Chapter 1- Here I go again
Broken Record
Story by Mr.Tibbz
Chapter 1: Here I go again
The sun was shining through the window brighter than ever before as we headed to Manehattan once again in pursuit of our big chance. The trailers’ constant bumping did not allow me to fall asleep, so I drowsily got off the couch and clumsily trotted over to the drivers seat.
Sieg could barely keep his eyes from closing as their lids grew oppressively heavier every minute; he probably hadn’t slept the entire night.
“Mind if I take the wheel for a while, Sieg?” I asked, hoping to persuade him to get some rest.
“Oh no... I ain’t letting you touch this wheel...*yawn*... we’re almost there,” Sieg never did get over that one incident I had with the trailer.
“Alright, fine, but can’t you stop for a bit? You seem awfully tired and you look like you’re gonna fall asleep any minu-” I was interrupted by the trailer suddenly stopping.
“We’re here,” and having said that, Sieg promptly slumped against the steering wheel, snoring as he did.
“Good,” I snickered at the sight of his drooling face.
I was excited; I was finally gonna stop going all over the place putting on shows with fifty-fifty chances of actually getting money. I knew my hard efforts would finally be rewarded and I could, at long last, live a simple life. I could have a day to myself once again, maybe pay Aloe a casual visit.
My mind drifted with similar thoughts as I slowly began to trot towards the back of the trailer where the two guitars I had were locked in their respective cases. I hadn’t opened the case of the magnificent electric guitar ever since that rave fiasco. I just felt like playing my trusted acoustic, the only instrument with which I can really express myself.
I played a few jingles here and there, improvising on some; I loved to just improvise upon songs and make up my own. It’s the only thing I was truly good at, and I felt happy knowing I could still express my emotions through music.
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After about two hours of playing, Sieg finally woke up. Time always seemed to fly by when I played on my guitar. Sometimes, I lost track of time, and that had caused more than a few problems in the past.
“W-wha... *yawn* Oh, sweet Luna. How long was I asleep?” Sieg asked, trotting towards me.
“You’ve been out for about two hours or so.”
“Oh? Well then, shall we get prepared? I’ve already arranged a meeting with the producer to discuss a contract,” Sieg informatively stated.
“I’m ready when you’re ready,” I replied while gently putting my guitar back into its worn-out case.
Sieg took out another one of his suits from the wardrobe and proceeded to slide into it. He kept at the least ten pairs of the same suit, complete with matching ties. This time, he went for the black one, surprise, surprise.
“Ever thought of getting a different tie at least?” I asked in a joking fashion.
“No other tie fits this suit,” he responded in an overly serious tone.
“Hey, I was only joking! C’mon, let’s go already.” I was eager to get this over with and start my new career!
Singing in front of cheering audiences, playing for the crowd, enjoying every bit of that attention and love! That’s where it was at; no more cheap performances in front of an audience of no-one. No more cheap take-away food. No more passers-by giving me pitying-looks. Now I’d be looked upon by admirers! I would have proper food in the fanciest restaurants I could find! I just needed this one chance.
We stepped out of the trailer and proceeded to our destination - Equestrian Records Studio. Since we still had some time, though, we decided to trot through the streets of Manehattan a bit more exploratively. I hadn’t had a good chance to explore it the last time we came, for obvious reasons. The sights and sounds were breath-taking to say the least, but I couldn’t help but notice the many alleys the large city had. They were all dark, gloomy and brought about an unexplained feeling in my chest; why I had that feeling, I didn’t know.
After about an hour of exploring, we finally reached our destination; a massive building with a humongous vinyl record on top of it. It was breath-taking to look at.
“C’mon, Riff,” Sieg interrupted my gazing at the towering building.
“Huh? Oh, yeah! Right behind ya’ Sieg,” I snapped to attention and followed Sieg to the entrance of the studio. The glass doors opened automatically as we approached. Upon entering, we saw a receptionist pony who was currently in the middle of a call. Sieg approached the counter and began to speak.
“Um, excuse us but we have an appointment with Mr.Turner.”
The receptionist pony faced us and gave us a good, hard look, holding the phone away from her face with a hoof over the bottom. “He’s been expecting you. He’s in his office; you should go there now,” she informed us before returning to her call.
“Where can we find his office, miss?” Sieg asked.
“60th floor, end of the corridor,” she didn’t even bother looking, being too preoccupied with the caller.
“Thank you.” With that we proceeded towards the nearest elevator, one fortunately arriving and emptying as we approached. As we entered the elevator, I was amazed to see how many buttons were on the panel.
“Just how high does this thing go?” I asked in disbelief.
Sieg, meanwhile, was finally getting nervous and seemed to hesitate to press the button that would take us to the 60th floor. After mustering his courage, he finally pressed it with the tip of his hoof. Moments later, the doors slid shut and the elevator started to move upwards.
We exchanged nervous glances during the long trip up.
“Just stay cool, Sieg, we’ll get through this,” I mumbled, trying to break the ice.
“I hope so, Riff. I really hope so.”
A few moments later, the elevator had stopped and the doors opened. We stepped out and proceeded to the end of the very long corridor. The door at the end seemed to remain infinitely distant, even as we approached, right up until we were in front of it.
Sieg took a few deep breaths, working up his courage once more before he finally knocked on the door.
“Yeah, yeah, who is it?” came a gruff, yet smug voice from beyond.
“It’s us, Mr. Turner. Sieg Musica and Riff Track,” Sieg answered in as calm and collected a manner as he could.
With that, the door swung open in a flash and we were greeted by a light-brown stallion in blue business wear.
“Ah! Come in! Come in! Have a seat!” He offered in what seemed to be sincere excitement, or so I hoped.
After we took our seats, there were a few moments of silence. I discreetly examined the stallion during this time; he seemed like a pretty trustworthy pony and his gaze was switching back and forth between us.
“You were AMAZING at that show!” He finally spoke, which startled me quite a bit, “I haven’t been blown-away like that since... oh, I don’t think anypony’s ever done something like that in my lifetime!” He pulled off a really wide grin.
“T-thanks!” I said in a mixture of confusion and nervousness.
“Oh, sorry. I don’t think we were introduced yet! My name is Dosh Turner,” he smiled, offering his hoof to each of us in turn.
“Riff Track,” I replied as I reached out to give him a hoof-shake.
“Sieg Musica,” Sieg answered on his turn, also returning the hoof-shake.
“Now that we’re all properly acquainted, I’d like to discuss your future contract with Equestrian Studio Records,” he explained in a serious, business-like tone as he sat back onto his seat.
“I know I could just try and tell the higher-ups about your performance, but they’ll want some samples of your music. You understand,” Mr. Turner continued, “I’ll need you to write and record a song, so I can send it to the higher-ups. You have a week to do so. I wish I could’ve given you more time, but they are very busy ponies.”
“We understand, we’ll get to work right away,” Sieg quickly responded in as business-like a tone as he could manage.
I got a bit worried; I was certain I could write a song in a week, no problem. Recording it, however?
“There’s also another thing,” Turner added, “We’ll need an investment to pay for the recording of the song.”
“How much are we talking about here?” Sieg asked firmly.
“10,000 bits.”
My eyes widened; I thought I misheard for a second, but had he just really just said 10,000?
“10,000?! Where in Equestria are we supposed to get THAT kind of money?” Sieg shouted nervously, trying to keep cool.
“I’m sorry, but you need to fund this recording yourselves, I’m powerless here.” Turner answered in the same flat, business-like tone.
There were a few moments of silence as tension built up in the spacious room. I couldn’t believe how much would be at stake here... but this was our only chance; it was all or nothing.
“We’ll... we’ll get the money.” Sieg said, stuttering as he did.
“Good. I’ll be seeing you one week from now then, I hope. Good luck, the both of you.”
We said our farewells and left for the trailer.
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Back at the trailer, Sieg and I were discussing song choices. I presented him my ideas for an acoustic song, but he seemed adamant about one similar to what had caught the producer’s eye to begin with.
“Sieg, I’m telling you, I already have an idea for an acoustic song!” I half-shouted.
“Riff, I don’t think an acoustic will fit right now,” Sieg argued.
“Sieg, this is a great song I have here! There’s no way they won’t accept it! It’ll be like a throwback to the great classics! I’m sure they’ll love it,” I insisted on using the song I’d already pretty much written. It was a mellow acoustic song and I firmly believed it was a great sample.
“Ugh... arguing with you is so pointless that I sometimes have to wonder why I even try,” Sieg sighed as he rubbed at his temporals with his hooves.
“C’mon, Sieg! You’ve trusted me before, why not now?”
“Fine, Riff... no matter what happens, we’ll pull through,” he finally conceded with another sigh.
I finally relaxed on hearing that; at least, as much as I could. On the one hoof, I was happy he accepted my choice, but on the other, I was still worried about the financial situation. Paying for the recording would take both of our savings combined and it still wouldn’t be enough...
“Hey, since I’m not gonna use the electric guitar, why don’t we sell it? I’m sure we can bargain it at a good price,” I suggested.
“But what if we’ll need one again?” Sieg asked in a worried tone.
“We’ll just buy another with our first advance,” I confidently responded.
“That’s assuming we get a contract and an advance... that’s risky, Riff,” Sieg began, obviously concerned. After a few moments, though, he relented with a sigh, “...But I guess we don’t have much of a choice unless we sell a bunch of our other stuff.”
“See? I guess it won’t turn out as bad as we thought, eh?”
A few hours later that night, Sieg was fast asleep. I was still awake, staring at the moon. It gave a little flashback to that day, when my luck couldn’t have been better and everything fell into place. Another memorable day had been added to my subconscious now, though.
The song I had prepared was a mellow, acoustic song I wrote back when I was a little colt. It was a very nice song and I was very proud of it. I could still remember the lyrics by heart, and often sang them to myself when I was stressed; it always soothed me, calmed me down, allowed me to just escape to my own little world back then.
I still hum it under my breath without noticing sometimes.
“Lone bird in the wilderness,
Always going, never slowing,
Shunned for its song while it’s growing,
It withdraws into loneliness”
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Early the next day, we set about searching for a place to sell the electric guitar. I kept the electric guitar afloat between us the entire time, the instrument still safely in its pristine case. We trotted through Manehattan for about half an hour before we found a respectable looking pawn-shop.
Sieg started to bargain with the owner and continued doing so for a good half an hour before they finally came to a price they both agreed on. It was a bit more than what the now used guitar was actually worth, but Sieg could smooth-talk anypony into buying things they probably didn’t need. I guess it pays to have experience in commerce. A few white lies suggesting we only ever took it out of the case to look at it probably also helped.
After we received our payment for the guitar, we left and headed back towards the trailer to fetch my acoustic. We made only one quick stop along the way, though, when we found a branch of the bank we both used for our savings. One painful withdrawal later, we continued our walk, although in a slightly grimmer mood.
We wasted no time getting what we needed at the trailer and were soon heading back to the studio. I spent the trip mentally preparing myself for the recording as best I could. I tried to memorize all the parts of the song, hoping to make sure that I wouldn’t need to do too many retakes. Sieg, meanwhile, seemed to spend the trip practicing deep breathing exercises and even doing little prayers, or so it seemed.
I didn’t even notice the rest of the trip, and soon found myself at the studio without realizing it. I was in the recording room; it was fairly small with a boom-mic hanging down from the ceiling and nothing but a small stool for me to sit on. I was about to record my song while Sieg watched through the sound-proof glass window alongside a studio employee who’d be handling the recording.
The recording went pretty well in spite of a few takes, much to Sieg and I’s relief. The sample was processed and put onto a compact disc by the Equestrian Records employee, who ensured us that it was of the highest quality possible. I felt relieved, but at the same time, I felt a nervous shiver as I imagined just what could happen to my career over the course of the next few days.
“Glad that’s over with. What now, Sieg?” I asked as I exited the recording room, acoustic guitar floating next to me.
“Now we wait... and hope for the best,” Sieg answered, not even turning to me. I could tell he was nervous too... probably even more so than me, being the manager and all. I couldn’t help but feel guilty the more I thought about it; even if I was the one who insisted on doing the acoustic song, any failure here on my part would reflect badly on Sieg’s skills as a manager. His career would likely sink if this fell through, even if it wasn’t his fault.
Three days came and went. Three days filled with nothing but stress and restlessness. I didn’t get to enjoy a good nights sleep after the recording. Terrifying nightmares of being turned down haunting me. The scenery changed in each of them, but the concept was always the same; Sieg and I having our dreams and careers shattered, left in ruin with not a bit to our names. I couldn’t remember much about them after waking up except the ends, but the mental image of having everything we’ve worked towards taken away was enough to keep me up the rest of the night.
Finally, one afternoon while I was lightly strumming my guitar, I heard a knock on our trailer door. Sieg was sound asleep nearby after spending most of the day yet again fretting about whether or not we would hear back from the studio. As a result, it was up to me to answer the door and see who it was. Upon doing so, I was greeted by a gray Pegasus who was equipped with a mailbag.
“This is for you!” She cheerfully exclaimed as she presented me with a simple envelope. As I took it, she seemed to just stare at me; her eyes were crossed, so I wasn’t even sure if she was looking at me or at the peculiar-looking tree near our trailer.
“Thank you,” I finally said, pulling off an awkward grin.
“You’re welcome!” She answered happily before abruptly flying off, clumsily dropping mail in the air in the process.
“What a strange mare...” I mumbled to myself as I went back into the trailer.
I hesitated waking up Sieg so that we could look at the letter together, since he hadn’t been asleep for even an hour by that point. He was always pretty grumpy when somepony tried to wake up before he was done with a nap.
“Well... maybe just a peek won’t hurt,” I murmured to myself after awhile, giving in to my curiosity. I carefully and quietly opened the envelope so that Sieg wouldn’t hear it. Once it was open, I took out the letter and, instead of peeking at it, began slowly but thoroughly reading through it.
Then I read through it once more, going back to the top and furiously reading through it again each time I reached the end. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. I began hoping it was just a bad dream. Maybe I misread it? I thought to myself repeatedly. No... no, I had read it correctly. It was short and said what Sieg and I had been fearing the most for the past three days. Cold sweat started to drip down my face and body as I shakily laid the letter down upon the table before sitting back onto the floor.
I just sat there.
As much as I wanted to say something, anything, I couldn’t. My thoughts were empty. I couldn’t utter a single word. An hour passed without me even realizing it, and I still couldn’t believe it...
Our one chance, our only chance...
Gone.
As I sat in stunned silence, I never even noticed Sieg wake up, or that while searching for some coffee, he found the letter. It wasn’t until after he had already read it that I really noticed him, just as he was sitting onto the couch. I gradually became more aware of the situation as I watched his eyes dilate. I couldn’t speak. I was scared... for the first time in years, I was truly scared. Not for what happened, not because I was rejected, but at the thought of what would happen now? What would we do? Where would we go? Without any bits, we wouldn’t be able to sustain this way of life for even another week or two.
My mind was still in disarray as Sieg took a seat next to me. His face was blank, he seemed to have lost some of his colour. We stayed like that for a while.
“What now?...” I finally managed to say in an unsteady whisper after a long, dreadful silence, hoping Sieg would have the answer. He always had bright ideas; he’d get us out of this.
“I don’t. Know. Riff. I honestly don’t know what to do,” he paused, “What CAN we do? Sell off the trailer? Live in the streets? Become beggars? What do you PROPOSE we do, Riff?” He continued, gradually raising his voice as he spoke.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say. We were both on the edge here and I had too many things racing through my mind right then...
“This is it. This is what we have come to... nothing,” Sieg finally muttered under his breath after another long silence.
“W-we... we need to survive, Sieg. We j-just gotta k-keep together and... and everything will be alright. W-we just gotta survive,” I stuttered. “W-we’ll pull through, together, like always,”
Sieg remained silent after that, as did I. That deafening silence continued for most of the day that day.
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We finally agreed sometime later as the shock began to wear off. There was no way we could survive without money. We were going to have to sell our trailer. I couldn’t believe it... 6 years we’d had that trailer and now we were going to sell it like it was nothing. I’d grown emotionally attached to that trailer, and I was sure Sieg had, as well. It held so many memories for both of us. We had no choice, though; we needed the money.
Sieg set about trying to find someone interested in the trailer while I began the depressing task of packing our belongings and taking them out of our long time home. By the end of the day, Sieg had sold the trailer, receiving half of what it was actually worth. Even though I didn’t have the energy to be angry, Sieg still explained he had no choice, since it was on such short notice and we desperately needed the bits. I just nodded in absent-minded agreement, not particularly eager to talk about the depressing matter.
As Celestia’s sun began to set while Luna’s moon began to rise, we set off on hoof. Our bags were filled with only the bare necessities, like leftover food, clothes, memorabilia and, of course, my acoustic guitar, still in its worn case. For the first time in my life, though, I held it afloat out of my view.
Our new life began then and there as we started the long walk back to Ponyville.
End of Chapter 1
