ll probably like it.” He plucked his guitar a little more, and then looked back at Dainty. “The name is Steel Strings, by the way.”

“I’m Dainty Tunes. It’s nice to meet you.” He looked around, starting to wonder if Steel Strings was really in the mood for any further conversation. “So… why don’t you play the song you tried before, now that there’s no one here to complain?”

Steel Strings shrugged. “I guess, if you’re interested…”

In a few seconds, he played the arpeggios as before, and launched into the lyrics. His playing was a little softer this time, probably because he wasn’t competing with the crowd. Oddly enough, that made the song feel more affecting and powerful, like the musician was confessing something very personal. The lyrics were mysterious and oblique, but Dainty couldn’t help but feel they meant something important. No other songs he knew were like that.

The song ended with an almost sombre, haunting tone, and Steel Strings played it with a casualness that made it even more unsettling for Dainty. The sadness and anguish in this song sounded like it couldn’t be fixed; it was just a fact of life, something you couldn’t avoid.

“Wow,” he said. “That really is a great song.”

“It’s one of the best ever written,” Steel Strings replied, and sighed. “Shame so many ponies don’t seem to care.”

“Well, you know,” Dainty said, tentatively, “I guess different ponies just have different tastes. You can’t expect everypony to like the same things.”

“I know, but do they need to be so nasty about what they don’t like? It’s like, ‘oh, disliking this band is cool, look how cool I am.’ I think that’s silly.”

Dainty Tunes shrugged. “Maybe it is… but we can’t do much about it, I guess.”

Steel Strings shook his head. “They say music brings us together, but it seems it splits everypony apart, sometimes.”

“But we still do it regardless, right? What matters is that we play what we like.”

“You’re a musician too?”

“Yeah, I… I am, actually,” Dainty said, with sudden shyness. “I also make music.”

“Then you must know how frustrating it is when ponies just don’t want to listen to you,” Steel Strings replied.

“Well, I… I haven’t actually gone out to try to get heard, really,” Dainty said. “I just think that things will start happening when the time is right. I’ll find my audience someday.”

“You gotta try to make a name for yourself, Dainty Tunes. People just won’t come knocking on your door to hear what you do. You have to go out and play.”

“Yeah, I think so,” Dainty said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Someday, I guess…” He suddenly stood up, a little embarrassed. “Well, my friends must think I forgot about them! I… guess I should go back to my table, but it… it was really nice to talk to you.”

“Yeah, same, buddy,” Steel Strings replied, turning his attention back to his guitar.

Hesitating a little, Dainty went back to the front door and entered the pub, feeling the harsh contrast of the warm, messy, noisy atmosphere inside. The same trio from before were still playing, and, by now, nopony seemed to be giving much attention to the music—it was only background noise. Dainty headed back to his table.

“Hey, pal, you got lost in the woods?” Iron Bolt said.

Dainty gave a sheepish smile. “Well, you know, the moon was so beautiful outside, I just lost track of time.”

“Well, since you’re here,” Jack Hammer said, handing him the empty bottle.

Dainty knew what to do: he prepared his embouchure again and blew on the opening, a little stronger this time, to overcome all the noise. The whistle was much higher and more piercing than before.

The voice of the lady was faintly heard: “In a moment!”

The trio chuckled.

During the weekend, Dainty Tunes would often find himself remembering that song. He hadn’t memorised the entire melody or the lyrics, but he remembered the chords. He would often find himself repeating those chords on his piano and improvising on top of it, trying to remember some fragments of the song.

He wished to know more. He had to know more. If they had been such a popular band, they would have released way more songs than that one. He needed to hear them.

Ponyville had only one record store, and that seemed to be his only hope. During his lunch break on Monday, he rushed to the store. It was a cosy, nicely decorated place with posters of famous composers and popular groups, and a fair amount of bins filled with records, ready to be browsed. He had no time to go through all of them, so he headed towards the counter, where a young stallion stood. He had a pale blue coat, and his brown mane was carefully combed, but not too stylishly. Just enough to cause an impression.

“Um, good afternoon, there,” Dainty said.

“Hi there, fella!” the store clerk said. “Do you need help?”

“Yeah, I do, actually. I wanted to know if you have any records by The Town Troop.”

The clerk furrowed his brow and stared towards the ceiling, his jaw hanging a little open. He tilted his head, as in deep pondering. “Aren’t they, like, a really old band?”

Dainty Tunes looked to the side, a little embarrassed. “Um, I think so, yeah. But I just guessed that you’d still have some of their records around here.”

“If we have any, they must be in the used record bin,” the clerk said, pointing towards the opposite corner of the store.

Dainty quickly nodded. “Well, I hope so. I’ll give it a check,” he said, turning around.

“Take your time!”

The used bin was noticeably isolated from the other ones, and it had a chunk of several dozen records. The record on the top of the pile looked very beaten down, with the edges worn off, and it looked like a selection of easy listening recordings. Without much hope, Dainty started to flip through the records, getting less and less hopeful as he went. He reached the very last item on the pile, only to find a record of field recordings of traditional music from the Frozen North.
Dainty sighed, but figured he’d grab that record anyway, just not to leave the story empty hooved—and hey, those field recordings could turn out to be cool. He made his way back to the counter to pay for his purchase, and put the record away in his saddlebag before he headed for the exit.

“Enjoy your record!” the pony behind the counter said. “Have a good day!”

“The same to you, my friend,” Dainty replied.

At least the clerk didn’t make any funny faces at his odd choice of record, so he only had the disappointment of not finding what he hoped for.

As the shift went on, he wondered if he had any hopes of finding scores for the songs. If he could find them anywhere, it would be in the bookshop. He had purchased some scores there before.

Dainty went there after the shift. The store was just about to close, and the last ponies were finishing their purchases. Dainty headed to one of the clerks, a mare with a light brown coat and blond mane with a formal hairdo.

“Good afternoon,” Dainty said, feeling a little intimidated. “I’m, uh, looking for musical scores for songs by a band called The Town Troop. Do you happen to have them.”

The clerk made a slightly surprised expression. “Oh, I’m sorry, but we don’t work with that kind of music. We specialise in traditional and concert music.”

Dainty tried not to look too dejected. “Oh, alright, I see. Well, glad to know that; whenever I need any of that, I know where to find it,” he said, just out of politeness. “So… thank you for now, alright?”

“No problem, sir,” the lady replied.

When he got home, he put his new record to play and sat on the bed. He couldn’t believe there was nothing about this band around. He just felt the urge to listen to that song again, and to whatever else they had—or at least to know a little about this band, their story, who their members were. As he heard the scratchy, poor quality recordings of music made with rudimentary flutes and simple percussion, he pondered that the bookshop could have a book about that; but it would be hard to find. Unless they had a book specifically about the band, he didn’t know what to look for.

On his lunch break the next day, he rushed to the bookshop, heading to the section with music books. It wasn’t a large section, but it had enough items to keep him busy for a while. Most of them were about music theory, methods for learning instruments, treatises on musical practices, but, eventually, he reached the part about history.

There was nothing about the band. There were books about specific composers, but nothing on Deep Voice either. Some books seemed to detail the history of specific musical movements, but he had no idea where The Town Troop would fit.

He pondered for a second: maybe he could check the index of the books.

Dainty Tunes started to pick books that had promising titles and went straight to the last pages, scouring the index for Town Troop or Deep Voice. He looked for about eight books, and his hopes were beginning to fade.

The next book to check had a curious cover: a bunch of ponies with shabby clothes, crazy hairstyles and mean faces in some unfriendly looking alley. The title read Rockin’ the Town! The Story of Rock Music in Manehattan. That made him raise an eyebrow, and he went to the index.

Bingo!

It had a whole chapter on the band. It wasn’t particularly long, but the book seemed to spend more pages on that band than on any other. This would have to do for now.

He headed towards the counter and paid for the book, and hurried back to work.

The very first thing he did once he got home in the evening was lie in bed and open his book, right on the first page about The Town Troop. He surely wished to read the rest as well, but he had his priorities.

The book confirmed the things that Steel Strings had mentioned about them: their origin dated back almost forty years, and they formed in a particularly dull district of Baltimare, where these bunches of bored teenagers started to pick up instruments and make noise to spend their time. They were sick of the music their parents listened to and that played on the radio, and wanted something more exciting. Deep Voice was among those teenagers, and he started to play bass, write songs and sing in a band he formed with a few other buddies.

However, the band ended just a few years later, and Deep Voice wanted to make a different kind of music: not as noisy and amateurish as before, but still energetic and fierce. And so, he enlisted the help of another group of friends: Cymbal Crash was called to play drums, and Shimmering Chord was brought in to supply guitar. Finally, Deep Voice decided he didn’t want to play bass anymore, and passed the duty to Rocky Rumble. And so, the formation of The Town Troop was complete.

Dainty found himself staring at a picture of the quartet, and gazed deeply at their faces and their expressions. Deep Voice looked absolutely unassuming, a young fellow with thick, curly black mane and light purple coat, a wide snout and small, but expressive eyes behind a pair of glasses with small, rectangular lenses. One would probably ignore him if walking by him on the street, but the look in his eyes, the lines in his face, suggested something hidden and profound, layers and layers of knowledge and sentiment just ready to burst. Shimmering Chord had this sharp, straight face, narrow eyes and a well combed dark mane. He looked serious and determined, like he knew exactly why he was there. Rocky Rumble was objective, practical, ready for the job. His eyes were round, his mane was dark and extremely short, and he had a dark grey coat. Cymbal Crash, with his wandering eyes, soft expression and blond mane styled over a blue, almost violet coat, looked almost like he was somewhere else, imagining things; perhaps some piece of music only he could hear.

Even though the band was formed on Baltimare, it was in Manehattan where they hit it big. They travelled there to start recording their songs, and fame arrived quickly. They started to play huge concerts, going to other towns as well, but Manehattan remained their home, so to speak. Rocky Rumble eventually left the band, leaving them as a trio, which lasted all the way to the end. Shimmering Chord opened a record store, which was also a record label, releasing music from up and coming bands.

Eventually, Deep Voice started to get very sick, and stopped leaving his house altogether. He passed away, leaving fans stunned and devastated for days. And, since then, the other band members never played those songs again.

The book didn’t give deep details on who the band members were and how the band progressed over the years, but then again, that wasn’t the focus of the book. Still, it seemed clear to him: if he wanted to know more about the band, he’d probably have to go to Manehattan.

The idea made him nervous: he was just getting acquainted with his modest life in Ponyville, and now he was thinking of going straight to the big city. There was something scary about it. On the other hoof, it was feasible: he had a few days of paid vacation he could take, and he had enough savings to make such a journey. He could spend a few days there, visit the record stores and bookshops and get his hooves on everything he could find about the band: records, books, scores. If Shimmering Chord’s shop still existed, it had to have something.

Track 2: L'Avventura

Dainty Tunes had arranged everything. He sat at the train station, his heart pounding with nervousness. He read the book as an attempt to calm himself down and spend the time, but he kept getting distracted by anxious thoughts. Was this really a good idea? Did it make sense to go to such a huge town to find information about some band, considering he might as well come back with nothing? Was it a good idea to go alone? Did he really have enough money?

The train loudly arrived at the station, and he closed the book and jumped up to his hooves. He mingled with all the other passengers embarking the train, found himself an empty seat and sat down, breathing deeply. Something in his head kept saying it was a dumb idea.

He tried to ignore the thought and opened the book again. He read the stories of several other bands, some with stories similar to that of The Town Troop, others with surprising origins. He even found the story of a band that hailed from Ponyville itself, with the curious name of the Engineers from Seaward Shoals. He also read something about some really big and interesting bands that formed in the city of Seaddle, some with starkly tragic stories. Depending on how much money he spent, he could look for some records by those other bands.

His heart started pounding when he realised he was arriving in Manehattan: that skyline, those buildings… It was all so imposing. His mind was flooded with thoughts that this had been a bad idea all along, and he would seriously regret it.

As he stepped out of the station, his luggage firmly in hoof, he had only one thought in his mind: he had to find a place to stay, one that could fit his budget, but that hopefully wouldn’t be too dire. It took him a lot of roaming, but he was lucky enough to find a cheap, but rather charming place, run by a slightly elderly couple. The lady behind the desk had a slightly pink coat and a beautiful greying mane, styled into a puffy, old-fashioned hairdo, and wore glasses with small rectangular lenses. Next to her, her husband, a balding stallion with a hazel coloured mane and a light grey coat, checked some hoofwritten books. The lobby was furnished and decorated in an old-fashioned, but very cozy style, matching the gentle atmosphere he got from the couple.

“Hello, there,” Dainty said, approaching the desk and stationing his suitcase next to him.

“Why, hello, son!” the lady said. “How are you this afternoon?”

“I’m doing alright.” Dainty tried to conceal his nervousness and uncertainty after having explored that massive, complicated city. “So, have you got a room available?”

“We certainly do, dear! How long are you staying?”

“I’m staying for four days. I’m going home on Thursday.”

“Alright, let me check for a moment,” the lady replied, adjusting her glasses and checking the reservation book in front of her.

“You look a little nervous, son,” the old stallion said. “Is everything okay?”

Danty’s eyes widened a bit. He couldn’t have imagined his state was so clearly visible. “Oh, it’s, just… Everything is okay, really, this is just… my first time in Manehattan, you know? It’s a… very crowded city, and all.”

“Where are you from, dear?” the lady said, while she wrote something down in the book.

“I’m from Ponyville.”

“Oh, I know Ponyville,” she replied warmly. “It’s a charming little place.”

“It sure is,” Dainty replied with a slightly clumsy smile. “By the way, before I forget, I think I didn’t catch your name…”

“I’m Warm Breeze,” the lady replied, raising her face, “and this here is my husband, Silvery Light.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Dainty Tunes.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Tunes,” Silvery Light replied.

“So, he’s going to show you your room, if you don’t mind following him,” Warm Breeze said, handing the old stallion the keys. “Have a nice stay!”

“Thank you!” Dainty replied, fumbling a little to pick up his suitcase. “Thank you very much!”

He went off after Silvery Light, who headed through a corridor, and stopped on the second door to the right. He opened it, and made way for Dainty to go on.

“Well, this is it,” he said. “We hope you have a pleasant stay.”

“I’m sure I will,” Dainty replied, picking up the key. “Thanks a lot!”

The old man went back to the lobby, and Dainty entered the room. It was small, with a single bed, a wardrobe and a desk with a lamp. A potted flower sat at the end of the bed. It was perfectly fine for him, after all, he didn’t go there demanding luxury. He sat on the bed, and felt it might even be more comfortable than his own bed.

Still, he had no time to lose. It was early afternoon, and maybe he could do something before the day was over.

Dainty explored the avenues of Manehattan in search of record stores. He considered asking somepony for directions, but everypony seemed to be in a hurry, so maybe he shouldn’t bother. He had taken care to write down the address to the hotel he was in, so, in case he got lost, he could just get a cab.

He reached a crossing between two large avenues. He looked closely in each direction, and spotted what seemed to be a large record store to the left, on the other side of the road. He waited to cross all the way to the other sidewalk and approached the store. He could hear some very modern sounding music from inside.

The place was large, incomparably bigger than the modest shop in Ponyville, and it was quite full of customers. Many bins filled with records lined the walls, and even some instruments were on display at the far back of the store. Dainty inspected the bins, until he reached the section marked “Rock”.

Trying not to let his expectations ride too high, he carefully flipped through the records. He recognised the names of some of the bands and some of the covers from the book, but he was almost at the end of the first bin, and he had no luck. There was a second bin of rock records, though, so not all was lost.

Almost at the far end of the first bin, something jumped out to his eyes. That cover. He recognised it!

His eyes wide and heart racing, he gently pulled the record out. On the cover, three ponies stood in a rich field of colourful flowers against a deep blue background. Deep Voice stood with an imposing stance, wearing a dark coat and holding a small bunch of flowers. Shimmering Chord sat on a rock, with a stringed instrument in his hooves. Cymbal Crash sat on the ground next to him. All three looked straight at the camera, as if straight into Dainty Tunes’s eyes.

He flipped the record cover, and there it read: Town Troop — The Discovery of Equestria.

Almost hyperventilating, he put the record aside, within his field of vision. He still had the second bin to check. Even though he found records by other bands, which he did wish to check, he didn’t want to risk having no money for whatever other Town Troop records he could come across. As he checked each item in the bin, he kept glancing at the record on his side—he feared some other pony could come around and grab it, and he’d lose his valuable treasure.

He reached the final record on the second bin, and had no luck. Still, he wasn’t disappointed: he finally had one of the band’s albums right there. He eagerly brought it to the counter, where a young female clerk worked. The accessories and hairdo she wore were very unusual to him; she looked very hip and modern.

She looked down at the record, and Dainty had a feeling she was trying hard not to scoff. “The Town Troop, eh?”

“Yep, that’s right,” he said, trying not to lose his excitement.

She charged him for the album and put it inside a nice, slick bag. Dainty put it away neatly in his saddlebag and left the store. He could jump and yell with excitement, but that was no place to make such a scene.

He still had time; the day was far from over. He roamed the avenues looking for more shops. He came across another record store, almost the same size as the previous one, but he didn’t find anything. On another block, he found a bookstore, and decided to try his luck.

After browsing the music section, his eyes caught the big lettering in one of the spines: The Town Troop: The Untold Story. It wasn’t a particularly thick book, but it was fully focused on the band. The cover had an image of Deep Voice on stage, singing into a microphone, with the blur of other musicians behind him.

Dainty bought the book and put it away. His budget was still fine: he could buy a couple more records, if he could find any, and he could still eat and get around town as he needed. Just as he thought of this, he realised he was quite hungry. He stopped in a snack bar and hurriedly had a sandwich, while the sun was starting to set and the stores were beginning to close. The day was over.

He managed to trot his way back to the hotel. Warm Breeze was still behind the counter.

“Good evening, Mrs. Breeze,” Dainty said, with an involuntary smile. Just as he greeted her, he noticed a record player sitting by the wall behind the desk, currently unused.

“Good evening, Mr. Tunes! I hope everything went fine outside.”

“Oh, it did, it did,” he replied, already feeling a bit nervous. “Hey, look, I… I noticed you have a record player there.”

She instinctively looked back at it. “Yes, indeed we do! We hardly ever use it nowadays, but I believe it’s working.”

“That’s really nice. Um… I was wondering,” he said, feeling he could really be overstepping his boundaries, “is it possible if we bring it to my room, so that I could use it? I just bought a record, and I wanted to check it out.”

“That would be no problem at all, dear!” she replied. “Maybe I should wait to see if Silvery Light approves, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“You’re sure? Could I take it now?” Dainty said.

“Yes, yes, of course,” she replied with a smile, going off to push the small table with the player towards the corridor.

“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Breeze!” Dainty said. “I really appreciate this.”

“Never mind, my dear,” she said, as he helped her move the table towards his room. “I just feel the need to ask you, if you please, don’t put the volume too loud, so as not to disturb the neighbours and the other guests?”

“Of course!” Dainty replied, widening his eyes a little. “Yes, of course, I don’t mean to disturb anyone. I’ll be careful.”

“Well, that’s lovely, then,” she said, heading back to the desk. “Enjoy your record, dear!”

“Thank you,” he said, opening the door and pushing the table inside.

Even though the room was small, he managed to fit the player next to the wardrobe, and plugged the player in a socket near the floor. He closed the door and carefully pulled the record out of his saddlebag, and inspected the cover carefully. He pulled out the inner sleeve, which had the track list and lyrics, and, with all the care in the world, pulled the record itself out. The smell of cardboard and the way light bounced off the black surface of the vinyl disc had an almost dizzying effect on him. He was already entranced.

Dainty put the record on the turntable, turned the device on and put the volume at a moderate level. He gently lifted the needle and, pulling it to the side a little, set the record spinning. He rested the needle at the edge of the disc and sat back, eagerly waiting.

A gentle wash of drums and stringed instruments filled the room and his ears. A swinging rhythm and a melodic jangle from the guitars and mandolins made his heart beat a little faster. Deep Voice’s singing cut right through the mix, rich and full, navigating the notes of the melody with force and grace, drenching each single word with meaning, modulating between anguishing and soothing. The song talked about loss, confusion, forgiveness and redemption. And then, after the singing stopped, the band launched into a lightning fast rhythm, guitars sparkling and drums snapping away with brisk energy.

Dainty had never heard anything like that. His jaw hung open, his eyes almost didn’t blink. He couldn’t believe his ears. He had seen magic before, but he had never heard it. That was magic in musical form.

The album progressed through a bunch of different songs; some were forceful and angry, some were gentle and soothing, some were plaintive and longing. Dainty sat still before the record player, almost not moving a muscle, until the needle reached the run out groove. As if snapped out of a trance, he got up to flip the record and play it, and went back to his position as the music restarted.

Dainty couldn’t help but notice that, no matter what feelings and sentiments the band were putting into each song, the music seemed to be filled with love and genuine emotion. Slowly, he realised: this is what he wanted to do all along. This is everything he could ever hope to be as a musician.

Dainty Tunes put the record on again, from the beginning, and lay in bed reading his new book. He wouldn’t be able to finish it in one night, but he could glean some interesting information about the band. It went further into the background of the band members: most of them hailed from relatively wealthy families, and even though that made life a little easier for them, that didn’t compensate for the boredom of their surroundings. Music and art were their true saviours. Deep Voice, in particular, was an avid reader and a devourer of music; thanks to their privileged families, they had knowledge about things happening all around Equestria, the hottest new bands, the hippest authors, the craziest fashions.

Deep inside, however, Deep Voice was a complicated pony. He fell in and out of relationships with other ponies, and he was extremely sensitive to things happening around him. He could go from pure euphoria and excitement for his music straight into deep sadness and disillusionment with the current events. He could be a kind, funny, smart friend on one day, and a manipulative, sarcastic meanie on the other. In one concert, he’d be firing on all cylinders and putting on the best show of the lifetime of the ponies in the audience; in the other, he’d get upset with the crowd’s lack of manners and do the whole show lying on the floor, barely acknowledging the audience at all.

Yet, when it came to the music, everything was a legitimate team effort. Everypony would bring in ideas and help build the songs together, often in the studio itself, piecing together different sections, working out chord changes and melodies, figuring out how each song would go. After Rocky Rumble left, the band got even more tightly knit as a trio, and even though Deep Voice ended up taking the forefront, they really worked as a unit.

All of this explained how the music could be so entrancing and diverse, while being constantly so truthful: it was the product of a group of musicians who truly believed in art and worked hard for it, and the emotions and ideas expressed by the lyrics came from a pony who wore his heart on his sleeve, even if it could hurt him.

After listening to the record and reading the book all night, he put the book on the table next to the bed, and got up to put the record away, placing it on top of his suitcase, away from the window. He went to bed, hoping the next day would bring more surprises.

Dainty’s mind was hazy when he woke up the next morning. It was clear and sunny outside, and he had important things to do, but it still took a while for him to push himself out of bed.

In the lobby, Silvery Light stood behind the desk. On the other side of the room, on a table, breakfast was served. It had coffee and tea, bread with a few choices of spread, cakes and other delicacies Dainty couldn’t see from far away. A couple of middle aged ponies had their breakfast and chatted, sitting in a pair of chairs in a corner.

“Good morning, Mr. Light!”

“Oh, hello, there, Mr. Tunes,” the old pony replied. “You came just in time for breakfast.”

“Ah, yes, lucky me! It looks lovely,” Dainty said, approaching the table. “Uh, by the way, I meant to ask… Was the music in my room too loud last night?”

Silvery Light looked aside for a moment, as if pulling from his memory, and then shook his head. “No, not at all. I could hear it a little, but it wasn’t louder than the noise from outside.”

“Oh, glad to know!” Dainty said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “I didn’t mean to cause any disturbance, so I’ll keep up like that.”

“Was that some kind of rock music you were listening to?” the old pony said, with an emphasis on the word “rock” that suggested it was a foreign concept to him.

“Uh… it was, yes. It’s a band called The Town Troop. I’m learning more about them.”

“Town Troop,” Silvery Light said, with some reminiscence. “One of my sons was a big fan of them. In fact, the kids went crazy for that band back in that time. They were all the rage. Nowadays, everypony seems to have forgotten about them.”

“Yes, it’s true,” Dainty said, sitting down with his coffee and a piece of bread. “It’s crazy how things come and go.”

“I think kids just need to come up with new things to entertain themselves,” Silvery said, “even if it doesn’t last. It’s a phase. We grow older and settle on… more stable things. A family, a business… You think of creating a steady life for yourself when you’re old. And that’s how life goes. If you’re in the age for enjoying that kind of music, you should enjoy it while it lasts, son. Make the most of it.”

Dainty nodded, caught in sudden thought. “Yes… Sure, I’ll do my best, Mr. Light.”

He couldn’t help but ponder about that as he had his breakfast. Could his passion for music be a passing phase? Was it just a result of his—relatively—young age, and his need to find something to spend his extra energy on? He hoped this wasn’t the case. If he eventually felt the need to settle down, he still wished to have music as a reliable companion, somehow.

Eventually, he got back to his room to get his saddlebag, and returned to the streets. His hunt for records was beginning again.

One thing that kept buzzing in Dainty’s head is that Shimmering Chord owned a record store. If he could find it, it would be pretty much a jackpot. He knew it was called Let’s Rock! records, and, maybe if he asked around in other stores, he might be able to find it.

The first shop he visited was a little smaller than the ones from the previous day, and he had no luck. One of the clerks gave him a vague direction to where the Let’s Rock! shop was, and Dainty headed there.

On the way, he encountered a large, apparently very fancy store, called Untouched Records. He waltzed in, and was greeted with some fairly loud electronic music, and plenty of posters of the hottest new releases. A bit dazzled, he found the rock section, a little isolated from the others, and started flipping through. Eventually, he struck a treasure: their second record, which happened to be their biggest hit. The cover was minimal, with the band’s name written in red over a plain brown background.

As he lifted the record, he noticed a male pony next to him scoff and shake his head. Dainty frowned, wondering if that was aimed at him. Trying to ignore the temporary distraction, he flipped the record cover to check out the track listing. One track title looked familiar: Lost Time. He remembered that being part of the lyrics of the song Steel Strings sang that night.

“Oh, cool,” he exclaimed to himself.

“Those guys suck,” the pony next to him said.

Dainty looked at him with an oblique smile. “Did you say that to me?”

“Yeah, I did,” the pony said. He was a pegasus with a blue coat and a slick black mane, and he wore a dark jacket. “That band sucks.”

“Sorry, but, I didn’t ask,” Dainty said, shaking his head at the fact he had to say something so glaringly obvious.

“Just giving you friendly advice,” the pony insisted. “I’d throw that thing away if I were you.”

“Why do you think they’re so bad?”

The pegasus gave a weighty sigh. “My eldest sister used to worship those guys. She wouldn’t stop listening to them. I mean, actually, her friends wouldn’t shut up about that band. They said Deep Voice was a ‘genius’, oh, a ‘poet’ and a ‘prophet’, but, really? All he did was copy other bands, like The Healing and Jolly Section. And he wasn’t even a good lyricist, like, his lyrics don’t rhyme, they’re rambling and don’t mean anything. And they were so overplayed! It’s no wonder everypony got sick of them, and thank Celestia for that!”

Dainty could barely react. He couldn’t help but find it odd how that pony had such strong, intense feelings of dislike for a band. It seemed like a waste of emotion.

“Well,” he said, unsure what to say, “okay, but I like them anyway.”

The pony shrugged, like he was trying to be comical. “Suit yourself, buddy.”

Dainty pondered for a second and did exactly that: he grabbed the record and headed for the counter.

He explored the record stores as he trotted along the sidewalks, avoiding all those ponies that either rushed by in a frenzy, or casually strolled as if nopony else was around. In every store, he asked for directions to the Let’s Rock! shop, and felt he was getting closer. He wasn’t having much luck with finding more records, though. He sometimes felt he should just ask if they had anything by the band in stock, but he started to feel he’d be mocked or even hostilised.

He kept thinking about that pony’s diatribe in the other shop. He was okay with ponies liking different things and having differing opinions, that was perfectly fine. Still, it was odd to have so much bottled distaste for a band that wasn’t even around anymore. At least, he could get a glimpse at some of the reasons that led to this: apparently, they had a whole legion of fans who wouldn’t stop talking about them. That could be exhausting, but then, was that even the band’s fault? Seems unfair to dislike them because of that. Also, they sounded like other bands? Dainty was unfamiliar with how those other bands sounded, and he had just seen their names mentioned in the books he had read. But, if that’s the case, was that a problem? Everypony has their influences, and nopony starts from scratch, right?

Those thoughts buzzed around his mind like hungry flies, and he tried to focus on his main mission. At one point, he stopped to eat something, and, minutes later, he spotted the shop on the other side of the avenue. The name was written in bold red letters, and it was a large store, though not as gigantic as that Untouched Records he had been before.

Dainty crossed the avenue and went into the shop. To his surprise, most of its space was devoted to rock music. He thought to himself: should that even be surprising, considering the name of the store? Still, he was so used to seeing rock music relegated to a small section, like some sort of niche genre, that this was genuinely new to him.

Their selection of records was very rich. He had no idea there was so much rock music out there! He even found some records of very recent music, from that year and the previous one; so clearly somepony still liked that stuff very much, enough to keep the movement alive.

He wasn’t too shocked to find Town Troop records in there, though they didn’t have them all. He picked up two new records: their first, self-titled one, with a white cover and a moody, black-and-white picture of the band; and The Four Seasons, another of their most popular records. According to what he had read, he now had the full collection. He was ecstatic, and, even better, the purchases all fit his budget nicely.

He paid for the records and stored them neatly in his saddlebag. Categorically, his mission was complete.

Dainty decided to head back to the hotel and put the records away, as it wasn’t safe to just go carrying them around the streets like that. He was very curious to hear them, but he had the whole afternoon, and he felt he wanted to know and experience the town a little more. He could listen to the albums in the evening, where there would be little else to do.

Even though he enjoyed strolling around the place and seeing the huge diversity it had to offer, with its fancy buildings, brash and bold advertisement, and a flurry of all kinds of pony imaginable, he just kept thinking about how little he wished to live in a place like that. He figured that the noise would make it impossible for him to even think of music, and it felt like there would be no place for him to stay a little alone—let alone his own house, but that could get tiresome eventually. Ponyville seemed so much more friendly in that respect.

He went out for dinner as the evening began to fall, and made his way back to his room. He started to examine his records and put them to play, letting the music fill his ears as he read the liner notes and lyrics sheets. He started in chronological order: their first record felt a little drier and more stark, with a kind of furious creativity that sparked in every song. The second record was better, more subtle and colourful, but the sound was still a little rough around the edges. The third record, The Four Seasons, was the most well done of them all, with a pristine, crystal clear sound, and songs that flowed with lyricism and melodic beauty.

Dainty repeated the ritual from the previous night, reading his book while the music played. This time, he alternated the records as the night wore on, trying to let the music sink in as much as possible.

At one point, he was struck by a sudden feeling of loneliness: it seemed very few ponies were interested in that band anymore, which meant he was one of very few out there listening to that music that night. It’s not that he wanted to force other ponies to like the same things he did, but could it really be that The Town Troop had run its course? Or was it possible that many ponies only didn’t like them because they didn’t know them? In other words, if those songs started to get played again, would they attract attention? He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that the rest of the band never played that music again.

That thought kept circling in his head as he lay down to sleep, while side B of The Four Seasons quietly played on.

During breakfast, Dainty Tunes kept thinking of a very bold idea.

Everything told him that this was a very stupid idea; but then again, he had felt the trip to Manehattan would be a terrible mistake, but it turned out to be mostly a big success. Perhaps he shouldn’t judge his own ideas too harshly, but that was easier said than done. It was hard to feel encouraged when the voice of discouragement was so convincing.

He went out into the streets and made his way back to the Let’s Rock! store. He walked slowly, as he thought that, at any point, he’d give up the idea, so he could just turn back and do something else. Or, perhaps, he’d just check around the store and buy one or two more records. That was the most he could be comfortable with, considering the money he had left.
He reached the shop, and, his heart pumping hard and fast, stepped inside. He walked all the way to the counter, where a male unicorn worked. He wasn’t very young, and he wore facial hair and had an unruly light brown mane, which framed his yellowish face.

“Hi, um, excuse me?” Dainty said.

“Yes?” the pony replied, with a rather gruff voice.

“Uh… does Shimmering Chord still work here? Is there a way that I could talk to him?”

“Do you wanna leave a band demo?” the unicorn said. “You can just leave it with me and I’ll give it to him.”

“Well, actually, I believe this is something I had to talk to him myself, personally,” Dainty said, knowing how unconvincing those words sounded. “I wanted to talk to him about The Town Troop.”

The unicorn raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“I’m a musician from Ponyville, my name is Dainty Tunes, and I’m… uh, I guess you can say I’m making research on them. I came all the way here just to find out more about them.”

“Huh, really?”

“Um, yes,” Dainty said, almost feeling like that was a reason for embarrassment.

“You’re not a journalist, are you?”

Dainty rubbed the back of his neck. “No. Not at all. I’m a musician. Well, actually, I’m a construction worker, but just because I can’t pay my bills with music. Not yet, at least.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” the unicorn said. Dainty noticed his horn was glowing with magic. “I’m not sure if I should do this, but, well, you sound legit.” Then, a scribbled piece of paper floated towards Dainty. “That’s Shimmering Chord’s address. He might be home right now, so I believe you might catch him there.”

Dainty grabbed the piece of paper and read it carefully, eyes wide. “Wow… really, thanks a lot! I appreciate this! I… guess I should be going now, but thank you again.”

“No prob, buddy, and good luck.”

Dainty hailed a cab out in the avenue and gave the address to the driver. He rode a good bunch of blocks, and he noticed he was moving away from the really crowded, really busy part of the city to a more residential area. After a few turns, the car parked in front of a small brown building.

“Here we are, sir,” the driver said.

Dainty paid the fare and thanked the driver, and stood on the sidewalk, in front of the building. His heart raced harder than when he had entered the store. So much could go wrong now.

He rang the intercom. A few seconds passed, and he feared he’d never hear an answer.

“Hello?” a female voice answered.

“Um, hi,” he said, eagerly. “Hello. I wish to talk to Mr. Shimmering Chord. Is he there?”

Just then he realised how stupid that phrase sounded.

“And who are you?”

“My name is Dainty Tunes. I’m a musician from Ponyville. I wished to talk to him about The Town Troop. I’m… uh, researching the band.”

He heard some faint voices, but he couldn’t distinguish what they said.

“You don’t have an appointment with him, do you?” the female voice said.

“Well, actually, no… I just went to the Let’s Rock! shop, and they gave me this address.”

The voices chatted again in the background.

“Was it a unicorn with brown mane and facial hair that gave you this address?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

A second passed, and he heard the front door of the building being unlocked.

He reached the third floor and walked to the door of Shimmering Chord’s apartment, feeling as if he just shouldn’t be there. He knocked and waited. In a few seconds, a female pegasus opened the door. She had a short black mane, and her coat was light blue-green.

“Please, come in, Mr. Dainty Tunes,” she said, making way for him.

He took a few steps in and saw Shimmering Chord sitting in one of the two couches in the living room. He gazed at Dainty with his dark eyes and pointed nose. He had a deep, penetrating gaze, the same he had on the cover of The Discovery of Equestria. He still had the same short black mane.

Dainty stopped dead in his tracks, just now realising what was actually going on.

“Have a seat here,” Shimmering Chord said, pointing at the couch in front of him.

“Okay, thanks,” Dainty said, going over to the couch and sitting down, his eyes frozen. He could almost hear his own heart beating.

“So, you’re doing research on my band, is that it?” Shimmering said.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Dainty said, scratching his face. “I… learnt about you a couple of days ago, back in Ponyville, but I could get almost nothing about you in there, no records, almost no books… So I came here, just to know more about you, look for your music.”

“And did you like what you’ve seen?”

“Very much!” Dainty replied, his ears perked up. “I’ve listened to all your records, and they’re amazing, they’re so rich, and interesting, and so well written and…” He sighed. “Honestly, I can’t believe ponies don’t care about this music anymore. Most of them don’t seem to even know you existed. It’s a shame that such wonderful music is ignored.”

Shimmering Chord gave a careless shrug. “We had our time. That music was important back then, but those days are in the past. Ponies have moved on to newer things. That’s just how things go.”

Dainty shook his head. “I dunno, I just can’t think like that. It’s not just because this music is old that it has to be forgotten. I mean, you have never rejoined to play these songs again. You could, uh, get a good singer and go back to playing shows and bring that music out to Equestria again.”

“We can’t do that,” Shimmering Chord replied dryly. “Deep Voice is irreplaceable.”

“Oh, but, I’m not saying you should replace him,” Dainty said, a little defensively. “That’s not the point. You just needed a singer good enough to sing those songs as they were meant to, as a tribute to Deep Voice, maybe. But it’s really all about the songs! I mean, do you care about the songs?”

“Of course,” Shimmering Chord snapped. “That was some of the best work I’ve ever done. I’m proud of my days with The Town Troop. It had its problems, but it was great to go out to the public and play that music, and to go into the studio and write. And working with Deep Voice was… well, he was unique. I’ve never met anypony like him. He knew more music than every other pony I know combined. He devoured records, he knew the names of the band members, he could sing all the songs… He loved theatre, he loved poetry, he loved all that is beautiful. And yes, he could be troublesome at times, and he gave us quite a few scares… and he was temperamental, and unpredictable… One day, he’d be this super funny and friendly guy, always with something interesting to say and willing to have a good time… and the next day, he would be mean, and sarcastic, and he seemed to dislike everything and everypony. But, in reality, he was just sentimental. Everything affected him deeply. And he brought that into the songs, you know…

“I mean, we wrote most of the songs together, sometimes right in the studio. Cymbal Crash and I would bring in ideas, work out rhythms, chord progressions, lines on the guitar or the keyboards, and Rocky Rumble would do a lot of great stuff when he was with us, too. Everypony brought something to the songs. But, in the end, it was Deep Voice who took those ideas and turned them into actual songs, and what he did was just… Well, he was no unicorn, but he did magic. The melodies, the lyrics… I don’t know how he did it, but it was unbelievable. And I’m proud to say I was part of that.”

Dainty Tunes just watched him, in silence. He was profoundly moved by that first hoof account, and, if anything, he felt even more motivated in the mission that brought him to that house.

“You see, that’s exactly why I think we should bring that music back again,” Dainty said, softly.

Shimmering Chord shrugged. “If you want that, maybe you should try something yourself.”

“Well, I could make my own band,” Dainty replied. “I could find some musicians in Ponyville and get them together, and we can learn the songs and play them for everypony. I think it can be done. You’re not going to stop me, are you?”

“I have no reason to,” Shimmering Chord said, “unless you try to make money off our stuff. We wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Oh, no, of course not,” Dainty said, raising his hooves, almost offended. “I wouldn’t do that for profit! But, anyway, do I have your approval for that? Do I have your blessing?”

“I don’t think you need my blessing. If you think you’re up to the task, go out and do it. Nopony will stop you.”

“Well, thanks! This is… well, this is very important to me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it, buddy.”

Dainty glanced at the door. “Well, I… I think this is my cue to get going, then,” he said, getting up from the couch. “I won’t take more of your time.”

“It’s okay.” Shimmering Chord got up, and followed Dainty to the door. “Thank you for your visit.”

“Oh, just… before you go,” Dainty said, stopping just before reaching the door, “there’s just something I wanted to say…” He took a deep breath. “Thank you. Thank you for having made all this music, for doing something so wonderful and so meaningful. And, when you happen to talk to the guys, extend my thanks to Rocky Rumble and Cymbal Crash too… and, well, to Deep Voice, too, wherever he is.”

Shimmering Chord nodded, a hint of a smile in his face. “Sure. I’ll give it to them.”

“Okay. I’ll… see you some time, then.”

Dainty stopped halfway down the stairs. He trembled and sobbed, having just properly understood what had happened. Even though he was a complete failure at trying to convince Shimmering Chord to regroup the band (or what was left of it), he had just met him, talked to him in person. He couldn’t think of anything else.

He took a deep breath, raised his head and headed towards the exit.

Track 3: After the Beginning

That morning had gone by pretty smoothly. Dainty had packed his things, checked out of the hotel and exchanged very kind farewells with Warm Breeze and Silvery Light. He had made his way to the train station and boarded the first one that headed to Ponyville. He had read some more of his books as the train marched along, and had jumped once he was back in his hometown. He had eagerly rushed to his house, and unpacked his records.

Then, he put on The Town Troop’s first album, turned the volume up way loud, and let the music ring out with force.

Dainty danced along to the tune, jumped on bed, played air guitar, banged his head to the beat, and just let his body react however it wanted to, not caring at all whether other ponies would find him silly or ridiculous. If he was being ridiculous, it was a sincere form of ridiculousness.

As he started to get physically tired, he slowed down and started to pay attention to the musical structures of the songs: rhythms, melodies, chord progressions, lyrics. He needed to learn these songs inside and out, but this would certainly take some time.

The days progressed. On weekdays, after work, he’d go back home and study the songs. He copied the lyrics to sheets of paper and wrote down the chords, relying on his ears and on his piano. Most of the songs were harmonically simple, and he had little trouble learning the chords; the problem was the melodies, which could often be very stretched out, with little repetition. He decided the best thing to do was to focus on a few songs at a time, picking out his favourites, as well as the ones that he thought other ponies would like. He categorised the songs in three different lists: the “hits”, the “potential favourites”, and the “deep cuts”.

For the “hits”, he relied not only on his own listening, but on things he picked out from the books: Is It, Lost Time, It’s Still Early, I Know, For a While Now and others. The “potential favourites” were songs that really jumped out to him, though didn’t seem to have been huge hits back in the day: Theorem, Almost by Mistake, Wind on the Coast, Seven Cities and so on. As for the “deep cuts”, those were songs Dainty really loved, but might not be good choices as hits: For Now, I Was a Teenage Werewolf, The Vampire Theater, Twenty Nine, Waiting for Me and a bunch of others. Some songs weren’t allotted in any lists; they were good songs, but didn’t particularly stand out; they worked fine as part of the albums, though, and he liked that.

As he started to get comfortable with the songs, he started to learn to play and sing them: both on piano and on guitar. He wasn’t very confident on himself as a guitarist, while the piano just felt like his natural place: he first had to memorise the songs, and then figure out how to express them properly, with all the right nuances in his voice, the small embellishments on the piano, the proper dynamics and so on. Slowly, he amassed a chunk of songs he was confident about.

Still, if he wanted to play those songs in public, he needed something more. He needed a band. At some isolated moments, he thought that he could play them on his own, on the piano; or even on the guitar, as Steel Strings had done. But no, he thought, these songs need a proper band. They need to be fierce, bold, and full. They were made to be played by a band. Also, he didn’t think he could carry a whole show on his own; who would want to watch that? Just a single pony on a guitar playing two dozen songs? That wouldn’t work.

And so, he had to take his next step.

On the message board next to the town hall, he affixed a hoofwritten note:

“A special call for Ponyville musicians:

If you play guitar, bass guitar and/or drums and want to join a band, reach out to Dainty Tunes. We have a repertoire of about two dozen songs, with the intent of performing them in a live concert. This is not for profit, so don’t expect to get paid! You’re expected to do this in your free time, for the pure love of music. Let’s Rock!”

At the bottom, Dainty had haphazardly scribbled his address, as he had forgotten to include it in the text itself.

He had absolutely no idea whether this would work. In either case, the only thing he could do now was the worst thing to do: wait.

In the meantime, he kept working on the songs. He just kept making progressive improvements, as well as learning some more songs. He knew that he had way more songs in his hoof than he could fit into a single concert, but it was important to have options, in case some songs just didn’t work out.

Two days after he posted the message, in the evening after work, Dainty Tunes heard a knock on his door, and got up to open it.

“Oh… hi, there, Steel Strings.”

“Hey, buddy,” Steel said, his guitar case on his back. “So, I saw your request.”

“You did? That’s nice,” Dainty said. “I don’t know if you’re the first one who’s seen it, but you’re the first one to come here, so I guess that’s cool.”

“So, if I got this right, you’re trying to form a rock band, and you’ve already got a repertoire,” Steel Strings said. “Are they your own songs?”

“No, actually not. They’re all songs by The Town Troop.”

Steel made a pause. “Interesting. You want to make a cover band, then?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Dainty replied. “I, uh, I started to study their songs. I brought their albums from Manehattan, and I even got Shimmering Chord’s approval to do this, so I think it’s fair.”

He saw Steel Strings’s eyes widening. “You talked to Shimmering Chord?”

“Yeah, I did,” Dainty said, surprised at himself. “I… I actually wished he would reunite the band and go back to playing, but he was totally against it, because Deep Voice is irreplaceable… and, I mean, I agree, that’s a lofty task for anypony to take, but, well, he said that, if I wanted to try to make my own band, as long as we didn’t make money with it, it was fine. So, I wanna try it.”

“You put a lot of effort into this band, huh?” Steel Strings said. “I mean, I thought I was a fan of them, but you went all the way to Manehattan just because of them. I… guess, that’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, when you put it that way, it was a crazy thing I did,” Dainty said, looking at the floor.

“And you need a guitarist, right?”

“I do, yes.” Dainty raised his eyes to meet Steel’s eyes. “You’re thinking of joining?”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t make any sense if I didn’t, right?”

“Well, awesome! We officially have a new band member now!” Dainty said, weakly celebrating a small victory. “When do you think we can get started?”

“Are you available this evening?”

“Uh, sure!” Dainty said, taking a moment to step out of the way. “Come in.”

The pair sat down to look at the list of songs, and decide which ones to get started with. Steel Strings was very familiar with about six songs from that list, so it was an obvious choice to get started with them. Their first pick was Lost Time. Dainty sat by the piano, while Steel sat on the bed, playing the guitar and singing. The first pass had a few hiccups, but Dainty figured that was only natural for a first attempt. Still, as both knew the song very well, they played all the way to the end. Dainty felt a sudden rush of energy as the final chord faded out: that was a very, very different experience. It wasn’t at all like listening to the record or playing it on his own: Dainty was participating in it, but it was something larger than himself. There was somepony else involved, and that added a whole new layer of meaning to it. It was powerful.

“So, I think we really need to work on the tempo,” Steel Strings said. “We were kinda fluctuating a bit.”

“You noticed it?” Dainty said. “Huh, interesting. Maybe it’s because we have no drums.”

“Yeah, but we can work on that without a drummer. We just have to get tighter.”

“Okay, I guess so.”

“What do you think of my singing?”

Dainty noticed a slightly insecure tone in his voice. “I think it’s fine”

“You do?” Steel said. “I dunno, I’m never too impressed with my own singing.”

“Maybe you just demand too much of yourself. We do that, sometimes.”

“Do you wanna try singing?”

Dainty made a pause. “I don’t know… I think my voice is a bit too nasal, too gritty. It doesn’t sound smooth and full like Deep Voice sounds.”

“But you’re not trying to replace him, are you?” Steel said, almost in a scolding tone. “You don’t need to sound exactly like him. Just try it.”

They made another pass, and Dainty took the vocals this time. It went a little more smoothly than the previous attempt, and the tempo fluctuated a little less. Dainty made a few mistakes, as he had to split his attention between the keyboard and the singing, but they made it to the end just fine.

“I like your vocals way better,” Steel said. “You actually give weight to the words.”

“You think so? Well, that’s cool, I guess.”

“Yeah. Your voice might be a little nasal, but it works fine. I just think you might be straining yourself a little.”

“Straining? What do you mean?”

“Well, when you talk, your voice is more relaxed,” Steel said. “It’s like you’re pushing your vocal folds up when you sing,” he said, really making his own voice sound more nasal, “and you shouldn’t do that. You should leave your throat relaxed when you sing. It gives you more power. Try singing on your own.”

“Okay,” Dainty said, a little embarrassed, and cleaned his throat. He sang the first line of the song, trying to do what Steel had told him, and leave his throat relaxed.

“Yeah, you see? You’re not straining it as much now,” Steel said. “That’s the trick. Lower your vocal folds and really let them resonate. You’ll pick it up with time. Also, your tempo is still fluctuating. Do you practice with a metronome?”

Dainty felt a sudden embarrassment. “...well, I, uh, don’t. I don’t… have a metronome.”

“You should get one,” Steel replied, with a soft, counselling tone. “It helps a lot. I say that from personal experience. Well, do you wanna try another song?”

“Yeah, sure. What do you suggest?”

“I’m thinking of I Know. What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect. Let’s do it.”

The two of them did two passes on the song, and they felt it sounded pretty good. They started to talk about The Town Troop, discussing their music and history. Steel Strings was quite impressed with the amount of information Dainty learned from the books, and felt that could really help them get into the mood behind the song.

“You know, playing a song is not just about getting the notes and chords right,” Steel said. “It’s about delivering them. Ponies don’t just have to hear you, they have to believe you. You have to really make the song your own, and then you just forget about the chords and the words; it all becomes automatic to you, and you just focus on the meaning, which is what really matters in the end. If you play a wrong chord, it’s fine as long as you have the sentiment right; if you play all the correct notes but without feeling it, that’s unforgivable.”

“Yeah, that makes a lot of sense,” Dainty said. “I think that’s why I like this band so much: they really meant what they played.”

“I think so, yes. But don’t use that as an excuse to be sloppy, alright?” Steel said. “Get a metronome and practice. You’ll improve a lot.”

“Yes, yes, sure.”

After chatting some more, they played the two songs once more, and Steel Strings decided it was time to go home.

“I think we have potential,” Steel said, getting up. “I’ll try to talk around and recruit some more musicians. You should also get around and talk to ponies.”

“Maybe, but I don’t really know anypony who’s into music,” Dainty said. “The only place I went that attracts that kind of crowd is the Bamboo Pub, but they don’t really like The Town Troop a lot, do they?”

“Yeah, that’s not the ideal place for that,” Steel said. “Maybe just look around for music related stuff whenever it happens, and get in touch with the others. If you only stay in your house, you can’t be sure they’ll come looking for you.”

“Yes, I know… well, thanks a lot for coming, and for all the advice. That’s really helpful.”

“You’re welcome. Also, are you free tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure! You wanna show up again?”

“Sure. We have a lot of songs to go through.”

“Indeed… Well, see you tomorrow, then!”

“See ya.”

And so, Steel Strings left. Dainty felt a sudden urge of confidence, followed by a surge of pressure: he should get a metronome.

For the next couple of days, almost every evening, Steel Strings would visit Dainty Tunes, for rehearsals. In just a few days, they managed to play all the songs that Steel knew beforehoof, so Dainty started to play the records to show the other songs, and they’d study them together. For some time, they’d just stop playing and talk, discussing not only the band’s songs, but music in general, and also their lives. Dainty felt a little concerned when they started to get too personal, as he didn’t properly have a past; he’d either have to just make something up, or give vague answers, so he tried to avoid getting into that.

“I’ve been trying to generate some buzz among the ponies I know,” Steel said one evening. “I think we might be getting some new members soon, but I can’t be too sure.”

“Oh, well, that’s great,” Dainty said. “I, uh… I have to say I haven’t been able to do much of that. I’ve been hanging out in the record store during lunch breaks, but I haven’t met any musicians yet. Most ponies there just seem to be music fans.”

“Do you often go out to the town square on weekends? There are often some groups playing there,” Steel said. “We should try talking to them.”

“Yeah, that could be an idea… I figure we need a bassist and a drummer. That should be enough, right?”

“Maybe?” Steel said. “It would be good if we found somepony who plays electric guitar. I myself don’t have one.”

“Yeah, that could be good… well, we’ll just have to keep on trying, right?”

“Of course.”

That weekend, Dainty Tunes and Steel Strings both went to the town square. On Saturday, there was a trio of ponies playing some traditional folk songs. A few ponies were standing around watching, but most just passed by, occasionally bobbing their heads to the rhythm, and, even less occasionally, dropping a bit into an instrument case laid open before the stage.

“I don’t think any of those guys are into playing rock music,” Dainty said.

“Yeah, but they might know somepony who is,” Steel replied. “Let’s have a chat with them later on.”

They just hung around the town square. At one point, they got distant from each other, and Dainty spotted Steel Strings talking to a pair of ponies. He imagined they were just friends of his, but, as he tried to overhear them, he realised Steel had just met them right there. Dainty couldn’t help but wonder, with some frustration, how come some ponies just did that: they approached somepony else and managed to start a conversation, just out of the blue. How did he do that? Also, why those ponies?

That’s when he noticed one of the ponies had a bass clef as their cutie mark. A sudden realisation collapsed on him: he rarely ever noticed cutie marks at all. That’s a clue he could have gathered a long, long time ago, but he had been mostly oblivious to it.

Eventually, the conversation between the three ponies ended, and Steel Strings came back.

“So, any luck?” Dainty said.

“Well, one of them plays bass guitar, but he’s not interested in an unpaid side project right now,” Steel Strings said, not sounding very discouraged; but then again, his voice was always so calm, almost detached, and that made it hard to read anything in his tone of voice. “But he said he’ll talk to his acquaintances and see if anypony is interested. We can only hope.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Dainty replied.

Just after this, he spotted the Apple family stand a little far away, and he recognised all of those faces. By this time, Dainty had more or less forced himself to be casual whenever he crossed paths with any of those ponies; he wouldn’t just try to run away from them, nor try to get close and start a chat like best buddies. At best, he just tried to imagine what it would be like to be a regular member of the population who was aware of how important the Elements of Harmony were, but weren’t trying to be their groupies.

One particular pony stood out to him: a purple mare with fiery red mane. He had met her before, but something in his gut just told him it was better to keep a distance from her, but for fairly different reasons. If getting too close to the Elements of Harmony could mean trouble for Dainty, getting too close to that mare could mean trouble for both of them. Or so he thought.

Still, the two ponies waited for the band to stop playing, and then approached them. Steel Strings did most of the talking, and the outcome was more or less how Dainty had foreseen: none of the musicians were interested in playing in a rock band, but they were willing to pass the word around.

The next day, there was no group playing, and the square was just filled with the sound of regular day-to-day life breezing by. The two ponies still tried to do some recruiting—again, with similar outcomes.

Dainty couldn’t conceal his frustration. Not that he had ever thought this was going to be an easy matter, but he was getting sick of constantly bumping into a wall.

“We have to be patient, Dainty,” Steel said. “This will either work or it won’t. If it works, it might take a while. If it doesn’t, well… we kinda have to be prepared for failure, really.”

“I know,” Dainty said. “I mean, I know that in theory, but, in practice, it just… it’s shit, you know.”

He felt himself suddenly blushing, by the use of such vulgar language, but Steel Strings didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s just life as it is, my friend. Sometimes it’s meant to be, sometimes it isn’t. Our hope is to just keep trying.”

“Yeah, you’re right… You know, I’m really glad to have you as a companion in this,” Dainty said, “as you always manage to sound sensible and reasonable. It’s good to actually hear words of common sense from time to time, you know? I often just get this… this buzz of nasty thoughts and negative ideas and discouraging words, and you just cut through all that by being so cool and collected. It helps clear up the nonsense a little bit.”

“I’m glad to help,” Steel said. “But it’s strange to hear you talk about discouraging ideas, because you seem so motivated and full of resolve. You really want this to happen, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” Dainty replied. “I guess I’m… well, when it comes to music, I’m just like that. I want to get things done, and I really push myself. But when it comes to the whole rest… it’s a lot harder.”

“Interesting,” Steel said. “I guess music really is your passion, after all.”

“I suppose so.”

Dainty had to try to deal with his mixed feelings through the next few days: the urge to make that project happen filled him with a feverish heat which even made it hard to sleep sometimes, but the stagnation of not getting any new members also weighed on him. He felt like he was fettered by a massive weight, while his body was exploding with an irrational need to break out and fly. He couldn’t move, but he couldn’t settle either.

The first sign of change came on the evening of Tuesday.

“I talked to somepony who has an electric guitar,” Steel Strings said, just after arriving at Dainty’s house. “He said he’s willing to join.”

“Fuck yeah!” Dainty blurted out, and immediately shut his mouth. “I mean, that’s great! We’re increasing our ranks.”

“Yeah, looks like it. He said he’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Great, but, like, did you tell him what our plan is?”

“Sure, I let him know all of it,” Steel said. “He just doesn’t know the songs, so he’ll have to learn from us.”

“Okay, no problem,” Dainty said. “I already expected that. Still, it’s progress!”

“It is. So, what are we gonna do today?”

“Well, I think we’re ready to learn a few new songs, what do you think?”

“Yeah, maybe, but I think I’m not fully confident on For a While Now. I think we should nail that one first, and then we’ll move on to new songs.”

“Sure, fair enough. Let’s do it.”

The following evening, about half an hour after Steel Strings showed up, Dainty received the visit of the new guitarist. His name was Hard Fiber, and he was an earth pony with a lime green coat and light blue, wavy mane. He looked at Dainty with a casual half smile.

“Hey. Dainty Tunes, right?”

“Yup, that’s me,” he said, stepping out of the way. “Come on in. This here is Steel Strings.”

“Yeah, I know him already.”

Dainty sighed, embarrassed. “Of course. Sorry. Uh, either way, make yourself at home.”

Fiber was lugging a cart with his guitar case and an amplifier. He greeted Steel Strings with a casual, loose stance, and started to set up his equipment.

“So, what do you guys wanna do?” he said. “How are we gonna do this?”

“Well, I think we should just start going through the songs one by one, just like Steel and I have been doing,” Dainty said. “We can give you the tabs for the song, and we’ll play it to you and you try to follow. Sounds good?”

“I guess so,” Fiber replied.

“So, what if we start with Time Lost?”

“Makes sense to me,” Steel said.

Dainty gave Hard Fiber his hoofwritten sheet with the lyrics and chords. Fiber quickly noticed they were mostly just four chords over and over again, and guessed it would be easy.

“So, let’s play it?” Dainty said, sitting by the piano.

“Hold on, hold on,” Steel Strings said. “Well, when we play this song, I mostly just strum the chords, but on the record, the guitar does this arpeggio thing instead of strumming. I think Fiber should listen to how it’s done and try to do the same. What do you think?”

Dainty’s eyes shone. “Yeah, you’re right! Wow, that’s really going to make the song shine, I think.”

“I just hope it’s not too complicated stuff,” Fiber said. “I don’t know if I’m that good.”

“Well, look, you don’t have to play it exactly the same way Shimmering Chord does on the record,” Steel said. “It’s just about trying to replicate the feel of it, you know? No need to be identical.”

Dainty was already setting up the record, and the three settled down to listen. Steel Strings sat on the bed, as usual, and Hard Fiber pulled a chair for himself. Dainty just sat on the piano bench, as the song played. Hard Fiber listened closely, but his face seemed to reveal some insecurity.

Dainty lifted the needle off the record before the instrumental coda of the song, as they had previously decided they wouldn’t play that; it only made sense on the record.

“I dunno, man, that sounds kinda hard to play,” Hard Fiber said, rubbing his face.

“Yeah, just remember what I said, you don’t need to play exactly the same,” Steel replied. “Look, why don’t you try to do it? We’ll just play the four chords and you’ll try doing what you can.”

“Okay, I guess.” Fiber got up and turned on the amp.

And so, Steel Strings started to strum the four chords, and Hard Fiber tried to play along, picking out the individual notes of each chord. His beginning was a little rough, as he had trouble changing the chords and keeping up with the patterns, but he seemed to be getting the hang of it slowly. Dainty watched, bobbing his head up and down to the rhythm, and mumbling some of the lyrics as they went.

After a couple of minutes, the two seemed to be doing quite well. Hard Fiber even attempted some trickier things, like some of the slides Shimmering Chord did on the record, and they were quite locked to the rhythm.

“Okay, that’s good, real good,” Steel strings said. “Now, you remember that break in the middle, when they go to the E minor chord, and he does those harmonics? Let’s try that.”

“Yeah, I don’t really know how to play that,” Hard Fiber said.

“No, no problem, I’ll show it to you. Here, pay attention.”

Steel Strings showed him how to play that part, and, in about a minute, Hard Fiber had learnt it. And so, they started to break down the song bit by bit, clearing up each individual nuance, until they felt ready to play the whole song. Dainty sat at the piano and they started the song from the top. Hard Fiber missed a transition, and they had to stop and discuss it.

“Yeah, here on the And so serious and savage line, we go into this heavy part, with the B minor chord,” Dainty said. “You can get a little heavier on the guitar here. I sing Savage three times, and on the third, you go into the harmonics thing. It’s the same at the very end.”

“Okay, I think I got it.”

“We can listen to the record again, if you want,” Steel said.

“Yeah, good idea.”

And so, they listened to the song again, and, after it was over, they tried playing it. This time, they made it all the way to the end, and Hard Fiber even played the note bend at the very end of the song.

“That was good, buddy,” Steel Strings said. “It still needs a bit of work, but it’s not bad.”

“Yeah, like, it’s the first time I play with you, guys,” Fiber replied. “I just guess I have to try and train this at home. By the way, how often are we gonna rehearse?”

Dainty and Steel exchanged glances. “Well, we’ve been doing this almost every evening,” Dainty said, “but I guess not everypony will be always available. Just try to be here as often as you can, I guess.”

“Oh, okay, because tomorrow I have other stuff to do,” Fiber said, “but I’m available on Friday. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steel said. “It’s not like we’re in a hurry or anything.”

“So, how about we play this again?” Dainty said.

And so, they got back to rehearsing, figuring out some minor improvements along the way, and just trying to play tighter and more fluidly. The evening wore on quite quickly, and they just had enough time to start studying another song. Still, Fiber had to go home, and Steel Strings stood just a while longer, chatting to Dainty.

The next day, Dainty Tunes felt his performance at work was a little bit better, even though he had trouble waking up in the morning, as he had stood up chatting with Steel Strings for a lot longer than usual. That pony had this soft spoken, casual way of talking, but he could just go on and on about a subject and it would never get boring. It was easy to lose track of time with him.

He had said he wouldn’t show up that evening, as, since Hard Fiber wouldn’t be able to come, he’d take the opportunity to get some other things done. That evening, Dainty felt like maybe he would take a break from the music, and focus on other tasks. His house needed a bit of cleaning.

Halfway during the process, somepony knocked on the door. Furrowing his brow, he went to pick it up. It was an earth pony with a white coat and purple mane. He felt a shock, as he almost looked like Rarity, though he was a male earth pony.

“Hey, uh, are you Dainty Tunes? I heard you’re looking for musicians.”

“Oh, yes! Yes, sure I am,” Dainty said, eagerly. “Yeah. What do you play?”

“Well, I play bass, mostly, but I can also play a little bit of guitar. You are forming a rock band, right?”

“Yes, we are,” Dainty said. “And wouldn’t you know, we do need a bass player right now.”

“Oh, cool. So, what’s the band about, exactly?”

“So, yeah, um, the plan is to play covers of The Town Troop.”

“The Town Troop? Seriously?” the white pony replied, disgust in his face. “Those guys are awful. No, like, seriously. Why are you even doing this?”

Dainty’s face fell a little. He already just wanted to go back to his house cleaning. “Oh, well, I guess you’re not joining, then.”

“Oh, I can’t believe it,” the pony went on, already taking a few steps back. “The Town Troop? Dude, what a waste. Just go and play something else, will ya? You’ll never get this band off the ground. I mean, I hope you won’t.”

“Thanks for your interest, at least,” Dainty said, before the pony just turned around and walked off, still grumbling.

He closed the door and went back inside, in a mix of disappointment and shock. He understood the pony not liking the band, but actually hoping they wouldn’t succeed? He tried to go back to his cleaning, but he couldn’t get his heart into it. The pony’s words just kept echoing, and the idea of “I hope you won’t get off the ground” slowly morphed into “You won’t get off the ground”.

“Aw, fuck,” he mumbled to himself, already feeling awful for being sad. If only Steel Strings could be there.

He took a deep breath and tried to get back to work.

Throughout the next day, he tried to focus on his job and his day-to-day tasks, but his mind would just spontaneously zoom back to the visit from last night. He hated how a single conversation could pull him down so much, but he couldn’t avoid it. He didn’t understand why some ponies felt the need to be so mean-spirited. On the other hoof, could that pony be right? Maybe The Town Troop really wasn’t a good band after all. Dainty was no rock music connoisseur, so if they were just a cheap copy, he had no way of knowing. If he hadn’t been so eager and spent so much money on those records, but stopped to listen to other music and other bands out there, he could’ve made a more balanced assessment.

But what about all those things he felt when he listened to those songs? The effect the music had on him was real, it was genuine. Would it all just go away if he somehow learnt that they weren’t a good band? And what did that even mean? What made them bad, exactly?

Sometimes the minutious nature of his work would get his mind out of those spirals, but they kept coming back.

As he got home, he didn’t feel particularly eager to make music. He would have to do it, as his bandmates (imagine that, he had bandmates now) would be there to rehearse, and he had to be ready for it. Still, he didn’t feel like touching the piano for the time being.

Steel Strings arrived at around the usual time.

“Hey, there, pal,” he said, casual as always.

“Hi.” Dainty replied, closing the door as Steel made his way in.

“So, Hard Fiber said he’d come today, right? I might be misremembering it.”

“No, he should be on his way.”

Steel stopped, and turned to look at Dainty, in a more direct and profound way than he used to. “Is there something wrong, Dainty?”

He looked back at Steel, annoyed that he could be so visibly shaken. He just shook his head. “It’s nothing worth mentioning.”

“Is it something to do with the band?”

Dainty sighed. “Yeah, in a way.”

“Well, tell me, then.”

He sat on the piano bench, and Steel sat on the bed, as they used to. Dainty briefly told what happened last night.

Steel Strings stared at the door, scowling, as if he could see the white pony still standing there. “When will those ponies ever learn?” he said, almost growling. “Have they no respect? Will they ever stop insulting the band like that?” He shook his head, glancing at Dainty. “Unbelievable. Just unbelievable.”

“But that’s not what really gets me,” Dainty said, his voice wavering. “It’s just… Why does somepony actually wish that we won’t succeed? It’s already hard to get ponies to join us, and now somepony actually wants us to fail? Just because they don’t like the band? Geez, dude, just… why?”

“You see, that encourages me to make this band happen, Dainty,” Steel said, with sudden resolve. “We have to show those ponies that this music is worth listening to. It doesn’t deserve all that hate, they should quit that nonsense. We are gonna show that, Dainty.”

“But that’s not really why I’m doing this, Steel,” Dainty said, not facing him. “I honestly don’t care if somepony doesn’t like the band. Really, it doesn’t bother me. I’m not trying to change anypony’s mind. I’m doing this because… because I believe in the music,” he said. “I believe these songs have power, and I don’t think they deserve to be forgotten. I don’t expect everypony to like them, I just think… somepony might. Remember what you said at the pub that night? If one pony heard you play and liked it, it was worth it to you. That’s how I feel.”

“So why are you so hurt by what that jerk said?” Steel replied.

Dainty sighed. “Because… because it’s horrible to think that somepony will be happy if I fail,” he said. “They just can’t accept that I’m doing something that I love, and they feel the need to say it out loud. I mean, I never liked eggplant, so does that mean I should go up to an eggplant farmer and tell them, ‘hey, I hope your whole eggplant farm withers and dies’? Well, no, I don’t have that right! I should just keep my mouth shut and let ponies who like eggplant enjoy their eggplant and ponies who plant eggplant plant their eggplant and be happy with it. But, when it comes to me liking a rock band, then no, they can’t leave me alone. I mean, in Manehattan, in a record store, some random pony just told me I shouldn’t buy one of their records, because they were bad, and I should put the record back in its place. Why do they do that? Do I offend them with my musical taste?”

Steel made a pause, and then just shrugged and sighed. “I really don’t know what to tell you, Dainty. Some ponies just do weird, hurtful things, and there isn’t much we can do… But, you know, I admire you when you say you don’t mind that other ponies don’t like what we like. I just… I just wish they could hear what I hear, at least once in their lives. I just wish they listened more and judged less. But, they’re so concerned with maintaining their credibility and holding all the ‘right’ opinions, that they just don’t think with their own minds. And, you know, you didn’t let their opinion dissuade you. You liked the band, you went after their albums, and you don’t want to force them to think like you just like you don’t want to be forced to think like them. That’s really cool… So, it’s a bummer to see how one phrase can get you down.”

“Yeah, I think I just shouldn’t feel like this,” Dainty said, wiping his face. “I’m being silly. I’ll get over it. Besides, we have work to do, right? We should get to work.”

“Yes, we should.”

In reality, there wasn’t much work to do until Hard Fiber arrived. Steel Strings started to practice some scales and chords on the guitar, and Dainty thought it was a good idea to get some practice. He started to warm his voice, even though he had no idea what was the proper way to do it, and exercised his piano playing a little bit.

It took longer than expected for Hard Fiber to arrive, but he eventually got there, bringing his guitar and amp as usual. They had some casual chat while Fiber plugged in his equipment, and the trio decided the first order of business was to start with Lost Time again, just to keep it fresh.

In just a few seconds, though, it was clear that Fiber had forgotten how the opening went.

“Uh, can you show it to me again, Steel?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, with his usual tone, but Dainty felt like he could notice a hint of a glare in his eyes.

Steel Strings showed him the intro, and Hard Fiber quickly picked it up. And so, they launched into the song, but it wasn’t working quite well. Fiber had forgotten quite a few things, like the transitions and the harmonics in the instrumental interludes.

“You didn’t practice this at home, Fiber?” Steel said.

“Eh, sorry, but I didn’t have time for that. I just thought I’d still have it in my head.”

“You gotta try to practice it, buddy. Both of us do,” he said, pointing at Dainty.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll try.”

It took them a few passes, but the song seemed to be back in shape. Dainty took a discreet breath of relief when they did the final pass, thinking it was all fine.

Then, they moved on to the next song, Almost by Mistake, which they had barely touched two days prior. Hard Fiber had forgotten pretty much everything about it, so they had no choice but to start from scratch.

Still, Dainty felt they were making progress. The rehearsal flowed smoothly, and it didn’t get boring to play the same song several times. When they felt confident with that song, they listened to some more songs from the record, mostly to decide which one to choose next, as Fiber wouldn’t stay long enough to get started on another song. Dainty prepared some tea for the three of them, and they chatted a little longer before Fiber grabbed his equipment and left.
Dainty looked at Steel, feeling he was regaining his confidence.

“Hard Fiber is lazier than I remembered,” Steel said.

“Lazy?” Dainty said, furrowing his brow. “You really think he’s lazy?”

“He forgot almost everything I showed him. He didn’t practice.”

“Yeah, well, but that’s not necessarily laziness, you know,” Dainty said. “We don’t know how his life out there is.”

“Come on, do you think he couldn’t spare a little bit of time to practice the stuff he learnt?” Steel insisted. “I’ve been practicing. You’ve been practicing. And yeah, I can see that because you bought the metronome, and your timing has become tighter since we began.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you’re right, Steel, but I think it’s early for us to start talking like this,” Dainty said. “It’s the second time he’s played with us. Maybe he just needs to get the hang of it.”

“Well, I hope so. Otherwise, we’ll be in trouble.”

Dainty paused for a moment, and gave a sad smile. “Well, it’s not like we’re in a super good position right now, is it?”

“I guess,” Steel said, with a hint of a smile, and made a pause. “So, you’re feeling better now?”

“A little, yes,” Dainty said, sitting on his bench. “The music just made me feel better again.”

“That’s a good sign. That means you’re feeling it, buddy. The music gets into your heart.”

“Well, of course. I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise, you know?”

“Yeah,” Steel said. “I just hope whoever joins us feels the same.”

Dainty nodded. “Hopefully.”

The next day, Dainty left his house to shop for some groceries. There would be no rehearsal that evening, as Hard Fiber would also not be available.

As he came home, he spotted a unicorn knocking on his door. She had a soft blue coat and a blond, short straight mane, and apparently she had been knocking for a while, as she was just about to leave.

“Hey, wait!!” Dainty called out, rushing towards her, which was made difficult because all that he was carrying in his saddlebags.

The unicorn turned to him and waited.

“Oh, hey,” she said with a soft, penetrating voice. “You’re the pony who lives here?”

“Yes, that’s right,” he said as he slowed his pace and walked towards her. “Did you come because of the band?”

“Yeah, I did. I heard some friends talking about this band, and I thought I’d give it a try. I play bass guitar.”

“Bass guitar? Excellent!” he said, his enthusiasm suddenly dying a little as he recalled the conversation he had with the white pony a few days ago. “We are in need of a bassist, but, well, it also depends if you want to play our kind of music.”

“Well, they said it was a rock band,” she said. “I’ve played in rock bands before… well, two of them… and we never performed live… but I guess I have a bit of an experience.”

“Wow, that’s cool, that’s really cool,” Dainty said, still trying to keep his composure. “Thing is, we’re forming a cover band. We’re going to play songs by The Town Troop.”

“The Town Troop,” she said, holding her chin, looking to the side. “I’ve heard of them. Don’t think I’ve ever listened to their songs, but the name is familiar.”

“And you don’t dislike them?”

The unicorn shrugged. “I’ve never heard them. Why should I dislike them?”

Dainty rubbed the back of his neck, with an awkward smile. “Well, eh… some ponies seem to have very strong feelings about them, so I just really needed to check. Well, uh, we’re gonna get together tomorrow in the evening for a rehearsal, so you can come over and join us, and you can see what you think.”

“Sure, that will do,” she replied. “By the way, you’re Dainty Tunes, right? I’m River Mouth, by the way.”

“Oh, nice to meet you,” he said. “Yeah, I’m Dainty, that’s me. Well, thanks for your interest, I guess! I’m really eager to see how we’ll get along tomorrow.”

“Yeah, me too,” River replied. “By the way, how are you learning the songs? You guys have the records?”

“Well, I have them, and we just listen to the songs in here and go along. I’ve actually pretty much learned them all already, but I have to show them to the other two.”

“So they don’t listen to the songs at home?”

Dainty pondered for a moment. “Actually, no. I guess since we’re learning them slowly, one by one, I don’t think it was ever needed. If you want, though, I can lend you the records.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” River said, with some surprise. “That’s really cool. But yeah, I can try to learn the songs until tomorrow night.”

“Excellent,” he said, opening the door and going inside to drop his saddlebags on the kitchen table. “Uh, come in, come in.”

She stepped inside, taking notice of his piano and some instruments hanging on the walls. Dainty grabbed a bag he had received from one of the record stores he had been in, and went to his records to show which songs they had been rehearsing. Then, he put the records in the bag and gave it to her.

“Just remember to bring them tomorrow, alright?” he said. “We might need to listen to the songs during the rehearsal.”

“Of course,” River replied. “I’ll return them to you when I’m done.”

“Great. Oh, and also,” he said, quickly reaching the desk next to the piano to get the lyric and chord sheets. “These are the tabs, in case you need them. They might be helpful.”

“Okay, this is great,” she said. “You’re quite organised, I like that.”

He gave a sheepish smile. “Sometimes I think I’m too methodical, but, well, it works, I guess.”

“If it works for you, that’s what really counts,” River replied, putting the sheets inside the bag. “Well, I‘ll see you tomorrow in the evening, then? In your house?”

“Yep. We’ll be waiting!”

“Fine. See you, then,” she said, bringing the bag along with her by magic, and walked out the door.

Dainty took a deep, satisfied breath as she watched her leave, and closed the door. Things were looking good again.

The following evening, Steel Strings showed up in his usual time, and Dainty gave him the good news.

“Her name is River Mouth,” Dainty said. “Do you know her?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Steel replied. “But, if she’s played in bands before, that’s a great thing.”

“Yes, exactly. Also, she took some of my records home to learn the songs,so, you know, she seems to be dedicated.”

“Looks like a really lucky find,” Steel said. “I hope we get along with her.”

River Mouth arrived about ten minutes later, bringing her bass guitar and an amp. Dainty introduced her to Steel Strings, and the two exchanged brief greetings.

“Oh, here are your records, by the way,” she said, pulling a bag from the cart with the instruments. “Thanks a lot. That bass player is pretty interesting, he does some cool things.”

“Really?” Dainty said. “I admit I didn’t pay a lot of attention to the bass playing, but next time I listen, I’ll hear more closely. So, did you learn the songs?”

“Yeah, I think I did,” River replied. “I played along with them at home.”

“And did you like them?”

“Yeah, they’re okay. I think I can play them without getting sick.”

Dainty and Steel fell silent, and exchanged slightly worried glances.

“I mean… I guess you must be fans of the band, right?” she said.

“Pretty much, yes,” Steel said, a little dry.

“Yeah, like, I’m not dissing them or anything,” River replied, a little nervous. “What I mean is, the stuff that I like to play is a little different, you know? That band’s not the stuff I’d listen to for pleasure. But they’re good, they wrote good songs. Besides, playing with a band is always a chance to learn something new, so I look forward to this.”

“Sure, that works for me!” Dainty replied, trying to lighten the mood. “I just, like, I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t like.”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” she said. “If I thought I wouldn’t like it, I’d have said so. But I’m good.”

As usual, it took a while longer for Hard Fiber to arrive. When he got there, the other three ponies were all warming up, and he was already surprised to hear the deep notes of a bass guitar as he approached the house.

“So we have a new member?” he said, after Dainty greeted him. “Cool!”

“Yeah, meet River Mouth, our new bassist,” Dainty said, with clear pride. “This is Hard Fiber, our lead guitarist.”

“Hey, nice to meet you, Fiber,” she said, turning her attention back to the bass.

“Yeah, same, River,” he replied, bringing in his equipment. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“Well, since we now have a bassist, I think we should play the songs we already know. Then, if we have time, we can move on to other songs.”

“Okay, so we begin with… it’s Lost Time, right?” Fiber said, plugging in his amp.

“That’s it,” Dainty said, sitting by the piano.

Fiber went on preparing his instrument, while the others kept warming up and chatting. Steel Strings noticed Fiber was training some of his parts for the song, and clearly he hadn’t fully learned them yet. He tried not to scowl at him, and just focused on his scales.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Fiber said at last.

“Aren’t we gonna wait for the drummer?” River Mouth said.

The other three ponies turned to look at her, in awkward silence.

“... you don’t have a drummer, I guess?”

“Not yet, sadly,” Dainty said. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no, I… I was just wondering,” she said. “Anyway, I’m ready when you are. Lost Time, right?”

“Yep. Okay, Fiber, let’s get this started.”

In a few seconds, the arpeggios of the song filled the room. River Mouth started playing right on cue, and Dainty and River played the first chord, compensating for the lack of the drum hit. They launched into the song proper, and Dainty quickly noticed that River Mouth’s playing was on point. She had a good sense of rhythm and knew her bassline. The only pony who made a few hiccups was Hard Fiber, but nothing that really interrupted the song.

Even though Dainty was focused on playing and singing, he tried to pay attention to what he heard. The sound of the band was a little bit wonky, but he figured it was a matter of rehearsing more. Also, something sounded off, but he couldn’t quite put his hoof on it. They played all the way to the end, and River played all the transitions correctly, even adding a few flourishes that Dainty recalled hearing on the record. She had indeed done her homework.

“Well, that was good,” Hard Fiber said. “It makes so much difference to have a bass!”

“It does,” Steel Strings said. “Did anypony feel like the song slowed down in the second half?”

“Yeah, it did,” River Mouth said. “I was trying to pick up the pace, but you didn’t follow, so I just went along.”

“I admit I didn’t notice,” Dainty said, pondering. “Maybe it was my fault.”

“I was just following the two of you,” Fiber said, pointing to Dainty and Steel.

“Yeah, we have to pay attention to that,” Steel said. “Speeding up a little is okay, but not slowing down. It kills the mood.”

“Should we use the metronome, maybe?” Dainty said.

“No, bad idea,” Steel replied instantly. “We’ll have no metronome when we play live. We have to have the rhythm inside us. I think River Mouth had it, so, if in doubt, just follow her.”

“Okay, I’ll try,” Dainty said. “I’m sorry for that. You wanna try again?”

The three ponies agreed, and they launched into the song again. Perhaps because of the criticism last time, the song’s tempo was a bit more brisk, but both Dainty and Fiber tried to be careful not to lose the beat.

As they finished, Steel gave a brief chuckle. “We were a bit fast this time.”

“I think it sounded cool,” Fiber said.

“I believe we should try to follow what’s on the record,” Dainty said. “Like, we don’t have to sound identical, just… try to approximate it.”

“I agree,” River Mouth said. “But we don’t know how they sounded when they played live, do we? I mean, that song doesn’t have an acoustic guitar on the record, but it sounds fine with it.”

“Sure, maybe we can experiment a little bit,” Dainty said. “But, if the song is too fast, it doesn’t really breathe, and if it’s too slow, it loses energy. We just have to find the balance.”

“So, we’ll do it again?” Fiber said.

“Maybe we should move on to the next one,” Dainty said, a hoof on his chin. “Just so we don’t get tired. So, it’s Almost by Mistake.”

“I don’t know if I remember everything,” Fiber said, “but yeah, let’s do it.”

“Do you need to remember any parts?” Steel said, with some weariness in his voice.

“Yeah, like, there’s… a thing he does after the second chorus, right? Like, a little melody thing?”

“Yes. You don’t remember how it goes?”

“Let me see if I do.”

Fiber tried playing it, but it wasn’t right. Dainty and Steel showed it to him on their respective instruments, and, after a moment, he had learnt it.

“So, this song has a long instrumental ending, right?” River said. “How many measures do you play?”

Dainty scratched his mane. “Actually, we didn’t decide that. I don’t remember how many times they play it on the record.”

“I think maybe we can cut it a little short,” she replied. “It doesn’t need to be that long when we play it live.”

“I like that instrumental,” Dainty said. “Maybe we can just try playing it and decide along the way.”

“But how do we know when to stop?” River said.

“Well, I can give you a count. I’ll count to four, and that’s when we go to the ending.”

“That’s fine in rehearsals,” Steel said, “but, if we play that live, we have to know beforehand.”

“Guys, we don’t even have a drummer yet,” Fiber said. “Why are you so worried about playing live?”

“Because someday we will, Hard Fiber,” Steel said, with a hint of frustration in his voice. “We have to prepare ourselves. We’re not just going to rehearse forever.”

“Okay, so, how about this: I’ll give you the cue to when we should go to the ending, and then we’ll discuss how many measures we should play more or less. We can always change it as we go. Is that fair?”

“It’s fine by me,” Fiber replied.

“Sure,” Steel said.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” River said.

“Okay, then,” Dainty said. “This one starts with you, Steel.”

He made a count and played the first chords. Dainty and Fiber soon joined, and River Mouth jumped in after the intro. Fiber’s playing was rough around the edges, but it was acceptable. Dainty noticed River added flourishes on the bass that he didn’t recall hearing on the record, but he was focused on singing. On the second and final chorus, Fiber managed to play his guitar melody correctly, and they launched into the instrumental ending. Dainty tried to keep count of how many times they repeated the chords, and, once he was satisfied, he made a count from one to four. They went into the ending, and Steel played the final, brief chord, and everything fell silent.

“Well, that wasn’t bad,” Dainty said. “I liked the energy.”

“It was alright,” Steel said. “Just needs to get tighter.”

“Did I miss a chord?” River Mouth said. “I heard something odd in the second verse.”

“I played a wrong chord,” Dainty said. “My bad.”

“Oh, no problem.”

They played the song once again, and then tried Lost Time for a third time. They still had some time remaining, so Dainty suggested they pick another song.

“I’m up for it,” Fiber said. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“I was thinking of Is It,” Dainty said. “Let me get the record.”

He proceeded to distribute copies of the tabs to the three, and started to prepare the record.
“I don’t think it’s a complex song, and it’s short,” he said. “I think we’ll nail it quickly.”

“Dainty,” Fiber said, furrowing his brow. “I think there’s a mistake here.”

“Really?” he replied, putting the disc on the turntable.

“Yeah, it says here that it’s in the key of C, but there’s a B flat in here.”

“Yeah,” Dainty said. “So?”

Fiber made a pause. “There’s no B flat in the key of C. Did you get the chord wrong?”

“No. I checked it on the piano.”

“But, like, doesn’t that sound wrong? The chord is not in the key!”

“Let’s just listen to the song, you’ll hear it yourself,” Dainty said.

“Also, here, where it’s written G/B,” Steel said, “what does that mean?”

“That’s a G major chord with a B on the bass,” Dainty said. “I guess you two can just play regular G, and River plays a B. Basically the guitarists look at the letter to the left of the slash, and River looks at the letter to the right. It’s just that.”

He smiled at his own wit, while the others just nodded.

“Okay, let’s listen to the record, then.”

They listened to the song, which was indeed rather short. Dainty couldn’t help quietly sing along, while River Mouth followed with her hoof on the strings, without playing.

“So? What do you guys say?” Dainty said.

“It sounds pretty tricky,” Fiber said. “There’s some guitar stuff that I need to learn.”

“Well, let’s do it now. Do you think you can help him, Steel?”

“We’ll have to figure it out together,” he said. “Can you play the solo on the intro?”

“I think… I don’t remember how it goes.”

“Oh, here you go,” Dainty said, and played the melody on the piano.

They slowly figured the song out, but they ran out of time before they could make a full pass. Both Fiber and River had to leave.

“Shame you have to go,” Dainty said, “but let’s try to pick up from where we stopped. Can you guys come tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I can,” River replied, while she put away her amp.

“Me too,” Fiber said.

“I’m free too,” Steel said.

“It’s just a shame that we have no drummer yet,” River said. “Why don’t we just hold an audition?”

“An audition?” Steel said. “Isn’t that too ambitious?”

“Well, the band is almost complete,” she said. “All we need is a drummer. I think just having a request by the town hall is not good enough. We should really call ponies to come and try.”

“But could we hold an audition here?” Dainty said. “Will each pony have to bring their own drums?”

“I have a friend who works in the theater,” River said. “I think I can get her to arrange some time for us. If I recall correctly, they have a drum kit in there. We could ask to use it. Then, we’ll just spread posters and requests all over Ponyville, you know, make something big. The band’s getting real by now. We’re serious about this, aren’t we?”

“I am dead serious, you can count on that!” Dainty said.

“I think it can be done,” Steel Strings said, “as long as we can talk to your friend.”

“I’ll get in touch with her,” River said. “I’ll keep you guys up to speed.”

“Well, I’ll be waiting, then,” Dainty said. “If you want me to go along to talk to her, just let me know.”

“Yeah, we’ll talk about it.”

She and Hard Fiber finished putting away their equipment, said their farewells and left. Steel stood behind.

“She’s pretty awesome, isn’t she?” Dainty said.

“Her playing is kinda busy,” Steel replied, “and a little mechanical, but she keeps time really well. And she’s proactive.”

“Yeah. Oh, I just realised, I forgot to ask if any of them wanted to borrow the record.”

“We’ll have to listen to it again, anyway,” Steel said. “I’m sure Hard Fiber will have forgotten everything anyway, and I doubt he’d study the song at home. River seems to be a fast learner, so no point in having her study if Fiber will have to learn it all tomorrow.”

“You’re really not getting along with him, are you?” Dainty said. “I don’t want you guys to fight. I need you both.”

“I just wish he’d be more dedicated,” Steel said. “But I guess we’ll have to do with what we have.”

In the next few days, the band managed to get in touch with the ponies in the theater, and they arranged an afternoon to hold an audition. It was set for about ten days later, so Dainty and his bandmates had time to promote the event and generate interest. They created posters in Dainty’s house and spread it around Ponyville, and also chatted to ponies from the music circles to make the news spread. They needed buzz.

In the meantime, they kept rehearsing the songs. They knew they couldn’t rely on their potential drummers knowing the songs beforehand, so they had to be able to play them well, so the drummer could try to play along.

Slowly, they expanded their repertoire of songs. One of those evenings, after playing For a While Now, Steel made a comment:

“It gets hard to hear your vocals at times, Dainty. You should consider getting a microphone.”

“Really?” he replied. “You think that’s necessary?”

“Dainty, we’re playing without a drummer, and your voice already gets drowned out,” Steel said. “Once we have drums playing along, we won’t hear anything.”

“Yeah, it makes sense,” Dainty replied. “But what about your acoustic guitar? It’s also gonna get drowned out.”

“It has a pickup,” Steel promptly replied, showing him the input at the bottom of the body. “I’m just not plugging it in yet because it’s not necessary, but it will soon be.”

“Okay, yeah, I guess I’ll get myself a mic.”

Dainty did exactly that the next day, buying a microphone and a stand. He couldn’t buy one of the best ones, but he figured it should be enough for rehearsals.

On their next evening, Dainty mounted the mic so that he could play the piano and sing, but he found it very challenging.

“I feel like I can either sing into the mic or play piano, but not both at the same time,” he complained.

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it, Dainty,” Hard Fiber said.

Steel Strings had other ideas in his mind, but he wasn’t confident about saying it yet.

Finally, the day of the audition arrived. Dainty and Steel were the first ones to arrive at the theatre on that Saturday afternoon. They talked to the manager, and proceeded to start assembling the equipment.

“Just take extreme care with that drum kit, alright?” the manager said. “It’s a delicate instrument.”

“You can count on us!” Dainty replied with a smile, and glanced at Steel Strings with some concern. Steel just shrugged.

River Mouth arrived soon afterwards, and helped bring the drum kit to the stage. Her magic made things much easier for the two earth ponies. Hard Fiber, as usual, arrived later, and started to set up his equipment.

“We have a couple of minutes until the audition begins,” Dainty said. “Let’s play something to warm up?”

“I suggest we do For a While Now,” Steel said.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” River replied.

And so, Dainty made a count, and they launched into the song. Just as the sound filled the theatre, Dainty shivered: they sounded so massive, full, powerful. Once he heard his own voice reverberating off those walls, he was shocked by his own power.

They played two more songs, and just after they were done, the manager approached the stage.

“Are you ready to begin? I can call the first one for you.”

“Yes, please,” Dainty said.

The manager trotted through the front door, and, within a few moments, a young pegasus with a maroon coat rushed down the aisle towards the stage. His unruly brown mane bounced along as he stared at the stage.

“So you’re the first one?” Dainty said, trying to sound welcoming.

“Uh, yes, I am,” the pegasus replied, with a creaky voice.

“Alright, come up and take your seat.”

The pegasus used his wings to lift himself towards the stage, and walked to the drum kit. He had brought his own drumsticks, as requested, and took a moment to feel at ease in his instrument.

“So, what’s your name?” Dainty said.

He was still fumbling about a little with the drums. “Uh, hold on… I’m Honey Drop,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Honey Drop. I’m Dainty Tunes, and these are Steel Strings, Hard Fiber and River Mouth.”

Honey Drop tested the toms and the snare drum. “So do you have a name? Like, the band?”

The four ponies exchanged glances. “Not yet,” Steel Strings. “We can choose one once the line up is complete.”

“Okay, so, how is this gonna work?”

“So, Honey Drop, do you play rock music?” Dainty said.

“Well, kind of, I guess,” he replied.

Steel and River exchanged glances.

“And have you ever heard any songs by The Town Troop?”

“Uh, no,” Honey Drop replied. “I have no idea who they are, really.”

“Well, what we can do is, we’ll start playing a song, and you just try to join,” Dainty said. “The rhythms aren’t really complicated, it’s all four on four, kick, snare, kick, snare. No need to do anything fancy, we just wanna hear how you gel with us. Alright?”

“Yeah, okay, I guess that’s fine,” Honey replied.

Dainty looked at the others. “So, let’s do For a While Now? I think that’s easy enough.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Hard Fiber said.

Dainty made the count, and they started the song. Honey Drop listened for a few measures, bobbing his head up and down to the beat, in deep concentration. Just before Dainty started to sing, he came in, playing a simple pattern on the kick and snare, hitting the closed hi hat on eighth notes.

Steel exchanged glances with his band members: they were all making nervous faces.

Honey Drop’s rhythm was all over the place. He could more or less follow the rhythm of the song, but his notes never landed on the right place. He sounded hesitant, and, just looking at his movements, it was clear he wasn’t very confident with the drum kit: his hoof joints weren’t firm, he hit the drum heads sloppily, and he sometimes tried to do some fills and just completely lost track of the rhythm. In short, it was a disaster.

The band trudged on all the way to the end of the song, and Honey played a few extra notes, as he wasn’t expecting the song to end. Silence filled the theatre.

“So, um, Honey Drop,” Dainty said, already trembling with embarrassment, “for how long have you been playing?”

“Uh, a month,” the pegasus replied.

A sudden expression of understanding showed up on the other four faces.

“Okay,” Dainty replied, nodding. “Well, you’ve sure got potential. Just make sure to keep on practicing. Pay attention to the tempo. Do you play along with a metronome?”

Honey Drop frowned. “What is that?”

“Well, ask for it at a music shop and they’ll show you, but it will help you. Anyway, thank you a lot for your time, and, if we’re interested, we’ll get in touch, alright? Just leave your name and address on the book by the exit.”

“Okay, okay,” Honey Drop said, lowering himself down to the aisle.

“Also, can you please call the next one once you’re out?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks a lot!”

Dainty looked at the other three and shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll get better.”

“I gotta say, I admire his courage,” Steel Strings said. “With just one month of practicing, I’d never show up at an audition.”

“Um, hey?” Honey Drop called out from the door. “There’s… There’s nopony else here.”

Dainty’s jaw hung open, his glassy eyes staring at the young pegasus. Hard Fiber and River Mouth exchanged glances. Steel Strings took a deep breath.

The band still had a fair amount of time reserved for them in the theatre, so they thought they’d do the best with what they had. Honey Drop sat at the drums, just hitting the hi hat, as Dainty counted from one to four and waved a hoof to a slow, steady beat. The other band members just sat around, watching, and occasionally exchanging a few words.

“One, two, three, four! One, two, three, four! One, two— pay attention to the beat, Honey,” Dainty said, trying to sound didactic. “Feel it in your body. One, two, three, just watch me. One, two, three, four.”

Steel felt like Honey Drop wasn’t really making any progress, but he didn’t want to just say that. He just exchanged confiding glances with Hard Fiber and River Mouth, while the endless counting and erratic hi hats lingered on.

“One, two, don’t look at your hooves, Honey! Look at my hoof, here! Four! One, two, three…”

“Ah, by Celestia, this is boring!” Honey suddenly grumbled and stopped playing, shaking his head. “I can’t stand this!”

“But, Honey Drop, this is a fundamental exercise!” Dainty said. “This is the most basic thing you can do, and, if you can’t do that, you just won’t be able to play drums.”

“But this is just not what real drumming is like!” Honey said. “Drummers don’t just keep hitting a hi hat like this! I want to actually play songs.

Dainty Tunes shrugged. “I’m sorry, Honey Drop, but you just have to go by steps. Every instrument has its own exercises. That’s just the way it goes.

“Just, hold on, Dainty,” Steel Strings said, getting up. “Look, if Honey finds this boring and wants to play an actual song, why don’t we just… make up an actual song? Let’s just improvise, and he can play along.”

Dainty looked at him, and back at Honey Drop, who had a slightly more enthusiastic expression, and then, he shrugged. “Well, sure. Let’s see what you guys have in mind, then.”

“Okay, River Mouth, why don’t you play a very simple bass line, like, all quarter notes? Just a walking bass thing.”

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, and got in position. Then, she just started to play a very simple line, just an arpeggio on an A major chord, on the same beat that Dainty had been counting before.

“Right, Honey Drop, now just follow along on the hi hat, together with her,” Steel Strings said.

“Aw, the hi hat again?” Honey Drop whined.

“It’s just for a while,” Steel said. “We’ll make it interesting later. Just do it.”

Honey shook his head and started hitting the hi hat again. His playing was still erratic, and the fact that he wasn’t too much into it didn’t help at all. Steel Strings then prepared his guitar, and started to play a chord pattern along with the bass line. Dainty Tunes and Hard Fiber just watched, as the guitar and bass were fully locked into each other, and Honey struggled to keep up.

Then, Steel started to call out some chord names, and River Mouth would make the changes along with him. It was just a simple A - D - E - A progression, as banal as it could be, but it was far more lively than Dainty’s counting.

“Keep it up, Honey Drop, keep it up,” Steel said. “Just feel the music. Now, remember the way Dainty counted, one, two, three, four. I want you to hit the hi hat a little harder on the two and four, alright? Just a little harder, no need to make a dent on it. Try it.”

“Okay,” Honey said, and tried to follow the instructions. The change in intensity did give a bit of extra swing to his hi hat pattern.

“Yeah, that’s it, buddy,” Steel Strings said. “Now, listen closely. On top of what you’re doing, I want you to play the snare on the two and the four, okay? Keep the hi hat up, just play the snare along with it. Think you can do it?”

“I think so, yes!” Honey called out.

Soon, he was hitting the snare along. Dainty paid close attention, and had the impression that his rhythm was a little tighter now. It still drifted back and forth a little, but he could almost call it a beat. Then, Dainty rushed to the piano, and started to play along to the chords, improvising some embellishments on the right hoof.

“Woo, yeah!” Steel said. “Keep it up, buddy!”

“I’m doing it!” Honey Drop said.

Soon, Hard Fiber started to play some licks on his guitar, and all four were jamming to those four chords.

“How do you feel, Honey Drop?” Steel said.

“Kinda good!” he replied.

“Okay. Now, if I ask you to play the kick drum on the one and three, do you think you can do it?”

“I think so!”

“Right, then do it!”

Honey Drop started to add the kicks, which threw his rhythm off a little bit, but he persisted. He clung to the rhythm as if he were holding it in his teeth. It took a moment for him to get used to the swing of the kick pedal, but he started to get steady, and now the music actually sounded like a proper jam.

“Oh, yeah, boy!” Steel Strings yelled. “We’re doing this!”

"Haha, yes!” Honey replied.

Dainty Tunes started to make some wordless vocalisations on the microphone, quietly at first, and then with more and more confidence. He noticed River Mouth was rocking her whole body to the rhythm, feeling it intensely, and Hard Fiber played guitar licks with his eyes closed, swinging from side to side. Dainty smiled, and thought he’d join in the fun, somehow.

We’re just playing a jam
Me and my band
We’re just playing a little jam
Just-a me and my band

He just made up the melody as he went. It didn’t need to be catchy, just sound like an actual song.

“You’re doing good, Honey Drop,” Steel Strings said.

“See? I can play!” he replied.

“You can. Now, on the three, can you play the kick drum twice? Like this: Dum, dah! Dum dum dah! Dum, dah! Dum dum dah!”

“Let me try!”

Honey Drop started to double the second kick drum, which was a bit wonky at first, but started to get a little tighter as he went. Dainty was still making up words as he played:

We’re here in Ponyville Theatre
And we’re playing a little jam!
We don’t really have a name yet
So I just call it my band!

Steel Strings couldn’t help but smile. Honey Drop still had a concentrated, determined face, but he started to bob his head back and forth to the beat.

We want to play some songs
By a band called The Town Troop
So I guess I’m gonna call my band
The Ponyville Rag!

Hard Fiber responded with a wild guitar lick, and River Mouth yelled a “woo!”.

I don’t know if that name is any good
But I think they kinda like it,so
Look at us, listen to us,
We are The Ponyville Rag!

Dainty then started to repeat the final two lines as a sort of chorus, and heard as the music kept getting more lively and more energetic. Hard Fiber then started to sing along to the chorus, and River Mouth soon followed. Steel Strings decided he didn’t want to be left aside, so he joined in the chorus, and they kept singing it and singing it, while Honey Drop held on steady to the beat.

And then, after another repeat of the chorus, Honey Drop played a loud fill on the snare drum and hit the crash cymbal, which threw off his rhythm a little bit, but he picked it back up. The playing and the singing just kept getting louder, and Honey Drop opened the hi hat, turning the dull clicking sound into a continuous loud splash. They went on for several more repeats, just getting into the feeling of it.

“Twice more for me, baby!” Dainty called out.

Look at us, listen to us,
We are The Ponyville Rag!
Look at us, listen to us...

Just as they sang that line, Dainty raised his hoof and yelled “hold!” The whole band stopped playing their instruments, and just sang the final line out loud:

We are The Ponyville Rag!

And then, Dainty lowered his roof, and they crashed into the final chord. Honey Drop made a cymbal roll and Hard Fiber played a long, rousing final solo, while the others just stretched the chord for a while, until Dainty gave them a sign and played a final, dry, definitive chord.

And then they all laughed.

“Dude, what was that?” Hard Fiber said, shaking his head in disbelief. “That was awesome!”

“Hey, Dainty, seems like we’re a jam band now!” River Mouth said, smiling.

“So, Honey Drop, was that less boring to you?” Steel said, giving him a sideways glance.

“Boring?” Honey retorted. “That was super cool. Like, we were actually playing a song! And I held the beat! I actually kept the beat!”

“Yeah, you did,” Steel said. “I mean, you still have to practice a lot, but you’re on the right path. You have to start simple and build from there.”

“I guess so. But it’s so much more fun when you’re playing with me.”

“I’m sure it is,” he replied, turning to look at the piano. There was nopony there. Steel looked around. “Where’s Dainty? Where did he go?”

“I think he went backstage,” River Mouth said, pointing towards stage right.

Steel Strings frowned for a moment, put his guitar down and went backstage.

He found Dainty standing alone with his back against a wall, sobbing, tears in his eyes.

“Dainty? What happened?” Steel said, softly.

He raised his face to Steel. “I’m in a band now,” he said. “I’m in a band.”

Author's Note

The "purple mare with fiery red mane" mentioned in this story is Meteorite Shower, introduced in the story A Second Chance. It's recommended to read that story, as the character will appear again in the future.

All the illustrations were drawn by me.

Track 4: The Storm

After their time in the theater was through, Dainty decided to bring the newly formed Ponyville Rag to his house, so they could discuss a few things. He also wanted to lend some of his records to Honey Drop, so he could use them as reference for practicing at home.

“If you really prefer to play along with actual music, juse use these,” Dainty said. “Start with the slower songs. And start simple. Don’t worry about playing all the fills and rolls, just get confident with the basic patterns.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll do that,” Honey said. “And thanks for the records, by the way.”

“Yeah, but I’m just lending them to you, alright?” Dainty said, with a comical emphasis. “I expect you to return them to me in pristine condition.”

“Yes, you can count on me!”

“Also, remember that none of us here are drummers,” Steel Strings said, “so there’s a lot that we don’t know and that we can’t help you with. It would be better if you could get real lessons with a drummer.”

Honey Drop scoffed. “You think my parents would want me taking drumming lessons? I think they regret giving me the drums in the first place.”

Dainty was rather shocked by the bluntness, but preferred to say nothing.

“Well, it’s just a suggestion,” Steel said, reeling back a little. “If you’re only able to practice at home, then do the best you can.”

“Okay, I’ll do that.”

“In fact, we should all be practicing,” he went on, giving a subtle glance at Hard Fiber. “I mean, even more now that we’re an actual band, you know? You guys know how cool that is?”

“I’m not a pegasus, but I’m walking on clouds right now!” Dainty replied from the kitchen, where he started to prepare some tea.

“Yeah, it’s cool how we were just the three of us a couple of days ago, and how we are a full band,” Hard Fiber said. “And we even have a name!”

“Yup, there’s that too,” Steel said.

“Well, you guys know that I just made that up for a laugh,” Dainty said. “It’s not like it has to be our official name and all. If anypony has a better suggestion, feel free to make it.”

“I dunno, I kinda like it,” River Mouth said. “It’s humble, but it’s honest.”

“Yes, if it was such a spontaneous idea, maybe it’s just meant to be,” Steel Strings said.

“Yeah, I know, like, did you really come up with that on the spot?” Honey Drop said, his enthusiasm almost jumping out of his skin. “How do you guys do that? Like, improvise and stuff?”

“Well, that’s just something we practice,” Dainty said. “It’s kinda like talking. I’m making up these phrases as I go along, because I pretty much know what I want to say, and I know the words, and the grammar, and how to structure phrases… so, I just put the pieces together as I go. With music, it’s similar: when you have a rhythm, and a key, and a chord progression, you just start putting the pieces together, and it just gets going.”

“I dunno, it sounds like crazy talk to me,” Honey Drop said, shaking his head. “For me, that just sounds like magic.”

Hard Fiber chuckled. “Maybe for River Mouth, it is!”

She laughed. “Nah, it’s pretty much what Dainty said, really. It’s practice.”

“So, if I keep practicing, will I become as good as you guys?” Honey said.

“I don’t think you should try to be like us,” Dainty said. “You just have to try to be as good as you can possibly be.”

“Aw, come on, don’t give me that talk!” Honey shot back. “I know you ponies don’t make all this effort just to be ‘the best you can be’. You want to be great, you want to be amazing. You want to be the best, full stop.”

Dainty shrugged. “Well, I guess I prefer to aim too high than too low, but I don’t think I could ever be the best. I don’t think I could be as good as my biggest idols, for a start. But, what I try to do is always overcome my own difficulties. Every time I’m unable to do something, I just practice until I can do it… or, at least, I try.”

“That’s what you should do, Honey,” Steel Strings said. “That’s the spirit, right there.”

River Mouth and Hard Fiber nodded in agreement.

“Alright, then!” Honey Drop said. “I’ll do that!”

“We’re sure you will, buddy,” Dainty replied.

The Ponyville Rag’s first rehearsal as a quintet happened next Tuesday. Dainty spent the last few days trying not to explode with anticipation, and now, he was back home, just waiting for his bandmates to arrive.

As usual, Steel Strings was the first one to show up. Honey Drop arrived just a few minutes later, as Dainty had asked him to come early so he could set up the drum kit. Dainty and Steel helped bring the instruments inside, and Honey Drop would assemble the kit. Hard Fiber surprisingly showed up earlier than usual, and a couple of minutes later, River Mouth was there.

“So, Honey Drop, tell me,” Dainty said, while the others plugged their instruments, “what songs do you think you can play now?”

“Well, I think my best one is For a While Now, because it’s not too fast,” Honey replied. “But I’m trying the others, I just… I’m not very good at them yet.”

“Okay, let’s start with that one, then,” Dainty said. “Have you tried playing any other song that you heard? That is, aside from those we’ve been rehearsing?”

“Uh, yeah, I tried It’s Still Early,” he said. “I think I can kinda do it.”

“Right. I think we never rehearsed that one before, but we can give it a listen,” Dainty said. “Did you bring the records?”
Honey Drop stopped and widened his eyes. “I didn’t… Should I have brought them today?”

“Well, yeah,” Dainty said, looking at the floor, “but I think I didn’t tell you that, did I? It’s useful having the records, so we can listen to the songs together. But don’t worry. Just remember to bring them next time. You can take them back home after the rehearsal if you need them.”

“Oh, okay, then, thanks.”

Soon, they finished setting their instruments, and Dainty sat by the piano, his microphone before him.

“So, For a While Now?” Dainty said. “Honey Drop, you start and we’ll follow you.”

“Yeah, but, uhh… you know that drum roll that’s in the beginning?” Honey said. “I can’t play that yet.”

“Oh, well, no problem. Just give us a count in and we’ll go from there.”

“A count in? Like, one, two, three, four, that stuff?”

“Yeah, like that,” Dainty replied. “Just do that and we’ll join you.”

“Okay.”

Honey Drop did the count in, and they started the song. Honey’s drumming was still a little erratic, but he could more or less keep the beat. He hit the open hi hat in quarter notes, which was a little rough, but not bad. He also tried to play all the drum rolls, and he fudged some of them, but Dainty could see he had really been practicing. Hard Fiber still forgot some of the chord changes, and River Mouth kept adding bass flourishes that sometimes muddied up the harmony, but the song didn’t go too badly.

“Well, okay, for our first song as a full band, that’s not bad,” Dainty said. “Honey Drop, I think you’re improving. As a hint, you don’t need to play all the rolls and fills exactly like on the record. Keep it simple at first, and then make them more complex as you go. What do you think?”

“Yeah, okay, I can do that,” Honey said. “I just didn’t want the drumming to be too boring.”

“I understand. But you can work on that over time. If you can keep the beat steady, that’s perfect. Also, Hard Fiber, you missed a few of the changes, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I think I did,” he said. “This song’s hard to memorise.”

“Well, maybe try studying the song at home. You have the tabs, right?”

“I do, yeah. I’ll try to practice.”

They played the song two more times, and then moved on to Lost Time. Honey Drop wasn’t sure about that song, because of the fast tempo, but he made a valiant effort: while his tempo was a little wonky, he knew all the song transitions and played them almost exactly like the record.

They got back together on Thursday, and this time, Honey Drop brought the records over. They discussed whether they should try to learn It’s Still Early, but Honey said he was trying hard to learn to play the songs they had been rehearsing before, and said he wanted to try to play Is It. And so, they kept working mostly on the songs they already knew. Honey Drop’s evolution was slow, but Dainty believed he was putting real effort.

After the rehearsal, most of the band left, and Steel Strings stood with Dainty a little longer, as usual.

“So, what do you think, Dainty?” he said.

“Well, we’re making progress, I think. And it’s so exciting to have a real band now.”

“Yeah. I still wish we had an actual drummer, though,” Steel said.

Dainty stifled a sigh. “Come on, give Honey some time. He’s working hard.”

“I know, but, still, he’s just got started, and we, as a band, will only be as good as he is.”

“You think so?” Dainty said, furrowing his brow.

“Of course. You gotta have a beat,” Steel said. “These songs depend on that.”

“Yeah, I suppose, but I still think Honey Drop can get better. He’s enthusiastic. He’s really into this. Now, Hard Fiber doesn’t even seem to care much.”

“Oh, but he does,” Steel said. “His problem is that he doesn’t practice, but I know he’s into it.”
“Well, I hope.”

The next day, at work, he overheard Iron Bolt and Jack Hammer talking about going out to the Bamboo Pub after their shift. Dainty tried to approach them in a casual fashion.

“You guys are going out tonight, huh?”

“Yeah, like usual,” Jack Hammer said. “We didn’t think of telling you because you’ve been busy for the last several weeks.”

“Yes, heh, indeed,” Dainty said with a sheepish smile, scratching his head. He had turned down their invitation several times because of his appointments with the band. “Well, I happen to be free tonight.”

“Well, if you wanna come along, just join us, then,” Iron Bolt said. “The more, the merrier.”

“Okay, then, thank you!”

It indeed had been a while since he last stepped into the Bamboo Pub, but the sights and sounds and smells were all immediately familiar to him. The place wasn’t really full, as they had got there rather early, but the aura of careless enjoyment already hung in the air. The trio greeted the pub’s workers, and were led to the same table as usual, at the far back near the stage. There was nopony playing at that moment.

Dainty sat down and took a deep, satisfied breath. He was glad to be there with his pals, and he had extra reasons to be happy along with that. When the drink and the glasses arrived, they toasted and had their first sip.

“Yeah, that’s the stuff,” Jack Hammer said.

“So, Dainty Tunes, what’s been keeping you busy lately?” Iron Bolt said. “You mind telling us?”

“Oh, not at all, it’s nothing secret,” he said. “I mean, we’re yet to make it completely public, but it’s gonna happen eventually. What happens is that I have a band now.”

“Wow, that’s pretty cool,” Jack Hammer said. “You’re all into music, and that.”

“So you’ve been playing gigs, or something?” Iron Bolt said.

“No, not yet,” Dainty replied. “We’ve been getting together in my house for rehearsals, several times a week. And yeah, it’s gonna take quite a lot of rehearsing for us to get ready to play out there, I believe. So I’m really pretty busy with that.”
“And you play your own songs?” Jack Hammer said.

“No, no, that’s not the plan. We’re… Well, you remember last time we were here, when that dude tried playing a song by The Town Troop?”

“Oh, sure I do!” Iron Bolt said. “I remember how that went.”

“Yeah, so, he’s in my band. We’re playing cover versions of songs by The Town Troop.”

The two ponies stared at Dainty, unable to react for a moment. Then, they instinctively looked around.

“But… why?” Jack Hammer said, in shock. “I thought nopony liked that band anymore!”

“Well, from what I’ve seen, most ponies have no idea who they are, so they have no reason to dislike them,” Dainty said. “Yeah, some ponies really don’t like them at all, but, to each their own, right? I’m not trying to force anypony to like the songs.”

“Yeah, but, you’re doing covers of a band very few ponies even remember,” Iron Bolt said. “Like, who are you doing this for?”

Dainty looked at his glass, pondering for a moment. “Well… to be honest, I’ve been doing this for myself, you know? I thought at the beginning that the goal was to stop these songs from being forgotten, but, in reality, it’s just so much fun to do this, like, learning the songs, playing with the guys, solving our little problems and hearing the songs take shape… I’m doing it for the band, and I think we all are. Of course, eventually we’ll try to make an actual concert, but I’m not really thinking about that. Who knows, maybe I’ll play these songs only for, I dunno, four or five ponies? If that’s the case, I don’t mind. I did it for the fun of it, for the experience, and to learn something about myself on the way.”

Jack Hammer widened his eyes and shrugged. “Well, sounds like crazy talk to me, but if you’re saying it…”

“Yeah, I know it might seem crazy,” Dainty said. “We get this idea that ponies get into music or art in general to get big and famous, but I think, most of all, we have to enjoy doing it even if it doesn’t go anywhere. If we end up becoming well known because of this, that’ll be cool, sure, but if we don’t, then we had a good time doing it.”

“I think that’s pretty cool, actually,” Iron Bolt said. “You know, my mom, when she was younger, she used to do paintings. She loved it, and she never became famous or anything, and she eventually had to stop doing it because of work and family. But she’s still happy with what she did, and we have some of her paintings hanging in our house. I think they’re really great, and I’m proud of my mom.”

“Huh, that’s nice, Iron,” Jack Hammer said. “I didn’t know that!”

“Yeah, congrats to your mom,” Dainty said with a smile.

“Thanks, guys,” he replied. “And I also wish luck to your band, Dainty.”

“Thanks a lot, buddy.”

“Do you guys have a name?” Jack Hammer said.

“Well, we call ourselves The Ponyville Rag. I don’t know if the name will stick, but it’s what we have for now.”

“It’s not a bad name.”

“Yeah,” Iron Bolt said, raising his glass. “So, to The Ponyville Rag?”

Jack Hammer looked at his two friends, and also raised his glass. “Yeah! To The Ponyville Rag!”

“To The Ponyville Rag!” Dainty replied, joining in the toast and finishing the drink in his glass.

The band’s next rehearsal had been scheduled for that Sunday, in the afternoon, so they would have plenty of time to work on the songs and discuss ideas. Honey Drop got there very early, carrying his drum kit on his cart.

“I brought the records again, Dainty!” he said, eagerly. “I didn’t forget them.”

“Oh, thank you, Honey Drop!” Dainty said with a smile. “Yeah, we might want to listen to a song or two today. Want some help?”

“Uh, yes, please!” Honey replied, unloading some of the stands from the cart and handing them to Dainty, who took them inside.

They had already started assembling the drum kit when Steel Strings arrived. River Mouth was there soon afterwards and Hard Fiber, going back to his old tradition, arrived twenty minutes later.

When he got there, the other four were already working on some details of Lost Time, which Honey Drop was really eager to learn how to play.

“Remember that we can go through the songs that are easier to you,” Dainty said. “You just have to suggest them to us.”
“Yeah, I know, but, like, this song is just so amazing, you know?” Honey said. “I love it, and I love the way you guys play it. I really want this to work.”

“Well, no problem! Just try your best, and we’ll keep working on it,” Dainty said.

The five of them were ready in their places, and Dainty asked Hard Fiber to begin. They made a pass through the song, and all four of them could notice Honey Drop had improved a little. He tried to play the hi hats in eighth notes, like on the record, but that was still a little too hard for him, but he kept trying. He played a few drum fills here and there, and at least had nailed all the song transitions. They could play the whole song start to finish without a hitch.

“It’s sounding pretty good, I gotta say,” Hard Fiber said.

“Yeah, but… I dunno, something feels off,” Dainty said, with some frustration.

“Is it me? I know I’m still struggling a little,” Honey Drop said.

“No, no, it’s not you,” Dainty replied. “It’s… something that’s been bugging me for a while now. I dunno, the song seems too loaded, but… strangely enough, something seems to be missing.”

Steel Strings thought of saying something, but he was still insecure.

“Do you really have to play the piano, Dainty?” Honey Drop said. “Why don’t you just sing?”

Dainty looked at him, some shock on his face. “I can’t do that! I’m not trying to be Deep Voice.”

“But you don’t have to try to be him, dude!” Honey shot back. “I’m not trying to be Cymbal Crash, and River Mouth here isn’t trying to be Rocky Rumble, and neither Fiber nor Steel are trying to be Shimmering Chord. So why are you scared of that?”

Dainty couldn’t help but be amused by the fact that he had memorised the names of all members of The Town Troop, but he was still bugged by the idea. Taking the lead vocals without playing an instrument felt daunting.

“Honestly, my friend, I’ve been thinking of suggesting that to you for a long time,” Steel Strings said. “You should just sing.”

“But… if I do that, I might steal all the attention!” Dainty objected. “And this is a collaborative effort! The Ponyville Rag is all of us! I don’t wanna be, like, the star of the show, or some nonsense like that!”

“I dunno, dude, but I think you should try it,” Hard Fiber said. “Give yourself a chance.”

River Mouth just slowly nodded.

“Well, okay, I’ll try it,” Dainty said, moving the mic stand away from the piano, and putting it so the whole band was in a circle. “But just because you guys said it.”

“Yeah, give it a shot,” River said.

“Okay, Fiber, I’m ready when you are.”

And so, Hard Fiber played the arpeggios, and the band joined in. Dainty heard with attention and respect, gently rocking his body to the rhythm, waiting for his cue. He started singing, and his eyes wandered around the rest of the band, watching as they remained focused on the music.

Gradually, Dainty began to make gestures with his hooves and move his body around, as if his voice wasn’t sufficient to express what the music had to say. River Mouth watched him with a smile, as she grooved along, and during the first big breakdown before the instrumental interlude, Honey Drop beat his drums fiercely as he watched Dainty use every muscle in his body to give weight to those elongated notes.

After the vocals returned, Dainty grabbed the mic out of the stand and moved around, rocking his body and belting out the words with force. The band seemed to be way more into the music than they used to be, and even Steel Strings seemed to be swinging harder. After Dainty hit the last note, he just stood in place, grooving along to the rhythm, watching his band members drive the song to the end, when Hard Fiber did his final note bend.

“That… was awesome,” Honey Drop said, emphasising each word.

Dainty just shrugged and smiled shyly. “Yeah, well, I did my best.”

“I think you have no choice, Dainty,” River Mouth said with a smile. “You’re not going back to the piano.”

He gave a sad look at his piano, which was an instrument he loved dearly, but it seemed River had a point.

Just then, he spotted something with the corner of his eye—or better, somepony. He saw a face watching him through the window, from the road outside. Just as their gazes met, the peering eyes went wide, and the pony quickly turned around.
He recognised that face. The yellow coat, the flowing pink mane, the sudden embarrassment.

“Uh, wait a second, guys!” he said eagerly, rushing to the door. “I have to do something!”

“What happened, dude?” Hard Fiber said.

“No, no, it’s nothing!” Dainty replied, opening the door. “Just play something, I’ll be right back!”

The rest of the band exchanged glances while Dainty rushed down the road after the pony.

“Hey! Fluttershy!”

She stopped on her tracks, as she couldn’t simply ignore him, and turned her face to see him coming.

“Hey there,” he said, already panting after the short run. “So, uh, sorry for running after you like this, but… uh, were you watching us play, by any chance?”

She looked up at him with her face turned down a little. “Um, well, yes, I was. But I didn’t mean to bother you! I… just… thought the music was interesting. If I wasn’t supposed to watch, I apologise, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, it’s not a problem at all,” he said, trying to sound casual, even though he was about as nervous as she was. “I mean, we play so loud that there’s no point in keeping it secret or anything. It’s fine, no need to apologise.”

“Oh… okay, I’m sorry,” she said.

Dainty smiled, just not realising how cheeky and daring he was for approaching her like this and talking so casually, as if they were friends, or something. “Well, uh… since you watched us play, I wonder… What do you think of what you’ve heard?”

She paused for a moment, and her face lit up just a little bit. “Um, it’s good! It’s… It’s not the kind of music I usually listen to, though, so… maybe I don’t know. But I thought it sounded good. Did you write that song?”

“Oh, I wish!” Dainty replied with a cheeky smile. “But no, that’s by a band called The Town Troop. We’re learning to play their music.”

“Well, that sounds exciting,” she replied. “I wish you luck.”

“Aw, thanks, Fluttershy, I appreciate that.”

She looked down, again, and reeled back a little. “Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to get going now? I need to pick up some supplies, for the animals, and all…”

“Oh! Oh, sure!” he replied, stepping back. “I, well, I kinda have to go back to rehearsal too, so I won’t delay you any longer. Just… thanks for sharing your thoughts!”

“You’re welcome, Dainty Tunes,” she said.

“Okay, so, see you around, then? I guess?”

“Yes, see you around,” she replied in a tone that could almost seem affectionate, but was probably just polite.

And so, they went their separate ways, and Dainty headed back to his house.

“So, do we have our first fan?” Hard Fiber said.

Dainty gave a sheepish chuckle. “Maybe? I dunno, it’s too early to say, I guess. Anyway, let’s do a second pass on that song?”

The rehearsal was quite fruitful that day. Not only did they make a few passes on Lost Time, but they covered Almost by Mistake and For a While Now, and they were getting into pretty good shape. They talked for a while and decided they wanted to start learning a new song.

“There’s one I’ve been wanting to try for some time,” Dainty said, grabbing one of the records. “It’s called When the Sun Shines Through the Window of Your Bedroom, and I find it just so beautiful. I think we’re ready to tackle it.”

The band listened to it a few times, read the chord tabs and started to figure out the different parts together. They were unable to get the song finished before the band members had to leave, but Dainty still considered it good progress.

“Remember, folks, we’re doing this together,” he said as they started to pack their stuff. “We’re a collaborative effort, and as long as everypony is committed, we can totally do this.”

“I’m with you, Dainty,” River Mouth said. “We’re pulling this off together.”

This time, Dainty thought he’d distribute the records among the band members, so each one could study some of the songs, and hopefully start learning some on their own. As usual, Steel Strings stood behind while the others left.

“Ah, these long rehearsals make me really tired,” Dainty said, “but it’s so fun to see how we move along.”

“Yeah, they’re really exhausting,” Steel Strings said, stretching his limbs. “So, what did you think? How’s it for you to just be the singer?”

Dainty gave him an insecure gaze. “Honestly, it’s… kinda weird. I never fancied myself as a ‘singer’, you know. And… well, when ponies get to watch us perform, they’ll just compare me to Deep Voice. I know they will.”

“And does that bother you?”

“Well, I don’t want to be compared. I’m not Deep Voice. I’m Dainty Tunes, and I’m just presenting these songs to other ponies.”

“You’re worrying about something that hasn’t even happened yet,” Steel said. “You don’t know how ponies will react. Look, what really matters is for you to be true to yourself, and do the best job you can. And, honestly, you’re doing a pretty good job singing those songs. And you sing them your own way. You’re not imitating Deep Voice.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Dainty sighed. “I just can’t be sure that other ponies will see me that way.”

“Yeah… but look, I can only speak for myself, but, when I watch you sing, I don’t compare you to anypony. I just want to watch you sing more.”

Dainty made a surprised pause, caught by that phrase. “That was… a very sweet thing to say, Steel.”

He gave a sheepish chuckle. “Heh, well, I… well, it’s true, you are quite an enchanting presence when you sing. And I think other ponies are probably gonna feel the same.”

“Well… hopefully,” Dainty said, sitting on the piano bench, and gave a comical smile. “But, please, go on, let’s talk more about how amazing I am!”

Steel Strings thought of replying, but he just chuckled, looking at the floor. The conversation went on through different paths.

Rehearsals carried on through the following week. They gathered less often than when there were only three or four members, but they still made steady progress. Dainty started to wonder how fast that progress was, though; he had never been in a band, so he had no idea what was an average pace for a band like them.

Still, they kept working on the songs and improving some of its finer details. On the first rehearsal after that Sunday, Dainty interrupted Almost by Mistake halfway through, to say the band weren’t keeping up the energy.

“The song isn’t supposed to lose steam as it progresses, you know?” he said. “It’s okay if we start a little weak and get stronger towards the end, but if we lose the energy halfway through, that’s not good at all. It sounds like we’re getting bored.”

They weren’t able to learn a new song at every rehearsal, but they always made sure to keep working on a new song until they were satisfied with it. Dainty would often interrupt those attempts, and the band was getting used to the fact that, at any point, he would yell an elongated “stoooooop!” into the mic, and then comment on something that wasn’t good.
“Honey Drop, don’t play the drum fills that you don’t know how to play yet,” he said once. “Keep things simple at first, and then improve them as you go.”

“Yeah, well, I just… I wanna play my parts the way I’m supposed to.”

“I understand, but you gotta work with what you’ve got,” Dainty said. “If you lose the beat, you can end up throwing all of us off. Whatever you do, don’t lose the beat.”

“Okay, I’ll try,” Honey said.

With each new pass of a song, it became clearer that Dainty heard in his mind how the songs should go, and would keep demanding his bandmates to play things according to how he thought they should be. It wasn’t necessarily the way it was on the record, but he had the songs in his head, and expected the others to go along.

“Steel Strings, when we get to the final part, I really need to hear your guitar,” he said. “If you have to play louder, play louder, but you need to be present.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Steel said.

“And, River Mouth, take it easier with the improvising. There’s already quite a lot of bass flourishes in this song, and I don’t think it needs any more. Don’t go overboard.”

“Well, alright,” she replied with a shrug.

One night, after lending the band’s first record to Hard Fiber, he asked him to try to learn It’s Too Early and pick up his parts. He felt like that should be the next song to work on.

“It’s kinda simple stuff, but it’s also pretty nuanced,” he said. “You don’t need to play exactly the same way Shimmering Chord does, but just get the essence of it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Hard Fiber said, and Dainty had the immediate impression he wouldn’t study the song at all.

The next evening, Dainty asked Hard Fiber to return him the record so they could study the song, but he had forgotten to bring it.

“Aw, come on, buddy!” Dainty scolded. “We were supposed to start listening to the song today!”

“I’m sorry, Dainty, I just completely forgot,” Fiber said. “I swear I’ll bring it next time.”

“Yes, do so. Did you practice the song, at least?”

“Uh, a little, yeah.”

Dainty interpreted that as a “no”.

“Well,” he said, “might as well start on another song, then. I don’t think we should spend too long just working on the same songs over and over.”

“Yeah, but we’re still working on When the Sun Shines Through,” Steel said. “That one isn’t done yet.”

“You don’t think we could work on two new songs at the same time?” Dainty said. “I think we’re capable. I know I am”
“Are we in a hurry, though?” River Mouth said. “Do we really have to rush?”

“I’m just concerned that we might be stalling,” Dainty said. “I wanna learn more songs. I think we can do it.”

“Maybe we can do an experiment,” Steel said. “Let’s try to work on two songs at the same time and see what happens. If it doesn’t work, we’ll go back to one at a time. What do you think?”

Honey Drop scratched his mane. “I guess it’s ok?”

“Let’s do it, then,” Hard Fiber said, shrugging.

Dainty suggested they try Theorem, which he thought was a simple and catchy song, and they listened to it a few times. Honey Drop was a little concerned with the rhythm of the drums at the intro, so Dainty and River Mouth helped him figure it out. It didn’t take them many passes to start getting the song right, but, as they progressed, Dainty’s requests became more specific and demanding.

“This part right here needs to have a lot of energy,” he said, after another interruption. “It’s not about speed, it’s about intensity. Give everything you have here, and after I sing my line, you can fall back a little.”

“I dunno, I’m not sure what you mean by ‘energy’ and ‘intensity’, dude,” Hard Fiber said.

“You don’t know what energy means?” Dainty said, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Fiber glanced at the others and shrugged.

“It’s in the way you play, guys,” Dainty went on. “Really blast out those chords, strum hard and firm. This is for both of you,” he said, pointing at the two guitarists. “Firm, strong hooves, guys. You too, River Mouth, be a little harsher on those strings. Honey Drop, snappy, tight drums. My vocals here are pretty high and intense, and I need you to back me up.”

“Okay, so, like, we just strum harder, is that it?” Hard Fiber said.

“That’s just one of the things, Fiber,” Dainty replied, a little annoyed. “But you have to really put energy in your body, and it’ll show. I wanna feel your presence. You’re our lead guitarist, you’re important. You keep thinking that it’s the singer that gets the attention, but the guitar also shines in this music. You gotta shine, Hard Fiber.”

He just shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

Dainty refrained from shaking his head, and asked for another pass of the song.

As the days progressed, the rehearsals started to get a little less frequent, due to the band members having other appointments. Dainty tried not to feel too frustrated, but the fear that they could start slowing down was striking him again. He spent most of his free time listening to the songs, studying them on the piano, figuring out small details and working on his own voice. He wanted to sound as powerful as he could, and one evening, he felt his throat ache, probably due to excessive strain.

On the next rehearsal, they decided to start working on a new song, since the two they had been working on were rather settled. They chose It’s Too Early, and, as usual, sat down to listen to it a few times.

“This song has a piano on it,” Dainty said. “I think I should play it.”

“Are you sure it’s necessary?” River Mouth said.

“Of course it is,” Dainty replied. “It makes a difference. You heard the song, didn’t you?”

“I could play the piano, if you want,” Steel said, getting up. “The song doesn’t have an acoustic guitar anyway.”

“I didn’t know you could play the keyboards,” Dainty said.

“I can, a little bit,” Steel said, approaching the piano. “This song is just D minor, right?”

Dainty looked at the floor, thinking. “It’s more D Dorian, I guess, but yeah.”

“D Dorian? What’s that?”

“The Dorian mode? You don’t know it?”

“No, not really,” Steel said.

“Well, it’s almost D minor, but with B natural instead of flat,” Dainty said. “It’s just the white keys of the piano, really.”

Steel pondered for a moment. “So shouldn’t it be A minor?”

“A minor? No, not at all. The song’s clearly in D.”

“Yeah, but, we play the A minor chord twice as much as D minor,” Steel said. “Maybe it’s not in D at all.”

“No, it absolutely is,” Dainty said. “I hear it. D minor is the home chord, and A minor resolves straight back to it.”

“Guys, do you really have to discuss that now?” Hard Fiber said. “Let’s just play the song.”

Dainty turned and glared at him. “You’re not the one who decides that, Fiber.”

Fiber looked back at him with a bit of shock. “Okay, I… I just…”

Steel Strings thought of saying something, but he refrained.

“Okay, never mind, I guess we should just play the song, anyway,” Dainty said. “Do the count in, Honey Drop?”

“Sure.”

Honey counted to four, and he and River Mouth locked into the rhythm. Hard Fiber and Steel Strings joined, while Dainty waited for his cue to begin. He started doing his vocals, staring straight at the floor, concentrating, paying attention to the band’s sound. They played all the way to the end, and Dainty gave a sign for them to end the song.

“We forgot to discuss when to end the song,” Steel Strings said. “Glad you gave the sign, Dainty.”

“The song needs to sound tighter,” Dainty said, pretty much ignoring him. “Drums and bass have to be locked together, tight. Firm, steady. The ending needs more energy, more guitar, more piano. Your lines were good, Fiber, but you need to raise the intensity at the end.”

“Can we listen to the song again?” Honey said. “I think I didn’t catch the drum fills well enough.”

“Don’t worry about the fills for now, Honey,” Dainty replied. “Focus more on the rhythm. Keep the fills simple.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to listen to it again, if it’s no problem,” Hard Fiber said.

Dainty rolled his eyes. “Well, okay, let’s do it, then.”

They listened to the record once more, all four paying attention to certain details, while Dainty just absentmindedly mumbled the words along. He knew the whole thing like the back of his hoof, anyway, so he didn’t need to pay much attention.

They went back to playing the song, and Dainty remained focused, listening to the sound of the band. Between his sung lines, he’d keep saying “tighter!”, or “keep it tight!”, or “more energy!” during the choruses. The band reached the ending, and the four other members exchanged looks, like Dainty kept staring at the floor.

“It’s sounding better, I think,” River Mouth said.

“You’re improvising too much, River,” Dainty said, cutting her off. “This song needs a tighter rhythm, and you’re letting it too loose.”

She furrowed her brow a little. “But there’s plenty of improvising on the record! I’m just trying to sound like that, to keep the song interesting.”

“Well, it’s too much,” he replied. “Cut it back a little.”

“I think she’s right, Dainty,” Steel Strings said. “The bass is quite melodic on the record.”

“Steel, leave this to me, alright?” Dainty said, cutting him off, raising his hoof towards him. “River, it’s not the bass that makes the song interesting. When you have your own band, you can be the center of attention, but right now, it’s the sound of the band that matters. Keep your ears open, listen to the whole band, and stick with us. Alright?”

River Mouth made a pause, and briefly nodded. “Yeah, sure… I just… Yeah, fine.”

“Okay, let’s give it one more try,” Dainty said, “and then we’ll maybe work on other songs. Let’s do it.”

Steel Strings said his farewell to his bandmates, and stood in Dainty’s house. He had a couple of things in his mind, and hoped he could talk to Dainty about that. Before he could open his mouth, though, Dainty started to speak.

“Steel, don’t interfere when I’m talking to the other guys, okay?” he said. “Leave this to me, I can handle this. I know what I’m doing.”

He looked up at Dainty, surprised. “But… we’ve been doing things like this since the beginning, buddy,” he said. “Why change now?”

“Because I think it’s time for me to be in charge of things,” Dainty replied. “It’s my band, and I know what I want, so let me do the talking.”

Steel frowned at him. “Your band? You said a while ago that this was a collaborative effort, and this was our band and we were all important.”

“But it was my idea to do this, it was my initiative,” Dainty snapped. “I went all the way to Manehattan to get the records, I talked to Shimmering Chord, he gave me the blessing. And face it, Steel, you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me. You’d still be trying to play to those jerks at the Bamboo Pub and getting booed off the stage.”

Steel stared at him in disbelief, a little shaken, but took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. “I thought we were doing this together, Dainty. I thought you trusted my opinions.”

“Well, of course I trust you, Steel,” Dainty said, softening his tone and going to the kitchen to heat some water. “I didn’t stop trusting your opinions, and we are in this together. I just think it’s better if only one of us stays in charge, you know? Too many cooks spoil the broth. That’s all there is.”

Steel tilted his head and considered replying.

“And this is still a collaborative effort, you know,” Dainty went on. “I couldn’t do this entire thing on my own. I need you guys, but if somepony doesn’t have a clear vision of how we should sound, there’ll be no real unity, no real direction.”

“But don’t you think everypony should have that same clear vision?” Steel said.

“Well, that’s why I’m always telling them what we should do, isn’t it?” Dainty replied, approaching him. “I’m trying to make them see the same thing I do, so we can make progress together. Look, I trust you, Steel. I love what you do, you’re essential to this band, and I also need you to trust me. What do you say? Do you trust me?”

Steel gazed deeply into Dainty’s eyes, and he felt something odd. He saw the essence of love and goodness in him, but something almost seemed to shroud it. Just a week ago, Dainty looked beautiful and enchanting, especially when he sang, but now, there was something a little frightening about him.

“Yes, I trust you, Dainty,” he said. “Of course I trust you.”

Dainty smiled. “Thanks, Steel. I know we can pull this off.” He went back to the kitchen. “We’ll be a great band, I can assure you that.”

Steel nodded, and tried to understand what it was that he felt in his heart. Something pulsed in there, and he wasn’t sure what it was.

Dainty was particularly jumpy when the band arrived for rehearsal that Friday evening. He was impatient and eager to get started, as he wanted to get It’s Too Early in shape and hopefully start working on a new song. He barely waited for his bandmates to get their instruments ready.

“Okay, guys, let’s do this.”

“Hold on,” Hard Fiber said, as he finished tuning his guitar.

“What song are we gonna start with, anyway?” River Mouth said.

“It’s Too Early, of course,” Dainty said. “We gotta get this song done.”

“Okay, I’m ready, Honey,” Hard Fiber said.

Honey Drop did the count in, and the band launched into the song. It seemed to be flowing smoothly, but Dainty was once again focused, staring at the floor, listening intently.

“Tighter, guys!”

By now, Hard Fiber barely cared about Dainty’s instructions at all. It was just part of the song.

They proceeded through the first verse, and it seemed to be going well.

“Stoooooop!”

The band stumbled into silence.

“I keep telling you, the rhythm needs to be tight, guys,” Dainty said. “Honey Drop, have you been practicing?”

“Yes, I have!” Honey said. “Nearly every day!”

“Honestly, it doesn’t sound like it. You need to practice more.”

Honey scoffed. “It’s easy for you to say that. All you do is sing.”

Dainty gave him an icy look. “It was you guys who told me I should stop playing the piano and only sing! And do you think singing is easy? I’m also practicing every day. And I studied those songs for days on end to learn them. You think I’m doing nothing? Really?”

“Dainty,” Steel said, “Dainty, take it easy.”

“I’m sorry, Dainty, I didn’t mean to insult you,” Honey said, worried.

“Okay, okay, never mind,” Dainty replied. “Let’s just play again. You guys ready?”

They responded positively, and Honey Drop did the count in again. Dainty waited for his cue and started the first verse. Honey Drop focused hard on his part, while River Mouth paid special attention to her bass part. They made past all the sung verses and went into the final instrumental. Honey Drop tried to do a long drum fill and fumbled it, falling behind the beat a little, but rushed to pick it up.

“Stoooooop!”

Hard Fiber puffed and shook his head.

“Honey Drop! I told you dozens of times to stop trying to play things you can’t play!” Dainty said, in a frustrated tone. “I keep telling you, but you won’t listen! River Mouth! Stop improvising so much! You’re going overboard and you keep throwing everyone off. Stop trying to be the center of attention. Hard Fiber, honestly, it sounds like you just don’t care. You’re playing with no feeling. In fact, none of you seem to care about this band at all. None of you. I’m singing here like a clown and you don’t give a crap. I’m sick of this shit.”

Steel Strings stared at Dainty. He couldn’t believe what just happened.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Dainty,” Honey Drop said, his voice trembling, “I’m… I’m trying. I care about the band, I swear.”

Dainty breathed heavily and looked at the faces around them, incredulous, shocked, embarrassed. All because of him.

He couldn’t recognise himself.

He thought of something to say, but words failed him. He had hurt everyone around him, and there was nothing he could do to fix that. Something had completely clouded his judgement, and it didn’t matter what it was; what mattered is that he had done something terrible, and he couldn’t blame anyone other than himself.

“I’m… I shouldn’t… I’m sorry, guys. I… The rehearsal is over,” Dainty said.

He put the mic back on the stand. Honey Drop looked at his bandmates, worried.

“Like… the band is over?”

“No, I’m not breaking up the band,” Danty said. “I just… I’m just not… I can’t do this today. You should just go home, and we’ll try again another day. I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Are you alright, dude?” Hard Fiber said, while River Mouth turned off her amp. “Do you need help?”

“I’m… I’m fine, I’m fine,” Dainty said. “I just… I need to be alone, that’s all.”

“Are you guys free tomorrow?” River Mouth said.

“I’m not,” Honey Drop said. “I’ll be busy with my parents. But I’m free on Sunday.”

“Yeah, me too,” River replied.

“Sunday’s okay by me,” Hard Fiber said, unplugging his guitar.

“I’m okay with it,” Steel said, going to put his guitar in the case. “Will you be free, Dainty?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” he said, plainly, sitting on his bed.

“Right, Sunday it is, then,” Steel said, going off to help Honey Drop with the drums.

Minutes later, they started to leave, and Steel Strings once again stood behind. He looked at Dainty, who was still sitting on the bed, slumped forward, his head down.

“Do you want to talk, buddy?”

Dainty looked up at him. “Actually… I just want to be alone.”

Steel watched him for a moment. “Well… okay, I’ll leave, then.” He grabbed his guitar case. “But, if you need me, I can stay here.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Dainty kept pondering while Steel slowly walked towards the door.

“I acted like a jerk, didn’t I?”

Steel stopped and looked back. He sighed. “You did, Dainty… You owe them an apology.”

Dainty looked at him, with deep embarrassment. It was hard seeing that sweet, beautiful face saying something so harsh and truthful.

“I know,” he said, nodding, his head heavy.

Steel made a pause. “Take care, alright?”

“Yeah.”

Dainty felt he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. His behaviour seemed unexplainable and didn’t seem to make any sense, but, deep inside, he knew it could have an explanation, all due to a fact he wished to avoid, but was being forced to face again: he was a self-insert.

He still remembered what had happened in the cave. He knew he represented trouble, and had only been let loose as an act of mercy. He remembered his promise that, if he ever did anything that could mess up the balance of the world, he’d disappear.

And he was put in this world to satisfy the whims—whatever those whims are—of some self-professed creator. He used to think his purpose to exist was just for laughs, but he grew out of that. But maybe his purpose was changing now. Could all that passion, all that desire to make music, be the result of something external, something powerful and irresistible, that was beyond his control? If that was the case, he was in deep trouble.

And not only that, but he had hurt the feelings of ponies who had joined him for a noble purpose. He still believed in the band, he still loved the songs, and the band was with him because of those songs; and he had thrown so much hostility and frustration right at their faces, in an unfair, cruel fashion. Of course he owed them an apology, but would that help at all? If he had acted in that manner that evening, would he even feel compelled to apologise next time they met?

He was sunk so deep into this trouble that he couldn’t even hope to see a way out. Eventually he got lost in the haze of sleep, but he woke up still feeling dazed and tired, and the thoughts of last night quickly came back to hammer on his head.

That morning, he had to go off to get some groceries, but his mind was drowning in loud, confusing thoughts. He felt like his body was heavy, the light of the sun bothered him, and, as he got closer and closer to the center of the town, the noise and the chatter made his ears hurt. He kept replaying the events from the last evening in his mind over and over again, and they were interrupted by a promise he made a while ago:

“If I ever do even one tiny stupid thing, I’ll be gone forever.”

Well, he had done it, hadn’t he?

He looked at all the other ponies around himself. They all had a legitimate reason to be there. But did he? Who was him anyway?

Dainty pressed his eyelids and tried to focus on the things he had to buy, but he couldn’t find himself. Images and sounds buzzed in his brain, his present surroundings were mixed with his memories, his regret was mixed with the fear of what was to come. He felt his own body shaking.

“If I ever do even one tiny stupid thing, I’ll be gone forever.”

Trying not to make a scene, he got out of there as quickly as he could, and rushed down an empty street, looking for somewhere quiet.

“Hey! Dainty Tunes!”

The voice came from far away behind him, as if somepony was running after him. He was afraid of stopping to look.

“Dainty, wait up!”

He finally looked back, and, with some shock, recognised the purple pegasus, her red mane bouncing around as she ran after him. He stood there, frozen for a moment, and discreetly glanced around himself as she got close and slowed down.
“Meteorite?” he said, almost in a gasp.

“Dude, what happened to you?” she said. “You looked like you were having a fit back there. What’s going on?”

He looked to the sides. “Meteorite, I don’t know if we should talk so often.”

She furrowed her brow, perking up her ears a little. “Why shouldn’t we? What’s the matter?”

Dainty lowered his voice, approaching her a little. “Meteorite, we’re both… different, you know. Wouldn’t we end up attracting too much attention?”

Meteorite gave him a soft, but stern look. “Dainty, we’re two regular ponies having a regular conversation in the streets of Ponyville. There’s nothing bad about this. Now, speak up.”

“Well… how much time do you have to hear me?”

She looked back at the town square. “I s’pose AJ will understand if I’m helping a friend, so go ahead.”

“Okay… let’s go to a more reserved place, if you don’t mind it,” he said.

They started walking, looking for a place where ponies couldn’t overhear them.

“So, recently, I started a band,” he said. “I got together with some ponies, and we’ve been rehearsing in my house, a few times a week. And it was really great, we were having a great time, and all… but then, I don’t know why or how, but I just… I started acting like an asshole, bossing them around, just… I became insufferable, really, and… last night, I really lashed out of them… and I got scared. I felt like I was turning into a monster of some kind.”

“M-hm,” she said, nodding, listening attentively.

“And, well… I know that, uh… ponies like me… characters like me, well, they’re sometimes made for… not very noble reasons, you know,” he said, trembling as the words came out. “Like, some of us are put here for pure wish fulfilment, to satisfy whatever whims and wishes of our creator, even if we act in… completely unjustifiable ways. And, well, I started playing in a band, and just started acting like a fucking prima donna all of a sudden, so… could it be that… is that why I’m here?”

They stopped in an alleyway, and she looked at him, pondering deeply. “I’unno, seems weird that you’d turn into some lousy Gary Stu all of a sudden… Tell me, what is your band playing? Is it your own songs? As in, your writer’s songs?”

“No, no, not at all,” he replied. “They’re songs from another band. We’re a covers band, pretty much.”

“Oh,” she said, “so what band is it? Queen? Pink Floyd? Beatles?”

“No, it’s not… it’s not a band from… out there,” he said. “It’s an actual pony band from actual Equestria… actually. I heard about them for the first time just a few months ago.”

“Hm, okay,” Meteorite replied, still thinking. “What do you remember from the human world?”

He put his hoof on his chin, thinking deeply. “You know, I… I haven’t thought much about that. I know I remembered quite a lot of stuff at first, but… I think I still remember some songs, but… honestly, I don’t have many recollections at all! It’s kinda weird.”

She furrowed her brow. “Dainty Tunes, are you even a self-insert?”

“I’m pretty sure I am,” he replied, after a pause, “or… or at least I have been, for some time. It was pretty obvious to me. I was put here for that reason. Meteorite, I was put here as a fucking joke, you know. I was a goddamn gag created for my creator’s amusement.”

“Yeah? Well, gags don’t usually have existential crises,” she said. “And what’s with this ‘my creator’ bullshit? Just call him by name.”

He looked at her for a moment, and then at the floor. “I… don’t remember his name.”

Her jaw hung open. “Seriously? Dainty, how the hell are you supposed to be a Gary Stu for a writer whose name you don’t even remember?”

He slowly nodded. “Yeah, it’s… it’s weird. I’m even more puzzled now. What is even happening?”

“If I could risk a guess,” she said, “I’d say ‘your creator’ wants you to have a life of your own. That’s kinda the same with me… or at least I presume.”

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I always felt like you were just a regular pony, you know,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“Then it’s time for you to be one yourself,” she replied. “I don’t think you’ve been acting like that because you’re going full Gary Stu. If you were, would you even be so conflicted?”

“Yeah, I guess that doesn’t make much sense,” he said, putting a hoof on his chin. “So that means that, if I’ve been acting like an asshole… it’s because I’m just an asshole after all?”

She tried to stifle a laugh, but couldn’t resist it.

“Hey, don’t laugh!” he said, frowning.

“I’m sorry, that was just goddamn funny,” she said. “No, but seriously, you’re… you’re not an asshole, Dainty. Maybe… who knows, maybe you weren’t feeling very satisfied. Do you enjoy being with your band?”

“Well, I really love the music,” he said, “and the guys are good, I can’t deny that. I… I do feel like we have potential, honestly.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, but do you like being with them?” she insisted. “Is it fun to hang around with them?”

Dainty scratched his mane. “Actually… we don’t really ‘hang out’ that much. I do spend some time with one of my bandmates, but the others… I kinda don’t even know them well. We just get together to rehearse, and then they go home. I never had huge problems with them, but…”

“Seems to me like you need to have a talk to them, Dainty,” she said. “Maybe you’re treating them too much like musicians and not enough as… well, ponies. To be fair, I have no idea what it’s like to be in a band, and if I ever tried to touch a guitar, I’m sure I’d break all of the strings just by holding it, but… I always assumed that ponies in a band gotta have some affinity. You’ll be together for a lot of time, so it should be fun for all of you. If you’re… well, this is harsh to say, but if you’re not having fun, and if they’re not having fun, maybe it’s not meant to be. But who knows, if you get to know them better, it could make a difference.”

He stared at some point in the distance, listening to her, but also immersed in thought. “That makes a lot of sense, Meteorite. Really. I think I know what I could do to sort this out.”

“That’s good,” she said.

He gave a chuckle. “It’s kinda funny, but I’m relieved to think that my jerkass behavior probably comes from within me. I mean, if I can act like an asshole sometimes, it means I can learn not to act like one.”

“That’s the spirit, dude,” Meteorite replied. “And stop being scared of talking to me, alright? If you need to chat, just look for me… but, well, I really need to go back to work right now.”

“Oh, of course!” Dainty said, with a bit of shock. “Yes, of course. I don’t want AJ to think you’re slacking off. Just… thanks a lot. I feel much better now.”

“Glad to help,” she said, a few steps away. “And good luck with the band, too. And now, see ya!”

“See ya, Meteorite,” he said, just as she quickly trotted back to the town square.

He couldn’t say he had completely overcome his insecurity and his fear, but he had reasons to think he could fix things on his own, and he had plans on how to do that.

Dainty was already impatient when Steel Strings and Honey Drop arrived, within minutes of each other.

“Guys, don’t need to get your instruments out,” Dainty said. “I have… other plans for today.”

“Other plans?” Honey said.

“Yeah. I’ll wait for the others to show up, if you don’t mind.”

“No, I guess not.”

River Mouth and Hard Fiber arrived soon afterward, and Dainty also told them not to get their instruments.

“I thought we’d do something a little different today,” he said. “Instead of rehearsing as usual, I think we should… hang out.”

Honey Drop and Hard Fiber exchanged glances. River Mouth tilted her head a bit.

“I mean, we’ve been doing this for so long, and we get to meet so often here to play songs, but we… don’t seem to know each other very well. At least I don’t know you very well. And I think, if we should keep doing this together, it would be nice if we… if we got a little closer.”

“Sounds fair to me,” River Mouth said.

“Yeah, I guess that’s good,” Honey Drop said.

“Well, so, I thought that we could… go out there and have a picnic. What do you say?”

“Huh, it’s been a while since I’ve done that,” Hard Fiber said. “Could be fun.”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” River Mouth replied.

The other two just nodded.

“Alright, then!” Dainty said, almost joyful. “So, can you help me bring along the supplies?”

He pointed to a couple of baskets lying around the kitchen. They went around to pick them up, and went out of the house into the bright afternoon.

They chose to go to Saddle Lake, where a few other ponies sat and walked around, enjoying the scenery. The band chose a fairly isolated spot, and Dainty spread a large cloth on the grass. They sat around and started pulling out the items for the baskets.

“You really put effort into this, Dainty,” Steel said.

“Well, yeah, I wanted this to be nice for everypony.”

Honey Drop pulled out a pot of honey and held it in his hoof, with a smirk. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

Dainty gave a sheepish chuckle. “Heh, I swear I didn’t make the connection! I just… figured you guys would like it.”

“Well, he works with that stuff every day, I guess he must get sick of it,” River Mouth joked.

“No, not really,” Honey replied, opening the pot and taking a small spoon from inside the basket.

“What work do you do, exactly?” Dainty said.

“Eh, whatever my parents ask me to do, really,” he replied, taking out a small portion of the honey and putting it in his mouth. “Hmm… this is definitely blended,” he said, examining the honey inside the pot. “Buckwheat, sunflower… chestnut, maybe? I bet this has chestnut in it. Grade B. Pretty good stuff.”

“You can tell all that just by tasting it?” Hard Fiber said.

“Yeah,” Honey said. “Been doing this since I’m a kid. That’s what my main job really is: quality control. But I do almost any job on the farm, really. I’m not a fan of handling the bees, because I don’t think they like me much. But my sense of taste is just excellent. It’s always been like that.”

“That’s pretty cool,” River Mouth said.

Dainty, once again, noticed that hadn’t paid much attention to the cutie marks of his bandmates, and Honey’s mark featured a honey dipper.

“I just wish I was like that with music, you know,” he said. “Why couldn’t it be that easy? Music means so much to me, but it’s so hard for me to learn.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you can get there,” River Mouth said. “I don’t have a natural gift for music, either. I mean, I think only Steel Strings and Dainty Tunes have.”

“What do you work with, anyway, River?” Honey Drop said.

“I’m a scientist,” she said, while a cookie magically hovered near her face. “I specialise in water plants and animals, and study most water based biomes. It seemed like an obvious thing for me to do, since I’ve always loved to see anything that has to do with rivers, lakes, oceans, swamps and whatever else. I just love getting my hooves wet, you know.”

“That’s a pretty peculiar interest,” Dainty said, “I like that. So it’s like, I guess, you know a lot of fish and plants and stuff?”

“Yes, the flora and the fauna, yes, but I also have to study the terrains, the environments, the dynamics of rivers, currents, all that stuff. I love how there’s a lot of information, and I have to put them all together to understand what’s going on.”

“That sounds really hard, honestly,” Steel Strings said. “I bet most of that stuff would fly right over my head.”

“Oh, I’ve had to do a lot of studying,” she replied. “Tons of reading, tons of field work, tons of research… but it’s fun, because I love the subject. It gets tiresome, sometimes, but it makes me happy.”

“Kinda like when I play music with you,” Dainty replied. “It’s often pretty exhausting, but I feel good.”

“I also feel like that,” River said. “I just have to put a lot more effort into the music. When I do my job, things just seem to come to me more easily. With music, I have to reach out and grab the stuff. It’s harder, but I also love it.”

Dainty discreetly noted her cutie mark, which displayed a beautiful river delta.

“You guys make me look a little boring,” Hard Fiber said, with a slightly sad smile. “Honey’s tongue can detect flowers in honey, River knows everything about all that lives underwater… and I just work with plant leaves and ropes and stuff.”

“But that’s not necessarily boring,” Honey Drop said. “I’m sure you know a lot of stuff that we have no idea about.”

“Well, yes, working with fibers is pretty technical, and there’s always somepony out there that needs our work,” he replied, shrugging. “But I dunno, I just think music is so much cooler. Pretty much everypony loves music, but, like, nopony looks at a rope and says, ‘wow, what a cool looking rope!’… well, nopony but me, I guess…”

“I think, if there was nopony that was interested in ropes, we’d be in trouble,” Dainty said. “They’re super useful, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy about what I do. It’s just not very… glamorous, I suppose.”

“Never mind that, Fiber, you’re a cool pony,” River said. “What about you, Steel? What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a luthier,” he said, after munching on a sandwich. “Mostly that.”

Honey Drop just kept staring at him, one eyebrow raised. “And that is…?”

Steel looked at him with a bit of embarrassment. “Guess I should’ve explained, right? Sorry. I build and fix musical instruments.”

“Oh, that’s cool!”

“Well, thanks,” Steel said, with a slight smile. “I do enjoy it. You know that guitar I play? I built it myself.”

“Wow, that’s pretty impressive!” River Mouth said.

“And he’s pretty good, too,” Hard Fiber said. “I once broke the neck of my guitar, and he made it better than it was before. That’s how we met, by the way.”

“I also taught you how to take better care of your instrument, you know,” Steel said. “That poor guitar was in pretty bad shape.”

Fiber scratched his mane, with an embarrassed smile. “Yeah, I know…”

“So, are you a musician who turned into an instrument builder, or an instrument builder who turned into a musician?” Honey Drop said.

“It’s more the latter, I guess,” Steel said. “I always loved music, but I mostly learned how to play because I wanted to learn how to work on the instruments. So it just grew from there. I love to play, but I don’t think I’m an actual musician, you know. I just like making noise.”

“You make good noise, Steel,” River Mouth said with a smile.

“So, what about you, Dainty?” Fiber said. “Do you work with music?”

Dainty lowered his head a little. “Nah. I’m a construction worker.”

The other four faces looked at him in silence for a moment. “Really?” Honey Drop said.

“Yeah. I mean, I sure would love to work on music, but… I guess I haven’t found an open door yet, you know? So I just… raise buildings. I’d like to work with something a little less dangerous, but, well, it keeps me afloat!”

“I hope you can work with what you truly love someday, Dainty,” River Mouth said. “I’m sure it will be rewarding for you.”

“Well, here’s hoping!” Dainty said. “But you know, it’s pretty fascinating that we’re a band made up of ponies who come from completely different fields of work. I mean, if it weren’t for music, how likely is it that we’d ever get together?”

“Yeah, right?” Honey said. “This is what brought us together. And… I mean, I… I seriously love music, dude. I love playing with you guys, and… and I know I’m not that good of a drummer, but I swear it makes me so happy to be part of this.”

“I’m happy you’re with us, Honey,” Dainty said, sighing. “And… well, I… I should’ve said this earlier, but I… I owe you guys an apology. I was… The way I treated you, I should’ve never done that. Ever. You don’t deserve that. I acted like a jerk, and I…” He took a deep breath to try to keep his composure. “I hurt you. And there was no excuse. I won’t do that again, I promise.”

“Dainty, I’ll be honest with you,” River Mouth said. “I wasn’t gonna come today. If it depended on me, I would’ve just… left the band. But Honey Drop came to talk to me, he begged me to come, and I did so because of him. I’m glad to hear that from you. I really think the band has potential, but we have to respect each other. We’re all in this together, and even though all of us can always improve a little bit, there has to be mutual respect.”

“You’re one hundred percent right, River,” Dainty said. “You’re totally correct, and, honest, I’m sorry for what I did, and I won’t act like that anymore. I… guess I got too passionate about this project, and I kept trying to rush ahead, and I… didn’t consider that you’re not there to do what I want, but to do what you love, and I… I almost ruined everything. I’m sorry, guys, I’m sorry.”

Steel Strings put a hoof on his shoulder, and Dainty gave him a sweet smile.

“You’re a cool dude, Dainty,” Honey Drop said, “well, when you’re not being a meanie, I guess. But I totally think you can stop being a meanie.”

“I will, Honey,” Dainty Tunes said. “You guys have my word.”

“Thank you, dude,” Honey replied. “I… you know, I was really scared that you were gonna break up the band… Please don’t do that. I really want to play with you.”

Dainty saw the pleading, almost desperate look in his eyes. “Honey, this band means a lot to me. You guys mean a lot. The music means a lot. This is special, you know, this is… this is amazing. I feel…” He took a deep breath, pondering as he watched the surface of the lake. “You know why I’m so fascinated with that band? You wanna know why I like those songs? It’s because they disquiet me. They unsettle me. They make me feel uneasy, and they make me realise that the way we feel sometimes can be difficult, and that’s just part of life. These songs aren’t all about feeling happy and relaxed, it’s not music that makes me feel everything is going to be fine… it’s music that makes me feel alive, you know?” he said. “It makes my heart race. It gets my blood pumping. That’s why this music exists, and that’s what I want to do to other ponies.

“I wanna shake them. I wanna make them feel something. I wanna make this place rattle and shake, you know? I wanna grab everything that’s buried in my heart and put it out there, so that everypony can listen. That’s what drives me. That’s what makes me passionate, and, well, I can’t force any of you to do that, but I wish you do the same. Take everything you feel, everything that’s buried in you. It doesn’t need to be only bad feelings, anger, frustration or sadness; just everything. Grab it all and put it in the music. Remember the things you’ve lived, the things you’ve seen, the things you’ve felt, all the things that make you feel alive. Put it in the music. Make the music pulsate. Make it a monster. Make those songs into something big and terrifying and that can’t be tamed. Make it fucking real.

“This way, you don’t need to play all the correct drum fills, or play the most interesting bass lines, or anything, because you are interesting. The music will be great because you are great ponies. The music will just flow right out of you, as long as you play it with your heart. You are amazing, and all the music needs is that you be who you are. That’s all I ask from you. The little problems, we can iron those out with rehearsals, but be true to yourselves, always. You hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you!” Honey Drop replied, with enthusiasm.

“You got it, dude,” River Mouth said.

“Right on,” Hard Fiber replied.

Steel Strings gave Dainty a gentle look. “I know exactly what to put into the music.”

Dainty casually looked back. “So do I, buddy.”

The band remained there for hours, talking, laughing, watching as sunlight faded into the soft darkness of the evening. They just couldn’t notice time going by so quickly, and the end of the day caught them all by surprise. Before it got too dark, they returned to Dainty’s house to get their instruments and head back home.

“Thanks for the picnic, Dainty,” Hard Fiber said. “It was a great idea.”

“Yeah, I had a super good time,” Honey Drop said. “We should do that more often.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Dainty replied. “I really needed this.”

They talked about their next rehearsal, and scheduled it for next Tuesday. Steel Strings stood with Dainty for a while longer, as he always did, and after he left, Dainty felt like a huge weight had fallen from his shoulders. He felt good. Things looked great.

Author's Note

This chapter refers to events from the first prequel, Pinkie and Her Bane, and also features the character Meteorite Shower, introduced in A Second Chance.

Track 5: A Perfect Day

On Tuesday evening, the band gathered again to play, and Dainty already looked and sounded like that pony from a couple of weeks ago, who enjoyed every second of the music and sang with his heart, not with his ears picking on every minute defect, whether real or imagined. As they made passes through the songs, the other band members themselves started to notice details and rooms for improvement, and they talked about how the songs should sound like. Dainty realised he didn’t have to be in control of everything, as the band also had an intuition of how things should work. After making a second pass on When the Sun Shines Through, Dainty leaned on the mic stand and observed the band wrapping up the song.

“Guys, is it just me, or are we just sounding really great?” he said.

“Well, I don’t know about my drumming, but I like what I hear,” Honey Drop said.

“I think we’re doing really great,” Steel Strings said. “I’m enjoying this.”

“You know, I’ve actually talked to a drumming teacher,” Honey said. “She said she can give me a few pointers and hints to improve my playing, and we’re gonna start tomorrow.”

“That’s cool, Honey!” Dainty replied. “I think that’s really gonna help you.” He made a pause. “So, let’s try It’s Too Early?”

River Mouth felt a bit of a shiver. “Sure.”

They got prepared and launched into the song. Dainty sang the whole thing with his eyes on the band, gesturing and moving around. Hard Fiber had never heard him sing that song so intensely, and the whole song just seemed to pulsate. He finally understood what the deal with that song was, and he had the impression that his bandmates felt the same.

“Woo, this was great!” Honey Drop said once the song was over.

“Yeah, I liked it,” Steel Strings replied.

“You’ve improvised a lot less now, River Mouth,” Dainty said. “Was it because of all my criticism?”

“Well, in part,” she replied. “I just, I dunno, this time, I was actually listening to everypony play, and the song just made sense to me. So, I was just playing the song, you know? I still did some flourishes when I thought the song needed it, but it came naturally.”

“Your playing was really cool, River,” Hard Fiber said.

“Yeah, you know, I thought about this the past few days,” she went on. “In one of the bands I played in, I played these really interesting bass lines, and it was a lot of fun. I love playing that stuff. But, at the same time, when I play with you, it’s more like… I’m sort of carrying the whole harmony. It’s like I feel the chords on my shoulders, and I’m supporting the whole thing. It’s like having a lot of power, you know?” She smiled. “It’s almost like driving a tractor. And I think that’s what most of the songs need.”

“So there, River Mouth is our tractor driver!” Honey Drop replied.

“You’re more like a steamroller, River,” Hard Fiber said. “You have a really cool sound.”

“Thanks, guys,” she said.

A while later, Dainty suggested they start studying a new song, The World’s Been Acting So Complicated, and they took the rest of the rehearsal to start figuring it out. They couldn’t finish it, but they’d just pick up from where they left on the next rehearsal.

Hard Fiber, River Mouth and Honey Drop looked legitimately happy when they left. Steel Strings sat on the bed, contemplating.

“Wow,” Dainty said, turning to him. “It’s amazing what happens when you act like a nice pony, isn’t it?”

Steel smiled. “Yeah, imagine that. So, how do you feel?”

“I feel good,” Dainty replied. “Great, actually. I think the guys actually feel the music a lot more now, and things are just flowing really well.”

“I enjoy hearing and watching you sing, Dainty,” Steel said. “You… look so lively again.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I… feel that, you know, but I never know if it’s just an impression.”

“Well, I can see it,” Steel said. ”You’re… you… you’re back in the business.”

Dainty looked at him with a smile. “The Ponyville Rag is back in business, buddy.”

They did a hoof bump.

They joined again on Friday, and the flow of the rehearsal remained smooth. They were still learning new songs, and they seemed to get in shape faster than ever.

“Dude, we should play these songs in public,” Honey Drop said. “We already have a bunch of songs we can play. We should go out there and do our thing.”

“But we don’t really have a concert yet,” Dainty said. “I don’t think we’ve got enough for a half an hour show. I don’t know where we could play.”

“Maybe in the town square?” Hard Fiber said.

“You think so? I’m afraid we’re too noisy for that place.”

“Well, we could tone it down a little bit, if that’s the case,” Steel Strings said. “We could focus on the more upbeat songs, and maybe it could be fine.”

“But where are we gonna plug the amps and stuff?” Honey said. “I don’t think they have energy available.”

“We could rent a generator,” River Mouth said.

Dainty pondered. “It seems feasible… and honestly, I’d love to play in public. Still… it’s a bit of a risk.”

“But aren’t we doing this to go out there and play eventually?” Honey Drop said. “Let’s just do it!”

“I love your enthusiasm, Honey,” Dainty said with a smile. “I just… well, what do you guys think? Should we try?”

“I think we should,” River Mouth said. “We’re well rehearsed, and the experience will be good for us.”

“I’m up for it,” Steel Strings said. “I think I can look for a generator, and one of you could go to the town hall and put our name in there.”

“I suppose I could do that,” River replied. “I’ll go check it out, and I’ll tell you about it. What do you think?”

“That would be brilliant,” Dainty said. “Thank you, guys.”

“Oh, by the way, Dainty,” Honey said. “My drum teacher said she’d like to visit the rehearsal one day, to see how I sound when I play with you. Would that be a problem?”

“None at all, Honey,” he replied. “In fact, it’s great that she’s willing to do that. It will help you a lot.”

“Alright, Dainty, thanks.”

Dainty was a little bit frustrated, as they only managed to rehearse again next Tuesday. The schedules of the band members prevented them from playing more often, but Dainty tried not to get too worried. After all, it wasn’t for the fear of lagging behind, but because playing with the band was so enjoyable to him.

So, Tuesday came, and Dainty eagerly awaited his band members. Honey Drop was the first to show up.

“So, my drum teacher will show up sometime soon,” he said, as Dainty and he started bringing the instruments inside. “I really hope it doesn’t get in the way of rehearsal.”

“I don’t see any problem,” Dainty replied. “If we focus a little more on your drumming this time around, it might be a good thing for everypony, so don’t worry about it.”

Steel Strings and River Mouth arrived soon after, and they had good news.

“They had an open slot for this Saturday,” she said, “so I put my name in there.”

Dainty felt a shock. “This Saturday?”

“Yeah,” River replied. “It’s no big deal, is it?”

He scratched his mane, his eyes a little wide. “I thought we’d have a little more time… but, well, I guess we can do it.”

“I think we’re fine, Dainty,” Steel said. “I can secure the generator. I guess we could split the costs evenly among us, what do you think?”

Honey Drop looked a little concerned. “Yeah, sure.”

“You can count on me, Steel,” Dainty said. “I admit this makes me a little nervous, but, well, what we can do now is rehearse like crazy.”

“Yeah, let’s do this,” River Mouth said, plugging her bass guitar into the amp.

“I was thinking that we could start studying a new song today,” Dainty went on, “but let’s focus on the ones we know, to prepare for the show.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Steel said.

“Helloooo, Ponyville Rag!!”

Dainty Tunes’s eyes popped wide.

“Oh, look, my drum teacher has arrived!” Honey Drop said, as he finished fastening a cymbal to its stand.

Dainty turned to the door, his brow furrowed, and looked back at Honey. “Pinkie Pie is your drum teacher?”

“Yeah, what about it?” he said.

“May I come in?” she said, with only her head poking through the door. “Even though my head is already in, which means I’m partway in, but can I come totally in? I like being partially in, but I also like being totally in. So, may I come totally in?”

“Um, of course, Pinkie,” Dainty said, awkwardly. “Well, Honey, that was just… unexpected, that’s all.” He gave a clumsy smile. “But I guess the classes are fun!”

“Mmm-hmm!” she said, dropping a little basket on the kitchen table. “I’ve also brought cookies!”

“Ooo, I like that,” River Mouth said.

“But, Pinkie, I didn’t know you were a drum teacher,” Dainty said. “Since when have you been giving classes?”

“Ooooh, for a long time!” she said, looking up, as if mentally counting. “One week, to be exact!”

Dainty hesitated. “So Honey is your first student?”

“Yup! And a super duper fine student he is!” she said, patting him on the head. “He’s diligent and dedicated, and pays attention to everything, and he does all the exercises. He’s my best student ever!”

“Well, that’s, like, great,” Dainty said, stifling an urge to laugh. “Oh, how silly of me, I haven’t even introduced the other band members to you. This is—”

“Introduce?” she interrupted, a puzzled look on her face. “Why would I need to be introduced to River Mouth and Steel Strings? I’ve known them for a long time! She’s a super awesome scientist and knows about everything that goes underwater, and he’s only the best luthier in town, who has worked on a bunch of instruments for me.”

“You always flatter me, Pinkie,” Steel Strings said.

“Mmm-hmm!” River said, just swallowing a bite of a cookie. “She’s too kind.”

“And we have another band member, Hard Fiber, our lead guitarist,” Dainty said. “I… suppose you know him too, right?”

“Of course!” Pinkie replied with a smile. “I’m a fan of his work! You’d be surprised to know how important the usage of quality ropes and fabrics is in the execution of excellent parties!”

“Yes, I’m sure I would be,” Dainty replied with a smile. “Anyway, Fiber should arrive any time, so you’re free to get occupied with Honey Drop in the meantime.”

“Sure thing!” she replied, turning her attention to Honey. “So, have you been practicing your paradiddle?”

“Yeah, I have,” he said.

“So, let me hear it, then. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

He readied his drumsticks and started playing the rhythm on his snare drum, but, after just a few repetitions, it started to fall apart.

“Woah, woah! You’re playing too fast!” she said, interrupting him. “Don’t play fast if you can’t keep it up. Play it slooow. It’s more important to keep it up for as long as you want than to play fast. That is, it’s important to play fast, but you start slow, then you get faster and faster and faster and faster and then a little faster, and that’s how you get good at it!”

“Yeah,” he said, scratching his chin, “but, Pinkie, why do I have to keep doing this? I don’t even play like that in real songs.”

“It’s an exercise to improve your coordination and your rhythm,” she promptly replied. “It will make your playing better, even if you never have to play a paradiddle in any song… but I don’t know why anypony would not want to play a paradiddle in a song! We need more songs with paradiddles.”

“I dunno… I know it’s an exercise, but it’s really boring to keep doing the same thing over and over,” he replied.

“I know, I know,” she said, with a dramatic tone, holding up a hoof against him and facing the other way, like in a theatrical pose. “Exercises can be boring, but you can make them become not boring, or unboring. You can unborify these exercises! And how, you may ask? Well, when I do those exercises, I always make up silly songs as I go along, and it becomes unboring! Wanna see?” she said, grabbing another pair of drumsticks from the bag next to the snare drum. “Here, let me show you!”

He reeled back a little to open up space for her, and she started playing a brisk, but not overly fast paradiddle, and started to sing: “Hey, Honey Drop! / You’re such a honey bop! / We’re working on your chop / So don’t let the beat drop!” She repeated the rhyme once more, and then stopped. “See? It’s so much more fun!”

Dainty forgot to plug his microphone into the amp, as he just couldn’t stop watching the two.

“So, should I just try that? Well…” He pulled his stool close to the snare, and started to play a very slow version of the same rhythm, and thought for a moment. “Hey, Pinkie Pie… / You bake a good pie… / I wear a suit and tie / And you… uh…”

He stopped playing and shrugged. “I can’t do this, Pinkie! I can’t make silly songs on the spot like you can. I mean, even Dainty can, but I can’t.”

“Oh, it doesn’t have to be perfect, you know?” she said. “It doesn’t even have to rhyme! It just has to be fun.”

“Well… I’ll try to think of something, I guess…”

“Yes, just try!” she replied. “But for now, just let me see you play that paradiddle, and then we’ll move to something else.”

He shrugged, and started to play again, at a slower tempo. In the meantime, Hard Fiber arrived, and was surprised to see Pinkie Pie there—but, sure enough, he and Pinkie Pie knew each other, so no introductions were necessary.

After a while, they had their instruments put together, and Dainty Tunes suggested they just played all the songs they knew, pretending it was a real show.

“So, what song do we start with?” Hard Fiber said.

“That’s a good question, isn’t it?” Honey replied. “Like, we would need a setlist, or something.”

“Why don’t we just start with Lost Time?” River Mouth said. “It’s the first one we learnt.”

“I don’t think that’s a good song to start a show,” Steel Strings said.

“Why not? It’s a great song!” Honey shot back.

“Yes, of course it’s great, but it doesn’t scream ‘show opener’ to me. We should have something more upbeat, like Theorem.”

“Theorem? Nah, dude,” Hard Fiber said. “That’s more to rouse up the energy at the end of the show. Why not When the Sun Shines Through?”

“That’s too slow, Fiber!” River Mouth said. “We need something more upbeat.”

“Guys? Guys?” Dainty said, trying to interrupt, but the discussion raged on. Pinkie Pie’s eyes darted from pony to pony, and she seemed to be already a bit dizzy. Dainty tried to interrupt a few times, and then brought his mouth right up to the mic. “Guys? Listen up!”

The rest of the band stopped suddenly and looked at him, a little startled.

“Um, sorry,” he said, stepping away from the mic. “I just meant to say, shouldn’t we discuss this later? We should take our time here to actually rehearse the songs. Pinkie Pie is here to help Honey with his drumming, so let’s not waste our time with unrelated things… uh, I don’t mean to be rude. That’s just what I feel.”

“You have a point, Dainty,” River Mouth said. “Let’s just play the songs in the order we remember them, and discuss the setlist later.”

“Yeah, we can do that on Saturday, even,” Hard Fiber said.

“That’s a bit too late, isn’t it?” Honey Drop said. “We should do that earlier.”

“But how long would it take to do that?” Fiber replied. “It should be quick!”

“Yeah, but—”

“Guys, come on!” Dainty interrupted, stretching out a forehoof.

Honey looked at him and reeled back. “Sorry.”

Dainty gave him a clumsy smile. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Let’s just play. Lost Time, alright?”

“Right, let’s go,” Steel Strings said.

They launched into the song, and Pinkie closely watched Honey Drop play, tapping a hoof to keep the rhythm. They reached the end of the song, and Pinkie started to give some tips to Honey Drop, like that he was moving his hooves too much, thus wasting energy, or showing him how to hit the cymbals better. She also taught him to tune his drumheads, to get a better sound.

The band decided to try Is It next, and launched into the song. Pinkie kept intently listening to Honey, following all the changes in the song until the final chord.

“So? What do you think?” Honey said.

“You’re playing some pretty tricky rhythms, Honey,” she said. “That’s impressive! You just need to work on keeping the tempo. You go a wee bit off from time to time, so I shall give you more exercises to work on that. You should practice with a metronome. Do you have one?”

“Uhh, no, I don’t,” he said.

“I can lend you mine, Honey,” Dainty said. “Just take it when you go home tonight.”

“Gee, thanks, Dainty!”

“So, what do you think of our sound, Pinkie?” Hard Fiber said.

“Well, I’d say you have a crunchy crust of cool with a creamy middle of awesome, sprinkled with coloured bits of nice, and with a cherry of ooh, that’s pretty on top! In other words, you sound delicious. Are those your songs? Did you write them?”

“No, no, they’re songs by a band called The Town Troop,” Dainty Tunes said. “I could only wish I wrote as well as they did.”

“The Town Troop? That name’s vaguely familiar,” Pinkie said. “Well… whoever wrote those songs… wasn’t a very happy pony, were they? I feel like giving them a hug.”

“Well, yes, I suppose Deep Voice wasn’t a particularly happy pony,” Dainty said, timidly, “but does that bother you? You don’t like the songs being… er, not happy?”

“Bother? Of course not!” she said, with dignity. “Any emotion is worthy of being expressed in musical form, even the negative ones! Emotions are a part of life, and art is a direct reflection of life as we know it; and even though songs can be used to cheer up other ponies, a sad song can bring comfort to ponies who need to feel they’re not alone in being sad.”

Steel Strings nodded with admiration. “That makes a lot of sense.”

“Well, I’m glad, Pinkie, but we really need to rehearse these songs,” Dainty said, glancing at the other members. “We really have to get this done.”

“Oh! I didn’t know you were in a hurry,” she replied, a little embarrassed.

“Yeah, we’re going to play on the town square this Saturday, so we’re—”

“Wait… You’re doing a gig this Saturday?” she said, her eyes wide with looming excitement, and jumped into the middle of the room. “That’s great! This is your big opportunity to put out a great show—wait, no, a big spectacle! Yes, because even though music is the most important part,” she said, with a didactic tone, “it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t worry about the visual elements! We need fireworks! Light shows! Dance numbers! Yes, we should choreograph some dance steps, Dainty Tunes! It’s gonna be great!”

He gave an uneasy chuckle. “But, Pinkie—”

“And you, Honey Drop,” she said, darting in front of the drum kit, “remember when I taught you to play with smaller, more economical movements? Well, use that extra room for movement to put on a big showcase! You have to look huge behind those drums!”

“Pinkie, look,” Dainty insisted, to no avail.

“And the guitarists?” she said, her face revealing an explosion of ideas. “Guitars are such visually powerful instruments! You have to occupy the whole stage and make everypony notice you!” She made her speech while flashing some air guitar skills and kneeling on the floor.

Dainty wiped his face. “Pinkie—”

“You, Steel Strings, cannot, by any means, play sitting down! You should totally get a strap for your guitar and get up on your hooves!”

“Pinkie!!”

The loud voice coming from the amp rattled across the house, and she immediately froze in her pose, and then politely turned to Dainty. “Yes?”

“Pinkie, we’re just doing a half hour gig in the town square,“ Dainty said with a frustrated frown, “there’s no need for spectacle! We’re a rock band, not a stupid circus act! And we don’t have time to do any of that nonsense. We need to rehearse the songs, you know? There’s no time to rehearse dance steps. Besides, you’re here as Honey Drop’s drum teacher, and that’s the only reason why you’re here, so stop being inconvenient and wasting our time, go back to your place and let us continue rehearsing the songs now.”

Her ears flopped a little and her shoulders fell. “Okay, I’ll stop. You can go ahead.” She dragged herself next to the drum kit. “I’m ready when you are, Honey Drop.”

The way she looked felt like a stab in Dainty’s heart, and his bandmates looked at him with shock and embarrassment—except for Honey Drop, who seemed just angry at him. Dainty’s mind went in a rush, as he realised he was being a jerk again. He thought about that specific evening, he thought of his conversation with Meteorite, and a mantra started to sound in his head: don’t be an asshole, don’t be an asshole.

“Hey, listen, Pinkie, I’m… I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” he said. “I was way out of line. I mean, I really appreciate that you’re trying to help us and make us look great… but unfortunately we don’t have the time for that, and we have to prioritise the music. And I love your enthusiasm, so I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. Your ideas aren’t stupid and they aren’t nonsense, and you’re not inconvenient. I was… way out of line. Please accept my apology.”

Her face turned into a soft grin. “Apology accepted!”

The other band members took a relieved breath, but Honey Drop kept frowning, and avoided looking directly at Dainty.

“Now, please, go on with the rehearsal,” she said. “I’ll no longer interrupt. Like, at all. You have my word. Totally.”

“Thank you, Pinkie,” Dainty replied, with an involuntary smile. “So, Almost by Mistake, everypony?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Fiber said.

Dainty was impressed by the amount of tips and pointers she kept giving to Honey Drop in between songs. He had no idea playing the drums was so complex and technical, but there was always a clear justification for everything. He felt like, after that, he wouldn’t ever be able to grab a pair of drumsticks and play any decent sound at all, which renewed his respect for the drums.

“So, are you free for another rehearsal this week?” Dainty said. “I think that’s important.”

“I’ve got all evenings free,” River Mouth said.

“I’ll only be able to be here on Friday,” Hard Fiber said. “Like, I know we should rehearse more, but I’m… really busy with family stuff. Sorry.”

“You guys fine with Friday?” Dainty said at the other two. They both nodded. “I think it’s fine, then. We did the songs just fine. We just need to be warmed up and ready.”

“I think you were all great,” Pinkie said, with genuine brightness. “You’ll put on an awesome show, and I’ll be there to see it! Especially you, Honey Drop!”

“Gee, thanks a lot, Pinkie,” he replied. “I’m glad you came to see me play. You’re so helpful.”

“It was nice having you, Pinkie Pie,” Dainty said, “and, any time you want to do this again, just let us know and you’ll be welcome.”

She talked to Honey Drop to arrange their next lesson and helped him disassemble his drum kit. The others started to pack their instruments as well. Dainty offered them some tea, but the others couldn’t stay much longer.

“Now, if you excuse me,” Pinkie said, “I have some tasks to do at Sugarcube Corner, so I’ll see you this Saturday, okay?”

They gave their farewell to Pinkie Pie and she went her merry way. Honey Drop came back inside to get the few other pieces of drum equipment, while River Mouth and Hard Fiber were already outside.

Suddenly, Honey Drop stood before Dainty, almost pinning him against a wall.

“If you’re ever mean to Pinkie again, you’re screwed, buddy,” he said between gritted teeth. “Screwed.”

Dainty’s eyes were wide and frozen, and his heart almost stopped. He couldn’t even be angry that he was being threatened inside his own home, because the threat was justified. If anything, he knew he would be screwed anyway.

He looked outside, and noticed Fiber and River hadn’t noticed it. Steel Strings looked at him with a furrowed brow.

“Um, see you soon, Honey,” he said. “I’m excited for Saturday.”

Honey just left carrying the last remaining drum stands, and the trio departed. Dainty sighed and looked at the floor.

“Fucking stupid!” he hissed at himself, forgetting Steel Strings was there.

“Are you okay, Dainty?” he said.

He looked up at Steel, a little startled. “Of course not! Why do I keep acting like that?”

“Maybe you’re just stressed out,” Steel replied, while Dainty closed the front door, “what with the gig and all.”

“But that’s no excuse for me to be mean with other ponies,” Dainty replied, dispirited. “I’m starting to feel a little scared of myself, you know? What if I just start randomly lashing out at anypony just because I’m ‘stressed out’? That’s nopony’s fault, and I’ll be hurting them and myself. This is horrible, Steel.”

“Dainty, if you ask me, I believe you’re a good pony at heart,” Steel said, making a gesture for him to sit by his side. “You just have to think twice before you act, and have more control over your emotions.”

“As if that was easy,” Dainty said, sitting on the bed, his head hanging low.

“I’m not saying it’s easy,” Steel replied, shrugging. “But I think you can do it. If you were a truly nasty pony, you wouldn’t even worry about that. Just be careful not to fall into self-pity: own up your mistakes and try to improve a little every day.”

“Self-pity… yeah, that sucks, doesn’t it?” Dainty said. “Yeah, don’t wanna do that. It’s amazing, it sounds like you always have the right thing to say, Steel. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I say the same to you, Dainty.”

He looked at Steel with a wry smile. “Even when I act like a jerk?”

Steel shrugged. “I have to take what I’ve got, right?”

They laughed.

Dainty Tunes arrived early at the square, the stage was just finished being assembled, and the shopping stands were being loaded and prepared. His heart raced. The rehearsal last night had been smooth, the songs sounded fine, and the band was prepared and eager to do that show. Still, it was an entirely new experience to him. So many ears and eyes would be paying attention to the band, scrutinising their hard work, that it was inevitably frightening. But this was the whole reason why he had started the band to begin with, so this was a fear he had to face. There was no way out.

Honey Drop arrived soon after, bringing his equipment in his cart. He greeted Dainty and they started to work. The remaining band members also didn’t take long, and soon after Hard Fiber arrived, the generator was brought in.

While the band prepared the stage, the town square was getting filled with ponies. Some curious eyes already watched them work, and Dainty noticed some foals were fascinated with the guitars and the drum kit. Dainty tried to ignore the crowd, as he felt that, the more he noticed them, the more nervous he’d become.

As the amps were turned on and the drum kit was assembled, the band started to test their sound and adjust their levels.

“Don’t forget, guys, we’re not gonna play that loud,” River Mouth said. “We’re not meant to disturb the other ponies.”

“Yeah, keep the loudness moderate,” Dainty said, “and Honey Drop, take it easy on the drums.”

“Sure thing, Dainty,” he replied.

A few more heads turned towards them as they checked their instruments. Dainty noticed that Steel Strings was wearing a guitar strap, so maybe Pinkie Pie’s suggestion wasn’t in vain.

Just as he thought of her, Dainty turned his head and spotted her, a little far away. She grinned and nodded. “Good luck to you,” she yelled. “You’re gonna be awesome, Honey Drop!”

“Thank you, Pinkie Pie!” he shouted back. “What an amazing mare.”

“She’s formidable,” Steel Strings said. “I think I’m ready. You guys wanna start right away?”

“We still have a few minutes before our allotted time,” River Mouth said, checking the clock tower. “Let’s just wait.”

“Argh, I’m so nervous,” Dainty said, stretching his limbs. “I wanna start this thing right away.”

“You sure? Maybe we can just start now,” Hard Fiber said.

“Why don’t we do a quick sound check?” Steel Strings said. “Let’s just play something and see how it turns out.”

“Okay, what about Theorem?” Dainty said.

“Yeah, sure,” River Mouth said.

“Hey, Pinkie Pie,” Steel Strings called out, waving a hoof. “Can you help us check the sound?”

“Sure!” she replied, rushing closer to the stage.

The band started to play, and Pinkie started to assist the process: “More vocals! Cut the bass on the guitars! Honey Drop, play a little softer! More guitar, I think… I think that’s fine!”

A few heads were turning among the crowd to look at the band, and they cut the song halfway when they thought they were done.

“Thanks for the assistance, Pinkie,” Dainty said. “Hope you enjoy the show.”

“I sure will! Good luck!” she replied, and immediately darted off.

“Well, then, let’s get started?” Steel said.

Dainty felt his heart pump harder and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

He cleared his throat and stepped towards the mic, finally facing the crowd directly for the first time.

“Hello, everypony,” he said. “We’re The Ponyville Rag, and we’re gonna play some songs for you.”

He gestured to Steel Strings, who started playing the first chords of Almost by Mistake, and the band soon joined. He couldn’t hear the band as well as he wished he could, but he could follow the beat and knew exactly where he was. He trembled as he approached the mic to start singing, but he went along fine.

Hard Fiber focused mostly on his own playing, watching his hooves, and occasionally looking at the other musicians. Steel Strings watched Dainty, but also glanced at the crowd, and noticed how ponies would often look at them. Two or three ponies gathered near the stage and bobbed their heads gently. River Mouth grooved along to the song, keeping her bass line steady, but still throwing a few flourishes here and there. Meanwhile, Honey Drop was having the time of his life, and would often glance at Pinkie, who always gave him an encouraging smile.

After the first chorus, Dainty grabbed the mic from the stand and started to move around the stage, improvising poses and gestures to go with the lyrics, making eye contact with the ponies who hung near the stage, as well as those who glanced while they walked near. He noticed foals would be transfixed by the music, and one almost got lost from their parents and had to rush after them.

Still, something bothered him sometimes. In the distance, he kept hearing some shouts, but he couldn’t distinguish what they were saying. He just tried to focus on the music, and, once the lyrics were over, he wandered around the stage, joining his bandmates and grooving along with them.

Once the song was over, they heard a few hoof claps. Pinkie whistled and cheered from afar, and Dainty noticed Fluttershy was there with her, watching and clapping too. Honey Drop held his drumsticks in the air. Dainty rushed to the mic.

“Thank you, thank you, everypony!” he said.

“Get out of there!” he heard somepony scream.

Dainty located two ponies standing near a stand, who were clearly laughing at them. Steel Strings also noticed the hecklers, but just shook his head.

In another stand, another pony also noticed the pair. Meteorite Shower couldn’t help but scoff. “Fucking losers,” she grumbled to herself.

“Ya said somethin’, Meteorite?” Applejack said, glancing at her.

The pegasus gulped, hoping she hadn’t caught what she had said. “Oh, it’s… it’s just those hecklers. They’re annoying me.”

“Heh, there’s always somepony tryin’ ta spoil the party,” AJ replied. “Are ya enjoyin’ the music?”

“Yeah,” Meteorite replied, trying to be discreet. “The singer, he’s… he’s a friend of mine.”

“Oh, Ah see! Yeah, must be a real bummer seein’ some mean ponies makin’ fun of yer friend.”

“It is.”

Dainty tried to ignore the pair’s shouts, and just kept talking. “This song we’ve played is called Almost by Mistake, and it was written by a band called The Town Troop. We made this band just to play their songs, and we hope you’ll enjoy them.”

“Not even my grandma likes that band!”

“This next one is called Is It,” he said, and stepped away from the mic. “Let’s do it.”

Honey Drop did the count in, and they launched into the song. Dainty tried to enjoy himself and listen to the sound of the band, regardless of any heckles. After all, most ponies seemed to be fine with the music. He didn’t expect them to be loved by everypony, and he imagined most of the crowd would be indifferent. Still, he kept seeing heads bobbing.

At one point, in shock, he noticed there were some bits at the edge of the stage. He wasn’t expecting that, and he always said to the band that they weren’t doing this for money. Still, he just went on singing.

The song ended, and he heard slightly stronger clapping this time. Steel Strings dragged the case of his guitar to the edge of the stage, and put the bits inside it. Dainty felt like telling ponies not to give any money, but he also thought that could sound really rude.

“Thank you!” he said on the mic. “These songs all talk about feelings we get sometimes, and this next song is about how some ponies sometimes get together, and how tricky that can be. It’s about something we all look for, and sometimes fail to get. It’s called It’s Too Early.”

“Stop making that noise!”

Dainty sighed, and the song started. He tried to focus on his tiny audience, and, when he started to sing, he noticed a light pink pegasus with a golden mane was singing along to the song, clearly knowing the lyrics. Dainty was surprised to find another fan of the band, and was invigorated by that.

River Mouth grooved with the bass line, and noticed how Hard Fiber was focused on his playing, but he looked joyful and relaxed. Steel Strings was playing the guitar, as there had been no way to bring a piano to the stage, and he moved around, with a hint of a smile. The musicians kept exchanging glances and smiles, encouraging each other.

At one point, Steel saw one of the hecklers throwing something at the stage. It was a crumpled piece of paper, which bounced off of Dainty’s mane and fell on the floor. He made an effort not to frown in disgust, but what Dainty did next left him dazzled: he grabbed the ball of paper and started to play with it, throwing it in the air and bouncing it off his hoof while he sang. In the instrumental break, Dainty kept playing with the ball, and didn’t even bother looking at the hecklers, figuring it was better not to acknowledge them.

The band was legitimately firing on all cylinders, and, towards the end, the song gained all the intensity that Dainty kept asking in rehearsals. When it ended, he heard some effusive applause from some ponies near the stage, while some others in the crowd clapped too. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie clapped and cheered from their spot.

Meteorite was getting frustrated by the heckling, as the two ponies kept shouting jokes.

“Woohoo! You’re awesome, Dainty Tunes!” she shouted. “You all rock!”

Applejack watched her with the corner of her eyes, slightly amused, but hoping she wouldn’t get too distracted from her work.

“Hey! Keep your mouth shut, will you?” one of the hecklers said to Meteorite.

“Go back to work,” the other one said, with a smirk.

Meteorite gazed at them with shocked eyes.

“Hey!” Applejack retorted. “Leave mah employee alone, ya two! She’ll cheer if she wants to, so deal with it!”

“And what are you gonna do about it, huh?” the first heckler said.

Applejack puffed up her chest and scowled at them. “Ya sure ya wanna see?”

The second heckler nudged the first one, as he spotted Big Mac appearing from behind some crates, to check what was going on.

As embarrassed as she was, Meteorite tried to keep her brave face on.

“Come on, let’s get the hay outta here,” the first heckler said, and the two went off their way.

“Ya okay, Meteorite?” AJ said as the two left their line of sight.

“Yeah, I am,” she said, as she kept hearing Dainty saying something. “I’m sorry I put you through this.”

“It ain’t yer fault, sugarcube. Just don’t get too distracted from yer work, alright?”

“Yes, sure, sure!” Meteorite replied, startled.

Dainty would make those small speeches in between songs, which ended up giving some time for his bandmates to prepare, tune their instruments, and so on. The rest of the show went on without incidents, and they played song after song, until they reached the last one.

“This was the song that introduced me to this band, and made me fall in love with them,” Dainty said. “And for that, I want to thank my rhythm guitarist, Steel Strings, who introduced the song to me, and got this whole thing started. This is called Lost Time, and it’s our last song for today. I hope you have enjoyed the show, you’ve been a marvellous audience, and we thank you deeply. Hit it, Fiber!”

Hard Fiber played the opening arpeggio, and they launched into the song. All the band members were fully into it, and Dainty sang with heightened emotion by performing a song that meant so much to him. It was a powerful moment for him, and, when they were done, the applause surprised him. The pink pony cheered enthusiastically, just as Pinkie and Fluttershy did on the other side.

“Steel Strings on rhythm guitar! Hard Fiber on lead guitar! River Mouth on bass guitar! Honey Drop on the drums! And I’m Dainty Tunes on lead vocals. We’re The Ponyville Rag, and this has been an honour to us! Thank you all! Take care! Enjoy the day.”

There was some more clapping, and the ponies in the crowd quickly went back to their regular activities. The ponies near the stage dispersed, except for the pink one.

“You guys were great!” she yelled. “The Town Troop rocks! Thank you!”

“Thank you, my dear!” Dainty replied with a smile.

“Yeah!” Honey Drop said from the back. “You were awesome!”

She stepped away with a grin and turned away, at last.

The band was already disassembling their equipment when Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy approached the stage.

“Guys,” Pinkie said, her eyes intensely wide. “That was amazing! You were, like, so full of energy, and the music sounded great, and your stage presence? Wow! I said you should make this a spectacle, and guess what? You were spectacular!”

Dainty gave a timid smile. “Aw, shucks, Pinkie! If you liked it, I’m happy already.”

“Oh, it was a nice show,” Fluttershy said. “You sounded lovely... maybe a bit too loud, but lovely.”

“You girls are very kind,” River Mouth said. “Thanks!”

Pinkie approached Honey Drop to talk to him, presumably about his drumming, and Fluttershy approached River Mouth. Dainty looked at the guitar case at the end of the stage. It wasn’t that full of bits, but they weren’t supposed to be there.

“We can’t take that money,” he said, approaching Steel Strings. ”We’re not doing this for profit, you know.”

“You’re really concerned about this, aren’t you?” Steel replied.

“I promised Shimmering Chord that I wouldn’t make money from their songs, and I’m not breaking that promise.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Steel said. “But what do we do with the money?”

“We could donate it, maybe,” Hard Fiber said. “There’s a donation box near the start of the market. I think it’s for the orphanage.”

“That’s a great idea, Fiber,” Dainty said. “Great idea. I’ll go deposit the money, then.”

Dainty put on his saddlebag and stored the bits in a separate slot, and went off to find the donation box. After he put away the money, he heard a familiar voice on his way to the stage.

“Hey, Danty Tunes! Great show! Congrats, buddy!”

He turned to Meteorite and gave her a shy wave.

“Aw, thanks, Meteorite!”

Applejack and Big Mac both looked at him and gave him an approving nod. Dainty was elated, but also a little embarrassed by the attention, so he just thanked again and rushed to the stage.

“It ain’t quite mah style of music,” Applejack said, “but it wasn’t too bad, ah say.”

“Eeeyup!” Big Mac replied, turning back to his work.

The band finished putting their equipment on the carts. The plan was to take them to Dainty’s house, and then go back to town to eat something and celebrate. They started to chat about assorted things about the show on their way back, while Dainty seemed to be absorbed by thoughts.

“So? What did you think, Dainty?” Steel said.

“We have to improve,” he replied.

River Mouth felt a bit of a shudder at his tone. Honey Drop frowned.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I loved the experience,” Dainty went on, “but we still have a lot of things to work on. We made some mistakes we never made in rehearsals, and I think the tempo was a bit sloppy. But we can work on it.”

“I’m willing to cut ourselves some slack,” River Mouth said. “It was our first gig, we were all pretty nervous. Most of us never played live.”

“Yeah,” Hard Fiber said. “Considering this was our first time, we were pretty awesome.”

“Yes, I agree with you, guys,” Dainty said. “I loved doing this with you. But, if we’re going to take this forward and keep playing, there’s still room for improvement, so let’s not get too confident. That’s all I’m saying.”

He suddenly stopped walking, and the others turned to him. “I mean, honestly, this was one of the best days of my life,” Dainty said, daring to give an honest smile. “Remember when I asked you to put all your feelings and your emotions into the music and be amazing? You did exactly that. And I was amazing because you were. I honestly couldn’t ask for a better band…”

Before Dainty started to sob, Steel Strings opened a smile and went to hug him. “Don’t get corny now, buddy! Come on now!”

“We were all amazing, Dainty,” Honey Drop said. “And we did all this because of you.”

“This is only the beginning, folks, trust me,” Dainty said. “Trust me.”

“Of course, dude,” Steel Strings said. “Come on, let’s put our stuff away and eat something!”

The band headed for a restaurant to have lunch and chat, and everypony was beaming with joy and excitement. Sometimes they joked about the hecklers, even though Dainty tried not to think much about them.

“It’s kinda sad, because we’ll probably come across some ponies that hate the band, and they just don’t want us to do our thing,” Steel Strings said. “I couldn’t believe they had the nerve to do that in public.”

“Yeah, what were they even thinking?” River Mouth said. “At least they left in the middle of the show.”

“I saw them arguing with somepony in one of the stands,” Hard Fiber said. “I guess we weren’t the only ones who felt aggravated.”

“I don’t even care about those guys,” Honey Drop said. “All I know is this day was amazing, and I wish I could live this all over again tomorrow.”

“Hey, don’t get nostalgic yet!” Dainty said. “We still have to learn more songs and put on, like, our real first concert. That was just an appetizer.”

“Yeah, but it was just so good,” he replied. “Did you see those ponies watching us near the stage? We, like, have actual fans!”

“I suppose they’re more fans of The Town Troop, though,” Dainty mused.

“I don’t care! They’re our fans now!” Honey shot back, laughing.

They carried on chatting through lunch, and, since they had some free time during that afternoon, they hung out together for a while, and headed back to Dainty’s house. Honey Drop was the first one to depart, since he had things to do at the bee farm, and shortly after that, River Mouth left, as she had some studying to do. They scheduled their next rehearsal before the two left, and the remaining three remained chatting there.

The sun was nearly setting when Hard Fiber said he had to leave, and went off with his guitar and amplifier. Steel Strings stood behind, and Dainty looked at him and smiled.

“It’s a nice day outside,” Steel said. “What do you say we enjoy the rest of the afternoon?”

Dainty looked outside. It was a little late. “I guess we can do that.”

“Come on, let’s go to the lake,” Steel said.

They strolled all the way to Saddle Lake, idly chatting about small things; nothing about that day’s gig, as it felt like they had exhausted the things to talk about. As they sat by the margin of the lake, the sun was nearly setting, and they found themselves just observing the scenery, and hearing the peaceful sounds of their empty surroundings.

“How do you feel, Dainty Tunes?” Steel said.

Dainty took a deep breath and pondered about that question. For some reason, he felt it deserved something more than just a simple, generic answer.

“I feel…” He frowned, thinking deeply. “This is hard to answer, you know. I feel… something funny, because I feel sort of at peace, but I also… I also wanna do this again. Like, right now.”

“By ‘this’, you mean the gig?”

“Yeah,” Dainty said. “You know, I was worried that something could go terribly wrong… I dunno, maybe I’d get up there and try to sing and the words wouldn’t come out, or I’d lose my voice due to nerves… or somepony would forget the songs or lose the beat and we would fall apart and embarrass ourselves… I mean, it’s not like I was expecting you guys to screw up, I was… I was just scared. I tried not to think about everything, but the fear was real. And then… then everything went nearly perfect. It was thrilling to be up there, singing, making music for other ponies… It was magical. I don’t think there’s anything else that could feel that good.”

Steel smiled and nodded.

“Well, that is,” Dainty said with a chuckle, “I can think of something else that could feel as good as that, but… heh heh, let’s leave it at that.”

Dainty looked at Steel’s face and saw a smile that was, at the same time, innocent and cheeky.

“But anyway… I’m so, so very glad for having done this together with you, guys. You made this so much better…”

Steel took a deep breath and looked at the lake. “I enjoyed this too. I enjoyed… I loved watching you on stage, Dainty. You were… so radiant, so lively, so…” He stamped a hoof on the grass and puffed gently. “Oh, who am I kidding. You were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Dainty.”

Steel didn’t dare turn to look at him. Dainty just couldn’t help but wonder how deep that compliment was supposed to be: “beautiful” in what sense? Artistic or…?

“I don’t want to hold this back any longer,” Steel went on. “Your face is hypnotic. I want to… I need to be with you. I need… I need you.”

Dainty finally looked at Steel, and, even though he could only see the side of his face, he could see the tension in his expression. Hesitating for a moment, he moved his hoof and gently put it on top of Steel’s hoof. Dainty saw him give a trembling sigh and close his eyes.

Then, Dainty brought his other hoof to Steel’s face, and softly turned it so they could look straight into each other’s eyes.

Not a word was said. They only approached and let the inevitable happen.

The sun set, and crickets started to chirp.

Steel Strings rested his head on Dainty’s shoulder, feeling his scent.

“Maybe we could… go back to your house?” Steel murmured. “There’s… something I want you to do with me.”

Dainty trembled with expectation. “And what would that be?

Steel reeled back a little so he could see Dainty’s face, looked at the grass, and back at him. “Can you teach me what that D Dorian thing is after all?”

They both laughed. Dainty wanted to swear at him, but just laughed.

“Is that all you want from me?” he said.

Steel shook his head. “No, sweetheart. Maybe… you could show me what’s that thing that feels as good as playing music.”

“Oh, that I can do,” Dainty replied, his eyelids slightly closed.

They got up and slowly made their way back to Dainty’s house.

“You know, Steel Strings,” Dainty said as the stars twinkled outside. “I correct myself: this has been the best day of my life.”

“I think I can say the same, sweetheart.”

Author's Note

Illustration done by me, inspired by a photograph in the inlay of Legião Urbana's second LP, Dois.

Track 6: Metal Against the Clouds

The Ponyville Rag’s first rehearsal after the gig had been scheduled for Wednesday, but Steel Strings and Dainty Tunes met every day since that Saturday, and it wasn’t only because of music.

Even Dainty’s work colleagues had noticed he looked giddy, almost oblivious at times, but also more impatient than usual as they approached the end of the shift.

“Whenever that happens, there’s only one explanation,” Jack Hammer said one day when he was having lunch with Iron Bolt and Dainty: “Somepony’s found love.”

Dainty laughed timidly, and that was enough confirmation for his two colleagues. He certainly didn’t deny.

When Wednesday came, Dainty Tunes was electric. The thought of getting back together with his band seemed far more exciting and pleasurable than it ever did, and he kept planning in his head how the rehearsal should go. As usual, Steel Strings arrived early, but River Mouth was the next to come. Honey Drop took longer than usual to arrive, and Hard Fiber arrived less than a minute after him.

Dainty had the impression that Honey was a little less enthusiastic than he usually was, which was odd, considering the success of their gig. Still, he thought, everypony had the right to have a bad day sometimes, so maybe it was just that.

“So, here’s my plan,” Dainty said. “I tried writing down the things I could remember noticing during the gig, that I think we should improve. It’s nothing big, like, no serious mistakes or anything, but I think it’s worth working on them a little more. And then, I wanted us to learn a new song, as I think we should keep building our repertoire for a bigger show.”

“Yeah, sounds fair,” River Mouth said. “I also thought of a few things to mention, so maybe we could discuss them?”

“Of course, of course!” Dainty said. “I already talked about them with Steel Strings, but you guys should also give your input and discuss. I mean, maybe you see things differently than we do.”

They proceeded to discuss each song individually. Most of the problems they noticed involved transitions among the different parts of each song, sometimes a bass line or guitar line that worked better, certain drum fills and such, though they didn’t want every single note to be played the same all the time.

“We shouldn’t lose spontaneity,” River Mouth said. “If we always play the same, it gets kinda boring.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Hard Fiber said.

“You’re totally right,” Dainty said. “I think, like, it’s just some things that we should agree on, and leave the rest open for changes.”

And so, they played each song, discussing them afterwards. It didn’t take too long, and Dainty felt he had enough time to introduce a new song to them.

“This is one of my personal favourites,” he said, grabbing the record. “It’s called Twenty Nine, and, well, I’m kinda asking you guys to play this one as a bit of a favour to me, because I love this song to bits. So, if we get to play it live, it would be amazing.”

“Alright, let’s give it a try,” Hard Fiber said.

They sat around, and Dainty played the song a few times. They discussed its different parts, the harmony and the rhythm. Hard Fiber remarked how it was the first song he was learning that had a key change.

“Yeah, it’s true, it goes from G major to A major before the ending,” Dainty said. “But the harmony is mostly the same.”

“Well, I think I’m ready to try it,” River Mouth said.

Dainty noticed Honey Drop was unusually quiet, and he had an uncertain look in his face. He scratched the back of his neck with one of his drumsticks.

“I dunno, dude, the drum rhythm sounds kinda complicated,” he said, looking at the door.

“Well, try your best for now, Honey,” Dainty said. “It doesn’t need to sound perfect. You can improve it at home.”

“Yeah, I guess?” he replied. “Okay, I’ll try.”

They got in position, and Dainty asked for Honey to do a count in. He did so, and they launched into the song, but there was trouble immediately. Honey just wasn’t able to play the drum part correctly, and even though the other band members still managed to play it just fine, the drums kept going off the rails.

“Okay, stop, stop,” Dainty said, softly.

River Mouth was relieved not to hear the elongated “stooooop” he would often say.

“I’m sorry, guys, but this is hard,” Honey said.

“Well, yes, it’s a bit trickier than usual, but I think you can pull it off, buddy,” Dainty said. “Why don’t we listen to the song again and you try to follow along?”

Honey shrugged. “I guess.”

“Okay, let’s do that.”

Dainty put the song again, and watched as Honey tried to lightly tap the drums to the rhythm but he was having trouble. The final part of the song, that had a more straight rhythm, was fine for him, but the more complex pattern at the beginning was too much for him.

“I’m sorry, Dainty, but it just won’t come out,” Honey said.

“Okay, okay, look,” Dainty replied, approaching him. “Let’s not keep insisting for today. Why don’t you take the record to your home and show it to Pinkie Pie? I’m sure she can teach you how to play that, and we’ll try to play the song some other day.”

Honey Drop was already shaking his head ever since her name was mentioned. “Pinkie Pie’s not my teacher anymore,” he said. “My parents told her she was taking too much of my time, and I had to choose between the lessons or the band. It couldn’t be both… and, well, I chose you, guys. I couldn’t quit the band.”

“Well, that’s… that’s a big shame, Honey,” Dainty said, unsure of what else to say. “You were making great progress with her, but… well, it’s… It’s your parents’ decision, so…”

“They’re a pair of losers, aren’t they?” Honey said, his eyes laden with resentment.

Dainty gulped. “Well, gee, Honey, they’re your parents, I can’t say that…” He sighed. “Well. Anyway, you can still take the record home and try to learn the drum part at your own pace. Think of this as your homework, okay? When you learn it, that’ll be amazing, but while you don’t, we’ll just learn other songs. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” Honey replied with a shrug.

“Okay. Then it’s our deal,” Dainty said, returning to his position, unable to hide his disappointment that they’d have to temporarily abandon the song. “Well, I guess we can learn another one, then, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steel Strings said. “I’ve been thinking of Seven Cities myself.”

“Ooh, that’s a good one!” Dainty said. “Yeah. Don’t worry, Honey, that one will be a piece of cake for you, okay?”

He immediately regretted, as he intended to sound encouraging, but that might as well sound like a mockery. Honey Drop didn’t seem to react negatively, though, so he just pointed at the record player. “So, let’s listen?”

The band agreed to join again on Saturday, and Steel Strings stood with Dainty Tunes after the others left. Steel gave him a gentle smile and kissed him, and the two sat on the bed.

“So, Steel, my love,” Dainty said, glancing out the window. “We’re, um, not going to rehearse on Friday, so I thought… well, it’s been a while since I last went out with my workmates, so I thought this Friday night, I might… you know, go out with them…”

Steel watched him with a corner of his eye. “So we wouldn’t see each other, is that it? Well, it’s no problem,” he said. “I wouldn’t forbid you from seeing your friends.”

“Oh, nice…” Dainty scratched his mane. “Well, of course, we could still see each other, if you’re willing to go to the pub with us… but, if you’re not comfortable being around my friends, I wouldn’t demand that from you.”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart,” Steel replied. “Well, it’s up to your friends too, I mean, maybe they’re not comfortable with me being around. But I’d go with you, no problem at all.”

“Aw, thanks, Steel,” Dainty said. “Okay, so I’ll pick you up in your house after work, okay?”

“Sure thing, love.”

After the shift was over on Friday, instead of going straight to the Bamboo Pub with Iron Bolt and Jack Hammer, Dainty went off to Steel Strings’s house to pick him up. Then, the four would meet in front of the pub.

Steel greeted him with a gentle smile. Dainty had learned to recognise the deep affection in his subtlest expressions, and seeing his face always felt like a warm hug.

“Are you ready to go, love?” Dainty said.

“Yes, sure,” Steel replied, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get going.”

They headed off to the pub, and met Dainty’s friends by the front door.

“Hey, guys, thanks for waiting for us,” Dainty said.

“No problem, pal,” Jack Hammer replied, turning to Steel. “So, you’re Dainty’s friend? Nice to meet you, buddy. I’m Jack Hammer, and this here is Iron Bolt.”

“It’s my pleasure. I’m Steel Strings.”

“So you’re playing together in a band, huh?” Iron said, as they went inside the pub. “That’s really cool.”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty great,” Steel said. “We played a little gig on the town square last weekend. It was fun.”

“You did?” Jack Hammer said, as the waiter led them to their usual table. “You should’ve let us know, Dainty. Not that I’m a big fan of the songs you play, but it would have been nice to watch you.”

“Well, I… I didn’t know if you’d be interested,” Dainty said, a little timidly. “But I’ll let you know next time.”

“Yeah, do so, pal,” Iron replied. “So, how many are in your band?”

Dainty and Steel went on talking a little about the other band members, their rehearsals and process for learning songs. Iron Bolt and Jack Hammer talked a little about their musical preferences, which is something they hardly ever talked about, and the conversation went along other paths.

Steel Strings noticed the pub was getting more full and noisy as the evening went on, though that didn’t bother him at all. Sometimes Iron and Hammer would engage in a conversation among themselves, and Steel and Dainty would start talking about something else in parallel for a moment. Dainty noticed Steel kept giving him those sweet and involuntary smiles, though he was very discreet with showing affection otherwise. That wasn’t such an inviting place for that.

At one point, Dainty had the impression that a young stallion, who had just come out of the bathroom, stopped near their table and stared at them for a moment, but Dainty didn’t want to let him know that he had noticed.

“Hey, Lime Peel,” Dainty heard in a loud, distinct voice, coming from a table nearby, “isn’t that the loser who was playing that Town Troop crap the other day?”

Dainty noticed Steel’s expression freezing. Iron Bolt and Jack Hammer frowned and exchanged glances.

“Yeah, that’s right!” another voice said. “In fact, there’s two of them!”

Steel looked at Dainty, as if to get the confirmation he needed: those were the ponies that had been heckling them during their gig.

“Imagine the gall of coming to this place after that?”

Steel Strings puffed and looked down at the table. “I can’t believe it,” he grumbled.

“Relax, Steel, don’t get upset,” Dainty said, resting a hoof on his.

“I thought this pub was restricted to ponies with good taste!” the other pony said. “They gotta tighten the security.”

Steel Strings couldn’t help but try to glance to the table where the insults were coming from: aside from the two hecklers, there was a mare sitting with them. She had her back turned to him, so he couldn’t see how she was reacting.

Dainty noticed that the two hecklers kept telling other ponies around them about it, and he noticed varying reactions around the pub; some ponies looked at Steel and him with disdain, while others seemed annoyed at all the heckling, and he even heard a “shut up already!” coming from the other end of the pub.

“Don’t those guys have anything better to do?” Jack Hammer said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, imagine coming to a pub only to pester somepony else,” Iron Bolt replied.

“They were heckling us at our gig,” Dainty said, with a derisive smile. “I think they just don’t have much fun in their lives.”

The four ponies kept hearing the occasional provocation, and Dainty was getting uncomfortable with Steel Strings, who was completely stiff and tense, as if about to explode at any moment. He wished to say something that would help him relax, but he was afraid he’d just make him snap instead.

“Imagine starting a band to play that garbage?” the first heckler said out loud. “What a bunch of losers.”

“Okay, quit it, already!” a loud, booming voice from afar.

Dainty glanced with the corner of his eyes, and saw the owner of the bar storming out from behind the counter.

“Stop that. You’re bothering my clients, and I don’t want that kind of ruckus in here. You hear me?”

“Okay, okay,” the second heckler said, in a begrudging tone.

Steel Strings deflated a bit, but he couldn’t raise his eyes to meet Dainty’s gaze.

“That sucks, pal,” Jack Hammer said, “but I think they’re gonna stop it now.”

“Yeah, love, it’s over,” Dainty said, touching his hoof again.

The other three tried to get the conversation going again, but Steel wouldn’t relax. He kept glancing around the place, and noticed looks that ranged from unwelcoming to hostile. The hecklers, even though they were silent, still glared at them, and Steel couldn’t ignore it. The whole place had become inhospitable to him.

Dainty got startled when he saw Steel abruptly pushing his chair back and getting up.

“I can’t stay here any longer, guys, sorry,” he mumbled.

“Wait, love!” Dainty said, trying to reach out to him, but Steel was already too far.

“Stay there with your friends, Dainty, I’m going home,” he replied, and just headed for the counter.

Dainty watched him, with desolate eyes, and glanced at his friends.

“That’s too bad, pal,” Iron Bolt said. “Real bummer.”

“I’m sorry, guys, but I have to go after him,” Dainty said, already pushing his chair back.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Jack Hammer said.

Dainty was about to get up, but he hesitated for a moment. “I’m sorry to disappoint you… I just…”

Iron Bolt gave him a savvy glance. “Go with him, pal. He needs you.”

Dainty paused and nodded. “Okay, thanks, guys.”

He got up and rushed towards Steel, who was getting some bits from his coat pocket to pay for one of the drinks. Dainty asked the owner’s wife to split the bill more evenly, and the two paid their bill.

“I’m sorry for what they did to you,” she said.

“It’s not your fault,” Steel Strings replied, sadly. “Don’t worry.”

He turned to leave, and Dainty offered a sorry smile to her before following him outside the pub.

“You should’ve stayed in there with your friends, Dainty,” Steel said, as he stared at the night sky. “I didn’t want to spoil your night.”

“You didn’t spoil anything, love,” Dainty replied. “Those jerks did. I… I’d just rather stay with you. Well, I’d rather stay with you and my friends, but I… I couldn’t force you to stay in there.”

“I couldn’t stand them looking at us and judging us,” Steel said, bitterly. “Those… Why do they have to be like that? Why treat us like that, just because we like a band?… By Celestia…”

“Yes, it’s silly, love, but what can we do?” Dainty said. “Look, let’s not worry about that anymore… Why don’t we go out for a walk? Let’s enjoy the night?”

Steel shrugged. “Guess we can do that.”

They strolled around the darkened and quiet streets until they found some benches. Dainty climbed and sat on one of them, and Steel lay on the bench, resting his head on Dainty’s lap.

Steel sighed, as Dainty gently stroked his mane.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart… I wish I could be in a better mood, but I… Those ponies just ruined everything.”

“Steel, don’t worry about that, my love.”

“Yeah, but now you have to put up with my moodiness…”

“But so what?” Dainty replied. “I don’t wanna stay with you only when you’re happy. I’ll be here for you when you’re feeling down too. I’m not some fair weather friend, you know… or fair weather boyfriend, I should say…”

Steel turned to look up at him, with a surprised look. “Boyfriend, huh?”

“Well, yeah,” Dainty said, sheepish. “I guess we never formalised anything, but…”

“You want to?” Steel said gently.

Dainty looked down at him, with a serene smile. “I love you, Steel Strings.”

Steel took a deep, trembling breath. “I love you too, Dainty.”

Dainty gently stroked his face, and they just gazed into each other’s eyes for a long time, as the soft sounds of the night surrounded them.

“I, uh… would you mind… if I spent the night with you?” Steel said.

Dainty turned his head a little, still looking at him, with a mischievous smile. “Do you even need to ask that?”

Steel Strings looked away, feigning shyness.

“Come on, love,” Dainty said, gently nudging him to get up.

They got up from the bench and headed towards Dainty’s house.

Steel Strings and Dainty Tunes spent the first part of Saturday together, and waited for their bandmates to start rehearsing. Once again, Honey Drop arrived later than usual, and they discussed their plans for the afternoon while the drum kit was assembled.

“I thought we’d start with the song we started on Thursday, what do you think?” Dainty said.

“Yeah, let’s get that one finished, I guess,” Hard Fiber said. “Then maybe we can start on another one. I don’t think we need to play all the songs we already know. They’re pretty good already.”

“Yeah, I think we can play more new songs now,” River Mouth said.

“If you think so, then I’m into it,” Dainty said.

River made a little pause. “I just… well, there’s something I have to say.” The others stopped to look at her, and she awkwardly turned her gaze away. “Well, starting this week, I’ll be… doing some field work in a lake away from here. So, for the next few months, I won’t be fully available.”

Dainty felt a pit in his stomach start to form. “Oh… well, how is that gonna work?”

“Well, I have to depart on Sundays, and I return on Wednesday nights to do more lab work here,” she said. “I should be available for rehearsals from Thursday to Saturday, but not on the other days.”

“Oh, well, we can still work with that, then,” Hard Fiber said.

“Yeah,” Honey said, looking very relieved. “We just have to keep that in mind when doing our schedule.”

“I think we should be fine,” Dainty said. “And, I mean, it’s work. That’s your top priority.”

“Yes, and it’s something I’m really eager to do, too,” she replied. “We’re working on the preservation of a lake, which has started to display an odd kind of ecological unbalance. We need to figure out what’s going on, study the risks and analyse how we can stop or mitigate them.”

“Oh, wow, that sounds pretty big,” Dainty Tunes said. “Good luck with your work, River! And let us know how it turns out.”

“Sure, I’ll keep you updated. Thanks, Dainty.”

“Well, let’s get started?” he said, going to his microphone. “Seven Cities. I’m ready when you are.”

Honey Drop finished preparing his drums, and did a count in. As the band played, Hard Fiber still made a few mistakes, showing he didn’t remember most of the song transitions. They decided to listen to the song again, and play a few more passes before it became tighter, and they looked satisfied.

“So, let’s get started on something new?” Fiber said.

“Well, we have Twenty Nine, that Honey Drop said would study at home,” Dainty said. “How’s the song coming along, Honey?”

Honey stretched his forelegs and shook his head. “I can’t play that song, Dainty. I just can’t.”

Dainty deflated a little, staring at him with his head slightly fallen to the side. “Come on, Honey, don’t say that. It might not be easy, but I’m sure you can play it.”

“No, really, I tried,” he said emphatically. “I’m telling you, it just won’t come out. And now that my parents told Pinkie to stop teaching me, there’s no chance I could ever learn it.”

Dainty sighed. “Look, maybe you have to try a little harder, Honey Drop,” he said. “I can’t say that everything I learned to play was easy. Some of it took real effort, and some of it actually felt impossible, but eventually I found a way.”

“Dude, you’re a musician,” Honey Drop replied, folding his forelegs. “You were born to do this. I wasn’t. I’m just a dude who was born to taste honey and get stung by bees all day long, and I’m telling you, if I can’t do it, it’s because I can’t learn how to play that stupid song.”

Dainty’s eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped. “Stupid? That’s one of my favourite songs, Honey Drop!” he said, indignant. “It means a lot to me, so don’t say that! That’s insensitive.”

“But you are being insensitive to what I say, too,” Honey replied, shrugging.

“That doesn’t give you the right to say those things, though!” Dainty said, frowning.

Before he could go on, Steel Strings approached him and laid a hoof on his shoulder, looking at him with a gentle sternness. “Dainty, please. Stay calm.”

Dainty looked at Steel, and his expression softened a little, almost involuntarily. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Dainty sighed. “Okay, I’ll… I’m going overboard, love. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Steel said. “Take a deep breath and let’s move on, alright?”

Dainty hadn’t noticed, but Honey had been staring at them, his mouth slightly agape. “Wait a… Hold on, are you two having a… a thing?”

The two turned to look at him at the same beat. “What did you say?” Dainty said.

“Oh, that’s brilliant!” Honey shot back, glancing at Fiber and River. “Now they’ll only ever have ears for each other, and they’ll stop listening to anything we say. That’s all we needed.”

Steel just stared at him, in shock. Dainty frowned. “What did you say?” he repeated.

“And worse!” Honey went on, almost ignoring him. “When you guys have a fight, that’s gonna spill over into the band, because you won’t want to be together, but you’ll have to be, and it’s gonna be bad for all of us, because we’ll have to put up with your crap.”

Dainty stepped towards him, stuffing his chest. “Honey Drop, you’re out of line!”

“Dainty, calm down,” Steel said behind him, his voice faded.

“Well, what do you expect me to say, Steel?” Dainty replied, a little gentler, but still furious. “You have no right to get into our personal life, Honey! That’s none of your business! And how dare you talk about we getting into a fight, like that, like you’re predicting it will happen? What do you even know about us?”

“Look, I just don’t want that to get in the way of the band, because…” Honey sighed, trying to keep himself together. “Well, River already can’t stay with us most of the week, and now… now my parents keep getting in the way, saying that… that they can just make me quit the band if it gets in the way of work… They even said they can just…” He pressed his eyelids, as his voice started to waver. “They said they can sell my drum kit if they have to. And now… I don’t wanna lose the band, Dainty! You guys are… you guys are everything to me…”

Dainty couldn’t help but feel his heart getting softer. River and Fiber gave him a compassionate look, but remained silent.

“Honey, no one wants to lose the band,” Dainty said, approaching him. “This is important for all of us. Trust me, we’ll do everything we can to keep it, and my thing with Steel is not… I assure you, we’ll not let it get in the way.”

Honey Drop took a deep breath, his head still hanging low.

“As for your parents… well, they worry about your future, Honey,” he went on. “Work is important. We all love music, but we still have to maintain our livelihood. Your parents are just concerned. You have to give them confidence that you can reconcile your work and your passion. Did you try talking to them?”

Honey scoffed. “Of course. It was the same as talking to the walls. They won’t listen.”

“Well, they’re older than you, Honey, they think differently. You know… when some ponies get old, their priorities change. Everypony loves to do different and exciting things when they’re young, but, when some of them get older, they settle down. They worry about family, and the future, and their stability. You’re young, you’re different from them. Maybe, if you want them to listen to you, you might have to listen to them too.”

“Yeah? And just hear them say that music’s not gonna do any good for me?” Honey said, trying hard not to weep.

Dainty sighed. “Talking to somepony who’s different from us isn’t always easy. But they’re your parents, Honey, they just want what’s best for you. They need to know that you also want what’s best for you and what’s best for them. Maybe try talking to them again, but talk with love. Open your heart. Just try, okay?”

Honey shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll try.”

“Okay, think about this with care, okay?” He made a pause. “As for the song… Look, I’m serious, I really think you can do it. It’s just that… You know… You wanna know what I do when I have to wrap my head around a rhythm like that?”

Honey Drop turned his head to him. “What?”

“Well, what I know is that I have to feel the rhythm in my body,” Dainty said, “so I figure out ways in which I can sing the rhythm out loud and move my body to it. And, when I say sing, I mean just… make these noises to it. Like, this song, when I hear it, I feel it like this: Ta-ki-chi ta-ki-chi, ta-ki-chi ta-ki-chi, Ta! Ki. Ta-ki-chi ta-ki-chi, ta-ki-chi ta-ki-chi, Ta! Ki. You get it? Why don’t you try it?”

Honey frowned at him for a moment, but, slowly, Dainty’s vocalisations started to make sense to him. Dainty also swung his shoulders to the beat, so Honey slowly started to move along, and finally started to repeat the same vocalisations. They kept repeating that rhythmic mantra for a while, while Dainty punctuated some beats with his raised hoof. Honey rehearsed some basic drumming motions in the air with his drumsticks, with a concentrated face, until he stopped singing. Dainty stopped soon after.

“So, you get it?”

“I think I do,” Honey said. “I think… I’ll try this better at home. I’ll try it, Dainty, but I can’t… I can’t assure you it’s gonna work.”

“Okay, don’t worry,” Dainty said, going back to his position. “Remember, this is something for you to do at your own pace. I’m not making demands, alright? When you figure it out, if you figure it out, we’ll try it again. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Honey said, looking a little more encouraged.

“Right, why don’t we try another new song, then?”

Dainty and Steel bid farewell to their bandmates, who agreed to get together again next Thursday, once River Mouth was back in Ponyville. Dainty closed the door, and looked at Steel, a worried look in his face.

“Do you think I was fair with Honey Drop?” he said. “Was I too harsh?”

Steel lightly shrugged. “I don’t think so. I think you were pretty on point.”

“I feel bad for him,” Dainty replied, sitting on the bed next to Steel. “I didn’t want to be nasty to him. I think he must be really stressed out.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have the right to say those things,” Steel said. “You did fine, Dainty, don’t worry.”

Dainty looked at his hindlegs, which swung back and forth. “Yeah, but I’m thinking too… What if Honey Drop is right? What if our relationship does get in the way of the band? That could be a bad thing, couldn’t it?”

Steel paused for a moment, then frowned. “Dainty, are you serious?” He got up from the bed and took a few steps away. “Are you really gonna let that get in the way of your feelings for me?”

Dainty widened his eyes and stuttered for a moment. “No, no, it’s not that— It’s not like I want to let it get in the way, I… I just mean… well, stuff happens, you know,” he said, approaching Steel. “My worry is that things might get in the way against our will. And Honey is right, if it spills over to the band, it’s gonna be bad for everypony.”

Steel puffed lightly. “I just don’t wanna think that something bad could happen to us, Dainty. We love each other, don’t we? Isn’t that a good thing? Shouldn’t that be good for the band?”

“Of course, my love, of course,” Dainty said, bringing his face close to Steel. “I’m… I’m very happy that I’m with you. Honest. If it depends on me, nothing bad will ever happen between us… but it doesn’t depend on me, you know… The world out there… I’ll fight for you. I’ll stay with you, my love, trust me. But we should… protect the others from anything that could happen. That’s all I think.”

Steel gazed at him and gently nodded. “Yeah, I see… It just hurts to think that something could go wrong…”

“I know, baby. Look… I think… What we can do is, whenever we’re working with the band,” Dainty said, “rehearsing, playing together, whatever; everything that’s to do with the band, we’ll keep a strictly professional stance. What do you think? Business is business. Above everything, we have to be bandmates, and keep in good terms.”

“Above everything?” Steel said, lowering one eyebrow. “Dainty, I can’t put anything above our love.”

“Okay, okay, I expressed myself poorly,” Dainty said. “I mean… aside from everything else, we’re bandmates. How about that? Of course our love is more important, Steel, my love, of course it is. But the band is beside that. The band doesn’t have anything to do with that. So, what do you say? Can you remain professional?”

Steel looked at the floor. “I guess… Well, I can try,” he said, looking back at Dainty again. “I’ll do it for you, sweetheart. For you.”

“Okay,” Dainty said, touching his face with his own face. “Thank you, love… You’re wonderful, you know that?”

Steel chuckled. “I think I do, actually.”

Dainty just laughed.

Steel spent the night at Dainty’s house and left by early afternoon, as he had some work to do at his luthier’s workshop.

“Working on a Sunday, love?” Dainty said, feigning frustration. “That’s unacceptable!”

Steel gave a sheepish chuckle. “Yeah, well, I’ve been putting off some jobs for a while now, and I have to get up to speed… I mean, I used to have more time to work before we… well…”

“Oh, now it’s my fault, is it?” Dainty replied, with an accusatory tone. “Yes, of course!”

Steel couldn’t help but find it funny how Dainty couldn’t keep his act for more than half a second; he broke into a grin too easily. Steel smiled. “See, you keep being cute, and I just don’t want to leave you… But, really, I have to go, but… we’ll see each other tomorrow?”

“Yes, sure, love,” Dainty said, kissing his cheek. “Good luck with your work.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Have a lovely day, okay?”

“You too, my lovely.”

Steel left the house, and Dainty sighed as he closed the door.

In a short moment, his mind wandered back to the band, and to Honey Drop’s situation. He had no idea how his conflict with his parents could be solved, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He realised, then, to his surprise, that some fragments of memory started to pop up in his mind: recollections of similar conflicts with his own parents, though they didn’t seem to be related to music. Dainty frowned, as, technically, he didn’t have a past, and he thought it could just be something he was making up from nowhere.

Instead of thinking about that, he focused back on Honey Drop, and an idea started to form. He grabbed a pencil and a sheet of paper, sat at his desk where he’d usually work on music scores, and started writing:

“Dear Mr. and Mrs…”

He pressed the blunt end of the pencil on his chin, realising he didn’t know their names. That was a bad start, but there had to be a way out of that:

“Hello. Even though we haven’t been formally introduced, I’d like to address you as a friend.

My name is Dainty Tunes. I’m a construction worker, and I have been living in Ponyville for several months now. I am also a musician, and have decided to form a band, as a work of passion. All members of the band have regular day time jobs, and we have to find ways of reconciling our paid professions with our musical activities. It can be a lot of work, and it can often be exhausting, but it’s always worthwhile.

Music is not just something we do in our spare hours just to kill time, or as a product of vanity or ego. Music is a way in which we express ourselves, our feelings, our emotions and our outlook on life and the world outside. Music comes from deep inside us, and we can’t shut it down. It compels us to pick up instruments and learn to play, to listen to music and know them like we know the backs of our forehooves. Music is almost as necessary as air and water, and, without it, we feel we would suffocate.

Honey Drop is—and I say this without flattery—a great musician. Not because he has all the skills and technique that we come to expect from a “great musician”, but because of the way he sees and hears music. He feels it in his heart, and the energy that moves him to learn to play the drums flows in his veins. It’s not something he just decided he wanted to do, but something he needs to do. Like the rest of us, he would suffocate without it.

He has told me of his aptitude to work with bees and honey, and how important his work is for your business. I have no doubt he is a fundamental part of your farm, and you would lose a lot if his work were to be compromised. The same is true for my own work in the construction business, and for all of our bandmates in their respective jobs. We have absolute respect for Honey Drop’s profession and your family business, and I’m fully convinced of its importance, not just to your family, but to the Ponyville community as a whole.

The reason why I write this is because I’m also fully convinced that Honey Drop can reconcile his profession and his music, not only in a way that one won’t compromise the other, but in a way they’ll improve each other. The excitement and fulfilment we get from music makes our lives happier and more worthwhile, and this translates directly to a healthier professional life. Likewise, our jobs give us the stability we need to make our music with comfort and confidence, free of external worries. I fully believe this can be the case with Honey Drop as well.

I need you to trust me when I say that, if I had reasons to believe our musical activity was getting in the way of Honey’s regular work, I’d be the first to talk to him. I don’t want the band to be a hurdle for anypony. In fact, I’ve seen Honey Drop become a happier, more confident stallion as his drumming improved. He loves the band dearly—like I love it myself—and anypony can see how much he benefits from it. If you talk to him, I’m sure you’ll see it yourselves, and you’ll come to the conclusion that music is a power for good in his life, and everypony will benefit from that.

I sincerely wish the best for your family and your business, and I assure you that Honey Drop’s work in the band will only be a reason for pride and happiness.

Love,

Dainty Tunes”

He reread the letter a few times, making a few changes and corrections along the way, and let it aside. He’d transfer the sloppy pencil hoofwriting for a neater version some other day, with a fresher mind.

The rehearsal on Thursday wasn’t a particularly smooth one. There weren’t any particular incidents, but Honey Drop played without much enthusiasm, and River Mouth looked more distracted and unaware than usual, though her playing was still good. Hard Fiber had forgotten a couple of important things about the new songs they had been rehearsing, which required extra passes and those songs and some impromptu lessons from Steel Strings. Dainty didn’t even bother asking Honey if he had learnt to play Twenty Nine, as his whole demeanour suggested he hadn’t made any progress, if he even tried.

At least Steel Strings followed rigidly the suggestion of maintaining a professional stance during rehearsals, and his interactions with Dainty were pretty much exactly as they used to be in the beginning.

Still, even with the slower pace, Dainty suggested they start learning a new song, but the process was a little harder this time. The song wasn’t a tough one, but Hard Fiber kept failing to get his parts right, Honey Drop’s playing wasn’t at all invigorating, and River Mouth played strictly by the numbers. Dainty made an effort to inject some energy into the rehearsal, but he felt it was to no avail.

He thought it could be just a temporary thing, a particular day in which things weren’t going too well. Those things happened, so he tried not to get too worried.

As they were preparing to leave, they discussed the day of their next rehearsal.

“Since River Mouth will have to leave again on Sunday, we only have tomorrow or Saturday. What do you think?” Dainty said.

“I’ll be busy tomorrow,” Hard Fiber said, “but I should be free on Saturday, if we do it in the afternoon.”

“Uh, actually, I’ll have to do some stuff with my parents on Saturday,” Honey said. “It’ll take all day… I’m sorry, guys.”

River Mouth looked at them, but realised there’d be no room for negotiation.

“So, we’ll have to leave it for next week, then?” Fiber said.

“I suppose so,” Dainty replied. “I mean, it’s no big deal… Remember, we’re not under a deadline or anything. Let’s just try to keep our parts fresh during the week until we can get together again. How about next Thursday?”

The other four pondered for a second, and agreed.

“Should be fine,” Fiber said.

“Yeah, I think I’ll be free too,” Honey said.

“Okay, then, next Thursday it is,” Dainty said, going over to his desk, while the others started disassembling their equipment.

Dainty approached Honey, and handed him a closed envelope.

“Honey Drop, would you do me a favour?” he said. “Give this to your parents, okay? Don’t open it, just give it to them and let them read it. I… don’t know if this will help much, but I’m making an effort.”

Honey looked at the envelope and took it. “Well, okay, Dainty, thanks.”

The rest of the band remained chatting while they prepared to leave. River Mouth talked a little about her field study, and how it’s far more challenging than she initially assumed, as the lake has difficult access, and the building she’ll stay in her fairly limited resources.

“Sounds pretty tough, River,” Hard Fiber said.

“It is,” she replied, a little concerned, “but it’s important work, and it’s gonna give me a lot of experience in my field. I’ll just have to be strong.”

“We’re with you, River,” Dainty said. “I wish you luck.”

“Thanks, guys, this really means a lot,” River said.

Honey finished putting away his drums in the cart, and the three departed. Dainty sighed as they left, a little uncertain, wondering how things would turn out next week.

He closed the door and turned around, and noticed Steel had been watching him with an eager, impatient smile, and jumped towards him to kiss his face and his lips repeatedly. Dainty was nearly knocked off his hooves.

“Professional stance!” Steel Strings scoffed in between kisses. “You know how hard it is to keep a ‘professional stance’ when I’m around you?”

Dainty giggled. “You’ll have to work on that, I guess!”

“Yeah, because it’s easy for you, huh?” Steel said, holding Dainty’s face with his hooves. “Mr. Professional? Huh?”

Dainty smirked. “Only during business hours, sir.”

Steel smiled and kissed his mouth one last time, before turning around and going to the bed.

“Want some tea, love?” Dainty said, going to the kitchen.

“Hm, I’d prefer to have something else,” Steel said, sitting on the bed, “or somepony else…”

Dainty gave him a wry smile. “Well, I would like some tea, first... You could join me.”

Steel rolled his eyes and sighed, mockingly. “Okay, okay, I’ll join you...“

And so, Dainty headed off to the kitchen to heat the water, while Steel lay in bed, stretching out his legs.

“You know,” Dainty said, “I’ve been thinking about the songs we’ve been playing, and I’m thinking that maybe—”

“Oh, you’re gonna talk about the band now?” Steel said, sitting up.

Dainty looked at him, surprised. “Well… yeah, you know I like to discuss things with you.”

Steel shook his head. “We just spent the whole evening rehearsing together. Don’t you think we could just take a little break?”

“Well… I guess,” Dainty said, shrugging. “But I didn’t expect you’d be so against the idea of talking about music with me.”

“Don’t you think we have… more interesting ways to spend our time together?”

Dainty stared at him for a moment, lost in thought. “Um… well, there are lots of things we can do, sure, but… we can still talk, can’t we? I mean, we used to spend hours just talking about different things, having conversations about music, art, and just life in general… and, well, I always liked the way you talk, the way you elaborate on the way you think, and the way you listen to me, with so much attention… I… kinda miss that, Steel.”

Steel gave him a cold gaze. “Oh. Nice. So you’re unsatisfied because we don’t do enough talking?”

“But, Steel Strings, that’s always been one of the things I love in you the most,” Dainty replied. “We don’t have to just, like, give that up completely just because we’re in love. We can do the… other things, but, well, I love talking to you. I really do.”

Steel’s shoulders fell a little, and he smirked. “Okay. Fine. What do you want me to talk about, then? What do you wanna hear about?”

Dainty still couldn’t understand what that attitude was all about, and had a hard time figuring out how to react. “Well, we could talk about the thing I wanted to talk about in the first place, which is thinking about the songs we’ve been—”

“Oh, of course, the band.” Steel rolled his eyes. “I should have imagined it.”

“Steel, darling, what’s the problem?” Dainty said, rushing to the bed, even though the water was almost boiling by now. “Why are you so against the band now, all of a sudden?”

“Dainty, you asked me to remain ‘professional’ when doing band related stuff,” Steel said, “and I’m just not in the mood for that right now. I want to enjoy your company before I go home,” he said, softening his tone a little. “I wanna be with you. Is that so wrong?”

Dainty took a deep breath and shook his head. “No, it’s not wrong. It’s not. I… didn’t want to make you feel bad. If you don’t wanna talk about the band, then let’s not.” He glanced behind his back. “Let’s just have some tea and then we’ll… we’ll be together. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” Steel said, in a more relaxed tone.

Dainty nodded and headed back to the kitchen to get the boiling water off the stove. He felt a pang of guilt for making Steel feel like that, even though something inside him said there was no reason to feel guilty. Dainty hadn’t done anything wrong, after all; but that sense of guilt just lingered inside him, and he hoped he could get into good terms with Steel again that night.

They had their tea, chatting about small, casual things, and then just enjoyed each other for the rest of the night, before Steel Strings had to leave.

There were too many things buzzing in Dainty’s mind as he tried to sleep, and he felt they wouldn’t settle down too easily.

Dainty was anxious that Thursday. He hoped the rehearsal would wash away the bad feelings he got from the previous week, and they’d get to work on some more new songs. The idea he had tried to talk about with Steel Strings the last time was fleshed out through the week: he made a list of all the songs they had in their repertoire, and how they could fit into an actual concert, with some songs allotted in specific places in the set list, a few songs that could be switched over time, and a bunch of empty slots that needed to be filled with more songs. He didn’t want to show that to the band yet, as he feared it could put too much pressure on them, but he already fantasised about a full concert, and he kept playing it in his head when he went to bed.

Steel Strings and River Mouth were the first to arrive, and he noticed River looked rather tired. She talked about her troubles with her field study, and things didn’t seem to be getting any easier.

“Yeah, and when I get here, I have to carry on with the lab work, so it’s really taking a toll on me,” she said. “But, well, I’ll get through it, I just know it.”

“Sure you will, River,” Dainty said. “You’ve got it in you.”

Honey Drop arrived soon after that, and he still looked rather unenthusiastic. As Dainty helped bring his equipment inside, he stopped Honey outside the house for a moment.

“So, did your parents read the letter?” Dainty said, already feeling his eagerness fade away with Honey’s rather limp expression.

Honey Drop just shrugged. “They said it’s up to them to decide, and that, if they want to, they can make me quit the band. I didn’t read what you wrote, Dainty, but I don’t know if it helped at all.” He made a pause. “Still, thanks, I guess.”

He turned to the cart to get some more things, and Dainty stood there, thinking. If his initiative didn’t help, he hoped at least that it didn’t make things worse.

The band decided to start off playing some songs they hadn’t played in a while, just to keep them fresh. Dainty noticed they sounded weaker than they used to, no matter how much he tried to encourage his bandmates. For a moment, he had the feeling that his bandmates just weren’t enjoying the experience.

Then, they moved to the new songs. Dainty wanted to get them in good shape, so they could learn a new one. Still, as they tried to play the songs, things just wouldn’t work out. Dainty noticed he was making a conscious effort not to act like a jerk like he once did, and the don’t be an asshole mantra was in his head most of the time.

“Guys, I don’t wanna be harsh, but this really isn’t too good,” Dainty said. “You have to try a little harder.”

“I know, Dainty, I…” River Mouth stopped talking to try to stifle a yawn, but she couldn’t prevent it. “I’m trying, but I’m pretty tired. I’ll just… try my best.”

“Also, I’m finding your drums a little sloppy, Honey,” Dainty said. “Have you been practicing?”

“Dainty, how do you think I could want to play when my parents keep discouraging me?” Honey said. “I’m embarrassed to practice at home, because my parents are always complaining about how I should work harder.”

“Yeah, but that’s no excuse for you to play like that, dude,” Hard Fiber said. “You look like you just don’t care.”

“Oh, as if you can criticise me,” Honey scoffed. “You keep forgetting your parts. It sounds like you don’t even practice at all.”

“Well, I try, you know,” Fiber replied. “But it’s not easy for me either.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s not easy when you’re too lazy to do it.”

Fiber’s jaw hung open. “Lazy? Well, listen here, Mr. ‘My Parents Hate Me’, but I also have problems at home, alright? I have to take care of my little brother. He’s…” Hard Fiber made a pause, trying to keep his calm. “He’s a special pony. He needs care. And, most of the time, I’m the only one who can stay with him, and when I’m looking after him, I can’t just turn my back and practice my guitar, as much as I really wish I could. So it’s also hard for me to focus on my music, but you know what? I just deal with it. I don’t keep wallowing in self-pity like some other ponies here do.”

Honey hung his head down, staring at the floor. “I… I didn’t know, Fiber... Sorry…”

“Fiber, listen, this is not about self-pity,” Dainty said, trying to sound gentle. “But, if we knew about your family situation, we wouldn’t keep expecting things that you just can’t do. You know you can trust us.”

“Look, I didn’t want to bring up my family here with you, okay?” Fiber said, still frustrated. “It’s not you guys’ fault that my brother is like that, so I don’t think you even should know about that… I… I can’t go on like this, I’m going home. Sorry.”

Hard Fiber started to unplug his equipment, and the others exchanged startled glances.

“Fiber, no, there’s no need to leave!” Dainty said.

“I’m not in the mood, okay?” Fiber replied. “I’m just going home.”

“Fiber, I’m sorry!” Honey Drop said, a lump in his throat. “I didn’t mean to offend you! Please, don’t go!”

“You’re not… quitting the band, are you?” River Mouth said.

“I just said I’m going home,” Fiber replied. “We’ll… continue some other day, I don’t know, I don’t wanna think about that now. I just need to leave.”

The other four just hung their heads. Honey Drop breathed heavily, afraid to look at the others.

“So, will you be available on Saturday?” Dainty risked.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Fiber took his equipment to the cart outside, and Dainty and Steel followed him, hoping he’d say something a little more reassuring, but he just stood quiet until he was about to leave.

“I’ll see you next time,” he said, and walked off.

“See you, Fiber,” Dainty said.

Steel and him turned around to go inside the house, and found Honey Drop crying. River tried to comfort him.

He looked up at Dainty, sobbing. “I ruined the band, didn’t I?”

Dainty widened his eyes. “No, Honey, calm down, calm down!” he said, rushing towards him. “You haven’t ruined anything. It… it was a sad thing to happen, but the band’s not ruined. I’m sure we can talk to Fiber and he’ll be okay. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be fine.”

“You think so, Dainty?” Honey said.

“Yes, of course I do,” Dainty replied. “Let’s not lose hope. It should be fine.”

“Guys, I… I think that, since Fiber has gone home, I think it would be better if I went home too,” River Mouth said. “I’m really tired and I need to rest. Do you mind?”

Dainty was a little uncertain. He thought they could carry on without Fiber, but it wasn’t good to force her to stay under those conditions. “No, I don’t mind, River. If you’re tired, you’d better get some rest.”

“Okay, then,” she said, making a pause. “So… how’s the next rehearsal gonna be like?”

Dainty scratched his mane. “Yeah, we’ll… have to figure out a way.”

“We gotta talk to Fiber, and see when he’s available,” Steel said. “Then we’ll have to let you know.”

“I’m thinking, would you two mind coming here this Saturday?” Dainty said. “If we get Fiber to join us, we’ll rehearse normally. If he doesn’t, we’ll just… do it without him. Do you think it could be done?”

River Mouth looked uncertain.

“I could do it,” Honey Drop said.

“I wouldn’t like to rehearse without him, but, maybe it’s better than to have to wait until who knows when,” River said. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

“Okay, then you do that, and Steel and I will talk to Fiber to see if he’ll come too,” Dainty said.

And so, River and Honey started to pack their things. Dainty tried to keep calm, to avoid making things worse, and followed the two outside when they left.

Dainty closed the door and hung his head. He turned around, and Steel saw the desolate look in his eyes.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Dainty said, barely raising his face.

“I think he will,” Steel replied. “Interesting how you were trying to reassure Honey Drop, but now you need reassurance.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t… I didn’t want him to get too worried, but…” Dainty sighed. “I’m worried too, Steel. I mean, it’s not just Fiber, but… everypony seems different. I… I fear we won’t be able to hold on much longer.”

Steel saw he was tearing up, and made a gesture for him to come to bed. Dainty lay next to him and rested his head on Steel’s lap. Steel stroked his mane, in silence.

“It’s so annoying,” Dainty said. “I sometimes take pride in how passionate I am for music, but… but passion is not enough. What’s the point in being passionate when the world keeps throwing obstacles in your way?”

Steel sighed, not thinking of a response, though he did want to keep talking to Dainty to try and comfort him. “Have you always been like this? I mean, has music always been so important for you?”

“Well, as far as I can remember, yes,” Dainty said.

He only stopped to think about what he was saying after he said that. Rationally, it was a silly thing to say: Dainty didn’t have much to remember, as he had been dropped in that world a short while ago with no proper past. However, he found himself seeing things in his head, like a tiny dot of light amid what once looked like pitch black, and maybe he could start walking towards it to see what it was.

“I… remember my parents liked music a lot,” he went on. “They weren’t musicians, but they enjoyed music, and they would usually take me to places where there was music going on. I remember… I was a little colt, no idea how old I was, but… it was this big, beautiful hall, with lots of ponies dancing, and there was a stage, and a band was playing… and I just stood by the foot of the stage, watching them play.

“I was… absolutely entranced,” he said, turning his head a little to see Steel’s face. “I couldn’t describe it, but I felt like I was soaring. I think, if I were a pegasus, then the sensation of flying would be more or less like what I felt that night, watching that band play. The sounds, the melodies, the way the instruments looked… I kept trying to figure out the sound of each instrument, and… well, I don’t know how long I stood there, but I could’ve stayed forever. And I just knew that, wherever there was music, I wanted to be there.”

“That’s lovely,” Steel said in a hushed, sweet tone. “And… how did you start playing?”

“Well, I think a few years later, a relative of mine, an uncle, I think, gave us a piano.”

Steel tried to hold back a sudden involuntary chuckle. “What? They just gave you a piano?”

“Well, yeah,” Dainty said, realising how absurd it sounded, but the memory was vivid. He couldn’t understand what was properly happening, but he kept walking towards that tiny bright dot, and now, he was bathed in light. The memory was there, inside him, and as he kept going, he kept seeing more and more things. Could that memory have been there all along?

“I remember my uncle saying that his family had that piano for a long, long time, but nopony really used it anymore,” Dainty went on. “So it was in serious need of repair and tuning. I remember it looked really beaten at the start. And then, my dad managed to fix it. He got somepony to tune it, and, even though the piano never looked pristine, it worked just fine. And then I… I just started to play with it, you know, just… pressing keys, just to see what happened, and I… I slowly started to learn to play melodies. I’d hear a tune, and I’d figure out how to play it. Sometimes it was hard, but I kept insisting until I got it.”

“That’s nice,” Steel said.

“My parents got some teachers to give me some lessons at home,” Dainty went on. “I think they couldn’t afford a full time teacher, because I remember the lessons weren’t frequent… but it was enough for me to learn to read music, learn the scales, chords, rhythms and all… and, one day, I started to make up a song on the piano, just… improvising, I started to play a tune… and it kinda became a song.”

Dainty gave a sudden smile. “Actually, I would often make up songs on the spot, when I was a little colt,” he said. “It must’ve been unbearable to be around me, because I wouldn’t keep my mouth shut. But they were just throwaway tunes, you know? I’d start repeating a phrase and turn it into a tune, but then I’d forget it. But this time… I was actually writing this song, on the piano, and I made lyrics for it. I… I actually still remember how it goes, in fact.”

Steel smiled. “How does it go?”

Dainty made a pause and scoffed, looking away. “It’s a dumb song written by a kid. It’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not,” Steel reprimanded. “It’s your first composition! Come on, I’m curious now.”

“Alright, alright,” Dainty said, rolling his eyes. “It’s goes like:

Hello, moon, hello, sun
Let’s go outside and jump and run
Hello, moon, hello, sun
Let’s go outside and have some fun

Dainty expected Steel to laugh at the silliness, but he just observed him, almost in wonderment. Steel couldn’t help but notice the melody was more twisty than he expected, with the word “go” elongated in an unusual syncopation.

“You wrote that as a little colt, and you’re embarrassed?” Steel said. “You should be proud!”

“Well… maybe?” Dainty replied. “I dunno. I don’t wanna gloat, you know. But… yeah, it was pretty fun when I wrote that tune, and I showed it to my parents, and…”

He suddenly stopped talking and started to sob.

“... and that’s how I got my cutie mark,” he said.

Steel gave an involuntary grin, and gently stroked Dainty’s mane as he sniffed and sobbed.

Dainty realised Steel would never understand why he was so moved, but the affection he received from him was genuine either way, and that’s what mattered.

Dainty had love, and he had a past. With that, the future looked quite a bit less scary.

Steel Strings spent Friday night with Dainty, and in the morning of Saturday, they headed off to Hard Fiber’s house. Steel guided the way across Ponyville until they reached a modest, but charming house, with interesting decorations made with ropes and fabrics of many kinds. Dainty had never seen anything like that, and it was so unique that it stood out in a very beautiful manner.

Steel knocked on the door, and, in a few moments, a green eyed mare showed up. She had a short brown mane, and her coat was a shade of turquoise.

“Yes?”

“Oh, good morning, Mrs. Weave,” Steel said. “Is Hard Fiber home? Could we talk to him?”

“Yes, he is,” she said, as she turned away from the door. “I’ll go call him.”

Dainty and Steel exchanged glances, as the seconds passed. Fiber finally showed up at the door, without stepping out.

“Oh, hey, guys,” he said. His tone was a little bit colder than his usual casualness. “What’s up?”

“Hi, there, Fiber,” Steel said. “So, we talked to the other guys in the band last time we were together, and we decided we’d join again at Dainty’s place today. River and Honey should be coming in the afternoon, and we… well, we wanted to know if you could join us.”

Hard Fiber glanced to the side, as if he needed a second to think. “Yeah, I can. Sure.”

Dainty stifled a sigh of relief.

“Oh, great, then!” Steel said. “It’ll be the usual time, so we can start where… where we left off.”

“Yeah, no problem guys,” Fiber replied. “I’ll be there.”

“Okay! We’ll be waiting for you then, buddy. See you there.”

Dainty caught a glance of a young colt, sitting on a couch in the living room. He had a dark blue coat and a yellow-orange mane, and he kept rocking his body back and forth, staring straight ahead.

“Yeah, see you,” Hard Fiber said. “Thanks for coming.”

Dainty and Steel turned to leave as Fiber closed the door. They walked a few steps before they talked.

“Do you think he’s still into it?” Dainty said.

“I guess,” Steel replied, glancing to the side. “We’ll have to see in the rehearsal itself.”

Dainty just fell silent.

The two of them had lunch at Dainty’s home and hung around, waiting for the others to come. Dainty managed to show his ideas for a potential concert setlist, and Steel gave a few brief pointers, but nothing very substantial. They agreed they needed a couple more songs before they had a proper show in their hooves, but that was only a matter of time, if rehearsals proceeded normally.

It took a while for Honey Drop to arrive, and he brought his cart with his drum kit along the road. Dainty had a vague impression that his expression looked a little brighter than in the past few days.

“Hey, there, Dainty!” he said from afar, as Dainty waited for him by the doorframe. “Am I late?”

“No, not at all,” Dainty replied. “We’re still waiting for River and Fiber.”

“So Hard Fiber is coming?” Honey said, with some extra sparkle in his eyes.

“Yes. Steel and I talked to him this morning, and he said he was coming.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” Honey replied, having parked his cart, and began unloading some of his equipment. “Thanks for doing that.”

“Well, we gotta keep the band together, right?” Dainty replied, as they went inside the house.

“Yeah,” Honey replied. “I… you know, I had a talk with my parents on Friday. We… uh, we talked about the band, because… um, they noticed I was… well, kinda sad, and I… I may have made a bit of a scene because I was scared that I had broken up the band,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, while Steel just listened to him, sitting on the bed. “I was… really scared, you know, and my parents said that… well, if the band really matters that much to me, then I should fight for it, and do my best… And I told them that I love the band just as much as I love the farm, just as much as they love the farm, I mean, I honestly do, you know? I love what my parents have done with that place, and I’m proud of it, and… the band is the same thing. It’s something I helped create with you, guys. And they… they said that I should be proud of it, and… they even agreed to let Pinkie Pie give me lessons again.”

“Oh, really?” Dainty replied, with a sudden grin. “Honey Drop, that’s amazing! It’s wonderful to hear that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Honey said, “but… you know, I was still worried about Fiber. I was scared that… I’d come here and you’d tell me that he had left the band, and… and it would’ve been my fault, you know? I really, really, really swear I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I… but I did anyway, and that was nasty of me, and I felt terrible and I almost couldn’t sleep that night. I felt so sorry for him! It’s awful when someone hurts our feelings, and I hurt his, and… I just really want to apologise to him, because I think he’s a super cool dude and I love the way he plays, and if, like, he has trouble rehearsing and forgets his parts, well, I also struggle with my own drumming, you know. I’ve been struggling with that Thirty Six song for days already, and I’d hate it if anypony called me lazy because of that.”

“It’s Twenty Nine, Honey,” Dainty said with a gentle smile.

“Oh, yes! Right! Yes, Twenty Nine, sorry,” Honey said. “But, well, yeah, it was totally unfair of me to think Fiber was lazy, and I actually just think he’s really awesome and I love playing with him and I… I wish he could hear this, because it’s really how I feel, and I swear I won’t hurt his feelings anymore.”

Dainty grinned as he glanced at the door. “Actually, I think he did hear that, Honey.”

Honey’s eyes went wide. “Oh, shit… Are you serious?”

“Hey, there, Honey dude,” Fiber said as he stepped inside the house.

Honey turned to him, embarrassed “Oh, dude, oh, listen—”

“Buddy, relax,” Fiber replied with a smile. “We’re cool. I heard your apology and we’re totally cool, alright? Don’t get stressed out anymore.”

“Oh, okay, I… Thanks, Fiber,” Honey said. “I’m happy that you’re back.”

Fiber gave him a gentle grin. “Trust me, my friend, I never left you. Now, let’s get to work.”

They resumed assembling their equipment, and River Mouth arrived soon after. They started to chat about the plans for that rehearsal, and the desire to learn some new songs.

The rehearsal flowed without further incidents. Dainty noticed they all were in a better mood, and even River Mouth was more energetic and eager to play. They played several songs, including some they hadn’t rehearsed for quite a while, and started work on a new song. It was a very productive afternoon, and as it reached its end, the five ponies were quite exhausted, but happy.

“This was a good one, guys,” Fiber said. “Nice stuff.”

“So, when’s the next one gonna be?” Honey said, disassembling his kit.

“Well, unfortunately, I’ll only be available on Friday next week,” Fiber said. “Maybe I’ll have the Saturday free too, but I’m not sure yet.”

“Friday is fine for me,” River Mouth said. “I actually think it’s better than Thursday.”

“I’m fine with it too,” Honey said.

Dainty turned to Steel Strings. “Will you be available, my lo— Steel?” Dainty pressed his lips in embarrassment.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied.

“Well, we’re set, then,” Dainty said.

They went on chatting until the three went home, and Dainty closed the door. Steel lay in bed in an enticing pose, and watched as Dainty went towards the piano. “I’m glad things seem to be back in a good shape,” he said, idly pressing a few keys, making some loose block chords.

“Yeah, it was nice to see,” Steel replied, as he waited for Dainty to go to him.

Instead, Dainty kept playing some assorted melodies. “I’ve barely practiced the piano for the last few weeks… I wonder if I’m even able to play at all.”

“You’ve got better things to do now, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Dainty looked at him, and Steel tapped the empty space on the bed with his hoof.

“Well, I could just play if I want to,” Dainty said, tentatively.

Steel frowned and lay flat on his back. “Oh, yeah. And ignore me while I’m here. Great.”

“I can play something for you, love. I wouldn’t ignore you.”

“Come on, Dainty,” Steel said, “you’re gonna spend the little time we have together on the piano and not with me?”

Dainty turned to him, a little worried with the route the conversation was going in. “Steel, I’ve been spending most of my free time with you,” he said, walking towards the bed. “And that’s wonderful, I’m not complaining, but I… well, I still wish to do the things I used to do before we started this.”

Steel looked at him, not too impressed. “Yeah. Because that’s fun, right? I stay here by myself, while you do something else entirely. I wonder if you even like me being around…”

Dainty stretched until his face hovered over Steel’s face, trying to meet his eyes. “Steel, I love you. I love you more than anything. You know that, don’t you? Do you believe me?”

He waited for an answer, but Steel’s eyes wandered to the side. The silence made Dainty feel his stomach turn into a pit.

“Why won’t you answer?” he said, his voice wavering.

Steel suddenly looked into his eyes. “I’m… Something just occurred to me, and… Dainty, I’m suffocating you, aren’t I?”

Dainty looked away for a moment. “Well… maybe sometimes,” he said, weakly.

“Yeah, I figured… I’m… I’m being harmful to you, Dainty,” Steel said, lifting himself up a little. “I can’t go on like this… I think… it’s better if we see each other less from here on, so we can… preserve ourselves, you know.”

“Wait… Wait, no! No, we don’t need to do that!” Dainty replied in shock. “We can still see each other, Steel!”

“Trust me, Dainty, I’m not doing this to hurt you,” Steel said, his voice irresistibly gentle. “This is better for both of us, believe me. And we’re not going to stop seeing each other, that’s not what I mean. We’ll still get together for the rehearsals, and we can be together afterwards. And… if we have just one rehearsal in one week, we can see each other some other day.”

Dainty made a pause. “So… twice a week? Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Steel said. “I think that’s for the better. Trust me, Dainty, I’m doing this because I love you. Don’t be sad, alright?”

Dainty looked away. He wanted to say it was impossible not to be sad with that, but he thought it was pointless to say. “Okay… I trust you, Steel.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Steel replied, getting off the bed, going to put his guitar in the case.

Dainty watched him, confused for a moment. “Wait, you’re not leaving, are you?”

“Yeah, I have to, Dainty.”

“But you just said we could be together after rehearsals!” Dainty objected.

“I know, but, can we start that from next week?” he said, turning to Dainty. “I… I just need to go home for now. I have to… get some things sorted out. It’s… just for today, okay?”

Dainty hung his head. “Alright…”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Steel replied, finishing to pack his guitar. “I’ll… see you on Friday, okay?”

“Okay,” Dainty replied with a limp voice. “Take care, alright?”

“You too, Dainty.”

“I love you.”

Steel turned to him before stepping through the door. “I love you too.”

And then, he left and closed the door. Dainty couldn’t hold back the tears, and crawled onto the bed, which felt far more empty than it usually did.

The whole week, Dainty pretty much couldn’t take Steel Strings out of his mind. Sometimes his job and his music exercises at home offered some distraction, but, as soon as they were over, he remembered his loved one. He shuddered just imagining that this could be the beginning of the end for them, and struggled to try to find some strand of hope that nothing wrong was going to happen, and that this was, indeed, better for both of them. The mental struggle made him exhausted, and when he fell on his bed, he just had a feeling of emptiness inside him, the palpable sensation that there was something missing.

How crazy it was, he thought, that he was once completely at peace with going to bed alone, day after day, but now the very same thing terrified him. It was like a part of him was missing, but it was a part he never had for most of his life. What kind of cruelty is it to make somepony suffer for not having something they were once content with not having?

At the same time, he didn’t lose Steel Strings at all, or at least he tried to believe he didn’t. In reality, he didn’t know. He had no idea how it would be to meet him again, and what Steel would say and do. Maybe he’d say that everything was over between them, maybe he’d say the idea of not seeing each other was stupid and they would put an end to that nonsense, or maybe he’d want to continue exactly as it was. Dainty realised, in times like these, that it was the uncertainty that made him suffer. It was tiresome not knowing what to expect, and expecting every possible thing at the same time.

The only solace he had that Thursday night was that it would be Friday the next day, and they’d have another rehearsal, and he would see Steel Strings again. Unless, of course, Steel decided not to come, for some reason. That could always happen.

Dainty puffed: his head was already crowded with uncertainties, but another one always managed to sneak in.

Dainty couldn’t stay still when he returned from home on Friday. He made himself some tea, put on some music, but he could barely taste the tea or pay attention to the music. Time seemed to crawl, but his heart was racing; two foes at war, and his mind was stuck in the middle.

Finally, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” he almost yelled, his mind just instantly latching onto the idea that it had to be Steel Strings.

When the door opened, the pony behind it wasn’t deep yellow, but maroon.

“Hey, Dainty!” Honey Drop almost yelled. “Guess what happened?”

Dainty tried to hold back his frustration, as he didn’t want Honey to think he did something wrong.

“What is it, Honey?”

“I learned to play Twenty Nine!” he said, almost jumping out of his coat in excitement.

Dainty’s anxiety momentarily gave way to a genuine burst of excitement. “You did?”

“Yeah! I swear, dude, I kept playing it the whole day today,” Honey Drop went on, rushing to bring his equipment inside. “I got it! I finally learned it, and I can’t wait to show it to you!”

“Honey Drop, that’s really wonderful,” Dainty said, not sounding as joyful as he wished he did. “So, did Pinkie Pie teach you, or something?”

“No, that’s the craziest part!” he replied, not knowing whether he should stop to talk or go on bringing his drum kit inside. “I kinda just learnt it by myself! Remember you taught me to sing the rhythm with my mouth and feel it in my body? Well, I just kept doing it, and, suddenly, it all clicked! Well, after that, I did show it to Pinkie, and she gave me some tips to improve, but all I had to do was follow your advice! Isn’t that cool?”

“It is, Honey, it really is,” Dainty said, realising he’d better help Honey with the drums. “Just… slow down with those drums. I don’t want you to stumble and drop anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Honey replied. “I’m just so excited!”

“So am I, buddy, but let’s keep ourselves together.”

After a while, Honey had finished assembling his drums, and he sat behind it, drumsticks in hoof. “So, can I show you now?”

“Yeah, sure, go on.”

So, Honey cleared his throat, as if that was even necessary, did a count in with the drumsticks, and launched into the rhythm of the song. He played a couple of measures, staring at Dainty with wide, expecting eyes.

Dainty just watched him for a moment, paying close attention. “Yeah, that sounds about right!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Honey replied. “This is it!”

Dainty then walked to the piano and started to play the chords. Within a few bars, they were actually playing the song, and Dainty started to sing. Honey even played a few simple fills along the way, trying to reproduce what he remembered from the song, and kept the rhythm steady all the way to the key change. Then, Dainty counted out loud, when the song switched into a fast, straight rhythm, and Honey made the change perfectly.

They went on playing for a couple of repeats, until Dainty made a gesture for them to end the song.

“Woo, Dainty! We did it!” Honey said, lifting his drumsticks in celebration, and then glancing at the door. “Oh, hi there, Steel Strings! Did you just hear that?”

Dainty instantly turned his head to the door. “Steel!” he cried, jumping off the piano bench.

Steel Strings almost tumbled as Dainty latched onto him and started to kiss his lips and his face repeatedly.

Honey Drop, embarrassed, turned his head to the side, but he could still hear them.

“Dainty, Dainty,” Steel said with a smirk, “what happened to our professional stance?”

Dainty backed off a little. “I’m sorry, I just… I just missed you so much.”

“It’s been barely a week, sweetheart,” Steel replied sweetly.

“Yeah, but, I mean, it felt like ages,” Dainty said.

Steel Strings just smiled. “I know. I know, sweetheart. I’m happy to see you again.”

Dainty turned to lead Steel inside, and couldn’t help but giggle at how embarrassed Honey looked.

“So, Steel, did you hear that?” Dainty said, casually. “Honey Drop just learned to play Twenty Nine. I think we’re ready to try it with the band.”

“Yes, I could hear it on my way here,” Steel said. “It sounds great, Honey.”

“Yeah, thanks!” Honey said, turning to face them. “It’s a fun song to play, too!”

They remained talking and getting themselves prepared, and Hard Fiber arrived soon after. River Mouth showed up just a few minutes later, and Danity suggested they listen to Twenty Nine again, so everypony could be up to speed to play the song. It took them quite a bit of rehearsal to get the parts right. Dainty insisted on playing the piano, to improve the texture of the song and give it more color.

“I preferred to play the guitar, but I don’t have one that I could plug into an amp,” Dainty said. “I guess I’d need an extra microphone.”

“Well, I like it when you only sing,” Fiber said, “but, if you really wanna play the piano, then go ahead.”

So, they played a few passes of the song. It was far from perfect, but they all felt they could improve it with more rehearsals and make it sound fine.

Dainty was satisfied with the results of the rehearsal, and, at a certain point, he was already eager to get it over with. He even feared he was pressuring the rest of the band to wrap it up and leave, so he had to make an effort to keep it cool. Still, they reached a point where both Hard Fiber and River Mouth were quite tired, but Honey Drop was still enthusiastic, and wanted to keep on playing.

“You did great, friend,” Dainty said. “But I think we’re really past the time to call it a day.”

“Yeah, I know,” Honey said, a little dejected. “It’s just so fun to do this with you.”

“I know, it’s a lot of fun,” Fiber replied. “Imagine when we get to play live again?”

“I think we should start looking into it already,” River Mouth said. “We’ve got a bunch of songs already. We should have nearly a full show.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dainty said. “We just need to rehearse some songs a little more, and… maybe we should start trying to arrange a concert.”

“I believe we can do it in the theater,” River said. “I think they’d be willing to let us do it.”

“That would be amazing!” Honey Drop said. “A concert in the theater? Oh, we should totally try it!”

“We’ll look into it, Honey,” Dainty said. “I’m sure it can be done.”

They started packing up their instruments, and both River and Fiber went off as soon as they were done, as both needed some rest. Dainty and Steel helped Honey Drop put his equipment away.

“I’m happy to see you happy again, Honey Drop,” Dainty said. “I love your energy.”

“Aw, thanks, Dainty,” Honey replied. “I mean, yeah, I feel excited again, now that my parents kinda understand that this is important to me… and, like, I know I have to improve a lot, you know… I wish I was a much better drummer, you know, ‘cause you guys deserve it…”

“Honey, one thing I can say to you: you are a good musician,” Dainty said. “You are a true musician, because you have the passion, the dedication, the need to play. You have the essence. What you lack is the one thing that we can learn through training, which is the technique. But you can have all the technique in Equestria, but nopony can teach you that essence. You have it in your spirit, and that’s what makes you great.”

Honey Drop was visibly moved. “You guys are too nice,” he said. “I don’t deserve this.”

Steel Strings smiled. “Yeah, but Dainty just can’t help himself.”

Dainty gave him a hard nudge, stifling a chuckle. “You mean stallion!”

“Well, really, I promise I’ll keep practicing and keep getting better,” Honey said, “especially now that Pinkie’s been giving me lessons again.”

“Oh, yes!” Dainty said. “Learn all you can from her.”

And so, they bid their farewells, and Dainty looked at Steel with an eager look.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” he said, gazing at the front door.

The two ponies lay in bed, cuddled together, while the soft breeze and the sounds of the night gently enveloped the house. Steel had decided to spend the night there, and go back home in the morning.

“I missed you so much, my love,” Dainty said. “I missed you.”

“Sweetheart, you’ll have to get used to this,” Steel said. “We spent less than a week without seeing each other.”

“Yeah, I know, but…”

“Just think about how wonderful it is for us to be together again after these days. It… makes the waiting worthwhile, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does, I know,” Dainty said. “I… I mean, I… just like being with you, and…” He sighed, frustrated. “And this is all my fault. I should’ve never made that stupid complaint. Just because I wanted to play my piano while you were here. So petty, and—”

“Dainty, sweetheart,” Steel said, looking deeply at him. “Do you wanna know why I decided to do this?”

He looked at Steel, realising there was probably a reason he wasn’t aware of. “Yeah… Sure.”

Steel looked at the ceiling, breathing deeply. “I was… I was engaged once. Years ago. I met a stallion, and he was… a wonderful pony, good natured, loving, very sweet. We fell in love, and after some months, he proposed to me. And I accepted. I was in the clouds, you know, it was… wonderful.” He gave a sad sigh. “And then, I just started to become… demanding, and bossy, and I kept piling expectations on him… I think there wasn’t a single day when I didn’t make a complaint. I was… suffocating him, and, because he was so sweet, I felt I could do anything, you know. But then… one day, he became fed up with it. He realised that, if I was acting that way during our engagement, how would it be afterwards?

“He… broke up with me, and I’ve never talked to him again since.” Steel bit his lower lip, and gave a trembling sigh. “I… I realised I was doing the same thing to you, Dainty. I thought I had learned my lesson, that I had changed… but I didn’t. And I don’t want this to happen to us. I need to… respect your space, respect your life… I have to do this, you know. It’s up to me. That’s why I asked this. I don’t want to hurt you, Dainty, you’re… You’re the pony I love, and if I don’t treat you well, then… I don’t wanna lose you, Dainty. Understand, I’m not doing this to hurt you, I’m not doing this to make you feel bad, I… I need to do this.”

“That’s a sad story, Steel,” Dainty replied, trying to sound gentle. “I’m sorry you went through that.” He turned to Steel, and held his hooves between his own. “If you feel this will be better for us, I understand. I trust you. I… I can’t demand you to be with me if that doesn’t make you comfortable, so… if this is the best for you, then it’s the best for me too.”

Steel sniffed and smiled. “Dainty Tunes, I love you so much…”

He kissed Steel’s cheek, and cuddled next to him. “I love you too. We’ll be alright. It will be alright.”

They remained like that until sleep fell over them.

Track 7: Sacred Heart

Through the next few days, Dainty Tunes found himself obsessing over the idea of the concert. Of course, that had been the whole idea since the start, but by now, the idea felt more real, more palpable, more plausible. He kept going back to his setlist, pondering about the songs the band had already learned or were in the process of learning, and also started to add songs that could fill in the empty spots, planning his alternatives and considering song orders.

His thoughts kept getting more ambitious and more specific, and he often found himself fantasising about the concert, imagining how the band would occupy the stage of the Ponyville Theatre, the audience packed full of excited ponies before him, blown away by the power of those songs and the sound of the band. He would play the songs off his records and rehearse performances in his house, finding out to use his body and the space around him.

He also sketched out some posters advertising said concert, drawing how the photographs of the band could be. He proposed a few more traditional images, with the band lined side-by-side, imagining what order they should be in: Dainty in the center, Steel and Fiber on either side, River and Honey on the far ends respectively; or maybe somepony else in the center, breaking this idea that the vocalist is the “most important” member, and maybe Honey Drop’s exuberance could make him perfect for the center spot… but that could lead to ponies presuming he was the singer.

And then, there were the more ambitious, artistic ideas for photos: the five faces turned in different directions, like in the cover of Town Troop’s first record, or even the band in a colourful field of flowers, imitating The Discovery of Equestria—but it could be very pretentious to reproduce exactly a iconic image of the Town Troop, as if Dainty’s band were their replacements. He imagined the five ponies strewn out across a large public space, each one in a very different pose, just casually conquering the place. Should they pose with their instruments? That could be cool, and give more emphasis to the music, and less to the ponies themselves.

He didn’t bring up these ideas in the next rehearsal, as he thought they should focus on the songs for now, but he did follow his sketches to suggest new songs to learn.

“Dainty, why don’t we try Factory?” Honey Drop said, when Dainty mentioned going to a new song.

“Factory? That’s actually an interesting choice, Honey!” Dainty said, going to his record. “Yeah, we can give that a listen and see what you guys think. I also would really like to learn Wind on the Coast, but we can try that one later.”

“Isn’t that song really slow?” Hard Fiber said.

“Yeah, it is,” Dainty said, “but I think we need some gentler songs for contrast, you know? It’s better to have some dynamics in our concert, like, some parts slow and some parts fast, some parts quiet and some parts loud.”

“That’s true,” Steel Strings said. “We need some contrast.”

“I think we should start working on a setlist, you know?” River Mouth said. “Or, at least, look at the songs we already know.”

“Oh, I’ve been doing that!” Dainty said. “If you want, I can show you what I’ve got later. I just didn’t think of doing that yet, because we still need to learn more songs.”

“Yeah, let’s do it!” Honey Drop said. “I can’t wait to see what our show would look like!”

“Okay, then. Let’s work on Factory first, and then we’ll look at the setlist.”

Dainty put the song on, and the band proceeded to work on it for a while, figuring out the chords, the transitions and the different parts. Dainty suggested some parts could be played on the piano, without interfering in his singing, and so they tried that.

After a few passes of the song, Dainty grabbed a few sheets of paper from his desk, where sketches of setlists had been scribbled, together with several other phrases and loose ideas. He took the papers to the bed, and the band gathered around to look.

“So, this is the one I’ve been considering the most,” Dainty said. “It’s got all the songs we know so far, and some empty spaces for songs we still need to include.”

The list went as follows:

Is It (!)

Almost by Mistake (!)

When the Sun Shines Through the Window of Your Room

(Acrylic on Canvas?)

(I Was a Teenage Werewolf?)

Seven Cities

(It's Too Early / I Know?)

(Chalk?)

(Pony in the Lions' Den?)

For a While Now

(Wind on the Coast?)

(The Vampire Theater? / The World's Been Acting So Complicated?)

Twenty Nine (!!!)

(Before Six / Let's Make a Movie?)

(Theorem? / Waiting for Me?)

Lost Time (!!)

“There are some songs that I wrote down that I intended to suggest we learn, but we could replace them with other ones, if you prefer,” Dainty said.

“We have to add Factory to that!” Honey Drop said.

“Yes, absolutely!” Dainty said. “I’m thinking, maybe that could even be a show opener, but we could discuss that.”

“That’s quite a bunch of songs,” Hard Fiber said. “You think we could learn all that?”

Dainty finished scribbling their new song to the top of the list, with a question mark. “I believe we can, Fiber. But, well, we’ll have to see.”

Steel Strings had casually pulled out another sheet of paper, where Dainty had sketched out some poster ideas. He idly looked at them, before Fiber noticed them.

“What are those, Dainty?”

Dainty felt a little embarrassed, all of a sudden. “Oh, those are… I was just imagining… how we could show up on photos, you know, for advertising and all…”

“Shouldn’t we be discussing that stuff among the band?” Honey said. “You’re not gonna decide all that yourself, are you, Dainty?”

“No, no, of course not, Honey,” he quickly said. “No, those are just… random ideas that I started doing someday. Of course we have to talk about all that. It’s not like I’m making plans behind your back. I just… well, I can’t stop thinking about our concert. I’m excited, you know.”

“We still have quite a lot of work to do, apparently,” Fiber said.

“Yeah,” River Mouth said. “Isn’t that… Wouldn’t that be a pretty long concert, though?”

“I estimated about an hour and a half,” Dainty said. “I think that’s reasonable, is it?”

“I think that’s fair,” Steel Strings said.

“So, well, yeah, everything here can be discussed, and you’re free to bring your own suggestions anytime,” Dainty said. “Now, how about we go back to the songs? Could we maybe try Wind on the Coast now?”

The rest of the band agreed, and they set out to work.

As the days passed, Dainty Tunes felt more and more excited and anxious about his ideas for the concert. He mulled over the setlist, looking through the songs that the band hadn’t learned yet, and kept wishing they had more rehearsals to work on those songs. They should absolutely start working on I Was a Teenage Werewolf next… or maybe The Vampire Theater? Yeah, that one had more potential. Oh! But Chalk was so pretty! They should absolutely go for that one first. But why not all three at the same time? Why not all of them at the same time?

He made sketches of how the band should be arranged on stage, trying to balance out the presence of each member. There were five of them, and the drums should be central, and there were three guitars, so there would be an imbalance. Oh! And he absolutely wanted to use the piano in some songs, so it would have to be there too. How to arrange that?

His free time was spent mostly in wild spirals of obsessive thoughts about the band, alternated with his aching need to see Steel Strings again. At one point, he realised he wasn’t sleeping well at all, and he might be driving himself to an actually unhealthy condition. He thought that maybe taking some walks outside could help distract his mind, but, as he wandered outside, trying to pay attention to the scenery and the sounds around himself, he just felt consumed by an urge to rush back home and look at the setlist again and make more plans.

On one Thursday rehearsal, Dainty was downright electric as he waited for his bandmates. Steel Strings and River Mouth were the first ones to arrive, and he had already started talking about new songs to start working with. When Honey Drop arrived, he rushed to help him bring the drum kit inside. Dainty asked him about his practicing, his lessons with Pinkie, what songs he wanted to learn, if he thought they could learn more songs at the same time. Honey Drop just kept replying until he was cut off by a yelp and a thud coming from inside.

“Sweet Luna! Are you alright?” he heard Steel say.

Honey rushed inside and found Dainty lying flat on the floor, holding the snare drum above his head.

“Holy crap!” he said, rushing to help him up, while River Mouth took the drum from his hooves. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Dainty said, with a face that suggested he was not fine. “I’m sorry, Honey, I tripped and almost let your snare hit the floor. How does it look, River?”

“It looks fine,” she said, giving it a superficial glance. “I don’t think it hit the floor. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“It was nothing,” he insisted. “This is not the first time I’ve taken a trip, you know?”

“Dainty, did you fall on your face?” Honey said, noticing a bruise near his eyes.

He gave a sheepish chuckle. “Silly, isn’t it? Guys, stop worrying about me, we have to get prepared.”

“Sweetheart,” Steel said, approaching him, putting a hoof over his shoulder, “relax. You’re hurt. You bruised your face. Doesn’t it hurt?”

Dainty couldn’t stand those sweet eyes staring at him. They felt almost accusatory in their worry. “A little,” he said, embarrassed. “Guys, I’ll live. This is nothing.”

“Dainty, my love, stop being so hard on yourself,” Steel said, almost scolding him. “Come with me, rest a little. The band can wait.”

“No!” he replied. in shock. “The band can’t wait, just because I fell on the floor like a stupid moron!”

“Dude, stop that!” Honey Drop shouted.

Dainty and Steel both stopped on their tracks.

“We care about you! We’re your friends!” Honey continued. “Listen to your boyfriend, dude. There’s no point in rushing. We have to wait for Fiber, anyway.”

Dainty turned to him, and just stopped to let those words sink in. “Your friends.” “Your boyfriend.” That’s who those ponies were, weren’t they? They were more than just his bandmates. It was weird how he kept forgetting that.

“I…”

He finally paid attention to his bruise, and noticed how much pain he actually felt. He winced and pressed his eyelids.

“Ow. Yeah, you’re right… You guys are right,” he said. “I’m going overboard, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.”

The word came from all three, in a perfect, accidental unison. Dainty looked around himself, a little disappointed.

Honey Drop, who was heading outside, stopped and shrugged. “Well, it’s true!”

“Yes, it is,” Dainty said, as Steel brought him to the bed and went to the kitchen. “I’m… I dunno, I’m just so excited for us, that I… well, I don’t know how to hold it back, you know. I never felt like this.”

“Just remember that we still have quite a lot of work ahead of us,” River Mouth said. “Try to keep focused on what we can do for the time being. Sometimes, when I have something big ahead of me, I try to break it down into small bits, and focus only on what I can do at that time,” she said. “And, if there’s nothing I can do at that time, then I just focus on something else.”

“I know, that makes sense,” Dainty said, as Steel Strings brought a few blocks of ice wrapped in a cloth to put on his bruise. “I… ouch, careful, my love. Ow. Yeah. Thank you. Yes, that makes sense, River,” he resumed, “but it’s hard for me to control myself. I just… I just want stuff to happen.”

“It will happen, pal, don’t worry,” she said, noticing Hard Fiber was just arriving.

“Hey, there!” he said. “Hope I’m not too late.”

The others greeted him, and assured him he wasn’t late.

“What happened there, Dainty?” he said, putting down his amplifier.

“I fell on my face and got a little bruise,” Dainty replied.

“Oh, yikes,” Fiber replied with a wince. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. I’ll be fine, though.”

Steel Strings kept nursing him for a while, while the others assembled their equipment and started to warm up, until he thought it was good.

“I think that’s enough, sweetheart,” he said, kissing his cheek. “Take it easy, okay?”

Dainty gave him a facetious glare. “What happened to our professional stance, Steel Strings?”

Steel gave a cheeky smile. “Well, if that’s what you want, Mr. Professional, then get up and get to work already.”

Dainty chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, I guess I asked for that.”

The band was in high gear on that rehearsal, and they managed to work on two new songs at the same time. Dainty Tunes’s bruise had swollen a bit, despite Steel’s nursing, and it bothered a little bit when he sang, but he still did what he could. As they often did, they also played some older songs, just to keep in check that they could still handle them well.

Dainty felt that his impatience and anxiety was quenched as long as they were playing the songs. He pondered deeply on what River Mouth had said about focusing on what could be done at the time, but he still felt like he’d go back to his previous state once he was done rehearsing.

By the end, they were all quite satisfied, and they played until a little later than they usually did. River Mouth was actually starting to yawn when they decided to call it a day.

“How are you, Dainty?” Fiber said. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” he said, with a reassuring tone. “The swelling’s kinda bothering me, but I feel fine.”

“Good to know, Dainty,” River said. “I was kinda worried that you were making too much effort after what happened.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’m doing fine,” he replied, despite noticing he did feel a bit of a headache. “So, how’s your schedule? Are you free this Saturday?”

Steel, Fiber and River all signalled they were.

“You know, guys,” Honey Drop said, “I, uh… I kinda miss that day when we just hung out together, like, just to talk and have fun… I was wondering if we could do that again?”

Dainty casually glanced at the others. “Well, sure we can. It could be a nice idea, I think!”

“Yeah, I’m up for it!” Hard Fiber said. “Could we do it this Saturday?”

“I was thinking of that, yeah,” Honey said. “I mean, I know Dainty is eager to work on the songs, so we could leave it for some other day.”

“I’m fine with doing it this Saturday,” Dainty replied. “It might be good to get my head away from the music for a little bit.”

And so, they arranged to hold another picnic, and everypony would bring something to share with the others. River, Honey and Fiber eventually went home, and Dainty closed the door.

“So, are you feeling alright, sweetheart?” Steel said. “You look a little bit slow tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to take it easy,” he replied. “I… I do have a bit of a headache, but it’s no big thing.”

“A headache? Aw, come on here, my angel,” Steel said, leading him to the bed. “Lay here and rest. Do you want some tea?”

“Hm, yes, I do!” Dainty replied, already going off to the kitchen.

“Hey, where are you going?” Steel scolded. “You stay right here, resting, and let me do the work.”

“But I’m fine, love!” Dainty said with an awkward smile. “I’m really okay.”

“Dainty, Dainty, listen here,” Steel said, gently pushing him to the bed. “You have the perfect excuse to get pampered by somepony else, and you don’t want to take it?”

He laughed clumsily. “I’m just… I’m not used to this, really.”

“Then lay down there and let me show you how it is,” Steel Strings said, “because, when I’m the one who needs pampering, you’ll know how to do it. Okay?”

Dainty gave him a cheeky glare, and lay back in bed. “I should’ve known you had second intentions.”

“Always, baby, always,” Steel giggled, and went off to the kitchen. “Do you take your tea with sugar?”

He pondered, remembering how he always had his tea without sugar. “Hmm… yes, two cubes, love,” Dainty said.

Steel Strings and Dainty Tunes left the house together that morning. Steel went back to his workshop, and Dainty headed to the building that his team was tasked with repairing. Iron Bolt and Jack Hammer both noticed the swelling in Dainty’s face. He smiled awkwardly and pondered that it could sound more dignified to say he got punched in a brawl, instead of admitting he fell flat on his face in his own home, but he didn’t have the guts to make up such a lie.

More than anything, he was feeling fine that morning. There was no headache, and the swelling was more of a nuisance and it didn’t really hurt. His two friends invited him to go to the pub that night, and he agreed. It had been a while since he didn’t go there, since the bullying from the other two ponies had left a very sour taste. Maybe this time would be different.

In his break, after lunch, he went around to get some supplies for the picnic. Before going back to work, he stopped at the Sugarcube Corner, and couldn’t help but smile with glee as he saw Pinkie Pie behind the counter, serving a few customers. Dainty stood behind the other ponies, waiting for his turn, and in a few moments, Pinkie warmly greeted him.

“Hello, Dainty Tunes!” she said with her usual grin. “How is the band coming along?”

“Hi, Pinkie!” he replied, with a small, irresistible burst of joy. “We’re doing great. In fact, we’re having a picnic tomorrow, and I came to buy some sweets for us.”

“Oooh, a picnic? Now that sounds like a super duper fun time!” she replied. “So what’s your choice?”

“I’m thinking of a couple of cupcakes… Maybe ten of them? I think that’s reasonable.”

“Ten cupcakes to go! What flavours?”

He pondered for a second, and then narrowed his eyes a little. “Surprise me, Pinkie.”

Her eyes went wide as she quickly, but carefully chose among the different kinds of cupcakes on display, and his mind raced around his usual thoughts. He considered asking something to her, and glanced behind his back to see if there were other customers waiting, but luckily there was no one.

“Pinkie, do you…”

She gave him a quick glance over the counter. “Yes?”

“Um, do you ever get the feeling that… you’re so enthusiastic and so excited about something, that you just can’t stop thinking about it, to the point where you… get impatient and you can’t focus on things properly?”

“Oh, all the time!” Pinkie said, as she went on selecting the cupcakes and putting them neatly in a tray. “I often get super excited when there’s something great about to happen, and it makes me all jittery inside! And I can’t wait for the time for that thing to happen, and I keep asking myself, is it time already? No… Is it time already No… Is it time already? No… Is it time already? No…” She kept alternating an expression of bright expectation and limp disappointment as she repeated those two phrases. “And that keeps going for quite a while!”

“Yeah, I’m kinda feeling like that myself,” he said, as she finished packing the cupcakes. “So what do you do when you feel like that?”

She put a hoof on her chin. “Hm… It depends, really! But I’ll often just look for something to do that’s very different from that great thing that’s about to happen, so I can get distracted. Oh! And visiting my friends is also great! It helps if I hear lots of somepony else’s things so that I stop thinking about my own things. I’m a very good listener, you know!”

“Yes, you most certainly are, Pinkie,” Dainty replied. “Yeah… visiting friends… It’s weird, because I just… never do that. They just go to my house for rehearsals, but we rarely ever just… hang out, you know. How silly of me! I should definitely see them more often.”

“I bet they’ll love it, Dainty Tunes!” she said. “So, will that be all?”

He eagerly looked at the other delicacies around the store, and tapped his chin. His friends deserved more.

Dainty waited in his house for Steel Strings to arrive. They band had arranged to gather at Saddle Lake, so, shortly after Steel arrived in Dainty’s house, they headed there. The two found Honey Drop, sitting idly by the margin of the lake, with a basket by his side. Dainty called his name, and he turned around and waved to his friends.

The three spread a cloth on the grass, but decided to wait for the others to show up before putting the food around. River Mouth arrived a couple of minutes later, and they quickly started chatting about life in general. Dainty realised that, perhaps unconsciously, he was avoiding talking about anything related to the band. After all, that wasn’t a “professional” meeting, so they could just take their time to enjoy each other. Still, if the topic of music did show up, it wouldn’t be an intrusion; there was just no proper “work” to be done there.

The four sat and chatted for a long time, and they started wondering where Hard Fiber could be. River Mouth tried to play it cool, remembering how he was usually the last to arrive for rehearsals, so he was certainly on his way.

Eventually, River and Honey agreed to get something to eat, even though the group wasn’t complete yet. Dainty was feeling a bit worried, and though he didn’t know for how long they had been there, it felt like a considerable amount of time had passed. Steel could see the unease in Dainty’s eyes, as he often would look around, in the hopes that Fiber was arriving.

It reached the point where all four were starting to feel worried, and then, River spotted him in the distance, walking limply with a basket hanging from his mouth. She made a gesture to him, and he slowly approached him. The four greeted him as he lay the basket on the grass.

“Hi, guys,” he said, sitting down. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Is everything alright?” River Mouth said, noticing his tone was a little unenthusiastic.

“Oh, yes, sure, I had… well, some stuff to do at home before I could leave,” he replied, unable to look at them directly.

“Ah, I know how that is,” Steel said with a bit of a smile. “Whenever I wanted to go out and do something when I was younger, my mom would use that to force me to do my chores, like, ‘do you want to go out? Only after you clean your room!’ and such.”

River Mouth giggled. “Yeah, my parents were the same. I wonder, is there a manual that teaches parents how to do that stuff?”

“If there is, it must be secret,” Steel said. “I never saw it!”

“I guess you must have a foal before they show it to you,” River replied. “Like, now you can get into our secret circle of parents and know all the things we’ve been hiding from you.”

Steel and Dainty chuckled. Honey Drop, however, noticed that Fiber was looking even more disheartened than when he arrived.

“Fiber, is there a problem?” he said.

“Oh, it’s… it’s nothing, really, I… I don’t wanna drag you down with this stuff,” Fiber said. “It’s… it’s fine.”

“You know you can talk about it, if you want,” River Mouth said. “We’re your friends.”

Fiber looked at their faces, and noticed they all looked quite worried, and maybe his attempts at avoiding the subject weren’t helping.

“Well, it was… my little brother,” he said. “He… he has these fits sometimes, you know, and he becomes… hard to calm down. I have no idea why, he just… does that, sometimes, and I… I had to stay and try to calm him down. I don’t like leaving him like that, you know, and my… my father says sometimes that I’m trying to run away from my responsibility, but I’m not, really! I just… I just need to have my own life, you know.” He wiped his face and sighed. “Why can’t he be normal?” he cried, pressing his eyes. “I’m sorry, I know this is a horrible thing to say, like, to expect somepony to be ‘normal’, but… It hurts to see him when he does that. I love my little brother, I swear I love him. I just… I hate to see him like that. If he… could just be like other ponies, it would be better for all of us… but… well, there isn’t much I can do about that, is there?”

Honey Drop put a hoof on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about that, buddy. It must not be easy for you.”

“Yeah, we’re with you, Fiber,” River Mouth said. “I’m sorry for you and your brother.”

“Thanks. I’m not doing this to make you pity me, you know, but…” He sighed again. “Sometimes it’s hard not having many ponies to talk about this, you know? If I said any of this to my family, they’d probably be hurt… even though I’m not trying to hurt them.”

“You can talk to us any time you want, Hard Fiber,” Steel said. “It helps to talk about stuff.”

“It’s true. I feel a little better already, in fact,” Fiber replied, with a hint of a smile. “Thanks, guys. You’re great… Now, I’m kinda hungry, you know?”

The others smiled and started getting the food from their baskets.

The rest of the afternoon was pleasant and enjoyable for the five of them, and they remained there until it started to get dark. Honey Drop actually got a little worried when he realised how late it was, as his parents could complain, so he hastily grabbed his things, said farewell to his friends and rushed home. River Mouth and Hard Fiber took that as their cue to go home as well, as they had their own things to do. And so, Dainty and Steel took their own things and made it back to Dainty’s house.

The rehearsal for that week had been scheduled for Thursday, and Dainty would have to find something to occupy his other evenings, as usual. However, they had talked about the possibility of seeing each other more often through the week. Dainty said the others were free to visit him any time they wished. Hard Fiber sometimes had impediments due to taking care of his little brother, but he was sometimes available for a chat. River Mouth had her field research, so she was a little short on free time, but she said she could find a way. Honey Drop said the others also were invited to go visit his house and get to know the farm, and Dainty was particularly interested.

On Tuesday, after his shift, he thought of giving Honey Drop a visit. He got to know parents for the first time, after only ever hearing about them. Mr. and Mrs. Honey had the peculiar sternness and maturity of people who worked hard all their lives, but they were still very welcoming and friendly towards Dainty, and he felt they were happy to get to know the musician Honey Drop kept talking about so much. Dainty chatted with them for quite some time, getting to know a little about their story, and also sharing a bit of his own. He got to know the farm, learnt a little about their beekeeping methods, and then went to a back room where Honey Drop had his drum kit assembled, so they could chat about music and assorted things. It was a very pleasant visit, and he felt refreshed when he went home that night.

So, Thursday evening eventually came, and the band gathered in his home to carry on working. As they were preparing their equipment, Dainty proposed something new this time: they’d spend some time practising the new songs, and then they’d play a whole setlist, as if it were a real concert.

“But do we even have a setlist?” Hard Fiber said.

“Well, I have my sketches,” Dainty said. “But I think that, if we try to play all songs we know in order, we’ll get a feel for how an actual concert would sound. And we could also discuss the song order when we’re done. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a good idea, Dainty,” River Mouth said. “We’ve been playing for so long already, it would be nice to have a little taste of how our live show would be.”

“Okay, then. Let’s get the new songs done, and then I’ll get my sketches,” Dainty said.

They worked for a while on the new songs they had been practicing, until they were satisfied with them. And so, Dainty grabbed his most complete setlist sketch and put it on the floor, next to his mic stand, to let the band know what was the song order.

And so, they blasted off with Is It, and, after talking a little bit about some details of the execution that could be improved, they moved on to Almost by Mistake, and they played song after song, slowly getting the sense that they were actually playing a concert to a non-existent audience. It felt exciting to do that, and, even though they still made small mistakes in the performances, they enjoyed the atmosphere, and they felt like a real band.

By the end, they discussed some things they felt should be improved, and made suggestions about the song order. Sometimes there were considerable disagreements—Honey Drop insisted there shouldn’t be two slow songs in a row, whereas Steel Strings thought it would be nice to have a softer moment in the show, to let everypony catch their breath—and they put those topics to a vote. It turned out that River Mouth, Steel Strings and Dainty Tunes would often agree on their choices, leaving the other two at a disadvantage, and Honey Drop started to find that a little unfair, because they weren’t being heard.

“Well, I’m trying to keep this fair for everypony,” Dainty said. “You can try to convince us of your point of view whenever you feel the need to, Honey Drop.”

“I’m trying! But it feels like you’re just ignoring me when I say something,” Honey replied.

“I dunno, Honey, I don’t think I ever ignored you,” Dainty said. “You suggested we should play Factory, and we did add it to the setlist, remember? It’s just that we don’t always agree with everything.”

“Yeah, but Fiber and I are pretty much always at a disadvantage,” Honey said. “I mean, it’s guaranteed that you and Steel are always going to vote the same, anyway, so…”

“What? No, that’s not true, Honey!” Dainty objected, without raising his voice. “That’s not guaranteed at all. I mean, we often disagree when we talk to each other, so don’t say we’re always going to side against you. That’s not fair.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Honey said. “I don’t wanna start a fight, or anything. I just wanna… you know, participate a little more, that’s all.”

“Okay, so, what do you think we should reconsider?” Dainty said.

“Well, I just don’t think we should have The Vampire Theater and Wind on the Coast back to back. They’re too slow and too sad! I think they’re gonna drag everypony down.”

“I still think it’s better if we do,” Steel Strings said. “If the slow songs are too loosely spread, they kill the momentum.”

“Yeah, but…” Honey Drop couldn’t think of what to say, so he just sighed.

“Well, what if we, say, replace The Vampire Theater with Chalk, and put it somewhere else in the setlist?” Dainty said. “We can also have The World’s Been Acting So Complicated to close off that part of the setlist. It’s a little faster, but it’s a pretty gentle song. So, then, we put The Vampire Theater somewhere else, together with other songs that aren’t too sad. What do you think?”

“That could work, actually,” Steel Strings said.

“Maybe write it down, Dainty, and we’ll try that next time,” River Mouth said.

“Is that okay for you, Honey Drop?” Dainty said.

He slowly nodded. “I think so, yeah. Let’s try it.”

And so, they went on making arrangements and decisions, and Dainty put the sketch away. They still had some time remaining, so they chose to play the songs that they felt needed improvement.

That Saturday, they joined together to work on some more new songs. They realised there were very few songs on the setlist that they hadn’t learned yet, and figured they’d have their full show on hoof in just a few weeks.

“Don’t you guys think it’s about time to try to get a show scheduled?” River Mouth said. “I mean, it’s not like we would get a date for the next couple of weeks anyway, so we’ll have time to rehearse everything we need.”

“I think you’re right, River,” Hard Fiber said. “If we don’t make a move, we’ll never go anywhere. We’ll just keep rehearsing forever.”

Dainty couldn’t help but feel that apprehension he had felt when they scheduled their first gig, but he tried not to let the fear get the best of him. “Yeah, let’s do it. We could go to Ponyville Theater this week and talk to them. We held our audition there, so they must still remember us.”

“I can go with you if you want, Dainty,” Steel said.

“That would be wonderful, my lo— Steel,” Dainty replied. “Maybe on Monday? I can go there during my lunch break, I believe.”

“I think Tuesday’s better for me,” Steel said.

“I could go too, if you wouldn’t mind,” Hard Fiber said.

“No, of course not!” Dainty replied. “Yeah, let’s do that, then! Tuesday it is.”

They finished their arrangements, and moved on to the rehearsal. They started work on a new song, and once again played their setlist, incorporating the changes suggested on the previous rehearsal. Dainty felt satisfied that this was probably going to become a method of work, and could really tighten up their sound and their act. As usual, they discussed things they needed to improve, suggested changes to the setlist, and, after a few hours of work, they were starting to get physically tired. It was another exhausting, but productive day, and Dainty felt his bandmates left that day feeling satisfied.

On Tuesday, as they had agreed, Dainty Tunes, Steel Strings and Hard Fiber met in front of the theatre to try to arrange their concert. Dainty felt very nervous, as there was something very uncomfortable in the idea of trying to convince somepony else that his band was worthy of playing there. They had hundreds of possible reasons to reject the Ponyville Rag, so much that he could probably choose to hear them in alphabetical order, or from least to most humiliating.

However, the talk with the manager was very tranquil and reasonable. Indeed, the manager remembered them from their audition, and they talked about the equipment and stage set-up, and the available dates. Dainty estimated that they’d need at least one month of preparation, to finish their rehearsals and advertise the show around the town. The detail that shocked the manager the most was that they didn’t want to charge for the concert.

“So... you’re doing this whole thing for free?” he said, not concealing his bewilderment.

“Yeah it’s... it’s part of the arrangement, yes,” Dainty said. “We were only allowed to play these songs if we didn't make a profit.”

“Well, fair enough,” the manager said, “but we still need to maintain the costs of running the concert. I couldn’t hold it free of charge.”

“In that case, you can charge a reasonable fee, and the theater keeps all the money,” Steel Strings said. “Does that sound fair to you, Dainty?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he replied. “Of course. I mean, we don’t want to cause any losses to the theater. The important thing is that we don’t make a profit.”

And so, they left the theater with a few potential dates, all on Saturdays. They’d talk to the other band members on their next rehearsal, and come back with a final choice.

“Gee, thank you, guys,” Dainty said as they left the building. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this on my own.”

“It was a pleasure, lovely,” Steel Strings said.

“Yeah, no problem there, dude,” Hard Fiber said. “Hey, by the way, if you want to, you could come up to my house this evening, if you wanna chat. What do you think?”

“I’ll be busy tonight, unfortunately,” Steel said. “I’ve got a job I have to finish for tomorrow.”

“Well, I’m available,” Dainty said. ”It’ll be a pleasure to go, Fiber! I’ll be there after the shift… and, in fact, I really gotta hurry back to work.”

“Of course, sweetheart, don’t be late,” Steel said, kissing him gently on the cheek.

“Talk to you in the evening, Dainty!” Fiber said, before Dainty went off to work.

Dainty Tunes knocked on the door of Hard Fiber’s house, and, after a few seconds, he opened the door.

“Hey, there!” he said. “Come in, Dainty.”

“Thanks, Fiber! How’s it going?”

“Pretty good, buddy,” Fiber said, closing the door after Dainty came in.

Dainty noticed a faint, but distinct scent in that house. He couldn’t put his hoof on what it was, but it felt oddly pleasant. On two chairs next to a wall, two ponies sat, busily working. Dainty had seen them before and knew they were Hard Fiber’s mother and younger brother. She was working on a piece of knitting, but would often glance at Fiber’s brother, who hastily manipulated pieces of string in his hooves. He rocked his body back and forth, and had a vacant facial expression, which didn’t match the hasty, almost chaotic movements of his hooves, which still looked too deliberate and purposeful to be random.

“So, this is my mom, Twill Weave,” Fiber said, pointing to her. “Mom, this is Dainty Tunes, the singer of my band.”

“Oh, yes, I have met him before,” she said. “Good evening, Mr. Tunes.”

“Good evening to you too, Mrs. Weave,” he said.

“And this is my little brother, Macramé,” Fiber went on. “I’m afraid he won’t say hello to you, but he seems to like you.”

Dainty awkwardly smiled. “Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said.

“Do you see all these knots in here?” Fiber said, pointing at a wealth of intricate, beautiful decorative knots placed around the furniture of the living room. “They were all made by him. He just has a natural talent for knots. Isn’t that right, buddy?”

Macramé didn’t reply, but Dainty felt like Fiber could pick up small cues that indicated how he felt. The young pony sometimes gave little grunts and moans, and it seemed that was all Dainty would hear from him.

“Yeah, he’s pretty comfortable with you here, Dainty,” Fiber said, leading him to his bedroom. “Come this way, I wanted to show you something.”

Fiber had his guitar plugged into his amp, which suggested he had been practicing. An acoustic guitar was resting against the opposite wall. Fiber sat down on the bed and took his guitar, and invited Dainty to sit on a chair in a corner of the room.

“I’ve mentioned before that I often don’t have time to practice,” Fiber said, “but I take any opportunity I can find. And now that we’re scheduling our concert, I’m gonna try harder to get some stuff done.”

“Yeah, well, you have to try to find your own pace, Fiber,” Dainty said. “It has to be comfortable for everypony.”

“I guess, yeah,” Fiber said. “So, I’ve been playing around with the guitar stuff from Lost Time, you know, and I… Well, the chords are C, A minor, B minor and E minor, right? That’s what Steel plays on the guitar.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Dainty said.

“So, yeah, I sometimes try to find out things to play in the song, like those arpeggios and bends and whatever, and listen to this.” He started to play some guitar lines, which Dainty immediately recognised as Lost Time, even though Fiber was just improvising his lines. “That’s the stuff that I usually do, you know, But now, look at this.”

He played almost the same thing as before, but changed the notes of one of the chords. Dainty nodded, immediately understanding what he was doing.

“Like, this is different from what we do on the song, but it seems to work,” Fiber said. “I think that, instead of playing a D, I’m playing an E flat, I think. Is that right? I don’t know, I don’t really know what I’m doing, but it sounds good to me.”

“Yeah, it does,” Dainty said. “You’re playing B major instead of B minor, so that’s a D sharp, not an E flat. You’re playing a major five chord on a minor progression, and that’s super common. That’s why it sounds good to you.”

“Oh, so that’s what’s going on?” Fiber said. “That’s interesting. I didn’t know you could play that chord on a minor key. I thought the five chord had to be minor.”

“It can be either minor or major, really,” Dainty said. “Well, in reality, any chord can be whatever you want, you know. You don’t have to only play the chords that belong to the key. What happens is that some chords are more common than others, so some of them will make more sense when we hear them. And the major five chord is pretty common. I mean, that D sharp you’re playing goes up to an E. That’s what we call the leading tone. That’s why we sometimes replace the minor five with a major five.”

“Hm, interesting,” Fiber said. “That’s pretty cool. But, like, would this work if I played like this in the song? I mean, I’m only playing this on my own, so I have no idea what it would sound like with the band.”

Dainty pondered his choice of words carefully. “Well, it would probably sound pretty strange, because you’d be playing one chord and Steel would be playing another. And the melody I sing follows what Steel plays, so there would be a lot of clashing, like we’re doing two different things at the same time. I think, since the song uses B minor, that’s what we should play. But yeah, we could replace it with a B major if we wanted to, and it would be fine.”

“I get it. Yeah, that’s very interesting. It’s funny how we sometimes bump into some really unexpected things like these.”

“Yeah, I sometimes do that,” Dainty replied. “I’ll just let my hooves play stuff on the piano, and when something sounds cool, I try to use it somehow. It’s fun just letting things happen by chance.”

“I think I should do that more often,” Hard Fiber said. “Well, even though, for learning the band’s songs, I think it’s better to stick to the script, right?”

“Well, you can always experiment with new things,” Dainty said. “But yeah, the things you do have to kinda match what the rest of the band is playing. But there’s still things to do.”

“I guess. I like playing this song, you know,” Fiber said. “There’s always a little thing I find out, and I feel like trying it when we play together.”

“You wanna try playing it now?” Dainty said, pointing at the acoustic guitar. “Is it okay to play here? We could try to keep it quiet.”

“Sure, sure, go on,” Fiber said. “Let’s try it!”

Dainty grabbed the guitar and tested the tuning, and asked Fiber to give him a low E. They spent some time getting the tuning right, and then Dainty asked Fiber to start the song. Dainty joined in, and they quickly got into the regular groove of the song. Dainty sang, noticing how Fiber looked focused on his guitar, and figured he was trying to do the things he said he had been practicing.

Then, Dainty noticed that Fiber glanced at the door, and for a moment lost his focus. It took a moment for Dainty to turn around and see what had attracted his attention. Once he did, he saw Macramé in the doorway, standing still, watching them. He went on singing and playing as usual, still noticing that Fiber looked extremely surprised, and seemed to play with even more motivation than before.

When they finished the song, Dainty noticed Macramé making some short, gentle grunts.

“You liked it, buddy?” Fiber said with a smile. “It’s good music, isn’t it?”

“Let’s play another one, what do you think?” Dainty said.

“Sure, sure! What do you suggest?”

“Um, let’s do The World’s Been Acting So Complicated. I really like that one.”

“Okay! Do the count in, Dainty,” Fiber said, getting in position.

They launched into the song, and Dainty felt it sounded especially lively, even though the rest of the band wasn’t there to play along. At some point, Fiber’s mother came to the door and stood there as well, next to Macramé, until the song was over.

“You like the music, Macramé?” Twill Weave said, looking at Fiber. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Come on, now, it’s time for your snack. You can hear them play later, okay?”

The young pony seemed to object a little, but his mother guided him away.

Hard Fiber took a trembling breath.

“It seems we have a new fan,” Dainty said with a smile.

Fiber looked at him. “I’ve never seen my brother so happy, Dainty,” he said. “He was… so calm.”

Dainty gave an involuntary grin, noticing how deeply moved Fiber was.

“You don’t have the habit of playing music to him?”

“Well, I mostly practice my stuff,” Fiber said, “but… I don’t really play the songs, I guess. I mean, I don’t even know how to sing.”

Dainty gestured to the door with his head. “Now you‘ve got a motivation to learn, don’t you?”

Fiber smiled timidly. “I guess so.”

At Thursday's rehearsal, once everypony had arrived, Dainty and Steel mentioned their meeting with the manager of the theater, and the dates they could choose from.

“We thought it would be better to pick either a Friday or a Saturday, as that would probably mean a larger audience,” Dainty said. “They also had Sunday available, but, since River Mouth has her field work, that would be out of question.”

“Oh, yes, about that,” she said, scratching her head. “I now have pretty much all evenings available. The… the research on the lake has been cancelled.”

The other four ponies looked at her, uncertain how to react. “You mean, you’ve finished it?” Hard Fiber said.

“No, no, actually cancelled,” River said. “It seems to have run out of funding, or something, so… there was no way to go on.”

“Oh… that sucks, River,” Honey Drop said.

“Yeah, it does, Honey,” she replied. “And worse is… well, honestly, let’s not talk about that. Let’s focus on the band, which is much better.” She gave an insincere smile.

“Well, yeah, let’s do it, then,” Dainty said, trying to get back into gear.

They looked at the dates, and managed to choose a date very quickly. They decided to keep a second date as a plan B, just in case the first choice became unavailable. They also talked about how they should go about advertising the concert, and Dainty brought out some of his sketches of how band photos could be. They gathered around his bed, to look at his ideas and discuss.

“But, are we, like, gonna pay a photographer to do this?” Honey Drop said. “We’re not gonna get this done for free, are we?”

“Yes, we’re gonna pay for it,” Dainty said. “We’ll have to look for somepony to do this for a reasonable price.”

“I know a friend who does photography,” Hard Fiber said. “He’s… well, he’s not like a professional, but I’ve seen some of his photos and he’s pretty good. I think he could charge us a little less to get this done.”

“That sounds good, Fiber!” Dainty said. “Get him in touch with us. I’m thinking that we could put some posters around the town. If we talk to the mayor, we can do it without making a mess.”

“Sounds like a good idea, Dainty,” River said. “We should try to generate a buzz.”

“Okay, then, Fiber, talk to your friend and see if he can have a meeting with us,” Dainty said. “If he agrees to work with us, we’ll arrange a day to get this done.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to him,” Fiber said. “So somepony has to go to the theater and schedule our concert, right?”

“I believe I can do this tomorrow,” Dainty said. “I can do it on my own, so if none of you can go, there’s no trouble.”

“Okay, I don’t know if I can make it tomorrow, so if you can do it, that’s wonderful,” Steel said.

“Alright. So let’s play?” Dainty said, going to his position. “Let’s try to get the new songs finished, and maybe go on to the last ones. There’s just a few left to go.”

“Yeah!” Honey said, rushing to his drum kit. “Let’s go!”

They prepared their instruments, and went off to play the new songs in the setlist. River Mouth was visibly unenthusiastic, and that even affected her playing, though it wasn’t getting in the way of the others. Dainty put on a new song for them to learn, and they worked on it for a while. After that, they saw they wouldn’t have enough time to play the entire setlist, so they chose to focus on the songs that needed improvement.

Dainty couldn’t hold back his excitement at the fact that they only had one song left to learn, Waiting for Me, and he presumed that it would be ready in two rehearsals at most. And then, they’d just have to tighten up their performances. The band, already tired, started putting away their instruments to leave, and most of them were chatting about their next plans. Only River Mouth remained mostly silent.

“River,” Dainty said, discreetly approaching her. “Do you… Do you wanna stay here and talk to us? You know, just to talk?”

She pondered for a moment. “Yes, I would. Thank you, Dainty.”

Fiber and Honey went on preparing to leave. Fiber asked whether River was heading out too, but she just casually said she was staying for a while longer. They bid the other two ponies farewell, and Dainty closed the door. Steel, sitting on the bed, just watched the two.

“So, River,” Dainty said, a little unsure. “You wanna talk about what happened?”

River Mouth sighed profoundly, looking at the floor, as if deep in thought. “They… they cancelled the project, guys. They just… decided it had to stop. They say they had no more funding, but, honestly, I don’t know. They didn’t care to explain it properly to us. They just sent us home and said it was over.”

“And your work wasn’t done yet?” Steel said.

“No, it was nowhere near done!” she complained. “We still had a lot to do!... And the worst thing is that… well, the consequences may be terrible.”

“Really? Why?” Dainty said.

River exhaled. “This… this place, Dainty, it’s a huge, beautiful lake. It has a rich vegetation, and it attracts all sorts of birds and other animals… You can see the fish swimming in it. But… for some months now, this… this strange fungus started growing all over it, and it’s throwing the entire ecology out of balance. We were investigating why, and how we could possibly revert it.”

“Fungus?” Steel said. “I thought you studied underwater stuff.”

“We’re a multidisciplinary team, Steel,” she said. “I’m responsible for studying the effect of the fungus on the water plants and the algae and fish. But there’s more of us working on this. And the thing is, if we stop working now, the entire place might be destroyed. The fungus seems to be very strong and aggressive, and, if we don’t act, we can’t be sure that it can be naturally stopped.”

“Yeah, that sounds bad,” Dainty said.

“Dainty, it’s… it’s a gorgeous place,” River said. “It’s wonderful, and it’s… scary to think that all this beauty can just disappear, and that I did nothing to prevent it.”

“But, River, it’s not like you did nothing,” Dainty objected. “You were working on it. You did what you could.”

“But it wasn’t enough!” she replied with anger. “It… wasn’t enough.”

Dainty scratched his head, unsure of what to say.

“Well, is there anything you can actually do, River?” Steel said.

“I’ve talked to the professor in charge,” River replied, “and she just said that she’ll see if she can secure more funding and get the project running again… but, honestly, I don’t know whether she really means it, or if she's just making excuses.”

“Then I guess you’ve done your best,” Dainty said.

She shook her head. “Dainty, that doesn’t cut it for me! I just can’t sit on my ass and think, ‘oh, well, I did my best!’ Well, have I? For all I care, I’m doing nothing right now. Nothing. If nothing is literally the best I can do, then what kind of pathetic, worthless pony am I? Tell me, Dainty, what’s the use in me saying, ‘I did my best,’ when that whole place is being ruined by that stupid fungus? Does it care if I did my best? It doesn’t!”

“Yes, River, I know what you mean,” Dainty said, approaching her. “This really sucks, like, it really, really does. And it’s totally fine for you to try to do something about it. But you shouldn’t punish yourself for something that’s beyond your reach. Just try to focus on what you can do.”

“That’s easier said than done, I guess,” she replied, looking to the side. “But you’re right… I just feel so… helpless, you know. This was a real problem that I could help fix. I studied all my life exactly so that I could do this kind of thing, and then… everything’s just ripped right out of my hooves.”

“It sounds awful,” Steel said. “I guess you should try talking around to somepony who could make a difference. I don’t know, maybe reach out to Princess Twilight? Perhaps she could do something.”

River took a deep breath. “I don’t know… could she even do something about this?”

“Perhaps it’s worth giving it a shot,” Dainty said. “I think it’s a good idea.”

“Maybe,” she replied, shrugging, and sighed. “Sorry to drag you down with such a bummer, but I really needed to talk about this… Thank you for letting me vent.”

“You know you can always talk to us when you want to, River,” Steel Strings said. “No need to keep things to yourself.”

River felt like she had said all she had to say about that subject, and the subject changed to less unpleasant things. Dainty made themselves some tea, and they stood there, chatting for a while longer, until she felt it was time to leave. Dainty felt like she looked a little better, but she was still dispirited, and he fully understood that.

On the next Saturday, Hard Fiber gave them the news that he had arranged a meeting with his photographer friend on Monday evening, to talk about their ideas for a photo session. The other four signalled that they’d be available, and were eager to get that next step done. Also, Dainty said he had successfully scheduled their chosen day for the concert in Ponyville Theater, so the five of them were quite enthusiastic for that rehearsal. Dainty suggested they start learning the final song in their setlist, and so they did. They worked on that song for a while, and then tried to play the full setlist, start to finish, to get a taste of how it would sound like. Dainty was particularly ecstatic.

The meeting with the photographer had been arranged in a café, which was near Steel Strings’s house. Dainty picked him up after his shift and went there, where Hard Fiber was already waiting. In just a few minutes Fiber noticed his friend arriving.

“Oh, there he is!” he said, raising a hoof.

The unicorn, with a dark red, almost brown coat and a black curly mane, casually approached the table.

“Guys, this is Sharp Focus,” Fiber said, getting up. “These are Dainty Tunes and Steel Strings. The others should be coming up.”

“Hi,” he said, in a soft tenor voice, sitting down. “Nice to meet you.”

“Hello, Focus,” Dainty replied. “Nice to meet you too!”

“Yep, same here,” Steel said. “I think maybe we should wait for the others?”

“Yeah, let’s give them some time,” Dainty said.

They started to make some casual, small talk. Sharp Focus was a soft spoken, rather timid pony, and he mostly listened to what the others had to say. They talked a bit about their experience as a band, and Focus just asked a few questions about that.

River Mouth arrived soon afterward. They decided to order some drinks while they waited for Honey Drop to arrive. They chatted and drank for a while, and after about twenty minutes, there was no sign of Honey.

“I guess he had some trouble,” River said. “But I think we can get to business with just the five of us, right?”

“Yeah, I guess we can,” Dainty said, reaching to his saddlebag next to the table. “So, I’ve made some sketches of some ideas I discussed with the band.”

He pulled out a few sheets of paper with hoof drawings, and passed them to Sharp Focus. “Some of those are suggestions the others made, too. I just thought you might get a rough idea of what we have in mind.”

Focus looked at them in silence, seeming to contemplate them deeply.

“Of course, those are just suggestions,” Dainty said, unsure whether he should fill the silence or let him examine the sketches quietly, “but I know nothing about photography. So, your ideas will also be welcome.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to get a feel for it,” Focus said. “These are interesting, they give a direction. But I think I need to check out your sound first. I need to know what your music sounds like, to get a mental picture.”

“Of course, that makes total sense,” Steel said. “I presume you could attend our next rehearsal, if you’re available. What do you think, Dainty?”

“Sure! You should totally come,” he replied. “We’ll play this Wednesday evening, in my house.”

“Okay, I’ll be available,” Sharp Focus said. “And then we can arrange a shooting session. Maybe on the weekend? Either Saturday or Sunday is fine.”

“That sounds good to me,” River said.

So, they went on talking about their music, their ideas, and Focus shared some of his story, and said music was a great interest of his, though he didn’t play anything.

“But you know,” he said, “being hired to do a job like this is good for me to learn. I like to photograph landscapes and buildings, mostly, but promotional shots for a band is something new to me… uh, I mean, Fiber did tell you that I’m not really a professional yet, right?”

“Sure, sure, don’t worry,” Dainty said. “I mean, none of us in the band are really professionals either. I think we can all just help each other, you know? Artists should get together and offer support.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Focus said. “And if you’re offering support, I’m not one to deny it, right?” He chuckled, almost shyly.

After that, they talked about the payment, and Sharp Focus confirmed that he’d charge them a low price, both because he still considered himself a student, and as a favour for Hard Fiber. Dainty was concerned about Honey Drop’s absence, and, as the evening wore on and Focus decided he had to leave, Dainty said he’d pay a visit to Honey to tell him the news and check if things were fine.

“He probably had to stay to help with something on the farm,” Fiber said. “After all, it wasn’t required for everypony to be here.”

“Yeah, but he’s not one to just not show up, like that,” Dainty said. “I’ll just check out on him anyway.”

“Okay, sure,” Fiber said.

Dainty made it to Honey Drop’s house the next evening. He was warmly greeted by his parents. Mrs. Honey said her son was in his bedroom, and went to call him. Dainty stayed in the living room, and made some small chat with Mr. Honey, asking about the farm and life in general. Dainty noticed he wasn’t terribly keen on small talk, so he tried not to extend the conversation too much. He made those questions mostly out of politeness.

After a while, Honey Drop came to the living room. “Hey, there, Dainty,” he said, without much enthusiasm. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty fine, pretty fine,” Dainty replied, getting up. “How about you?”

“Yeah, I’m… I’m alright,” Honey said, glancing behind his back. “You know, I’m sorry I didn’t come out to see you right away, but I’ve been doing some reading lately, and I didn’t want to put down the book without finishing the chapter. I didn’t mean to be impolite…”

Honey smiled sheepishly, and Dainty gave a dismissive hoof wave. “Pft, no worries, buddy.”

“So, uh, you’re here to talk about the band, right?” Honey said.

“Well, in part, yeah,” Dainty said, with a shrug. “But it’s also to know how you’re doing. Since you didn’t come to the meeting last night, I wanted to check if everything was fine.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, there was that,” Honey replied, looking clearly uncomfortable. “Do you wanna go with me to the back room to chat? I think it’s better than here.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dainty said, already noticing that something wasn’t quite right.

He followed Honey to the room with the drum kit, and they sat in a pair of chairs, in two corners of the room.

“So, we talked to Hard Fiber’s photographer friend,” Dainty said. “He agreed to do the job, but he only wanted to hear us play first. So, we invited him to our next rehearsal. He’ll be there to check us out, and then we’ll probably have our photo shoot this weekend. He’s gonna make us a cheap price, so it shouldn’t be any trouble for any of us.”

“Yeah, that’s cool, Dainty,” Honey Drop said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t go, I… well. I didn’t mean to desert you, but… well…”

“Nah, it was no big deal, Honey, don’t worry,” Dainty said. “It wasn’t strictly necessary that everypony be there. I just… Well, I just wondered what happened. You don’t usually leave us waiting, you know. Is everything alright?”

Honey scratched the back of his head. “Well, um… I, uh… You see, Dainty, I’m… We have this concert scheduled, and all, and I’m totally on board to do it, since you’re counting on me and all… but, Dainty, we gotta face it. I’m a bad drummer. That’s just what it is.”

For a moment, Dainty was unable to react. He just stared blankly at Honey Drop for a second, and blinked. “What… What do you mean, Honey?”

“I mean exactly what I said,” Honey replied, trying to sound dry, but unable to. “I’m not a good drummer. I suck at it.”

Dainty couldn’t help but frown. “Honey Drop, look, you’re a beginner, that’s true. You haven’t been playing for a long time, but you have improved a lot since we started. You learned all the songs, you’ve worked on your technique, and you sound great when you play with us. You’re not a bad drummer, Honey! Where did you even get that idea?”

Honey gazed at the floor, uncertain. He had that look of somepony who isn’t sure whether they should say something. “This Sunday, we received a visit from some relatives of mine. My uncle is a drummer, you know, and he asked to hear me play. And, well, he said that… that my drumming is really bad, and I still have many, many things to improve before I could call myself a drummer. I mean, I didn’t even hold the drumsticks right, Dainty. Even that was wrong! If my uncle hadn’t told me, I would’ve never known.”

“What do you mean?” Dainty said, puzzled.

“Here, look,” Honey said, pulling a pair of drumsticks from his kit. “You know, I used to play like this, you know?” he said, strapping the sticks to his hooves parallel from each other, away from his body. “But this is wrong.” He turned the drumstick on his left hoof around, so it pointed towards his other hoof. “This is the right way to do it. This is how I should be playing. And, well, when I try to play like this, I really can’t. I have to learn it all over again.”

Dainty scratched his head. “Look, Honey, I’m sure those are just two different techniques. I’ve seen other ponies play like you were doing before. It wasn’t wrong. I’m sure Pinkie Pie could tell you about this.”

“Dainty, my uncle is a real drummer,” Honey insisted. “He’s played with bands. He’s actually recorded music. He sat down at the drum kit to show me a few things, and, well, the stuff he does is unbelievable. It’s ridiculous. I love Pinkie Pie, but she’s not a real drummer like he is. He knows a million things about music, so, if I’m to believe someone, I’ll believe him, you know.”

“Honey, I’m not saying anything against your uncle,” Dainty said, already exasperated, “I just… I mean, what kind of music does your uncle play?”

“Oh, all kinds,” Honey said, shrugging. “He plays stuff like jazz, mostly. I hardly know anything about it, but he plays a lot of stuff.”

“Does he play rock music?”

“He said rock is not real music. It’s primitive noise, it has no technique. He said, if I keep listening to rock, I’ll never learn to play a real instrument.”

Dainty slammed his forehooves down on his thighs. “Well, there, Honey! Do you think that’s right? Do you even agree with him? Do you think rock is not real music?”

“Well, I…” Honey sighed. “I, uh… I guess I like the music that we play, and I like the songs, and all, but… but I wanna be a good musician, Dainty. I wanna play stuff that’s good, that other ponies like.”

“Honey Drop, look, the most important thing is that you have to play things that you like,” Dainty said. “You need to play the sound that you like to make, not what others think you should make. That’s what making music is all about, buddy.”

“Oh, come on, Dainty! Don’t give me that shit!” Honey shot back. “The only reason why we’re rehearsing so much is that we wanna play for other ponies and we want them to like our music. We want to be good, so they’ll enjoy what we do. That’s the whole point.”

“Honestly? I don’t think so,” Dainty said. “I rehearse so much because I like being as good as I can possibly be, and because the songs deserve it. I have no idea if anypony else out there will like it or not, and there’s no way I can make anypony like it. All I can do is be the best possible version of myself and hope for the best, and I can only do that if I’m doing the things I like, the way I like them. There are no rules, there’s just us and the music. And I remember the way you played with us. You were enthusiastic, full of energy. You loved it, Honey Drop! Remember how happy you were when you played Twenty Nine with us for the first time? Remember our gig? You were up in the clouds. You can not tell me that all of that is gone just because somepony told you that you’re not good, and I don’t care how good they are and with how many bands they played. They have no right to steal your enthusiasm, Honey. They can’t do that.”

Honey shook his head. “I dunno, Dainty, I…”

“Come on, you can’t have lost the enjoyment of playing, Honey Drop,” Dainty insisted. “Come on, play something that you like. Something fun, something that makes you happy.”

“Anything?” Honey said, glancing tentatively at the drum kit.

“Yeah, anything, whatever you want. Just something that you have fun with.”

Honey Drop shook the drumsticks in the air a little, and got up, heading for the drums. “Okay, I guess… There’s something that Pinkie taught me one day,” he said, sitting on the stool. “She calls it The Pinkie Pie Stomp. I don’t know if she made it up on the spot for me to play, but it goes like this.”

Honey started to play a constant pulse on the kick drum, and a rather complex, syncopated beat on the toms. Honey bobbed his head a little to keep track of the pulse, and then started to chant a repeated verse, with just spoken words, without melody:

Everypony around, stamp your hooves on the ground!
Roll, jump and romp to the Pinkie Pie Stomp!

Dainty started to swing his body to the rhythm, complimenting the beat by drumming on his own thighs, and started to chant along. As they went, Honey Drop started to create variations on the drum beat, playing the snare and the cymbals, doing some rolls and extra beats, until it all suddenly died down, and he sighed.

“Why did you stop?” Dainty said.

Honey looked at his hooves: he had the drumsticks the “wrong” way again. “Well, you know… Okay, maybe this is fun for me, but is it fun for anypony else?”

“Well, it was for me,” Dainty replied with a wry smile. “And you were doing well. Those variations at the end, are they part of the song?”

“Oh, no, no, I… I just started to improvise. Pinkie told me to try to improvise, so I’d always try to do something.”

“So you see?” Dainty said, getting up. “How would you do that if you were a bad drummer, Honey Drop?”

“Dainty, look,” Honey said, looking at the floor, “I… I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Honestly, I do. You’re a sweet guy, and all, but… Look, I already told you, I’m gonna play the concert with you. I wouldn’t quit on a commitment like that. But, after that, I’ll… I’ll just go, and you can find a better drummer.”

“But, Honey, you are the right drummer for us!” Dainty said, almost in a pleading tone. “What does it even mean to the ‘better’ anyway? I don’t care. I don’t want a ‘better’ drummer, Honey, I want you.”

Honey Drop pondered for a second, and then gave Dainty an oblique look. “You already have a boyfriend, you know.”

Dainty, caught off guard, couldn’t react for a second, and then scoffed, trying not to lose his pose. “Oh, sweet Honey, you’re nice and all, but you’re not my style.”

They both laughed briefly, but the laugh was cut short. “I… you know that I’m just joking, right? ‘Cause, you know, I… I’m not into stallions, and all…”

“Oh, of course we’re just joking, Honey, buddy,” Dainty said with a smile.

“Yeah, I mean, besides… you and Steel are so cool together, you know?” Honey said. “Like, it’s kinda funny how you try to disguise it, but you always act like you haven’t seen each other in years… which is funny, of course, because you probably see each other every day, and all.”

Dainty paused for a second. “Well, actually, we don’t. We… only see each other in rehearsals, really. We… have an agreement to only meet twice a week.”

Honey Drop couldn’t hide his bewilderment. “Oh… wow, really? But why?”

“Well, it’s something that we decided is best for us… More like, it’s something Steel asked.” Dainty said, going back to his chair. “He has his reasons.”

“Wow, that’s crazy,” Honey said, soon widening his eyes. “I mean, like, I’m not judging you, or anything, it’s just… I don’t know if I could do that, you know? If I had a girlfriend right now, I’d want to be with her all the time!”

“You ever had a girlfriend, Honey?”

“Yeah, I had,” Honey replied, a little sadly. “It was… nice, you know, but it didn’t work out… She was a nice mare, and all, but… well… Maybe someday she’ll wanna see me again, but for now… Eh. I’ll live, right? But it was great. We were together almost all the time… I guess that’s gotta be a thing for older ponies, right? Since you’re more mature, you do better on your own, I suppose.”

Dainty stared idly at a random spot, and then sighed. “To be honest, Honey? I… Maybe I’m not that mature either, because I also wish I could be with Steel all the time… but I can’t. And I miss him terribly. It’s… pretty bad when he’s not around. It’s not awful, because I learned to deal with it, but I feel… I feel empty, you know? And what’s worse is that, in my mind, I know that this is better for us, and we’re making the right decision… but I can’t control my heart, Honey. I… I still need him regardless. Sometimes…” He took a deep, trembling breath. “Sometimes I wish I liked him a little bit less, you know? Just so that I didn’t miss him so much. But I can’t. I love him. I love him like an idiot, like a lunatic, like a fucking maniac. And it… hurts. It hurts.”

Honey made a pause, unsure of what to say. “Sorry for that, dude.”

Dainty gave a sad smile. “You know, I think, when we’re young, we think the adults have everything figured out, because they’ve lived enough, and they’ve seen enough stuff. They solve problems, you know? They get stuff done. They fix things and they do things right. But, I look at myself, and I feel like I can’t do any fucking thing right, Honey Drop. I’m… I’m a complete mess. I can’t fix my own feelings, so how could I fix anything else? I can’t do anything right, dude, that’s the truth.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Honey Drop said, raising his hooves. “That’s bullshit, dude! What do you mean? Look at the stuff you’ve got! You created the band! You started this thing and you got us to learn the songs and all, and you scheduled a concert. And you have a job, you have a nice house, you’re great at music, and you have friends… If you really couldn’t do anything right, how could you have all that?”

“Yeah,” Dainty said, with a sigh, “but I don’t have Steel. I don’t have… him.”

“But, like, do you need to have him?”

“Well, not like owning him, no,” Dainty said. “I just… I just wish I could have him close to me more often. When he’s not with me, I feel… I feel incomplete, I feel kinda scared, and I just can’t wait until we meet again.”

Honey pondered for a second. “You know, that reminds me of one of the songs we play.”

Dainty looked up at him. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah.”

Then, Honey Drop started to sing a few verses, which Dainty immediately recognised as Seven Cities. Honey’s voice was a little out of tune and weak, but he sang with his heart:

I am so in love
With the sound of your voice
And the light inside your eyes
But you broke my heart
And I feel a hole in my soul
Where you once were

Honey started to play a gentle, tentative beat on the drums along with the song, mostly keeping the rhythm on a ride cymbal and softly tapping the snare.

You’re so far away from me
Everything around feels empty
And I can’t stop the tears from falling
Every night

Before going to the second verse, he noticed Dainty was crying, almost sinking into the chair.

“Oh, sorry, Dainty!” Honey said, embarrassed, stopping the beat. “I didn’t… want to…”

“No, no! Please, go on!” Dainty said. “Don’t stop!”

“Really?”

“Yes, go on!”

Surprised, Honey started the beat again, and went back to singing.

My heart is aching
And it makes me so sorry
It’s lost and lonely
With no hope for tomorrow

As he went back to the chorus, he heard Dainty singing along, amid sobs.

You’re so far away from me
Everything around feels scary
And I can’t stop the tears from falling
Every night

Honey’s drum beat was growing stronger and more steady, and Dainty seemed to want to break out of his weeping and give into the song.

Hurry back to me, please
I am losing my mind
I need to hear the beating of your heart
I need your love
And the light in your eyes
Come back to me and heal my soul

Dainty was drumming on his thighs again, and Honey was playing the whole drum beat as he remembered it.

You’re so far away from me
And I feel my spirit weeping
Hear it crying
Crying
Crying…

Dainty vocalised the ending of the song, and Honey followed him, until he played the ending drum fill.. He looked at Dainty, with a smile.

Dainty smiled back, suddenly sighed and started to weep again. “Thank you for that, Honey. I needed that.”

Honey scratched his head with a drumstick. “Yeah, no problem, buddy, but… it’s weird how you actually wanted me to play a song that makes you sad.”

“Remember when Pinkie said that sad songs can make us feel less lonely?” Dainty replied. “That’s what you did, Honey. Hearing you sing… was like being hugged, you know? It was like an embrace. I… feel better now.”

Honey Drop pondered for a moment, in deep surprise. “And I did that?”

Dainty raised his eyes and gave him a mischievous smile. “You see what I mean now? I don’t need a ‘better’ drummer, because I have the best drummer.”

Without an explanation, Honey felt himself overcome with emotion, and burst into tears. “Aw, dude!”

Dainty rushed to him and hugged him. “Come on, my friend!”

He gently patted Honey on the back, and felt as if a massive load was being lifted from Honey’s back.

Thursday evening arrived with a new opportunity for a rehearsal, but with the added responsibility of having an audience now. Hard Fiber and Sharp Focus arrived together, a little earlier than Fiber used to arrive, shortly before River Mouth did. Dainty introduced him to Honey Drop, who felt particularly electric that evening. It seemed like his chat with Dainty had livened him up quite a bit.

“So, what’s it gonna be today?” Honey said, after he finished assembling his drums.

“Well, let’s play the whole setlist, shall we?” Dainty said. “Let’s pretend it’s a real concert.”

“Yeah, but, it would be nice if we had copies of the setlist to follow along,” River Mouth said.

“Oh, of course!” Dainty said, reaching to grab some sheets of paper from the top of the piano. “I prepared them last night. Here you go.”

He distributed the copies to his bandmates, while Sharp Focus paid attention to everything, making some notes on a notebook, a pencil magically hovering before him. The band prepared themselves to start playing, and, when Dainty noticed everypony was silent and in position, he pointed at Sharp Focus.

“Okay, guys? Let’s do it.”

Honey Drop did the count in for the first song, Is It, and they launched into it. Dainty felt the band sounded quite full of energy. They still made a few mistakes, but it didn’t detract from the feeling, which remained tight all the way to the end of the song.

“Okay, let’s not take too long,” Dainty said. “Let’s jump into the next one.”

“Give me a second,” Steel Strings said, and signaled that he was ready.

He started playing the song, and the whole band soon jumped in. Sharp Focus kept watching, gently bobbing his head to the beat, making a few notes here and there.

When the song ended, Focus raised his hoof. “Uh, guys? I was thinking of something here.”

“Yeah? Go ahead,” Dainty said, adjusting his microphone stand.

“Well, I wanted to try to get some pictures of you while you’re playing. Like, I don’t want you to make poses or anything. I just want to capture you in the moment, focused on the music. Do you think it’s okay?”

Dainty looked around the band, and the faces looked approving.

“Yeah, go ahead, Focus,” he said. “But keep in mind, we didn’t prepare for that, and this is just a rehearsal.”

“Yeah, that’s the good part,” Focus replied, getting up from the chair to get his camera. “It will be more spontaneous.”

“Sounds cool to me,” Honey Drop said, adjusting the tuning of his snare drum a little.

And so, Sharp Focus prepared his camera, and signalled to the band that they could go on. For the next songs, Focus would often just keep watching, and then move around taking pictures. Dainty noticed he would often take photos of the individual members, but he had no idea how they would come out. And so, Dainty just did what he had asked, and focused on the music, singing as well as he could. The other band members also did the same, and tried to just ignore the camera—except for Honey Drop, who couldn’t help but spread his wings a little when he noticed Sharp Focus was aiming the camera at him.

As they finished playing Lost Time, the final song in the set, Dainty made a gesture to Sharp Focus. “So, this is our show. What do you think?”

“Well, I’m getting some ideas already,” Focus said, adjusting some things in the camera. “I think I got a feel for it. When we get together for our photo session, I’ll tell you what I think. How’s that?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steel Strings said. “I think we should use our remaining time to work on a couple of songs, what do you think? I think Waiting for Me is still a little bit rough.”

“Me too,” River Mouth said. “I still want to improve a few things about it.”

“Sure, let’s do it,” Dainty said. “If you want, you can stay all the way until the end, Focus. We should work for about an hour more, I think.”

“Okay, I can stick around,” Focus said, sitting on his chair. “I have nothing else to do, so I might as well enjoy some free music for now.” He gave his usual giggle, and Dainty couldn’t avoid grinning.

“So, let’s do Waiting for Me, then?” Honey Drop said. “I’m ready.”

The band launched into the song, and then kept working on a few others. Some comments were made about the song order, and they approved a single change. They agreed to meet on Saturday for the photo shoot, instead of the usual rehearsal.

The other four ponies left the house, leaving Dainty and Steel behind. Steel lay back in bed while Dainty went to close the door.

“So, it’s happening, my love!” Dainty said. “We’re closer to it!”

“Exciting, isn’t it?” Steel replied, with a gentle smile. “Are you tired, sweetheart?”

“Not much, actually,” Dainty said. “Why?”

Steel lay back on the bed. “I was thinking that you could play something for me tonight. Would you do it?”

Surprised by the question, Dainty tilted his head gently. “Sure I will.” He sat by the piano and stretched his hooves. “What do you wanna hear?”

“Play me something that you wrote,” Steel Strings said. “I wanna hear something that sounds like you.”

Dainty raised his eyebrows, and immediately started to mentally go through his own songs to choose something to play. He chose something gentle, the closest thing to romantic that he had written, which meant it wasn’t really romantic. “Okay, then.”

And so, he lay his hooves on the keyboard, and a few vague, oblique chords filled the room. Dainty’s voice soon followed, and Steel just rested his head on the pillow, letting the music fill him up. He closed his eyes and focused on those sounds, and, for a few moments, he couldn’t even feel his own body anymore; he was hovering inside the music, like Dainty was softly caressing his soul.

He only felt it all go away when the song was over.

“Can you play another one?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dainty replied, softly clearing his throat.

Dainty played another song, and then another. By the end of the second song, he started to do an improvisation on the piano, as he felt suddenly struck by inspiration. He just let the melodies guide him along, and led the song to a drawn out, soft ending.

As the sound of the strings died away, he turned around and saw Steel Strings lying with his eyes closed, breathing slowly and deeply.

“Steel?” he whispered. “Are you asleep, love?”

“No, sweetheart,” Steel replied with a smile. “I was listening. Thank you for that, lovely.”

“It was a pleasure,” Dainty replied. “Can I… can I join you now?”

Steel looked at him and grinned, with lidded eyes. “Of course. I’d like you to play another instrument now,” he said, pointing at himself.

Dainty shivered and smiled. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, getting up.

The band met with Sharp Focus in Dainty’s house early Saturday afternoon. Focus examined Dainty’s sketches of photos and posters again, and asked if he could take them to use as a reference. The band talked about a few ideas, but nothing specific.

“Well, I thought about this since I saw your rehearsal, and I do have some ideas,” Focus said. Dainty noticed that his usual soft, laid back tone was now replaced by a more professional, serious manner of speaking. “You’re the Ponyville Rag, right? You belong to Ponyville. So, I wanted to place you physically in the town. I want you to be geographically located in Ponyville. So, I thought we could go around the town and capture some of its scenery, so that Ponyville itself becomes an element of the music.”

“That sounds fair to me,” Dainty said.

“Also, Dainty, I noticed in your sketches that the five of you are all on the same plane, right?” Focus said.

Dainty frowned a little, and instinctively glanced at Steel Strings. “Uh, what do you mean?”

“Oh, you’re, like, you’re all the same,” Focus said, gesturing with a hoof, “nopony’s in front of anypony else. You’re all on the same level.”

“Oh, of course!” Dainty replied. “I mean, we’re a band. There’s five of us, and nopony is more important.”

“Exactly,” Focus said. “I want to preserve that. One more thing I thought is that I don’t want you posing. I don’t want anything that looks like you’re showing off to the camera. I noticed while you played that each one had a very natural personality, a certain pose, a certain demeanor. I want that to show in the photos. Just be who you are when you’re playing. Act like you’re preparing for a rehearsal, or something. No cool poses, no posturing, nothing. Just be a band, you see?”

“Aw, but I wanted to look cool on the poster!” Honey said.

“Honey Drop, you are cool,” River Mouth replied. “No need to look like it.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Heheh, okay, I’ll trust you!”

“Yes, because, also,” Focus went on, “the music you play, it’s very personal and very honest. I realise they’re not your songs, but it sounds like it really comes from inside you. It’s not an act. The photos have to look like that, like it’s just you in there, your essence, your spirit. So, to put it short, the image I have in mind is: the five of you, living, existing in Ponyville. But I want chemistry between you, interaction, dynamic. You’re a band, the music depends on all of you. There’s a balance. The photos have to be like that.”

“That sounds like a pretty difficult thing to do, actually,” Honey said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, Honey, that’s really up to me to do,” Focus said. “You have the easiest job. I’m just showing you the ideas I have, so we can be on the same page.”

“Yeah, I like that,” Steel Strings said. “I agree with what you say.”

“Are we all in agreement?” Dainty said, looking at the others.

They all nodded and said words of approval. And so, they left the house, Hard Focus with the camera hanging from his neck, and the other five with just their own selves.

From Dainty’s house, they headed in the direction of the town hall, trotting through the streets under the intense, but gentle light of the sun. Sharp Focus heard the band chatting casually as they went, which made it feel like they were just going out for a stroll. At one point, Focus asked them to stop.

“Let’s stick here for a moment, I wanna try something out,” he said.

“Should we do something?” Hard Fiber said.

“No, no, just ignore me,” Focus said, as he walked around and looked around himself, as if studying the scenery.

The band members just exchanged glances and kept chatting. Dainty sometimes paid attention to Focus, and noticed him looking through the viewfinder sometimes, but didn’t know if he was taking pictures or not.

After a while, Focus asked them to move to another spot and spread out a little, but still keep chatting and enjoying their time. Focus moved frantically around, looking for angles and looking through the camera time and time again.

“Okay, just look at the camera now,” he said.

The five heads turned to him.

“Is he actually taking pictures or not?” Honey Drop said.

“No idea,” River said. “But let’s leave him to do his work, I guess.”

Sharp Focus did some more of his thing, and then told them to keep moving. The scene repeated when they were closer to the town hall. Dainty couldn’t help but find it a little uncomfortable just hanging in there, though the mood did loosen up as they went, and it became easier to just ignore Focus.

They went to the town square, and also posed there for a while. Sharp Focus took some more liberties this time, suggesting specific spots for each member to stay on, but still told them to talk and interact, as if they were just hanging out. At one point, he asked them to trot towards the camera. “Do it as if you’re going to a rehearsal, or a concert,” he said.

The group went on walking through a few more streets, until they found a spot where the clock tower was in view. The scene repeated, and Dainty was surprised when Sharp Focus climbed on some nearby crates to get his angles. Again, Focus asked them to look at the camera for a moment.

“I’m thinking of taking some pictures in the train station,” Focus said, going back to the ground. “What do you think?”

“Ohh, come on, aren’t we done yet?” Honey Drop groaned.

“Honey Drop!” Dainty scolded. “Don’t be rude! Show some respect to Sharp Focus.”

“Yeah, I don’t mean to disrespect,” Honey said, a little embarrassed as they started to walk again. “I just, I mean, do we even need so many photos? Aren’t we just gonna make a poster?”

“I’m trying to give you lots of options, so that you can choose the one you like best,” Sharp Focus said. “Also, you might need more photos in the future, and you won’t need to go through this all over again. I mean, it’s not like you’re just gonna do this one concert and disband, are you?”

“No, of course not!” Honey said eagerly.

“Yeah, he’s right, Honey,” Dainty said. “Let’s take this day and do as much as we can.”

They kept walking, until they reached the station. Focus really took his time in each location, exploring it deeply and looking for possible angles and positions for the band. After that, they walked towards a nearby hill, where Ponyville was in plain sight. Dainty noticed Focus had changed the film roll quite a few times, but he couldn’t calculate how many pictures he had taken already.

Slowly, they headed back into town, picking a few more shooting spots along the way, until they ended up in front of Dainty’s house.

“Well, I think I did everything I had thought about,” Focus said. “Do you have anything in mind that we missed?”

The band exchanged glances. “Not me, no,” Dainty said.

“Yeah, we did a lot more than I thought we would,” Steel said. “I think we should have enough by now.”

“I agree,” River said. “It was pretty great.”

“So, why don’t we come inside, then?” Dainty said, turning to Focus. “I can give you your payment, and you can have a cup of tea with us.”

“Yeah, I’ll take the payment, but I’ll pass on the tea, Dainty.” Focus said. “I want to go and get some of the photos developed right away. I should have them by… Tuesday or Wednesday, I believe.”

“That’s pretty fast,” Dainty said. “But okay, do as you wish, Focus.”

“Yeah, I like to work fast. The faster I do it, the sooner I get it over with,” he replied, with his usual chuckle. “Hope you guys don’t mind.”

“No, of course not!” Dainty said, as they headed inside.

He gave Focus his payment, which he stored in his saddlebag.

“Well, thanks for the invitation, guys, but I wanna get going to the lab now,” Focus said. “I’ll let Fiber know when the photos are ready. So, see you next time?”

“Yeah, see you, Focus!” Fiber said. “Thank you!”

“Yes, thanks, it was nice working with you,” Steel Strings said.

They went on exchanging their farewells, and Sharp Focus left the house.

The band hung around Dainty’s place for a while, and scheduled another rehearsal for Thursday. Dainty felt that they didn’t need such a heavy schedule of rehearsals until the concert, as they only needed to improve the songs from now on. Steel and River agreed.

On Thursday evening, Hard Fiber and Sharp Focus arrived together once again, after the rest of the band was gathered already.

“The photos are ready, guys,” Focus said. He had some rolled up pieces of paper sticking out from his saddlebags, but Dainty had no idea what they were.

“Aw, yeah!” Honey Drop said, jumping out of his stool. “I really wanna see them!”

“Come around guys,” Dainty said, gesturing for everypony to stand around his bed, while Focus’s saddlebag glowed with magic.

“Yeah, so, I didn’t develop all of the photos. I just picked the ones that looked good,” Focus said, producing a quite generous pile of photos, which floated towards Dainty. “I also made some mock ups of posters that I wanna show later.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Dainty said, turning over some of the pictures over the bed.

The first pictures were taken in the rehearsal. There were only two pictures of the whole band, and two close up pictures of each of the members. The pictures looked bright and colourful, and caught the five musicians in very spontaneous, intense moments.

“Wow, those are good!” River Mouth said. “Very professional looking!”

“Well, not that professional, you know?” Focus said, chuckling. “But I did my best, I really did.”

“They look cool,” Steel Strings said. “It’s good stuff.”

“Yeah, I told you he was good at it,” Fiber said.

Dainty flipped over a few more photos, which were from the Saturday session. The five musicians were delighted by how they looked, and kept making comments and praises about them.

“This is amazing!” Dainty said, his eyes full of joy. “We look like a real band, guys!”

“Dainty,” Honey Drop chided, “we are a real band!”

“Yes, I know that, but we actually look like a band who’s in the actual business, you know?” Dainty said. “These could be record covers!”

“I know what you mean, Dainty,” River said. “They look crazy good.”

Sharp Focus just watched silently, letting the band make their comments and choices. They looked through all the pictures, trying to put aside the candidates for the poster. When they finished looking through the pile, they had more than a dozen candidates.

“Oh, by Celestia, how are we gonna decide?” Honey said. “They’re so good!”

“Yes, this is hard,” Steel Strings said. “I wish we could make one poster with each photo.”

“It’s heartbreaking to choose just one, you know?” Dainty said, looking at Focus. “They’re all so beautiful.”

“Well, remember that you can use the other photos in the future,” he replied. “They’re yours to keep.”

“Maybe we could take one photo to keep as a kind of gift?” Honey said. “I wanna frame one of them and put it in my bedroom.”

“Yeah, sure!” Dainty said. “After all, we paid for them.”

“Okay, so which one is gonna be our poster?” River said.

“I like this one,” Honey replied, pointing at one of the photos, in which the clock tower loomed over the background.

“Yeah, just because you’re making this cool pose, huh?” Hard Fiber joked, noticing how Honey stood on his hind legs, leaning on a wall, his forehooves crossed.

“Well, I do look good in it, don’t I?” Honey said, with a sheepish smile.

“I think the ones in the town square are the best,” River Mouth said. “They have a great energy.”

“I really like these two,” Steel said, pointing at two particular pictures, one in the town square, and one in a street, with the town hall in the background. “This one on the hill is nice too.”

“Aw, I just like all of them,” Dainty said, biting his lower lip. “But, yeah, this one does look like a poster.”

And so, they eventually converged on a photo in the town square, in which the group is trotting towards the camera. Dainty noticed how each one had a slightly different attitude; Honey Drop gave an oblique look at the camera, with a hint of a smile, and his wings slightly open; River Mouth looked towards the sky, her head a little tilted; Hard Fiber was smiling, looking at Steel Strings, as if telling him something; Steel looked ahead, as if gazing intently at his destination; and Dainty looked to the side, as if distracted by something or somepony, which he probably was.

“Yeah, it’s this one,” Steel said. “It’s gotta be. This is us.”

“I agree,” Hard Fiber said. “It’s my final pick.”

“So, that’s it, then?” Sharp Focus said. “Nice! So, I wanted to show you my ideas for the posters, to see what you think.”

He pulled out two rolled pieces of paper and lay them flat on the bed. They both had an empty space in the middle, so Focus put the chosen photo on one of them, to give them an idea. The poster on the left had a more traditional layout, with bold lettering, while the one on the right was more loose, with the phrases spread out over the page in creative shapes. They also noticed there were five small squares in each poster, with drawn silhouettes.

“One idea that I had was to use those close up pictures of you and spread them over the page, like this,” Focus said.

“That’s a nice idea,” Dainty said.

“Yeah, I think it’ll look cool!” Honey Drop said. “I like the poster on the right.”

The group was a little more evenly divided on this choice, as Dainty and Fiber preferred the more traditional design, and the other three liked the other one better.

“Well, I think we’re in the minority, Fiber,” Dainty said, moving the photo to the other poster. “We should choose the one on the right.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Fiber said. “They’re both good, anyway.”

“So, that’s it?” Focus said. “That’s your choice?”

“Yep!” Dainty said. “This is it!”

“Okay, then!” Focus replied, taking the two posters and putting them away. “I’ll get it arranged with the printing press, and we should have posters ready next week.”

“That’s perfect, Focus, thanks a lot,” Dainty said. “I suppose you need to take the photos too, right?”

“Oh, no, no. I just need the negatives. You can keep the photos,” Focus said. “Also, if you ever need more prints, you can talk to me and I’ll make more. For a price, of course.”

“Yeah, that’s good to know,” Steel said.

“Also, I meant to ask you something else. If you let me, I wanted to include some of those photos in my portfolio. That will really help me get jobs in the future. Are you okay with it?”

The five members promptly agreed.

“Of course, if that’s gonna help you, go ahead!” Dainty said.

“Yeah, I remember you saying that we artists should help each other, so I helped you out with that, and now you’re helping me back!” He chuckled.

“No doubt about it, friend,” Dainty said.

And so, Focus said he had to go and get some more work done, and the band moved on to the rehearsal proper. After they were done for the day, Honey Drop, River Mouth and Hard Fiber each took a few of the photos with them, including their own close ups.

“I think my parents will love this!” Honey said. “I can’t wait to show them!”

“Yeah, my folks will like it too,” Fiber said. “This is so great. I can’t wait to see the posters.”

“Me too guys,” Dainty replied, grinning. “We’re gonna rock this place, guys. Trust me!”

They all exchanged hoof bumps, and the three ponies left. Dainty sat on the bed, next to Steel, looking at some of the pictures again.

“You look so handsome, you know,” Dainty said, pointing at Steel in one of the photos.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steel replied, chuckling sheepishly. “You and your flattery.”

“Yeah, I know it’s cheesy, but it’s true,” Dainty said. “Like, really. You look so beautiful in these photos, that I… I kinda envy you a little bit!”

Steel grinned at him. “Well, I’ve always admired your good taste.”

They both laughed.

The Saturday of the following week was a special day. Fiber would receive the printed posters from Sharp Focus, and they’d go around Ponyville to affix them. They had received permission from Mayor Mare for the places they could use, with the agreement that they would remove the posters and clean the walls after the concert. This would officially start the promotion for their upcoming concert, and Dainty could barely sleep on Friday night.

Steel arrived early, as he usually did, and River Mouth came soon after. Hard Fiber brought the posters on a cart, and placed one over the bed, so they could examine it. It was glossy, with a soft, but attractive red background, bold lettering, and the photo of the band right in the middle, strong and imposing. Smaller portraits of the band members were laid around it. Dainty was in ecstasy.

“Wow, and Sharp Focus said he wasn’t a professional?” Steel Strings said. “This is pretty amazing, Fiber. Thank you for recommending him!”

“Yeah, I think he took extra care with this,” Fiber said. “I guess it’s important to him.”

“He should be proud,” Dainty said. “Really, I hope he gets lots more jobs from now on. He deserves it.”

“Oh, hey, guys?” Honey said from the door. “The posters are here?”

“Yes!” Dainty replied in a snap, making him a gesture. “Come here to see!”

Honey rushed to the bed, and put his hooves on the sides of his face. “Holy moly, this is amazing! Really, look at this! It’s awesome! And we’re gonna put them all over town, aren’t we?”

“We are, buddy!” Dainty said, grinning. “It’s our time to shine.”

“Well, let’s go and do it, then!” Honey said, unable to stand still. “Let’s get the word out!”

“Calm down, calm down,” River Mouth said, “we have all day.”

The five of them banded off together, going into the designated spots. The posters lay on the cart, together with a can of glue and a few brushes. Honey Drop pleaded to help put the glue on the first one, and, after the job was done, he stepped back and proudly admired their work.

“Yeah, it looks amazing!” Honey said.

“It really looks good,” Fiber said. “Come on, let’s move on.”

The other four went along, while Honey stood back looking at the poster a little more. He noticed a few ponies were paying attention to it, and he rushed after the group when he noticed they were a little far away.

On another block, the group had already put a poster on a wall, and were sticking another one on the opposite side, a little ahead. Again, Honey admired the poster, and noticed two young mares were coming along the road, chatting. Honey noticed that they saw the poster, and kept watching them as they stopped to read the details.

“Cool, huh?” Honey said. The mares turned to look at him, curiously. “It’s gonna be in a few weeks, in Ponyville Theater!”

“I haven’t heard of them,” the teal coloured mare with a light pink mane said. “Are they new?”

The other mare, who had a deep green coat and light brown mane, looked at the poster and back at Honey. “You’re in the band, aren’t you?”

“Yup!” Honey said, proudly. “I’m the drummer. I’m playing with the guys over there.” He pointed at the band, who just finished putting up the other poster. “And, let me tell you, it’s gonna be an awesome show. You should totally see it!”

Honey stood there, chatting with the two mares, while the rest of the group were ready to move on. Fiber looked at Honey and called his name. “Come on, let’s get going!”

“Just gimme a minute, Fiber!” Honey shouted back, and carried on in his conversation.

“Let’s get going,” Steel said, “he’ll reach us shortly.”

The four of them started moving. They were about to turn a corner, and Honey hadn’t joined them yet. Fiber looked behind his back, annoyed. “Honey Drop, you dang brat!”

“Leave him be, Fiber!” Dainty said with a grin. “He’s enjoying himself.”

“Oh, yeah, and we do all the work?” he grumbled. “I’ll go bring him back.”

Hard Fiber marched towards Honey, who was already saying his farewell to the mares and turning around.

“Honey Drop!” Fiber scolded. “Are you gonna come help us or what?”

“I was talking to our fans, you know!” Honey said, defensively. “It’s part of the marketing strategy!”

“Yeah, marketing strategy my flank!” Fiber said, as they went back to the group. “You were chatting up those girls while we were doing all the work.”

“Well, I was doing that too,” Honey replied, a little embarrassed, “but I was telling them to go to our show. They were interested!”

“Interested in us or in you?”

“Uh, both, I hope,” Honey said.

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

The group carried on putting more posters near the town square. They noticed some ponies were starting to take notice, but they didn’t want to stall. They still had more posters to put up. On the way to their next spot, Dainty noticed three ponies were tearing down one of the posters they had put up.

“Oh, sweet Celestia, are you serious?” he said, shaking his head.

The four ponies stared at the scene, their mouths agape.

“I can’t believe that!” Steel Strings said.

“Hey! You there!”

Honey Drop was marching towards them, stuffing his chest. The three ponies turned their faces to look.

“Oh, look at that! It’s the losers from the band!”

“And you’re the losers who don’t even have a band!” Honey Drop shot back.

Dainty was too stunned for a moment to believe his eyes, but he rushed to go after Honey. As he got close, he recognised the two hecklers from their gig and the pub, and noticed that the third pony was the white unicorn who had offered himself to join the band months before.

“You get out of here and leave our posters alone!” Honey Drop went on, as he stood firm in front of the other three.

“We’re not gonna leave you alone,” the unicorn said. “We don’t want your garbage posters for your garbage band littering our town.”

“Oh, yeah?” Honey went on, as the rest of the band stood behind him. “Well, you’re gonna have to live with it.”

“Really? We could go around and tear down all of your posters,” one of the hecklers said. “What are you gonna do about that?”

“Well, I’m sure Mayor Mare will be very interested,” Dainty said, with a smirk. “She gave us the permission to put those up. And since everypony around us heard you say that, if we see any other posters damaged, we’ll know who did it. And, of course, you’d have to pay for the damage, since those posters weren’t cheap. And you’ll probably have to clean up the mess, too. So, do you wanna risk it?”

The three ponies exchanged glances.

“Let’s leave those losers alone,” the unicorn said. “They don’t deserve our time anyway.”

They turned their backs and left, and Honey Drop watched them with a smug grin.

“Yeah, we showed them!” he said, feeling victorious, until he saw Dainty trembling and hyperventilating behind him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you did fine,” Steel said, a hoof on his shoulder.

“H-Honey Drop, don’t do that again, hear me?” Dainty said, in a limp, hoarse voice. “You don’t know what they could’ve done.”

“Oh, sheesh, Dainty! We handled them fine!” Honey said. “After what you said, I’m sure they’ll leave us alone.”

“By the way, is that true?” Hard Fiber said, in a hushed tone, checking to see that the three ponies were far away. “Do you think the mayor would intervene?”

“I don’t know,” Dainty said. “I was bluffing. But I’m betting those idiots don’t know any better, so let’s leave it like that.”

“Yeah, you said it, buddy,” Honey said, taking the fallen poster from the ground. “Do you think we can put this one back up? It’s a bit torn.”

Dainty looked at it with a frown. “Yes, let’s put it back, just to make a point to those assholes. Come on, guys.”

After all the work, the band went to have dinner and celebrate. The mood was good, and the five of them were quite joyful and full of energy. They even cracked occasional jokes at the three ponies who tried to sabotage their effort. They didn’t want to allow the incident to drag their mood down.

At one point, while they were waiting for their orders to arrive, they noticed a teenage colt standing near the table, looking at them, with some expectation in his eyes, as if he was only waiting for a turn to speak.

“Hey? Excuse me?” he said.

The five band members turned to look at him. He had a very light yellow coat and a short, dark blue mane, and stared at them with a timid smile.

“Yes?” Steel Strings said.

“Are you… that band that played in the town square some months ago?” he said.

“Yep, that’s who we are!” Honey Drop proudly said.

“Oh! Nice,” the colt said. “I saw some posters today with you on them. You’re gonna play another concert, are you?”

“Yes, we are, in two weeks,” Steel said.

“That’s cool! I totally wanna watch you,” the colt replied. “You know, I liked the way you played so much… Do you think that, if I… if I took an instrument, I could learn to play music too? Like you do?”

“Well, of course!” Dainty said. “We all started like that, pretty much. We took an instrument and started learning. Maybe find a teacher and get into it!”

“Oh! That’s awesome,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, I, I felt like maybe I was too old to start. I heard that great musicians all started when they were still foals, so maybe I was past my time…”

“Dude, that’s so not true!” Honey objected. “I had started playing drums about a month before I joined the band! And you’re even younger than me, aren’t you? You’re not too old, buddy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think anypony is too old to learn,” Steel said. “As long as we dedicate ourselves, we can do it.”

“Wow, that’s great! Thank you, guys! I can’t wait to watch you play again!” the colt said, noticing the waiter was arriving with the band’s orders. “I-I’ll let you eat now, okay? Bye!”

The band bid their farewell to him, and he returned to his table, where he joined who seemed to be his parents.

Honey raised his eyebrows.”Gotta treat our fans well, ya know!”

The band stood together for a while after they were finished, and then dispersed. Steel followed Dainty to his house, where they had a cup of tea. Steel enjoyed seeing Dainty’s excitement, and he couldn’t stop talking about his ideas and his plans. He sat on his piano bench, while Steel sat on the bed, and they just kept talking about their ideas, almost like back when they were just friends, and their conversations felt like they could last forever.

“So, what are you gonna wear, Dainty?” Steel said, at some point.

Dainty furrowed his brow. “Wear?”

“Yeah. You didn’t think of that?”

“To be honest, I… I never did, really,” Dainty said. “I just… Eh, really, do I need to wear anything? Will anypony even be paying attention to that? I’m a musician, not a model.”

“But it’s not about being a model, sweetheart,” Steel said. “You’ll be up there on the stage, and ponies will be looking at you. It would be nice to enhance your image, even though our goal is to make music. It’s about feeling good.”

“Hm, well, I could do that…” Dainty scratched his mane. “You know, I just never… never paid much attention to that. I just… I just thought I didn’t need to look good, because nopony… well, because nopony wanted to look at me. But, yeah, they will be looking at me, won’t they?”

“They absolutely will,” Steel said. “And, trust me, I will be looking at you too. You know I love to watch you sing.”

“Yeah, but you should be paying attention to the music, you know?” Dainty scolded. “I don’t want you getting distracted and making mistakes!”

“Hey,” Steel objected, folding his forehooves. “I know how to play, you know. Besides, you don’t distract me. You inspire me.”

Dainty smiled. “Aw, my love…”

The lights were dizzying Dainty. There were too many ponies buzzing around backstage, most of them he didn’t know. The band was there with him, and they were talking about something that he couldn’t follow.

He was worried about the songs. He played them out in his head, but that place was too crowded. He heard noise from the audience. He wanted to step onto the stage, but he felt apprehensive. Something felt wrong.

“Do you really know what you’re doing?”

He turned around. “Of course I know, mom,” he said, frowning. “I prepared for this.”

“This place is too big, there are too many ponies out there,” his mother, Spotless Shine, said. “You’re not prepared.”

He looked around, trying to find her among all those ponies walking around.

“Don’t say that,” he heard his father, Final Touch, say. “Don’t discourage him.”

“I’m not discouraging him. I just don’t want him to embarrass himself.”

“I won’t embarrass myself!” Dainty shouted. “I’m ready to do this!”

“That’s what you say, but you don’t really know,” she said.

“He knows what he’s talking about, Spotless,” his father said. “He’s a genius. He can’t fail. He can never fail.”

“I’m not a genius, dad,” Dainty said. “I just make an effort. I worked hard for this.”

“Don’t be modest, son,” Final Touch replied. “You’re better than the others. You have the obligation to succeed.”

“Don’t say that!” Spotless Shine chided. “Can’t you see it makes him nervous? If this show is a failure, it will be your fault, Final.”

“Please, stop arguing!” Dainty cried, still unable to see them. “I just need your support! That’s all I need.”

“You need to concentrate, son,” his mother said.

“I’m trying,” he said, as he suddenly looked around himself, and noticed the backstage was empty. It was time for the show, he assumed. The whole band was around him, and the lights stung on his eyes. He sat at the drum kit, and the audience just wouldn’t stop shouting and making noise.

He looked at the floor. He had forgotten the setlist, apparently.

His bandmates looked at him, waiting for him to do a count in, but he didn’t even know what song it was. In panic, he just did a count in and started to play, hoping for the best. When the band joined in, he noticed they were playing a song that wasn’t in the setlist. He recognised it, it was Lost in Space, but he had never tried to play that song. He didn’t even know if he remembered the words.

He didn’t even know how to play the drums, but there he was, anyway, trying to follow the rest of the band. He was trying his best, but he noticed the music was taking a lot of unusual twists and turns that he couldn’t recognise.

“Stoooooop!”

Dainty felt a chill up his spine. The silence pressed against his eardrums, and the blinding lights pierced his eyes.

“This is wrong! This is all wrong,” Deep Voice growled before him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I-uh, I’m sorry!” Dainty said. “I’m sorry, we tried to—”

“If anyone told you that you could play our songs, they were wrong,” Deep Voice went on, angrily trotting around the stage. “You have no intuition! The only thing that sounds good is the hum from the amplifiers.

“We didn’t rehearse enough, Dainty, I told you,” Steel Strings said.

“If you even rehearse at all,” Deep Voice retorted. “You don’t know what these songs mean! You have no emotion, no intent. You have no right to play these songs.”

“Deep Voice, please, forgive me—”

“And you’re charging for this concert,” Deep Voice said, ignoring him. “You can’t play our songs, and you’re making money off of them!”

“No, we aren’t!” Dainty said, defensively. “They are… The theater is...“

“I don’t know what is going on here,” the theater manager said, in a thunderous voice, “but this kind of music is unacceptable here. Unacceptable. Take this away, now.”

Dainty noticed the three hecklers were dragging the instruments away and throwing them backstage.

“No, don’t do that!” Dainty yelled, trying to run after them, but he couldn’t move. He flailed his hooves around, but some force seemed to keep him in place, like pulling him back by the chest. “Stop! Stop!”

“We told you we didn’t want your garbage music in here!” the white unicorn said right at his face, before turning around to drag one of the cymbal stands away.

“No! Come back!” Dainty screamed. Already in despair for not being able to move, he violently swung a hoof forward to try to grab the unicorn.

Dainty violently swung a hoof forward and hit something.

“Ow!”

He was jolted awake, and noticed he had just punched Steel Strings on the shoulder. They had been lying in his bed, and Steel now put a hoof on his shoulder, pressing his eyelids.

Dainty gasped, terrified. “Steel! I’m… I’m sorry!”

“Ah, what… what happened, sweetheart?” Steel said, gasping for air.

“I was… I was having a dream,” Dainty said, somewhat sadly. “I was… I was in this dream, and I charged a hoof forward to grab somepony, but then… then I did it for real, and punched you… I’m sorry, my love, I swear it was an accident.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, lovely,” Steel said. “I’m okay.”

“Really, I’m sorry,” Dainty said, kissing his wounded shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, really.” They fell silent and got comfortable in bed again. “So, was it a bad dream, baby?”

Dainty sighed. “Well, it was… more weird than bad, really,” he said, “... but, yeah, it was… kinda bad, I guess. It made me… really nervous, and frightened.”

“Yeah, just by the strength of that punch, you must’ve been pretty unsettled,” Steel said.

“Aw, geez, Steel, I’m… Urgh, I can’t believe I did this,” Dainty said, angrily pressing his head against the pillow.

“No, no, I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty,” Steel said, stroking his face. “I’m just sorry that you had such a nasty dream.”

“Aw, well, thanks, my love.”

“Was it about the concert?”

Dainty gave a sad sigh and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Are you nervous about it?”

“Well, you know, I don’t think I am,” he said. “I was actually quite excited. But I… I think this just happens to me. Sometimes, when I’m in a good mood, I have a bad dream, as if my mind is trying to bring me down.”

“Wow, that’s pretty annoying,” Steel said.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Dainty said with a sad smile. “Can’t do much about it, I guess…”

“Well, you can cuddle up here with me,” Steel replied, stroking Dainty’s mane. “I’ll make you feel better. Come on.”

Dainty did so, and took a long, satisfied breath.

“I love you, Dainty.”

He smiled. “I love you too, Steel.”

During Sunday and Monday, Dainty couldn’t stop thinking about that question Steel made. On one hoof, he felt there was something embarrassing in him thinking of his own image, as if putting on an outfit could somehow change who he was, or that the way other ponies visually saw him should have an effect on how he was perceived as an individual. On the other hoof, he felt a strange allure in the idea of looking good on stage; not because of personal vanity, but because it would make the band more interesting to look at. It could be a way to enhance the show.

The problem here is that Dainty didn’t really have anything interesting to wear in his home. The closest thing to an outfit he was used to wearing was his work uniform, and, suffice to say, that’s not quite what he had in mind.

Off the top of his head, he knew of one pony who might be able to help him with this problem; but that was a bit of a stretch, wasn’t it? That was too far out of his own reality.

But he kept his mind fixated on one thought: the band deserved it.

Dainty pushed the door open, his heart thumping with apprehension, embarrassment and, at the same time, excitement.

The bell jingled. Dainty poked his head inside.

“Oh, good afternoon! Welcome to the Carousel Boutique! How may I help you?” Rarity said, turning towards the door. She had been adjusting some dresses that were displayed on mannequins.

“Hello, there,” he said, stepping inside. “Uh, yes, I do think you might be able to help me. You...“

He felt his stomach churning. It felt very silly for him to pretend he was just a regular pony casually checking out her store, when both of them knew that wasn’t the case. “Uh, you remember me, don’t you?” he said, with an uneasy attempt at a smile. “I guess our introduction wasn’t exactly fun, but… I, er…”

“Yes, I do remember you, Mr. Dainty Tunes,” she said with a gentle kind of solemnity. “And indeed, our first meeting may have been far from pleasant, but, all things considered, I’m ready to start again from a clean slate, if you are so willing. What would you say?”

“Well, sure! That would be great!” Dainty replied, with a more spontaneous smile. “Yeah, you know, I’m just… trying to fit in, after all that, and… you know, I’m actually here for business, and because you’re really the one pony who I think could help me.”

“That’s delightful to hear,” she said, “so, tell me, what is your problem?”

“Okay, uh, I’m in… I don’t know if you heard of it, but I’m in a band,” he said. “I’m the lead singer in a band right now.”

“Oh, why, yes! I have heard of it,” Rarity replied. “Pinkie Pie has told me about it. I believe she’s teaching the drummer of your band, is that correct?”

“Exactly! Honey Drop has been taking lessons from her for a while,” Dainty said. “So, yeah, we’re going to do a concert in Ponyville Theater in two weeks, and, well, I’ve been thinking that I could, you know, wear an actual outfit for the show… but I don’t really have anything to wear.”

“An outfit for a concert?” she said, her eyes already gleaming. He could almost see her mind swimming in possibilities. “Why, of course I could help you, Mr. Tunes! Please, follow me. You might be interested in seeing some designs I have right here, in my store!”

She spoke while she approached another room, and her horn started glowing. A mannequin floated into the room, wearing a bright, colourful and very richly designed outfit. The red fabric almost gleamed, and it was encrusted with tiny gems. An exuberant purple cape covered the mannequin’s back.

“This here is a replica of an outfit I, myself, have designed for a very popular singer for a concert in Manehattan,” she said, full of genuine pride in her accomplishment. “I wasn’t there to see it, unfortunately, but I hear it was a tremendous success. He’s very famous in other towns, his stage name is Captain Fantastic. You might have heard of him.”

“You know, actually, I haven’t,” Dainty said, looking to the side. “It’s a little bit funny, but I’m not quite up to speed with popular music from the big cities.”

“Well, you can trust me that, if these are successful in Manehattan, then they’re going to be explosive in Ponyville!” Rarity replied, already bringing in another mannequin. The outfit it wore was less flashy than the first, but the white fabric almost seemed to shine, and it was also filled with adornments.

“This one is similar to one I made for a singer in a band,” she went on. “I admit the name of the band fails me at the moment, but the stallion’s stage name was King Quicksilver. I will never forget him!”

Dainty tried to keep his cool while he talked. “Well, that’s, I’m sure wearing that would make me feel like a millionaire. It’s…”

By now, he couldn’t hide the awkwardness he felt for being there, as he had been scared that he’d end up exactly in the situation he was in right then.

“Seriously, Rarity, those are brilliant,” Dainty said. “It’s just that… for this show, for this band, what I had in mind was… a little bit different, you know, I was thinking of something… a little more discreet.” He sighed, and he noticed she was going to speak, but waited for him to continue. “I hate to do this, because, I mean, you’re an extraordinary artist, but I guess that… what I’m asking is too boring for you.”

She gazed at him in shock, a hoof recoiled against her chest. “Boring? Oh, darling, you have no idea! There can be an extraordinary amount of charm and elegance in even the most modest outfits, and that can be some of the most exciting challenges for even the best designers.”

His eyes lit up a little. “Really? That’s actually quite nice. I mean, music can be like that too, you know? It’s fun to be loud and bombastic and all, but, sometimes, it’s interesting to try to hide beauty in the corners, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, absolutely, my dear!” she said, already bringing in a few outfits, though those weren’t displayed on mannequins. “Now, allow me to attempt something. Let me see…”

Dainty stood there as she examined some articles of clothing, looking back at Dainty from time to time. She muttered to herself as she went, and he was always tempted to ask what she was doing, but decided to let her concentrate.

“Here, darling, put this on, will you?” she said, at last, handing him a shirt. He didn’t pay much attention to it, and just did what she told him. “Also, this… No, no no no, this one!”

And so, she gave him a few more pieces, which he put on. He didn’t have a mirror nearby, and didn’t even think of looking for one, as he was just trying to follow her directions.

“There!” she said. “Come with me, please. Take a look, and tell me what you think.”

Dainty stepped in front of a mirror, and looked at himself. He was shocked. The outfit matched almost exactly the vague mental picture he had made in the days prior, but it worked much better than he could have imagined. He wore a dark blue shirt, with a light brown sleeveless jacket, and black trousers. He couldn’t quite put his hoof on it, but it just looked perfect on him.

“This is… great!” he said, still in disbelief. “It looks wonderful, and… it feels comfortable! I feel really nice!”

“Do you like the colors?” she said. “Would you like to change anything?”

“No, no, I don’t wanna change anything! This is wonderful!” he said. “I mean, I just wanna take this home right away!”

“Well, naturally, I still have to make some adjustments,” she said, examining the outfit closely, making some folds and putting some pins. “It’s a little loose, but I can fix it in a day or two.”

“Oh, yes, I guess there’s that,” Dainty said. “But it can’t be too tight, you know? I.. move around on stage a lot,” he said, making some sudden movements and quick poses and turns, imitating the way he moved when he sang.

“But of course!” she said, with a certain spark. “A showman like yourself must use your body to express yourself! Have no concern, I’ll make the outfit specifically to work on stage. I’ve done this before, and you shall be no exception.”

“Well, if you’re saying so, I do trust you,” he replied.

“So, I presume that’s your final choice, then?” she said. “I refrained from making any comments so I wouldn’t bias your opinion, but you do look exquisite. You are ready to shine, Dainty Tunes!”

He couldn’t help but be flattered. The cynical part of his mind thought that any salespony would say such a thing to seduce their customer, but, coming from Rarity, he couldn’t doubt the sincerity of it.

“Thank you very much, Rarity,” he said. “Yes, this is my final choice.”

He stood there a while longer so she could make some more measurements, and she took the outfit to work on it. She said it should be ready in two days.

After saying his farewell, he left the store feeling an odd kind of confidence, like an unexpected surge of energy had entered his body. He only hoped that the extra expense wouldn’t put much of a burden on his finances, but, even if he had to cut back on a few things, he felt it was worth it.

Back in his home, he sat by the piano, doing a bit of work that was unrelated to the band. He felt he needed a bit of distraction to keep his calm, especially now that he had the added anticipation of picking up his outfit when it was done. His head buzzed, and he needed to simmer down.

He heard a knock on the door. That was a surprise: outside of the band appointments, nopony had come looking for him like that in the past several weeks.

As he opened the door, he saw Steel Strings, standing there, a serene smile on his face.

“Oh, hello, Steel!” Dainty said, a little perplexed.

“Hi, Dainty,” he replied. “May I come in?”

“Y-yes, of course, love!” Dainty said, stepping out of the way. “So, um, what brings you here?”

Steel approached him and looked straight into his eyes. “You, Dainty. You brought me here.”

Dainty’s heart almost skipped a beat. His breath got heavier, and he embraced Steel strongly, stroking his mane.

“Let’s end this ‘twice a week’ nonsense, sweetheart,” Steel said. “Let’s end this tonight.”

“Oh, Steel!”

“I missed you so much, Dainty.”

“Me too, my love!”

Author's Note

This chapter features a set of original song lyrics, written by the author, loosely inspired by the song Sete Cidades, by Legião Urbana. The lyrics were written as a replacement for the original song within the story, and are not a translation of the original lyrics.

Track 8: Theorem

Since the beginning of the day, Dainty couldn’t keep his heart from racing. He had slept alone that night; even though Steel Strings had been spending most of his nights with Dainty, he had said he needed to get things done in the workshop and his house, and wanted to prepare for the show.

So, Dainty had to find things to keep his mind occupied before the concert. He double checked and triple checked everything, especially all the copies of the final setlist he had prepared:

Is It

Almost by Mistake

When the Sun Shines Through...

It’s Too Early

Before Six

I Was a Teenage Werewolf

Factory

Seven Cities

The Vampire Theater

I Know

Pony in the Lions’ Den

Let’s Make a Movie

For a While Now

Chalk

Wind on the Coast

The World’s Been Acting...

Twenty Nine

Theorem

Waiting for Me

Lost Time

His outfit was properly and neatly stored, so it wouldn’t get any wrinkles. He would often listen to the songs from his records, or play them on the piano, just to make sure he still remembered all the words and all the intonations he wanted to do.

Every once in a while, his mind would get caught up in some catastrophic scenario that could prevent the concert from happening; who knows if Honey Drop had some accident on the farm and couldn’t attend? What if the equipment had a complete failure and had become unusable? Anything could happen; in fact, everything could happen. Dainty tried to find solace in the music itself to cool down his head and keep his focus.

As he walked around town for the last few days, he often overheard ponies talking about the show. His bandmates had also seen them commenting. They were trying to promote the concert as much as they could, and even Pinkie Pie had been telling everypony about it—according to herself, during one of Honey’s lessons. All four were very excited and eager, and, if it depended on their attitude alone, nothing could go wrong.

If anything could go wrong, it was Dainty himself.

For the last few days, a thought would sometimes appear in his mind, but he ended up suppressing before it could come to the surface. Now, however, he was caught up in it: he wondered if ponies around time actually knew what this concert was all about.

It wasn’t about the Ponyville Rag: it was about The Town Troop.

It was a homage, a tribute to their work. Those songs were theirs. The Ponyville Rag had been conceived as a vessel to bring back those songs and let them be remembered. The five members of the Rag weren’t the stars of the show, they were just messengers; the songs were the stars.

The way the concert had been promoted, though, might not have made that clear. Judging by the poster, there was a hot new band in town, the Ponyville Rag, and they were five cool dudes with some cool new music to play. Well, the poster did mention in big, bold letters that those were songs by The Town Troop, but did ponies even notice that? Did they care? Would they hail Dainty and his bandmates as celebrities, when that was never the goal? And, if they did, what could Dainty do about it?

These thoughts worried him, and, even though he couldn’t do much about that, he kept getting his brain hammered with the thought that, maybe, Dainty was lifting up his image through somepony else’s work.

Was that the case? He couldn’t answer.

The band had arranged to get to the theater a few hours before the concert to do a soundcheck and get prepared. Dainty got himself dressed, adjusted his mane, and left his house on that balmy afternoon, heading to the theater. He trotted with confidence, but also shook with a bit of nervousness. He caught a few glimpses of curious eyes watching him as he walked, but he tried not to get distracted. This was an important day.

He was the first band member to get there. He met with the manager, while a couple of stage hooves were setting the equipment. They talked about some of the arrangements, cleared a few doubts, and Dainty stood on the stage to assist with the preparations.

A couple of minutes later, he spotted River Mouth arriving, with her bass guitar. She had also dressed herself for the occasion; she looked beautiful and eye-catching, but also discreet, like Dainty.

“Hey, there, Dainty,” she said. “We got here early, huh?”

“Nah, the others are late,” he joked with a smirk. “Lazy bums.”

The two laughed, and started to talk about some arrangements. She put her bass guitar next to the amps on the side she’d be in. They talked a little bit about assorted things, and River, almost by accident, mentioned that there was still no progress in getting the research project on the lake restarted.

“Oh, sheesh, really?” Dainty said. “Nothing?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “It’s a bummer, right?”

“But have you tried talking to somepony about it? Did you try to talk to Princess Twilight?”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that, Dainty, really,” River said, shaking her head. “I don’t think she has any power over matters like these. I mean, imagine if everypony in Ponyville started pestering her with problems that she has nothing to do with?”

“Well, it was just an idea,” Dainty said. “I don’t know if it had any chance to work, but… But, yeah, I understand what you mean. I don’t think I’d have the courage either.”

They moved on to other matters, and, in a few minutes, she spotted Steel Strings arriving. He had a bit of a stunned look on his face.

“Dainty Tunes!” he said, standing at the foot of the stage. “You look gorgeous!”

“Aw, thanks,” he replied, looking at the floor. “Credit goes to Rarity. She did this.”

“She’s amazing, ain’t she?” River said. “Good choice, Dainty.”

“You’re amazing, Dainty!” Steel said, as he climbed the stage. “Honestly, I wasn’t prepared for this.”

“Aw, stop flattering me, love!” Dainty replied, smiling. “You look lovely, too.”

“Yeah, well, I did the best with what I had.” Steel approached Dainty, and almost whispered in his ear. “Tonight you’re mine, you hear me?”

“Steel Strings!” Dainty scolded in a hiss, looking around. “We’re in public.”

“Yeah, I know, sorry,” he replied, awkwardly.

River pretended she was busy with something else, but quietly giggled.

Hard Fiber and Honey Drop arrived together, as they had bumped into each other outside the theater. When they met the band on stage, almost everything was set up. The manager said they were ready for a soundcheck, so the five got ready. The drums were upstage, on a raised platform, so Honey Drop could still be in view. River Mouth and Hard Fiber would be on stage right, while Steel Strings was on the opposite side. The upright piano was also on stage left, a little out of the way of the band, but not too far. There was a microphone stand on center stage, and another one by the piano, so Dainty could still sing on the songs he played. Steel Strings and Hard Fiber also had microphones, as they provided back up vocals in a few songs.

Dainty took some time to locate himself on the stage, and see where his bandmates would be in relation to him. They readied their instruments, and looked at each other.

“So? Let’s do Theorem?” Dainty said.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Fiber replied.

The five were in agreement, so Dainty let the manager know they were about to start. They launched into the song, while the technician at the mixing desk made the adjustments. They also played When the Sun Shines Through, and the technician asked them to play a song that used the piano. So, Steel Strings went over there and they played It’s Too Early.

Dainty was very satisfied with the sound of the band. The energy was good, and the playing was sharp. He was particularly impressed with Honey Drop’s drumming, as his rhythm was tight, and he played some quite sophisticated fills. It was very good drumming.

The technician confirmed that the soundcheck was done, and so they went to their dressing room. Now, they could only wait and be prepared.

They still had about half an hour before the show, and somepony knocked on the door. River Mouth opened it.

“Hellooo, Ponyville Rag!” Pinkie Pie said. “Hello, Honey Drop! How is my bestest student ever doing?”

“Hi, teacher!” Honey said, jumping up from his chair. “Come in, come in! Oh, I’m doing great! This is amazing, and I can’t wait to go on stage and show everypony everything you taught me. I can barely control myself!”

“Oh, I know the feeling!” she said. “So, did you do the exercises I told you? Did you warm up? Did you stretch? You know that’s important!”

“Yes, Pinkie, yes, I was just warming up right now,” he said dutifully. “I take your lessons seriously, you know!”

“I’m delighted that you came to the concert, Pinkie!” Dainty said. “It’s such an honour.”

“And you think I’d miss my student’s debut at the Ponyville Theater? Not in a million years!” she said, turning around to face him. “Or even in a billion years. Does a trillion years exist? If so, then that too. Really, a teacher should always be there to encourage their students and appreciate their effort. And I even brought my friends!”

“Friends?” Dainty said, already a little apprehensive. “Uh, who, exactly?”

“Oh, you know who: Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy…”

Dainty’s jaw was already hanging open just to think that the Elements of Harmony were in that theater, specifically to see them play.

“… and Twilight!”

Dainty almost passed out.

“Wait, Princess Twilight Sparkle is here?” River Mouth said.

“Pinkie, h-how the f—… how in Equestria did you get Princess Twilight Sparkle to be here tonight?” Dainty said, almost in panic.

Pinkie looked at him, furrowing her brow. “I invited her, of course.”

Dainty’s eyes were like glass. “But she’s a princess!! How come she’s got time to watch some rock band?”

“Well, she happened not to have any royal appointments scheduled for tonight, which means that she was free,” Pinkie dutifully explained. “And, she did it by my special request, because I wanted to encourage my best student ever, and, if I’m here doing it, then nothing better to have my friends here with me as well! Because, if it’s six of us, then it’s six times more encouragement! And when you’re six times more encouraged, you can play six times better than usual! And who would not want to play like that, right?”

“Well, yes, it’s a lot of encouragement,” Dainty said, “but, at the same time, it’s a… uh, a lot of responsibility to play for a princess, you know. I mean, does she even like this kind of music?”

“Oh! From what I’ve asked, she’s never heard it!” Pinkie said. “In fact, almost none of the girls know who that Town Troop band was. Only Dash knows them.”

“Well, that’s good,” Dainty said.

“She said they were bad.”

Dainty didn’t know what to say.

“But, she still wanted to do this to help a friend, so maybe she’ll enjoy it! Who knows, right?” Pinkie said. “I mean, you are a great band! I think everypony will like you. And, when I say I think, I mean I hope, because we don’t really know, right? And that’s the exciting part! It could be a massive success, or it could be a complete failure! And we’ll only know after it’s done! This is sure to cause a lot of apprehension! Apprehension and uncertainty! Uncertainty and fear! And we have to channel those emotions into the music! And that will make the music get into everypony’s hearts, and I know that you can do that, and I’m sure that everypony will be impressed! Well, not sure, because I don’t know, but I hope they do! And hope is all we’ve got.”

She looked around, proud of her speech, but the looks in the faces of the band members were fairly uncertain.

“Uh, so,” Dainty said, clearing his throat and trying to force a smile, “that was, um, very nice of you, Pinkie! Like you said, as long as we channel our emotions into the music, we’re gonna be the best we can be. And that’s what matters, right?”

“Well, it also matters whether everypony else will like you or no—”

She noticed Dainty was scowling at her, pointing at Honey Drop with his eyebrows.

Pinkie quickly glanced behind her back. “Yes, absolutely. If you do your best, that’s what truly matters. And I’m sure that you will do your best. And yes, that I know!”

“You sure do!” Honey said. “Ponyville has no idea what’s coming!”

“That’s right,” Dainty said. “Thank you for bringing your friends, Pinkie Pie. We really appreciate that. Now, we need to keep preparing, so we'll talk to you after the show. Is that okay?”

“Of course!” she grinned, turning around to Honey Drop. “Keep doing those exercises, alright? You’ll be great! You’ll all be great! Good luck with your show! Talk to you later! Bye!”

And, so, she disappeared behind the door. The five bandmates exchanged glances and took heavy breaths.

“Yeah, I gotta channel those emotions,” Dainty said, more to himself, and sat on his chair.

Time wore on, and they could hear louder and louder noises from the audience outside. They had no idea how full the audience was, but the noise was considerable. They kept talking, trying to keep themselves relaxed.

The manager opened the door and poked his head inside. “Five minutes, everypony!”

Dainty, by sheer instinct, glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Oh, sweet Celestia,” Dainty said.

The band waited just to the side of the stage, while the manager walked to the microphone in the center.

“Good evening, everypony!”

As the voice echoed around the hall, the noise from the audience died down. Dainty felt like his heart could thump right out of his chest.

“The Ponyville Theater is proud to welcome, this evening, a brand new musical act.” the manager went on. “Formed right here, in Ponyville, this band got together to play the songs of a band called The Town Troop. So now, without further ado, please welcome The Ponyville Rag!”

The audience applauded, and Dainty pressed his eyelids. There was no turning back now.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Steel whispered.

Dainty took a deep breath and marched into the stage.

Honey Drop walked in holding his drumsticks in his mouth, with a wide grin. He could hear Pinkie Pie cheering loudly from her seat. River Mouth, Hard Fiber and Steel Strings went to their positions and grabbed their instruments. Behind them, Dainty Tunes walked in, and headed straight to the mic stand.

He turned to face the crowd, and the lights almost blinded him. The audience was a mass of indistinct heads, all eyes fixed on the stage. The place didn’t look completely packed, but it was quite full.

“Hello,” he said, and heard his own voice reverberating off the walls. “We’re the Ponyville Rag. Hit it, Honey Drop!”

He clicked his drumsticks three times, and sharply hit the snare drum. And so, they were off. The show had begun, and the music completely took over Dainty’s body. He rocked himself from side to side to the beat, and grabbed the mic stand, as if dancing with it. He put his mouth up to the microphone and the melody just came out.

Dainty faced the crowd, but he didn’t see anypony. He just felt the music. After he sang his verse, he did try to pay attention to the faces in the crowd, and saw some heads bobbing up and down to the beat.

The music was loud and crisp, and it cut through the air like a blade. Dainty almost couldn’t recognise his own voice; it sounded bigger than himself. The whole sound was unbelievable, and he tried just to concentrate on the music, because, if he stopped to think, he felt he wouldn’t believe that they were the ones making that sound.

After his long note at the end of the chorus, Dainty turned around to look at the band. All the members were fully into the music, rocking their bodies and clearly enjoying themselves. Honey Drop smiled from ear to ear, and he moved around like he was dancing. Steel Strings couldn’t stop looking at Dainty.

On his cue, Dainty turned around to sing the next verse, and he had the impression the audience was warming up to the music. In the distance, he could spot some ponies who were really grooving along and waving their hooves in the air. The words came out crisp and clear out of Dainty’s wide open throat, and he started to play around the stage, making gestures, pointing at the crowd, raising his hoof towards the sky, as if daring the world not to pay attention.

Towards the end of the song, Steel Strings sang the back up vocals, harmonising with Dainty, and the song just seemed to erupt. Just at its peak, it ended, and the final chord rang through the air, until it was taken over by the applause.

“Thank you!” Dainty said, and turned to look at the band. They were electrified.

They exchanged a brief signal, and Steel Strings played the first chords to Almost by Mistake. As Honey Drop joined in with the rhythm, Dainty felt like he could just keep listening to that sound. The band was magical. However, he had words to sing, so he focused on the microphone and sang, as if talking to the audience.

The lyrics just went on and on, and Dainty sang them as if they were part of him. Hard Fiber played his arpeggios with added gusto, as he saw the audience paying attention. River Mouth grooved along, bobbing her head along and feeling the beat in every muscle, sometimes exchanging looks with Honey Drop, as if physically locking with him. Steel Strings played with his heart on his sleeve, feeling each strum, each vibrating note. Honey Drop played his drums as if he wanted to shake the very walls of the building.

As Dainty finished singing, he turned around and started to shake his body and interact with the band, dancing with them and making gestures, as if conducting them. They brought the song gently to its end, and Dainty stood there, panting, before the applause erupted. He heard some cheers and whistles from the crowd, and casually trotted back to the mic.

“Thank you, everypony!” he said, waiting for the applause to die down a little. “As you heard before, we’re playing music by a band called The Town Troop. They were formed quite a long time ago, and wrote all these songs you’re gonna hear tonight. We formed this band to honour their memory, and we hope you’ll enjoy it. The first song is called Is It, which is from their first album, and this last one was Almost by Mistake. This next song is about carrying on and moving forward, and being brave when times are hard.” He gave a wry smile. “At least I think that’s what it’s about.”

He heard some chuckles from the audience, and felt relieved that the quip seemed to work.

“Take it away, Steel!”

Steel Strings played the first chords to When the Sun Shines Through the Window of Your Room, and the magic just began again. The song was slower and gentler than the previous ones, but it still sparkled with energy, and, unless Dainty was terribly mistaken, the audience was getting more and more into it.

For the next song, It’s Too Early, Steel Strings dropped the guitar and went to the piano, and the pulsating, solid rhythm sounded so much more powerful in that huge room, and it felt like the audience was truly entranced by it. After his vocals were over, Dainty invited the audience to clap their hooves to the beat, and went on frolicking around the stage. He joined Steel Strings on the piano for a moment, and kept gesturing to the band to keep the song going for longer than they used to, as the audience still seemed to be enjoying it.

As he finally conducted the band to end the song, the applause filled the room. Dainty and Steel exchanged a loving glance, before Steel went back to his guitar.

“Steel Strings on the piano, everyone!” he said, and heard the applause swell again while he sat before the piano for the next few songs.

Staying on the piano was convenient for Dainty to take a little rest, as his moving around the stage was far more intense than he had anticipated. They played two more songs, and Dainty prepared for the song Factory, when something struck his mind.

He leaned towards the band. “Hey, River Mouth!” he yelled away from the mic. “What’s the name of that lake you were working on?”

She looked at him, not without an expression of perplexity. “Uh, it’s Lake Tranquility, Dainty. Why?”

“Leave it to me,” Dainty said.

He started to improvise a few chords on the piano, and started to speak. “You know, there are a few things going in my mind lately,” he said over his improvisations. “This next song we’re gonna play, it talks about… about how we do things that can change the environment, the world we live in, sometimes for the better, but sometimes for the worse.”

The chords and melodies he played seemed to echo the intention of his words. The band watched him in silence, and Hard Fiber took the chance to tune his guitar.

“And there are some ponies out there who are doing a huge effort to preserve the beauty of our world, and we have such a pony right here, on stage. Her name is River Mouth, and she’s our bassist, over there.”

River gave a sheepish wave, in response to the applause.

“She had been working for months in the preservation of a beautiful, beautiful place called Lake Tranquility. Lately, this place became threatened by a devastating plague, which might destroy its fauna and flora. Unfortunately, the project lost its funding, and River Mouth and her colleagues were unable to finish their work! Can you believe that?” he said, turning his head to the audience. “Are there really so many things much more important to put our money on than preserving our world? And now, if this project can’t find any funding, the beauty of Lake Tranquility may be lost forever.”

He played a few dramatic chords, before returning to something more quiet. “So, to those ponies out there who have the money, but don’t care about the nature of Equestria, we’d like to dedicate this song. To the ponies that put their greed above our future, we sing this song. It’s called Factory.”

Dainty made a gesture to Hard Fiber to start the opening riff, and the band gradually joined. River Mouth, encouraged by the speech, played her bass with force, almost anger, as the song truly boiled around the room. Dainty sang his guts out, and Honey Drop was a lot heavier on the cymbals and the toms than he usually did in rehearsals. By the time the song ended, the band was actually a little tired physically, but also satisfied.

Dainty got up from his piano and took the microphone at the center again, and the show rolled along. He kept doing bits of banter in between the songs, often reminding the audience of the importance of The Town Troop and its members. He noticed the band members sometimes did bits of improvisation that they didn’t often do. Hard Fiber’s guitar lines were often more colourful than usual, and Honey Drop’s drum fills sometimes shocked Dainty in their complexity.

When he realised, the band was reaching the final four songs of the set. In his mind, it felt like only about fifteen minutes had gone by. Time had flown before his eyes.

He went to the piano, for Twenty Nine, and started improvising again.

“Before the next song, I wanted to tell you a story,” he said. “It’s a story about a pony, who, by the power of coincidence, came across a band. A band he had never heard of before. He had to go all the way to Manehattan to listen to them, to find their records. And, once he found the records, and put them to play, he was… entranced. Hypnotised. By the power of those sounds, those melodies, those words, those rhythms, his world… had changed.”

He glanced at the audience, to make sure they were following him.

“The band was a part of his life. But just listening… wasn’t enough. He had to do more than that. He had to… start a band.” He played a little flourish on the piano. “I guess you can tell by now that the pony is me. And, sometimes I think, you could come up to me and ask, why start a band? What reason do you have to do all this, go to this length, just because of some band? And the answer is… that I don’t really need a reason. The music just moves me to do this. Music has power over me, and… and I don’t know what I could do without it. Music is an extension of me, it’s my reason for being in this world.”

He played a few more chords, and Steel Strings noticed he was slowly preparing the next song.

“The pony who introduced The Town Troop to me is Mr. Steel Strings, right here,” he said, pointing to him. Steel briefly bowed while the audience applauded. “And, when I was in Manehattan, the first song from the first record that I found was exactly this song. It’s a very special song to me, and it’s called Twenty Nine.”

Dainty held on to a dominant chord, and signalled Honey to do the count in, and the chord led straight into the song itself. He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he heard Honey play the rhythm perfectly, a rhythm that had given him so much trouble a while back. For an instant, he was transported back to that hotel room, where he sat in front of the record player, and the sound of that song blew his mind. And now, he was on that stage, and the music was happening around him.

He opened his mouth and sang. His voice wavered. He was almost moved to tears. He took a deep breath and focused himself on the second line, and he went all the way to the end. The song changed key, Honey did his drum roll, and the sound blasted off into the lightning fast ending. The band gave everything they had, and the music was unstoppable. Dainty improvised some vocalisations, and the music kept going and going, until Dainty felt it was enough and gestured for them to wrap it up with a final, rolling chord.

He went back to the center mic for the song Theorem, and he definitely could see the ponies moving in their seats, rocking their bodies and bobbing their heads. They were fully enjoying it, and Dainty actually felt a little sad that they were so close to the end. In the next song, Waiting for Me, Dainty actually kept hoping that the instrumental ending would never end. He didn’t want that energy to fade away.

As the applause started to quiet down, he approached the mic again. “And so, this is our final song. This is also a special song, because it is how I got to know the band in the first place, so it will always occupy a special place in my heart. I’d like to thank each and every one of you for coming here tonight, the Ponyville Theater management and staff for making all of this possible, Sharp Focus for taking our pictures and making our posters, and, of course, to Shimmering Chord, Rocky Rumble, Cymbal Crash and Deep Voice, who wrote all these beautiful songs you heard tonight. This one’s called Lost Time.”

Hard Fiber played the initial arpeggios, and the band launched into their final song. Dainty sang his heart out, and he couldn’t help but remember all their rehearsals, all the work they put into the music, all the troubles they went through to make it possible. He put it all into the song, and, by the time the final note rang out, he was panting.

The applause filled the room. Dainty’s heart skipped a beat.

The band watched as the ponies before them cheered, waved handkerchiefs and whistled. Dainty smiled from ear to ear, and called the band to stand next to him.

“Steel Strings on acoustic guitar! Hard Fiber on electric guitar! River Mouth on bass guitar! Honey Drop on drums! And me, Dainty Tunes, on vocals and piano! We are the Ponyville Rag, thank you very much!”

They bowed as the applause swelled. Dainty felt like he could stand there forever, but, eventually, the band exited the stage, and stood to the side as the applause roared on.

“Guys, this was incredible!” Honey Drop said, almost jumping up. “Just listen to them!”

“Actually, I think they’re asking for an encore,” River Mouth said, paying attention to the sounds.

Hard Fiber’s eyes went wide. “Oh, dang! We didn’t prepare an encore, did we?”

Dainty made an embarrassed face. “I… completely forgot about that.”

“Well, we can’t leave them waiting, guys,” Steel Strings said. “Maybe we’ll just repeat one of the songs.”

“Hold on,” Dainty said, his mind struck by an idea. “Uh, are you okay with me going there and doing a song on my own? I know we hadn’t agreed on this before, but I think it will solve the problem.”

The other four exchanged glances, and turned to give an approving look to Dainty.

“Sure, go ahead,” River said.

“Okay!” he replied, and trotted back to the stage.

He walked towards the piano, as the applause swelled. Just as he sat, the clapping started to cease, and he started playing some notes, apparently improvised. Gradually, it turned into an actual song. Steel Strings recognised it: it was For Now, and he knew Dainty loved the song. He just played the harmony for a while, and, when he opened his mouth to sing, his voice was tender, sweet, gentle. Steel couldn’t hold back the tears. River Mouth patted his shoulder, with a smile.

Dainty led the song towards a warm, heartfelt ending, and let the final chord ring out peacefully. The audience applauded again, and he got up from his bench, gesturing for the band to join him on stage.

They stood before the audience again and bowed.

“I think they want another one, Dainty,” River Mouth said.

“Guys, why don't we play the Ponyville Rag song we made up here during my audition?” Honey Drop said.

Dainty frowned. “Really? That was just a silly thing we improvised, Honey, it’s not a real song.”

“No, let’s do it!” Hard Fiber said. “It will be fun!”

“Well, I’m gonna side with them, Dainty,” Steel said, mischievously. “We’re the majority.”

Dainty smirked at him. “Okay, okay, let’s do it.”

They quickly rushed back to their instruments, and Dainty sat before the piano. They made some arrangements, and Dainty asked River to start with the bass line. Honey Drop joined on the hi hat, as he had originally done.

“You know,” Dainty said on the mic, “our drummer Honey Drop joined the band right here, on this very stage. He attended our audition, and, since we had time, we started to play some stuff, just… improvising a little beat. And it went just like that.”

Steel Strings played his guitar chords, and Honey started playing the snare drum as well.

“And as we kept going, our improvisation started to turn into a little song, if you could believe it.”

Hard Fiber started doing his guitar licks, and Dainty joined on the piano. Honey Drop then started to play the full beat, and Dainty smiled to himself, wondering what he would sing.

“And then, when the song was going like this, I just started to sing some stuff that came to my head. Sort of like this:”

We are singing this little song
Just me and my band
Yes,we’re singing this little song
Just-a me and my band!

Honey Drop smiled as he played, and kept glancing at his bandmates, noticing how much they were enjoying it.

And we’re here in Ponyville Theater
We did a show tonight!
And we have this wonderful audience
We all love you, alright!

The audience cheered a little, and Dainty chuckled.

“You know I gotta stroke the ego of our fans a little, you know?” he quipped.

And we’ve played some songs tonight
For all you ponies to see
And we hope we can do this again
This is the place to be!

Dainty made a gesture for the band to increase the intensity.

And we thank you for this wonderful time
And I don’t mean to brag, but
Look at us, listen to us,
We’re the Ponyville Rag!

As Dainty started to repeat the final lines, the band joined him on their microphones, and the chant slowly grew.

“Sing along, everypony!” Dainty said, and heard as some ponies in the audience responded.

He took his hooves off the piano and started to clap them, encouraging the audience to clap along and sing along. After just a few repeats, most of the audience was singing:

Look at us, listen to us,
We’re the Ponyville Rag!

“You’re all the Ponyville Rag! Come on!”

Dainty returned to the keyboard, and started to exchange some improvised lines with Hard Fiber, who walked next to the piano while the audience kept chanting and clapping. Honey Drop had no microphone for him, but he chanted along anyway.

The music went on, until Dainty finally announced “one more time!” The audience chanted the line, and Dainty raised his hoof for the band to stop:

We’re the Ponyville Rag!

Before Dainty could signal the final chord, Honey Drop played a long, complicated drum fill, and then held his drumsticks above his head. They crashed into the final chord, letting it roll on and on, as the audience cheered. Dainty played a wild glissando on the piano, and the music was over.

The band went back to the edge of the stage, where they received their applause and bowed. As they left the stage, they noticed the audience was satisfied, and started to get off their seats. The show was over, and Dainty’s whole body seemed taken over by electricity.

They hung around backstage, as the manager approached to congratulate them.

“Wonderful job, ponies!” he said, with enthusiasm. “Wonderful! The audience loved it! Congratulations, it was a splendid show.”

“We sure loved doing it too!” Honey Drop said, barely able to contain his excitement. “It was awesome.”

“Yes, it was. Thank you very kindly for giving us this opportunity,” Dainty said.

“It was an honour! We should do this again, in fact! We can arrange some further dates later on, if you wish. But now, I’ll let the other ponies come and greet you.”

“Oh, nice!” Steel said. “I think my parents might wanna say hi to me.”

The manager turned away, and, indeed, Steel Strings saw his parents approaching.

“Hi, mom! Dad!” he said, with a burst of joy Dainty had never seen from him. “I’m glad you came!”

“Oh, of course we came!” his mother said. She had a light brown coat and a dark, short mane. His father had a graying, slightly curly mane and a light purple coat. “We wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

“That was very good, son,” the father said. “We’re proud of you.”

“Aw, thanks, you’re always so kind,” Steel said, turning around to the band. “Here, let me introduce you to the others! This is Dainty Tunes, the pony who got all of us together.”

“Good evening to you,” Dainty said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you two!”

“It’s a pleasure for us too, Mr. Tunes,” the mother said.

Steel went on introducing the others, and Dainty spotted Honey Drop’s parents arriving.

“Mom! Dad! Come here!” Honey said, after he had greeted Steel’s parents. “Thanks for coming here! I’m super happy!”

“We noticed, son,” his father said. “You were very good.”

“Yes, maybe the music was too loud, but you did very fine, Honey Drop,” the mother said.

“Mom, dad, thank you so much for believing in me. This has been the best day of my life, and I’m thankful that you let this happen!”

“That’s nice to hear, son,” the father said. “You proved that you can keep up with your responsibilities while still being a musician. We fully approve if you want to carry on with this.”

“Oh, of course I want to!” Honey replied eagerly. “I mean, I already wanna do this again!”

Dainty smiled to himself as he heard the conversation, and then he noticed Hard Fiber’s family coming up.

“Mom! Dad! Macramé!” Fiber celebrated. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I’m so happy for you, son!” his mother said, quite moved. “It was beautiful. You were wonderful.”

“Aw, thanks, mom,” he said, sheepishly. “What about you, buddy?” he said, lowering his head to meet his brother’s eyes. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I’ve never seen him so calm, son,” his father said. “He couldn’t take his eyes off the stage. I think he has never been this happy.”

Dainty noticed Fiber was touched by this, and gave a heartfelt smile.

“I’m glad you were here to see me, you hear, brother?” Fiber said, patting him gently on the head. “I love you, buddy.”

Dainty turned to the side and noticed Sharp Focus walking towards them.

“Hey, folks, great show!” he said, with his slightly timid smile. “It was pretty amazing.”

“It’s cool to see you here, Focus!” Hard Fiber said. “Thanks for coming!”

“Ah, as if I’d miss this!” Focus replied.

“But it’s really nice to see you here,” Steel said. “We’re also thankful for the work you did for us. You sure played a part in the theater being so full tonight.”

“I guess that’s true,” he replied. “I’m proud of my work, but I’m also proud of you. I guess we make a pretty good team!” He giggled.

“We do, Focus, we do,” Fiber said.

Focus, then, approached Dainty and Steel. “By the way, there’s something I meant to do,” he said, while something that had been hovering behind him floated towards Dainty. “This is a gift to you. I took this on that Saturday, without you noticing, and I think it looks quite beautiful.”

Dainty held in his hoof a photo holder, with a photograph of himself and Steel, their faces gently touching. Steel’s heart almost melted.

“This is lovely, Focus! I love it,” Steel said.

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” Dainty said, quite moved. “Thank you for the gift, it’s very kind of you.”

“It’s nothing, guys,” he said, giggling. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Can you put it away with your stuff in the dressing room, my love?” Dainty said.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Steel replied, trotting off with the photo holder in his teeth.

Sharp Focus remained around there, and Dainty noticed River Mouth chatting to a friend, who he guessed was the mare who worked in the theater. Then, two mares eagerly rushed towards Honey Drop to greet them—he remembered they were the mares he had met while putting up the posters. Then, in the distance, he spotted his workmates waving.

“Iron Bolt! Jack Hammer! You came!” he yelled, cheerfully.

“Of course, pal!” Jack Hammer said, walking close. “We wouldn’t miss your grand premiere, would we?”

“Gee, thanks, guys! I hope you had fun,” Dainty replied.

“We did, buddy,” Iron Bolt said, “and we gotta celebrate this sometime in the Bamboo Pub. What do you think?”

“Definitely!” Dainty replied, but then paused. “Well, if they want me there, that is.”

“Oh, they’ll have to,” Iron replied. “You’re a celebrity now.”

Dainty gave a mischievous smile. “Well, of course. Again, thanks for coming guys.”

“No problem!” Jack Hammer said, turning around to leave, and almost bumped into a pink pony who bounced her way backstage.

“Ooh, sorry, sorry!” she said, as her eyes darted towards the band. “Honey Drop! You were amaziiing!”

Honey looked at her. “Pinkie Pie! Thank you!”

“No, seriously, guys, it was totally amazing,” she said, with her apparently endless breath, “and everypony loved it, just like I said they would! Remember? Well, I said I hoped they’d love it, and they did! They were clapping and cheering and singing along! And it’s all because you were super incredible and your playing was even more incredible! I’m so proud of you, Honey Drop!”

Dainty almost felt his heart stop as he saw the other Elements of Harmony approaching them. Princess Twilight was right in the center, with Spike just a little behind. Pinkie made a little pause, and glanced to the side.

“Oh, and my friends are here too! They came to say hello!”

The band, taken aback, took a moment before they bowed.

“Princess Twilight Sparkle!” Dainty said, almost disbelieving his own words. “It’s… It’s such an honour to have Your Highness here tonight! I… I honestly… have no idea that you cared about watching… some rock band, you know…”

“Well, of course I care!” she replied, with a serenity that almost made him even more nervous. “You’re a new music act from our own Ponyville, having your debut in the Theatre, and it’s important for a princess to encourage the arts and culture from the townsfolk like you. Trust me, it was a pleasure for me.”

“It sure was a mighty fine show,” Applejack said, “even if the music ain’t really mah style, but it was quite a bop. Even mah employee over there seem’d ta like it.”

Dainty noticed Meteorite Shower waving and grinning in the distance. “You guys were great!” she yelled.

“It was a marvellous night, darlings!” Rarity proclaimed. “You were born for the stage! You had our eyes and ears from the first until the very last note.”

“Yes!” Fluttershy complemented. “You sounded beautiful.”

“You could have chosen a better band to cover, though!” Rainbow Dash said.

Dainty snickered.

“Rainbow Dash!” the other ponies scolded in unison.

“What? They were still good!” she defended herself.

“It’s okay, Dash, don’t worry, you don’t have to like the Town Troop,” Dainty said, gently. “I’m thankful that you spared your time to come and see us. It’s a… huge honour.”

“Eh, it was nothing,” Spike said casually. “You were cool!”

“Well, I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting to have an actual princess on our first show,” Honey said. “It’s awesome!”

“Yes, we’re delighted,” Steel Strings said. “I can barely believe it.”

“Also, before we leave, I’d like to have a word with you, River Mouth,” Twilight said, “if you have the time.”

River looked at her blankly for a moment. “Me?”

“Yes,” Twilight said, taking a step towards her, while the others gave her space. “I heard what Dainty Tunes said about your work on the lake, and I just wanted to say that you have my full support in securing the funding.”

River Mouth trembled. “S-seriously?”

“Of course, I can’t give you any guarantees, but the least I can do is use my influence to get the interest from the ponies who have wealth. After all, this is a problem that affects everypony, and we should do our best to take care of Equestria.”

“Oh… oh, dear, thank you, Princess Twilight!” she said, taking a bow. “Thank you, Your Highness! This means the world to me!”

Dainty was overhearing the conversation, and couldn’t help but feel a tinge of pride for having made that happen.

“Oh, I think those stallions over there want to talk to you!” Pinkie Pie said, “maybe? I think so!”

Dainty casually turned around, and spotted three ponies standing a few steps away.

His legs almost went limp.

The rest of the band also turned to look, and, for a moment, they weren’t sure what was going on. Honey Drop thought he recognised those faces, but he couldn’t be right. It made no sense.

For Dainty, however, it was clear as water.

“So, nice show you put on tonight,” Shimmering Chord said.

As Dainty gasped for air, Hard Fiber was the first one who dared to speak. “Are you… The Town Troop? Or part of it, at least?”

“As far as I can tell, yes,” Cymbal Crash said, with a casual smile.

“But how did you even come here?” Dainty said, almost exasperated. “I mean, on such a short notice? How did… How?”

“Well, word gets around, you know,” Shimmering Chord replied. “Since you did that gig months ago, the news just reached somepony over in Manehattan, and it eventually reached me. And, so, I reached out to the other guys. And here we are.”

“We wouldn’t wanna miss out on seeing our songs getting played live,” Rocky Rumble said, “after all this time.”

“And it was impressive to hear,” Cymbal Crash said. “You played the songs almost exactly like we used to play them. You did your homework.”

“Well, we rehearsed our flanks off!” Honey Drop said. “It had to sound good, right?”

“I have to say, Dainty Tunes,” Shimmering Chord said, “back when you met me, and asked whether you could play our songs, I figured you’d find maybe one or two other ponies to join you, and learn about half a dozen songs, just for fun. I never expected you’d put on an actual concert, with a full band. You really went all the way, the five of you. You have my congratulations.”

“I need to say this,” Dainty said, with urgency, “this show was all about you. This was done in your homage, you and Deep Voice, wherever he is right now. This would’ve never happened, I would… I would’ve never done this… I wouldn’t have a band, these guys, if it weren’t for you. Thank you. Thank you for your songs, thank you for trusting me with this… I’m… I’m endlessly thankful.”

Steel Strings put a hoof on his shoulder. “I say the same. Thank you, and Deep Voice, for everything.”

“Your songs are awesome!” Honey Drop said. “You are awesome!”

“Yes, I’m happy I joined this band,” Hard Fiber said, “and it’s all thanks to you.”

“Same thing,” River Mouth said. “You made our lives better.”

“That’s what music is all about, isn’t it?” Cymbal Crash said. “That’s why we did it.”

“You do plan on going on with the band, right?” Rocky Rumble said. “This wasn’t just a one off thing, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t!” Dainty said. “We wanna go on!”

“Yes, please do,” Shimmering Chord said. “And keep your ears perked up. You never know, someday, maybe, you’ll get an invitation to play somewhere in Manehattan… Not saying it will happen, but it might.”

Dainty’s eyes went wide. He was careful enough to not cling too hard to fleeting hopes, but that was still a surprising thing to hear. “Well, that would be amazing!”

“It sure would!” Cymbal Crash said, just before the three nodded and left.

Almost breathless, Dainty turned around to his bandmates.

“Well, after that, we’ll just have to go out and celebrate, right?” Honey Drop said.

Dainty Tunes chuckled, feeling glad that somepony lightened the mood, otherwise he’d probably burst into tears.

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s bring our instruments to my house and do something!”

Honey Drop casually glanced at the two mares, who stood by his side. “Can they come along?”

Dainty gave him a savvy smile. “Of course they can.”

Coda: For Now

It was cold. Winter had arrived, and Dainty moved his hooves to warm himself up.

“Nervous, sweetheart?” Steel Strings said.

“Well, a little,” Dainty said, looking to both sides of the train track.

The Ponyville Rag waited in Ponyville station, their instruments and luggage in carts. Honey Drop’s parents, as well as Steel’s parents and Hard Fiber’s mother were there to say their farewells. Honey Drop was also accompanied by the mare with the teal coat, who was now his marefriend.

“I so wish you could come with us!” Honey said to his parents. “Imagine us trotting around Manehattan, getting to know all those landmarks and those places? It would be so cool.”

“Yes, don’t worry, mom, I’ll take care,” Fiber said to his mother. “I think we’ll be together most of the time, anyway, so there’ll be no danger.”

River Mouth took a satisfied breath. In the end, it was quite a small miracle that they all managed to make this trip. Danty had to arrange it with his employer, and River had to talk with the professor in charge of the research project, which had been restarted a little more than a month before. Everything was working out.

“It’s crazy to think,” Dainty said, “we started so little time ago, and now… look at us.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steel said. “It’s amazing. And it’s gonna keep getting better, Dainty, trust me.”

“As long as you’re with me, I know it will, my love.”

They smiled at each other, and Dainty had the impression of hearing the train in the distance. The ponies on the platform started to get up. Honey Drop, Hard Fiber and Steel Strings hugged their parents and said their goodbyes.

Dainty’s heart pumped a little harder as the train screeched to a halt before them.

In memoriam Renato Rocha and Renato Russo

Force always

Author's Note

All songs mentioned in this story are based on real songs by the Brazilian rock band Legião Urbana, to whom this story is dedicated. The songs from the setlist in chapter 8 refer to these songs:

Is It - Será

Almost by Mistake - Quase Sem Querer

When the Sun Shines Through... - Quando o Sol Bater na Janela do Seu Quarto

It's Too Early - Ainda É Cedo

Before Six - Antes das Seis

I Was a Teenage Werewolf - Eu Era um Lobisomem Juvenil

Factory - Fábrica

Seven Cities - Sete Cidades

The Vampire Theater - O Teatro dos Vampiros

I Know - Eu Sei

Pony in the Lion's Den - Daniel na Cova dos Leões

Let's Make a Movie - Vamos Fazer um Filme

For a While Now - Há Tempos

Chalk - Giz

Wind on the Coast - Vento no Litoral

The World's Been Acting... - O Mundo Anda Tão Complicado

Twenty Nine - Vinte e Nove

Theorem - Teorema

Waiting for Me - Esperando por Mim

Lost Time - Tempo Perdido

For Now - Por Enquanto (encore)

The songs used as chapter titles are as follows:

L'Avventura - ditto

After the Beginning - Depois do Começo

The Storm - A Tempestade

A Perfect Day - Um Dia Perfeito

Metal Against the Clouds - Metal Contra as Nuvens

Sacred Heart - Sagrado Coração

Thanks to my friends from the SFFC for reading the story just after it was finished, and serving as beta readers and offering input. Special thanks to Meteorite Shower, for allowing me to use her character and being so supportive.

Finally, thank you for reading!