Silly Assumptions
Ponies make such silly assumptions! Vinyl Scratch thought as she exited the shower, fresh-scented water still dripping from her mane. Most ponies assumed that she lived a hectic 15.00-04.00 lifestyle, fueled by salted energy drinks and the dark monotone pounding of the latest dubstep track. They didn't realize she also had mornings like these, bright like the tiles of her bathroom and fresh like her pine-scented shampoo. A sharp pain is pulsating trough my hind legs.
From the kitchen, her tea kettle greeted her with its high pitched whistle and Vinyl eagerly rushed towards it to prepare her breakfast. Again, she couldn't help but be reminded of some ponies incorrect assumptions. True, DJing didn't pay much, but that didn't mean she had a trashy apartment or lived in a flophouse somewhere. I empty the last crystalline chunks into a spoon and let it cook over a flame.
Thanks to a local pony called Pia, her admittedly small apartment could be outfitted with cheap furniture that nonetheless gave off a clean modernistic look. And if the apartment had one saving grace, it was the lovely windows that let Celestia’s morning sun into the apartment, washing away the last remnants of sleep from the young DJ's mind.
I reach for the needle, but I fumble. I curse my lapse of concentration.
The tea gave off an inviting bergamot scent, but after a few careful sips, she concluded that the drink was still a bit too hot. While waiting for it to cool down, she picked up the newspaper and casually browsed trough it. Apparently, the singer Wolfsbane had been found in a hotel room after drinking himself to death. Vinyl Scratch had barely heard of him, but couldn't help but feel a slight tinge of sympathy.
Calm down, Vinyl, Calm down, soon it will get better.
She ignored a boring decree by princess Celestia of no consequence to her and skimmed trough the politics and economics pages. They where all filled with articles detailing how bad the current economy was and how different factions blamed each other for it. Vinyl sighed, she already knew the economy was bad and didn’t care about who had caused it. Still, being reminded of all the bad news disheartened her and she flipped to the horoscopes, hoping to catch some good news there at least. I have calmed down, I reach for the needle again, but I miss the vein.
Cancer:
Your social energy demands attention -- so get out there and meet up with ponies! You need to make sure that your network keeps growing, and now is the time to add new connections.
Lucky number 108, Lucky color magenta.
Damnit, I wasted my last shot! I feel the liquid burn under my skin.
Maybe I should get out some more, Vinyl Scratch thought. Things have been pretty quiet lately. Funny how parties loose some of their charm when they become work. She went up to go to her workstation to work on some remixes, but stumbled. It felt like somepony had bucked her in the stomach and she fell down onto the floor. Sharp pain surged from the stomach to each and every part of her body. She swore incoherently to herself, but her curses quickly turned into nothing but pained whimpers. A nauseous wave reach me, causing the content of my stomach to creep back up my throat.
"Not again!" she pleaded. "For the love of Celestia, not this again."I can’t hold it back any longer, liquid regurgitation spew from my mouth and nostrils. I’m hit with the smell of acid and bergamot.
Vinyl suddenly felt really cold. She could hardly control her movements for the violent shivers. She manged to roll onto her back and found herself in the fetal position, staring helplessly towards the ceiling. She focused on the rough white structure to keep her mind off the pain surging across her body. Purple and blue bruises has formed on my damaged fore hoof and the vein underneath is pounding angrily.
She started to see fleeting patterns in the ceiling, much like you would looking at a cloud for long enough. Seemingly unrelated shades and highlights combined into what looked very much like a white rabbit. Its eye was just a faint stain where the paint had dried unevenly, and it appeared to be staring at her. She could feel her eyes becoming slightly moist as she pictured herself seen from up above: A pathetic shivering wreck, draped across the floor like a sick little filly. Another wave of nausea, but this time, I have nothing I can regurgitate and I find myself just heaving dryly
"Please..." she continued to plead, but she didn't know to whom. Celestia perhaps. Or to herself. "I just want to live a normal life..."
I turn over, not thinking straight, and my head lands in the puddle of my own vomit.
Ponies make such silly assumptions, they assume that a being a DJ means living the fast life, partying for harder and longer than anypony else, and once upon a time, Vinyl Scratch did believe that. Hazy memories of those wild nights still flickered in front of her eyes as she closed them, at once pleasant and bitter. The moisture in her eyes turned to outright tears as she thought back. All those opportunities wasted, I could’ve really gone somewhere, but instead I chose to pass it by.I don’t have the strength to be sick again and my head feels too heavy to pick up. I’m just lying there, hoping that my strength will return.
Vinyl got up on her hooves, knees still shaking. She coughed dryly and staggered towards her workstation. With her magic, she levitated a pair of headphones over her ears, isolating herself from the outside world. With the push of a button, the chirping of early morning birds got drowned in the sound of a fat bass line. She tweaked a few knobs to shape the sound wave into something that pleased her ears. With the loop still playing in her headphones, she went on to charge up the drum machine. She still felt a cloud over her, the aches and pains had not gone away, but for the moment at least, she could ignore it and feel like her old self again.
I make a promise to myself to not let my addiction get the better of me. I wish I could say that I'm likely to keep it, but truth is, I've promised myself the same thing a thousand times by now.
