Behind Drawn Shadesby TheLetterQChaptersChapter One - A Not-so-Simple SongChapter Two - The Shadow of the DayChapter Three - Busy Little BeesChapter One - A Not-so-Simple Song“Vinyl, what the hay do you think you’re doing? Get up, idiot!” Seventeen-year-old Vinyl Scratch stretched groggily in her bed. Barely bothering to reposition the contrasting dark-and-light blues of her mane, she and yawned loudly and half-opened her deep violet eyes. “Mmmph... Five more minutes…” she mumbled dreamily. Somepony jerked the sheets on her left side with so much force that she flipped out of the small, badly maintained bed and landed spread-eagle on the rotting floorboards. “Buck that. You get up when I’ll say you get up, and I say get up now.” Scotch Records downed a quarter bottle of cider before glaring distastefully at his daughter, who was still holding tightly onto her bed sheets. “Did you hear me? I said move it, you dirty pile of dragon scat! Get out of my sight!” Vinyl looked wearily at her father. He used to be a handsome stallion, his honey-brown coat, rugged brown mane and deep blue eyes attracting many a prospective mare. Now, his coat and mane were a grayish mud color, and he spent most of his days inside his old, dilapidating house, never bothering see the sun unless to gamble at the casino, drop by the bar, or buy more booze. “Listen to Scotch! Get your flank out of here before we kick it out!” Vinyl rose slowly to a sitting position and rubbed her eyes. She looked over to see her father’s marefriend standing side-by-side with him. Wonderful, she thought. Stepmom number - what, 27? - and no different than all the rest: just here for the nights. Vinyl stood painfully onto all fours, shaking her head to clear it of any drowsiness. Ignoring her two unwanted companions, she strapped on her saddlebag and silently left, the screen door slamming shut behind her. Scotch snorted. “Finally. I swear, seven hours a day is not enough.” “Definitely.” Stepmom # 27 nuzzled up to him. “I could’ve at least had a daughter with a useful talent. DJ-ing? Not really much money in that.” She rubbed her head against his neck. “That’s a shame…” she murmured softly into his ear. “But now… where did we leave off…?” Scotch got the hint and grinned wolfishly. “Hmm… I don’t remember.” He put a hoof around her waist, and she raised an eyebrow. She pulled away from his embrace and swayed towards the bedroom. “Then I guess we’d better start over, huh?” She looked back at him, eyes fluttering and a slow, playful smile creeping across her face. Her tail lifted ever-so-slightly in case he missed the tip-off. He didn’t. “You’re such a tease.” “And that’s why you love me.” Scotch breathed heavily, through his nose. “Yeah.” Wake up, here we go, cram it all down my throat, stomach’s so full that I wish I could choke. Seven AM, my head’s already in a spin. Vinyl walked down the street, ignoring the cheap salesponies trying to sell her merchandise or the beckoning of a hoof from a nearby alley. The music was all that mattered to her right now, the music that pounded through her head, that pumped through her veins thicker than any blood. There was always a song in her head - always. As soon as I’m out of that door, Damn, it hits me like a ton of those red bricks, can’t dig myself out of this highest ditch, this madness. The music helped her cope. There was nothing that could soothe her more completely than a ballad, or some heavy metal, or dubstep. Anything, really. The DJ wasn't particular. I swear sometimes, I can’t tell which way is up, which way is hell. It’s all up in my face, need to push it away, somebody push it away! So all that I can hear… is a simple song… As if on cue, the music in her head stopped as she reached the double doors that led into Manehattan Public High School. And all of the emotion came back with the absence of song. The snow-white unicorn raised her chin up high, determined not to be affected. Briskly, she guided herself through the hall, the amethyst fire in her eyes warning anypony nearby of the dangers getting in her way would cause. Vinyl had a nasty habit of taking anger out on ponies she didn't like. Unfortunately for everypony, that was a great deal of the school. Vinyl hadn't exactly had an easy foalhood - pretty much everypony in Manehattan knew her sob story. There had been no peace as a filly, constantly getting harassed by adults and foals alike. That is, until she had met - “VINYL!” A mint-green blur tackled her and pinned her to the ground. After the initial shock, Vinyl laughed. “Hey, Lyra.” Vinyl had known Lyra Heartstrings as long as she could remember. The mint-green unicorn had befriended her with a directness she never forgot. Vinyl's eyes grew foggy at the memory... Vinyl walked into the lonely little classroom, embarrassed. She knew the day was half over, but her father wouldn’t let her leave until her “chores” were finished, which consisted of scouring his room for empty liquor bottles. So she was late, and on her first day of school, too. Not to mention the fact that she smelled like stale alcohol and perspiration. The teacher, a young red mare with golden mane, didn’t even acknowledge her presence. After a few moments of awkwardly standing by the door, Vinyl spoke. “Um, excuse me –“ “There’s a seat to your left,” was the curt reply. Vinyl hesitated, then walked over to the seat the teacher had designated, which was next to a strong-looking lead-gray colt who looked at Vinyl with cruel eyes. Vinyl would much rather sit on the floor than next to this colt that looked like he wanted to punch her, but she sure as hay wasn’t going to disagree with the teacher. As Vinyl approached the chair, he gave her a smile. Tentatively, she smiled back. He gestured for her to sit. Still smiling, she made to oblige… Just as he pulled the seat out from under her. The next thing Vinyl knew, she was lying with her back on the stone floor, legs wide apart and stunned to inaction. The entire class laughed hysterically, including the teacher. Vinyl quickly closed her legs together and stood, face hotter than a noonday sun. Ashamed and embarrassed, she took her seat and buried her head in her arms. Something happens, she thought, miserable. Something always happens. She felt at tap at her left shoulder. Vinyl ignored it. No tears, she thought to herself. Tears just make it worse. Another tap. Vinyl finally glanced up. Two bright amber eyes looked kindly at her, quickly followed by a genuine smile. Vinyl didn’t return it, not trusting this other pony for a second. She had probably been in on the joke. The smile faltered the tiniest bit, then recovered. “Hi,” the mare said. “I’m Lyra. What’s your name?” Vinyl hesitated. Then…- “Vinyl Scratch,” she whispered. Lyra smiled “Hi, Vinyl!” She gestured at the colt who’d pulled the chair out from under Vinyl. “Don’t worry about Stone Rail – we’ll get him back later. He only pulls backwards pranks like that ‘cuz he doesn’t have the balls to go face-to-face.” She stuck her tongue out at the offending colt, who ignored her. “I’m thinking a swirlie. You?” Vinyl giggled, a little too loudly. “Vinyl!” The teacher turned to her. “Is there something you’d like to tell the class?” Vinyl opened her mouth, but then closed it. “I-I…” she stammered. “…Was talking to Lyra,” Lyra finished for her before addressing the teacher. “It was me, Mrs. Holly. I was talking to Vinyl.” The teacher looked aghast. “Lyra! I would think you were above interacting with this… this…” Mrs. Holly glanced at Vinyl distastefully. “…trash!” Vinyl felt herself sink into her chair. Lyra looked at the teacher for a long time, mouth partway open. She opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it. “You’re a bitch,” she had decided finally. Vinyl smiled at the memory. Needless to say, it hadn’t ended well for either of them, but it brought Vinyl to a friend she planned on keeping for the rest of her life. The golden-eyed mare leaped off Vinyl’s chest, shaking her green-and-white out of her eyes as Vinyl struggled to stand back up. “Vinyl, you’ll never believe it! I made the cut!” Vinyl’s jaw dropped. “No way!” “Way!” Lyra gave a little squeal of excitement. “I’m heading to Canterlot to meet Hoity Toity tonight!” Vinyl’s eyes widened. “…Tonight?” “Yes! Isn’t that great?!” “Yeah!” Vinyl grinned with pride. “Lyra, that’s amazing!” Vinyl knew that Lyra had been trying for years-years-to get signed by Hoity Toity’s label, ‘Equestrian Conventional.’ The fact that she finally had was beyond amazing. It didn’t even cross Vinyl’s mind to be jealous: her friend, she knew, deserved this. “And guess what the best part is?!” Vinyl rolled her eyes. “Come on, Lyra, what could be better than this?” Lyra took a deep breath, bear hugged Vinyl, and shouted at the top of her voice, “YOU’RE COMING WITH ME!” Every passerby’s curious looks at the pair as they passed was lost on Vinyl. Everything was a blur, Vinyl's mind spinning so fast that it was a struggle to stay focused on one spot for too long. Everything was a hum of shock and happiness, and she couldn’t get her mouth to close. She couldn’t even think. Lyra set her friend down. Vinyl didn't seem very enthusiastic. "Hey... you okay?" Vinyl's jaw had to work for a few moments before she could say anything. Finally, she managed a word. “Wh…what?” Lyra held Vinyl by the shoulders. “I sent one of your CD’s with mine! They loved it!” “But… isn’t it a classical label?” Lyra shook her head. “Yeah, but they said there are several ponies in Canterlot that they can send you to with good recommendations!” “Lyra, I…” Vinyl swallowed, trying to overcome the lump in her throat, trying to think with a clear mind, trying to hold back the tears of joy that were struggling to rise. Her mind tried to convey the emotion, but her mouth wouldn't obey. She laughed at herself. "I... I really don't know what to say!” “You don’t have to believe it!” Lyra shouted ecstatically. “In a few days, we’ll be in Canterlot, and you can see it for yourself!” Vinyl grinned, ignoring her stinging eyes. “I can’t wait.” Lyra paused, as if unsure about something, then asked delicately, “But… will your dad be okay with this?” Vinyl’s smile wavered. “Y-yeah, he’ll be fine with it,” Vinyl stammered. “I mean, why wouldn’t he be? Any good parent wants their kid to follow their dream, right?” “…Right,” Lyra conceded. “So, I guess just meet me at Grand Central Station tonight? Then we’ll be able to be there in… two days, I think.” “Sounds good,” Vinyl said, relieved that the conversation’s subject had changed rather quickly. “And… Thanks, Lyra.” “Don’t mention it,” The mint-green mare waved a hoof dismissively. “You would’ve done the same for me.” The bell rung. Lyra glanced up at it in alarm. "Oh, crap! I gotta get to class. See you tonight, Vinyl!" With a final wave of her hoof, the mint-green mare took off galloping down the hall. Vinyl watched her go, an irreversible smile creeping across her features. The day could not end fast enough. “You want to WHAT?!?” “Scotch, honey, could you lower your voice a little? The neighbors-” “To hay with the neighbors! This ungrateful mule of a daughter thinks she can just run off and join some salt-lick commune! I swear to Celestia, I’m gonna kick her lousy flank halfway to-” Vinyl swallowed, then hardened her resolve. Bravely standing up to her father, she interrupted with as much self-control as she could manage. “It’s not a salt-lick commune, dad, it’s an audition, a chance for me to be somepony important for once! Why can’t you ever just let me-” “I’m not gonna pay for your bail when you get thrown in prison for dealing in drugs to some idiot pony!” “Dad, I’m not going to sell-” “You’re not going to that audition, girl, and that’s final!” Vinyl’s stomach clenched involuntarily, and in an uncontrollable tide of emotion, her resistance was swept away and her eyes flashed. “Why?” She spat. “So you can just milk me for bits the rest of my life?” “Now look here-” Vinyl cut him off, not tolerating him for even a second more. The words dropped off her tongue like coals, heavy as lead and laden with hate. “The reason I haven’t kept a job, Dad, is because every time I get one, I make next to NOTHING because you make me give you my paycheck EVERY BUCKING TIME so you can spend it on booze or waste it all on that damn casino!” Her father ground his teeth. “Don’t raise your voice to me, girl,” Scotch seethed quietly. “You think I wanted a daughter?” Vinyl blinked. “Wh…what?” Scotch growled at her, like a dangerous animal unleashed from the depths of the Everfree Forest. “You. Were. An. Accident. I never wanted you. I didn’t even know you existed until you showed up on my doorstep with my name in the ‘sire’ section of your birth certificate. I looked for weeks for your mother to try and return you, but I never saw the bucking whorse again!” He struck Vinyl savagely on the cheek, and she fell to the ground. “Now get out of my sight before I decide to give you a chance to audition for Equestria’s Best Flyer competition,” he snarled. “I think out the roof would be a good place to start.” Vinyl saw stars. As she tried to blink them away, she realized she was er body shook with a savage rage. Before she even knew what she was doing, her lips were moving. “Buck you,” she said quietly. He leaned in towards her, sneering cruelly. “You. Wish,” he replied. For some reason, that final statement pissed her off more than anything else. Her hoof began to move of its own accord, traveling far behind her head. Scotch’s eyes widened as he realized what she was doing, and made to yell. What am I doing? Vinyl wondered. He’s going to kill me. But she didn’t care. It was almost done. With a scream of fury, Vinyl hauled back and slugged her father between the eyes. Scotch Records stumbled backwards, complete disbelief covering every inch of his face. The house was silent. No one said a word. Vinyl’s ragged breathing could be heard clearly, and her father opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. Finally, he spoke, the words soft at first, then bursting out with increasing speed and intensity. “You…” Scotch’s brows knit in fury. His breathing accelerated twofold with every word. “You hit me. You goddamn punk! You UNGRATEFUL HOOLIGAN! YOU REEKING PILE OF DRAGON SCAT!” As he spoke, he rushed to the dilapidated kitchen, fumbling in the silverware drawer. “I’LL KILL YOU!” After a few moments, Scotch’s hooves found purchase on a large cleaver. The enraged pony spun to face his daughter. Vinyl was nowhere to be seen, as she was already in her room the moment her father went galloping to the kitchen. “That’s right, cower in your room, you little punk! If you were in my sight another second you wouldn’t be alive for me to yell at!” Scotch’s yells were muffled through the door, but Vinyl didn’t feel any safer inside a locked room as long as she was still in the same apartment with the homicidal maniac who was her father. It took Vinyl less than five seconds to decide her course of action. Ignoring the rampaging sounds of her raging father just outside her door, she quickly packed several necessary toiletries, a water bottle, and all the bits she owned (which admittedly wasn’t much) into her saddlebag. She spun and ran to her closet, rummaging around at the bottom until she pulled out a small stack of CD's, a pair of Beats by Dr. Whooves, and the small, electronic RMA card that her tracks were stored on. She rose, unsteady, and headed to the window, where a reflection waited to greet her. Vinyl saw bloodshot eyes, wide with terror and anticipation. She saw the light-and-dark contrasting blues of her mane, ridiculously tangled, each strand intertwining with another. She saw the spot on her cheek, red and throbbing, where she had been hit. And, raising her hoof, she saw the ticket that Lyra had given to her earlier, the promise of a better life. “This is it,” she muttered. She looked past her reflection, out into the hustle-and-bustle of late-night Manehattan. It was beautiful, really, when you were far enough away to appreciate it, when you couldn’t see the dust, the decay. When you couldn’t see the poor houses or the blood spilled by gangfights on the street or some unsuspecting mare getting pulled into an alley where the unthinkable happened. Yeah, beautiful. Vinyl took one last, lingering glance around her bedroom. Not to remember it, because Vinyl was happy enough to be rid of the place. No, what she wanted was to remind herself why she was leaving. She snorted, impatient with herself. No point reminiscing, she thought. And no point waiting any longer. She silently lifted the glass window and slid out, hooves delicately making contact with the cold, rusted metal of the fire escape. Slowly and carefully climbing down, one rung at a time, she tried not to focus on how high she was, or how much it would hurt if she slipped. The second Vinyl alighted upon the ground, she paused for a moment to readjust her saddlebags, then took off galloping breakneck to Grand Central Station. Author's Note Song is “Simple Song’ by Miley Cyrus (before you criticize, there's a story). Anyway, that song was written by my cousin's (now-ex) fiancé, Gran Bel Fisher, and Cyrus bought it off of him. So, technically, it’s a Gran Bel Fisher song :) Anywho, that version I posted is the original lyrics. Thought it fit the situation. Sorry, I just went back over this chapter, plan on revising soon. All I ask is that you stick with me to the end of chapter three. If you are dissatisfied then, you can leave :) ~This fimfiction has been brought to you by the letter Q. Chapter Two - The Shadow of the DayVinyl’s hooves clattered on the wet cement, cold and slick beneath the pouring rain. She ran faster than she had ever run in her life, racing past stop signs and dodging streetlamps as she went. Her eyes darted frequently to the shadows, as if she were afraid that Scotch Records would come tearing out of the darkness like a deranged animal, rage-filled and baying with bloodlust. Her breath came out in ragged bursts, and her lungs felt as if they were about to implode with every step she took as she galloped towards her destination, but she didn’t dare slow. She knew that to slow down even the minutest amount was to give in, and things had already gone too far out of her hooves to give in. She ran on, past the partying within club windows and the crying of the adjacent alleys. The shouts of the upper-class Manehattan ponies as Vinyl bowled them over fell on deaf ears. But nothing mattered to her now, nothing save getting to Grand Central Station and away from all of this. Then… what was this feeling that plagued her mind, its subtle nuances harrowing her already erratic thoughts? Hiding discreetly behind the bold presence of fear and adrenaline? Not regret, but… dread? What could she possibly have to dread? Lyra trotted happily along Grand Central Station’s majestic hallway, miraculously staying stable despite the slickness of the marble. Tall, ornately carved pillars rose to the ochre ceiling, where they conjoined seamlessy. A smile graced every inch of Lyra’s features, and she trotted with a slight hop to her gait. The mint-green mare couldn’t get the phone call that had changed her life out of her mind. She had answered, unbeknownst of what would change in the first five seconds of that call. Her golden eyes shined ever the brighter in the dark rain at the vivid memory, every bit of the audio crisp and clear within her mind… Hello? Hello, is this Miss Lyra Heartstrings? …Yes, this is she. Who is this? This is Hoity Toity’s secretary. HOLY SH - Er, haha, did you say Hoity Toity? Why, I did indeed, ma’am. You see, we received your application along with those CD’s you sent us. We had no idea you were a mare of such divine talent. The lyre was simply entrancing, and the mixtapes were… well, that’s not really Mr. Toity’s forte, but we would be happy to point that aspect of your musical ability to somepony who might put it to a better use. Oh my Celestia, thank you so much! You don’t know what this means to me! But, um, the DJ-ing isn’t me, it’s my friend. She really is amazing. Do you think that if she showed you what she can do, could you, um, point her out to those other ponies you mentioned? Of course. Oh, thank you so much! It’s not a problem, Miss Heartstrings. Well, Mr. Toity sends his regards, and looks forward to handling your management in the future! Just meet us at his studio in Canterlot within the next week. Pop in between ten and five, say your name, and you’ll be taken to meet Mr. Toity himself. And if you would like, you may bring your friend as well. I’m mailing you the information now. O-Okay! Oh my Celestia, thank you so much! Goodbye, Miss Lyra. Bye! Lyra grinned even wider, not minding the splashing of the rain as it soaked her fur and drenched her hooves. She almost missed the white, wild-maned mare standing by the entrance. “Vinyl!” Lyra was surprised that her friend had gotten to Grand Central Station so quickly, as her friend was well known for her chronic lateness, but she was even more alarmed by her appearance. Vinyl looked worn, ragged, and beat-up. Her mane was a mess, and something that looked like dried blood caked the edge of her lip. The panting pony’s cheek was red, as if she’d been slapped. “What happened?” Vinyl swallowed, hard. “Nothing. I-I’m fine. Let’s go.” The mint-green mare peered at Vinyl’s small bag of necessities. “That’s all you’re bringing?” She questioned, a little skeptically. “What about-” “I’ll be fine,” Vinyl snapped loudly. “Can we just go?” Lyra hesitated, worried. Vinyl looked almost… scared. Deciding against asking what the matter was, the lyrist pursed her lips. “O-okay.” She resolved to interrogate her friend about it later. For now, she just had to help Vinyl get as far away from… whatever she was scared of… as soon as possible. Vinyl nodded curtly. Lyra led the way to the train. She couldn’t get over Vinyl’s appearance. Gone was the amber-eyed mare’s high-spirited mood of moments before, replaced by a melancholy confusion. Vinyl didn’t want to talk about whatever had happened, that was clear enough. But what was she so afraid of sharing? Fights were nothing new. Lyra knew that Vinyl could probably kick a professional hoofball player’s flank if she put her mind to it. So what made this one different? She flashed her ticket to the conductor, and then stepped onto the train as Vinyl did likewise. After both mares were on board, each turned to look at her surroundings. And gasped. Beautifully intricate lace tablecloths rested over the most expensive of mahogany tables. Each table was adorned with a single fuchsia candle, not yet lit, yet still aromatic. The walls were a deep red, and the framework of the walls gilded gold. “Damn,” she heard Vinyl murmur appreciatively. “Fan-cy.” Lyra nodded, mouth still open in shock. The tickets had said first class, but neither mare could ever have expected this. “This room’s bigger than my house,” she said in awe. Vinyl ran her hooves over one of the nearby tables, then chuckled drily. “This table’s worth about three times our -” She caught herself. “…My dad’s house.” Still awestruck by her surroundings, Lyra took no notice of Vinyl’s tone, and instead focused on a small marble stage where there stood sweet little cellist playing a haunting melody. Her jet-black mane fell over her leaden-gray coat, and her bow practically danced over the strings. A musician herself, Lyra was extremely impressed at both the mare’s dignified manner and superb music. She was about to point her out to Vinyl when a waiter in a tuxedo trotted over to her. “You are Miss Heartstrings, yes?” he asked in a slight accent. “You and Miss Scratch may take a seat, if you so wish.” The well-dressed stallion bowed to the pair before gesturing at the numerous empty tables. Lyra and Vinyl exchanged a glance, then grinned. “Yes, I think we shall,” Vinyl said with an air of superiority, thrusting her nose high into the air and cantering to a nearby table. Lyra followed suit, making sure to look as snobbish as possible as she made her way to her seat. The waiter looked unperturbed, probably accustomed to rude upper-class customers, and simply nodded at them before leaving to the kitchens after a quick “I’ll be with you in a moment.” Vinyl and Lyra looked at each other once again, before bursting into peals of laughter. “Oh – haha- my –hahaha- Celestia, did you see his face?” Vinyl crowed, scarcely able to breathe. Tears streamed down Lyra’s cheeks, wetting the fur down to her neck. “It was – hehehehe- PRICELESS- hahaha!” She put on a mock serious face, frowning disapprovingly, and deepened her voice. “’I will be with you in a moment; please, don’t blow up zee train while I gossip to zee cooks about your bad behavior.’” Vinyl wiped tears from her own eyes. “Oh, Celestia, that was awesome…” Lyra grinned. “We’re such jerks.” Her violet-eyed friend sighed contentedly, more relaxed than Lyra had seen her in a long while. “Yeah.” A voice came over the intercom, a small, shining silver box in the upperhoof corner of the room. “Attention, all passengers. We are about to leave the station. Please make sure any and all luggage is onboard at the time of departure. Thank you.” Vinyl checked her saddlebag. Once again, Lyra felt a pang of worry at her friend’s small pouch of necessities, but it soon faded as she prepared to immerse herself in the immense task of going through her own personal harem of thirteen suitcases, which she spied an unfortunate stallion carrying to her from across the room, his spine bending awkwardly under the weight. Lyra beckoned for him to come over to her and he, albeit with a groan, obliged. “Set them here,” she commanded politely, pointing to her left. With a grateful sigh, the stallion toppled over. The suitcases were quickly saved from disaster by a mint-green aura of magic emanating from Lyra’s horn. The unicorn then carefully stacked them, one on top of the other, next to her chair while the offending stallion grinned at her sheepishly. Lyra waved him off with a hoof, and he gratefully retreated to the door, bolting away once he thought he was out of their sight. Vinyl watched him go with a lax grin plastered on her face. She observed him weaving quickly through the crowd, bumping into and bowling over ponies as he went, including a tall, rugged brown stallion that kicked the unfortunate orderly in the flank as he passed. Her heart stopped. She swallowed hard, not believing her eyes, but there he was… “Lyra.” Her friend smiled at her. “Yes,Vinyl?” “How soon is the train leaving?” Lyra frowned just the littlest bit. Vinyl’s tone worried her. “I-I’m not sure… Why?” Vinyl just nodded, continuing to stare out the window. Lyra furrowed her brows at her friend’s behavior. They should be having the time of their lives, and yet… Vinyl’s demeanor, both earlier and now, troubled her. She followed the white unicorn’s gaze to a rugged brown Earth Pony stallion that angrily shoved anypony in his way to his side, where they would tumble onto the ground. Lyra looked at Vinyl again, and was astonished at the change. The mare who had just moments ago been laughing with her so hard that tears streamed out of her eyes was now wearing a contorted expression of pure terror. Vinyl’s pupils were contracted to the point where they were nothing but pinpricks, and she seemed rooted to the spot, as if she feared to even move. Once more, Lyra followed her gaze, and noticed the glint of something in the stallion’s saddlebag. It looked like a knife. Lyra sprung out of her chair, knocking it over and causing a dozen or so heads to turn her way. She didn’t care; she was already sprinting to a guard that stood by the entrance to the train. He looked at her oddly, but she ignored him, already talking. “WHATTHEBUCKTHATSTALLIONHASAKNIFEANDHE’SCOMINGONTHETRAINANDMYFRIENDLOOKSLIKESHEKNOWSHIMANDSHE’SSCAREDSOPLEASEOHPLEASEHELP.” He tilted his head. “Whaaat? Ma’am, please, slow down…” Lyra took a deep breath. “That stallion’s got a knife.” She pointed him out to the guard, who looked at her skeptically. “Ma’am, I don’t-” “Look at his saddlebag,” she deadpanned. The guard did. “I still don’t…” His eyes widened. “WHAT THE BUCK!” He galloped towards the stallion she had specified at full speed, shouting as he went. “YOU THERE! HOOVES IN THE AIR!” The dangerous stallion stopped. “Who, me?” He asked innocently. “Yes, you!” By now, other guards had heard the commotion and were rushing to the scene. In but a few moments, he was surrounded by about half a dozen guards, each brandishing a dangerous-looking spear. “I’ll say it once more: HOOVES IN THE AIR!” Scotch Records did nothing of the sort. With a feral growl, he took the knife out of his saddlebag and put it in his mouth. He charged at the nearest guard, eyes blazing and slashing everywhere with his weapon. The guard easily blocked the blows with the butt of his spear, sending Scotch into an even wilder frenzy. As he struggled to make even one of his blows land, Lyra noticed five other guards sneaking up behind him. In perfect sync, each guard grabbed a hoof, save one that put Scotch’s neck in a chokehold. The guard Scotch had been trying to maim roughly knocked the weapon out of Scotch’s mouth, before delivering to him a slap that even Vinyl winced at. With the rugged brown stallion out of commission, the guards dragged him out of the station.. Vinyl let out a sigh that she had been holding for a long, long time. And though she felt safer than she had in years… Lyra sat down across from her. “Vinyl.” The white unicorn looked up dazedly at the mention of her name. Lyra’s usually soft amber eyes were hard as stone, and her forehooves were clasped tightly together in front of her. Vinyl felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was Lyra’s unhappy face. And when Lyra was unhappy, she wanted answers. And when she wanted answers… Vinyl shuddered. Lyra didn’t move. “Vinyl, who was that?” “I-I don’t-” “Don’t buck with me!” Vinyl jumped at the shout escaping from the mint-green mare’s lips. Lyra leaned forward and growled at her. “Who. Was. That.” Vinyl grew so pale that it showed though her characteristic white. “I don’t know.” “Vinyl.” Her name, said in that tired, weary tone, made her stop denying the truth. She looked at Lyra slightly closer. Her friend’s eyes may have been hard, but they were wet. Lyra’s posture was aggressive, and yet she was trembling. And though the amber-eyed mare’s tone may have been harsh, Vinyl detected the tiniest amount hurt in her voice. So, with a sigh of resignation, she told her. In the rear of the car, two mares sat on little stools around a fireplace. “How the buck do they even have a fireplace on a train?” One of the mares, a beige pony with blue and pink mane, wondered aloud to her companion. "Leave it to you to ask such a pointless question," chuckled the other mare, a leaden gray mare with a cello resting at her hooves. The first pony elbowed her friend in the side. “Oh, shut up, Octavia, I was just curious.” The other mare rolled her eyes. “Calm down, Bon Bon. You know I was just kidding around with you.” The first mare stuck her tongue out at her before speaking her thoughts once again. “How do you think we’ll do, though?” She fretted. “I mean, neither of us have met him before and-” The gray mare waved her hoof to cut her off. “Not quite true. My parents are actually quite familiar with him. I’m sure I can get them to put in a good word for the two of you.” “Celestia, Octavia, can’t a mare speak?!” But the blue-and pink maned mare was smiling. “Thanks, Octavia. I’d really appreciate that.” "You're welcome." A few moments of companionable silence passed. Then... "Octavia, I'm bored." The raven-maned earth pony sighed. "You're always bored." "No I'm not!" "Always." Bon Bon huffed. "Fine, maybe I am. But I'm reaaaally bored right now." Smiling craftily, she looked at Octavia with puppy dog eyes. "Won't you sing for me?" "No." The beige pony jumped up in shock. "What? Come on, you're awesome though!" Two violet eyes stared dispassionately back at her. "I just spent two hours standing on my hind legs playing a cello for ponies who didn't really want to listen. Why should I sing?" "Because if you sing then they'll like your music five bajillion times more!" Bon Bon grabbed Octavia by the side, waving a forehoof in front of them in a slow, dramatic arc to the right. "Just imagine: thousands of adoring fans, all spreading the word to even more ponies about the amazing cellist who not only plays her instrument perfectly, but - get this - SINGS!" Octavia blew a long breath, her cheeks puffing out to either side and temporarily giving her the appearance of a blowfish. “You always exaggerate. But...fine. What would you like to hear?” Bon Bon tapped her hoof on her chin. “How about Shadow of the Day?” “By Linkin Pony?” Octavia inquired. “That’s the one.” Octavia stood. “Ehhhhh….. very well. Just give me a moment.” The gray Earth pony lifted her cello off the floor, strapping it onto her back. After a few moments of adjusting the strap to make it more comfortable, she cantered up to the stage. Nopony nearby took notice, simply continuing to carry on with their conversations. Octavia took her beloved cello off her back, straightening it before standing next to the instrument, erect and poised. The leaden-gray mare flipped her jet-black mane out of her eyes, cleared her throat, and rested the bow on her beloved instrument. Then, setting a sweet and subtle tune, the words flowed. “I close both locks below the window… I close both blinds and turn away…” Anypony close to the singing mare stopped what they were doing to listen. Bon Bon smiled softly. She never could quite get over her foalhood friend’s voice. It was so… pure. That was the best way to describe it. Pure, unadulterated music. Mare was talented, nopony could deny that. And the cello... there was no describing the soft, soulful tones of the instrument as the deep vibrations echoed within the wood from a willow. Nothing was more relaxing... or touching. “Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple… Sometimes goodbye’s the only way… ohhh…” Bon Bon couldn’t help herself. Unexpectedly, she joined in, their voices filling the train car, everypony nearby turning their heads to listen, including a certain amber-eyed mare and her friend. “And the sun will set for you… The sun will set for you… And the shadow of the day will embrace the world in gray and the sun will set for you…” Octavia nodded at her friend, and she took over. The beige mare slipped into the song, her voice taking over where the cellist had left off as Octavia continued to keep the beautiful tones of the cello flowing. “There’s cards and flowers on your window… Your friends all plead for you to stay… Sometimes beginnings aren’t so simple… Sometimes goodbye’s the only way…ohhh…” Her voice was less refined than Octavia’s, but possessed a certain short-and-sweet quality to it that spoke in nuances and unsaid thoughts slipping insidiously past the borders of the listener’s mind. Lyra found herself entranced. She watched as both mares smiled at each other, then launched into the chorus together. “And the sun will set for you… The sun will set for you… And the shadow of the day will embrace the world in gray and the sun will set for you…” Octavia bowed and returned to her stool at the fireplace amongst roars of applause and approval. Bon Bon simply grinned and waved. Lyra turned to Vinyl, prepared to say something, but halted at her friend's expression. And, shocked as she had been at Vinyl’s admission of moments ago, she was even more shocked now. Vinyl was smiling, small rivulets of tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched the cellist take her seat. Author's Note Hey, guys! Quick author’s note, hopefully will answer any questions. For credit, yes, that was a Linkin Park song, as many of you have probably guessed :) Possibly my favorite that they’ve made. Here's a link -> Sorry for this chapter taking so long :( A few things came up, such as Tests and Life and MLP Season 3. But rest assured, I’m getting my priorities straight. Ponies first :D I guess just expect them every week, and we'll see how it goes from there. Any other questions or comments on the story, feel free to post them below! As always, constructive criticism is appreciated. ~This fimfiction has been been brought to you by TheLetterQ. Chapter Three - Busy Little BeesVinyl Scratch stood alone at the rear end of the train, on the little metal balcony that Lyra had told her about. She watched the trees blur past the fast-moving machine, the brown and green foliage blending together and creating an unholy mix of the two colors. In the distance, snowcapped mountains peeked out from under the bulk of cumulous clouds as pegasi struggled to move the gargantuan behemoths. The sun shone down on a stream, sending a myriad of colors in all directions. Vinyl watched with enraptured fascination. Something stirred inside her, a familiar feeling that, as a filly, had accompanied her wherever she went. Insignificance. Scotch Records was a huge part of that mentality, she knew, but that didn’t offer her any consolation now. Here she was, one insignificant mare in a sea of ponies that all knew they were better than her. Nature, with her looming horizons and insurmountable mountains, was simply a metaphorical paramount to that. The unicorn’s thoughts drifted to her father. With one hoof still gripping the pristine steel railing, Vinyl took the other and brushed the bruise that still marked the underside of her eye. She grimaced. Yep, still sore. The hoof traveled to her swollen lip. That, thankfully, had mostly healed; the puffiness that had marred it the day before was reduced to a simple bump. She should make sure to thank Nurse Blue Cross later. The pain of the bruise was nothing but a reminder of how much Vinyl hated him. That much, the snow-white unicorn knew without a doubt. She knew that Scotch Records was a terrible father, and she should be glad enough to be rid of him. But… he was still her father, and she knew she should be feeling some sort of remorse… He was choked to unconsciousness and arrested, for Celestia’s sake! But she felt nothing. It was this, more than anything else, which disturbed her. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, looking past the gorgeous landscape surrounding her. It could have been fifteen minutes or fifteen hours. Time had ceased to have meaning, everything just blurred into two camps: Before and After. The mare exhaled deeply, annoyed at herself. She was in After. She should be focusing on the future, not dwelling on the past. Somepony tapped her on the shoulder. Vinyl snapped out of her reverie, raising her head in a daze to see the newcomer. “Hello.” A light gray mare stood upright beside her, stretching. “Nice night out, isn’t it?” Night? Confused, Vinyl glanced at her surroundings. Sure enough, Luna’s moon shone radiantly in the sky, and the stars twinkled with the merry brightness that the Queen of the Night thought befit her realm. The forest of pine the train passed shimmered eerily in the light of the heavens. The mountain range that had been so beautiful in the day was nothing more than a looming behemoth on the horizon, the shadowy crags and crevices that she could just make out from afar filling the amethyst-eyed unicorn with a sense of foreboding. How long have I been here? The howl of a Timberwolf cut through the air, frighteningly loud and frighteningly close. Vinyl jumped, the hair on the nape of her neck standing on end. The note hung in the air for a few moments, haunting the night with its unnatural beauty before slowly fading away into oblivion. It took her a moment to collect her thoughts. “Yeah,” Vinyl finally murmured. “Nice.” The mare laughed, and Vinyl gave a shaky smile in return. As the newcomer stood enraptured with the picture-perfect world around her, the snow-colored unicorn took the chance to look her over. She observed the elegant black mane, the slim build, the dark, smoky violet eyes, the practiced smile. And she recognized her. Vinyl wanted to say: “Hey, you’re the pony that sang yesterday! You were amazing, and so was your friend! Are you in a band? You should be! Where are you guys headed?” What came out was: “You play.” Vinyl had to resist the urge to punch herself in the mouth. But the mare giggled. “Yes, I do. And you were that mare in the back who was crying last night.” She grimaced. “Sorry about that.” Vinyl relaxed, waving a hoof at her nonchalantly. “It’s fine. It wasn’t you, anyway. It was that song…” She smiled softly, her thoughts on the lyrical magic that had been woven earlier. “Those words… they just…” She shrugged. “It was just one of those songs, you know, that perfectly explain what’s happening, and…” She shrugged again, half-smiling at the pitiful attempt to relay the impossible. The new mare nodded at her emphatically. “No, it’s okay. I know what you mean.” They both looked out at the night again. Vinyl tried watching the landscape for a while more, but quickly found her gaze wandering to the mysterious mare again. She looked as if she was debating with herself about something, her jaw grinding together and her brows furrowed in thought. A couple times she looked as if she might speak, only to shut her mouth again and resume staring at their stunning surroundings. A beat. Octavia spoke, her voice calm, resigned, and emotionless. “Look… I’m gonna be honest with you. Anypony can tell that you’re… well, let’s just say you’re not having the best day. I’m just going to take a shot in the dark and say it has something to do with the knife-toting stallion from yesterday.” Vinyl made to protest, but the Earth pony cut her off with a wave of her hoof. “So, here’s what I’m going suggest. There’s a bar on the train. There’s music, beverages, karaoke, whatever floats your boat. Your friend – that green mare, correct?- was there, too. But you need to do something. You can’t just sit here and mope, alright? You’re life isn’t out there in the woods somewhere. It’s here, going on, right now.” She leaned back against the rail, crossing her hooves as the wind whipped through her mane. “So, would you like to go?” Vinyl thought about it. In all honesty, she was worried about herself. Here she was, on a first-class train to Canterlot, and she was standing all alone on a balcony looking out at the world. She winced, realizing how cliché she must look. Vinyl sighed, looking out one last time to the beauty of the surrounding forest. “…Sure.” The leaden-gray mare grinned at her. “Amazing.” She returned to again look out at the night, breathing in the cool air as the wind whipped around her. Vinyl made to head for the door that lead inside the train when she remembered a crucial bit of information she lacked. “Wait a sec.” The mare turned, raising a confused brow. “Yes?” “You didn’t tell me your name,” Vinyl pointed out. The mare blinked. "Oh, goodness, how silly of me!" She held out a hoof to shake. "I'm Octavia, cellist extraordinaire." Vinyl returned the proffered hoof. "Nice to meet you, Octavia. I'm Vinyl Scratch. DJ... uh... rookie." Octavia giggled. “Well, at least you're honest." Vinyl laughed in return... before another tiny tidbit of information crossed her mind. "Uh... did you say my friend was in there?" "Oh, yes," Octavia replied instantly. "And she seemed to be having a wonderful time, by the looks of it." Oh, horseapples. Octavia continued to speak, oblivious of the danger that the bar, all its inhabitants, and Equestria in general was in. “Celestia, you should have seen her. Downed them like a professional. Well, until she got tipsy. Then…” Vinyl didn’t wait to hear the rest. She was already racing to the bar car, her hooves clattering on the mahogany floor, shoving passerby out of her way as she went (to the regal and dignified dismay of the regal and dignified passengers). Cries of “Oh, I say!” and “Preposterous, absolutely preposterous!” abounded throughout the train, but the galloping snow-white unicorn didn’t slow. The fate of Equestria could be hanging in the balance. Vinyl had only seen Lyra tipsy once before, at a poorly-hosted house party as a freshmare in high school, and a drunk Lyra was something she wanted to keep as an once-in-a-lifetime event. She still found some of those pictures sometimes, and each was horrifying in their own right. Anyway, Lyra had been struggling to live the humiliation down ever since. The fact the amber-eyed unicorn had even touched alcohol spoke volumes. Vinyl knew the mint-green mare either was a) drugged or b) in the presence of one knockout of a stallion. By the fact that her friend was in a bar, Vinyl assumed it was likely enough to be both. She saw a door that read ‘BAR’, engraved on a gold plaque, less than 20 paces away. Galloping towards it, she flung the door open, eyes wild and searching for a telltale flash of mint green and fleeing civilians. The sudden blast of music almost caused her to go running back the way she came. Vinyl winced. The DJ was going waaay to heavy on the instruments, to the point where it was almost unbearable. It sounds like… Vinyl tried to think of a good way to phrase the terrible mixtape. …like someone threw a few dozen of every instrument off a cliff and recorded how they sounded when they hit the ground. She nodded to herself affirmatively, then grimaced at a poorly-placed bass drop. Oh, Celestia, he's bad. The amethyst-eyed mare shook her head, clearing it of any thought save the task at hand. Right, Lyra. She tried to ignore the DJ's sorely obvious lack of skill and the pulsing of the strobe as it lit the room every color of the rainbow. The other inhabitants of the club (because this was clearly not a bar) didn’t seem to mind very much, judging by their incessant grinding as well as the giggles and moans wafting out of the nearby restrooms. Ponies fell over the stage in the rear of the room, where there sat a pony with oversized headphones nodding off-beat. When Vinyl didn’t see Lyra, she worried she was going to have to go in and check the bathrooms to make sure Lyra hadn’t cornered some poor stallion, or worse, when she heard somepony clumsily sneaking behind over the crashing of the bass and the shouts of the partying ponies. Vinyl, along with Lyra, had taken no less than six courses of self-defense classes when she was a filly, and though it had been years since she last practiced, she often could still perform the moves that had been easy for her as a foal. So it was second nature for her to leap into the air, spin, and send a flying roundhouse kick towards her assailant’s head with a wild "HIYAAAAAH!!". Lyra just ducked, giggling, the drink in her hoof sloshing out of her cup as she swayed back and forth in drunken mirth. “Fooled ya!” The intoxicated unicorn trilled gleefully. Her eyes gleamed with an unusual sheen, her smile was stretched far too wide, and the fact that Lyra was acting stupid enough to try and sneak up on Vinyl all served to confirm what Vinyl already suspected. Vinyl heaved a sigh of relief and exasperation. “Lyra! What the hay do you think you’re doing?” Her best friend giggled, hiccupped, and then giggled again. “Getting drunk, dummy, what’s it look like?” Lyra threw her head back, swigging the rest of her drink. She hiccupped one more, grinning ear to ear. “Celestia, I’d forgotten how fun this was!” Vinyl looked at the mint-green mare like she had three heads. "Um... Lyra, don't you remember the last time you were drunk? You completely lost it! Why the hay-" Lyra nodded, distracted. “Uh-huh.” The two amber orbs that adorned her face slowly began to cross. After a few moments of awkward derping, she suddenly snapped to attention again. “Wait, what?” Vinyl facehoofed, and was about to repeat herself when Lyra interrupted her. “Hey, have some beer! Not as good as whiskey, but still makes you tipsy!” The minty mare giggled. "Hey, that rhymed!" She pushed her glass towards Vinyl, smiling cheerfully, before realizing it was empty. “Oh yeah.” Lyra raised her empty cup high in the air, taking a deep breath. “BERRY!” "Yeah, yeah, don't get your nethers in a twist!" A grinning purple Earth pony appeared alongside Lyra, offering her hoof for Vinyl to shake. Vinyl obliged. "Hey, how ya doin'? I'm Berry Punch, owner of this here joint. Nice ta meet ya!" Berry leaned forward, looking over the amethyst-eyed unicorn closely, and a huge smile across her features. Vinyl shifted uncomfortably, aware of the oh-so-familiar smell of alcohol heavily lacing Berry's breath. "Heyyyyyy, you must be that Vinyl Scratch Lyra here was talkin' 'bout earlier!" She nudged Vinyl, who smiled at her, embarrassed. "Heard ya played some 'sick beats,' or something like that. Isn't that what you said, Lyra, baby?" Lyra nodded, much more rapidly than her neck should have allowed. "Yep! I said..." Her brows furrowed. "Oh yeah! I said that you played 'the sickest beats in Equestria!'" She smiled at Vinyl, who returned it, flattered. "Oh, uh, and that you would play some of your mixtapes." Vinyl's jaw dropped, eyes widened, and heart stopped all at the same time. "You... you..." she sputtered. “WHAAAT?!” Lyra waved a modest hoof as Berry cut in. "You can thank her later, bud. I'll get ya set up while Lyra nabs your tracks." She turned to Lyra. "Ya know where they are?" Lyra bobbed her head in assent, reciting her knowledge in a monotone. "In her saddlebag, hidden under the bed, stored on a 64GB RMA card." Vinyl looked at the amber-eyed mare accusingly. "How the hay did you know that?" "I looked through your things. Plus, you always store your songs on a RMA." With that, Lyra called a quick "I need a refill" to Berry, and then had disappeared into the crowds by the next beat of the bass and pulse of the strobe. Vinyl eyed Berry Punch warily. The bubbly purple mare was drunk, that much was clear, but she had an unusual amount of tolerance to alcohol. By her breath, Vinyl would have guessed she’d be passed out on the floor. Instead, she was cheerful, spunky, and bubbling with mirth. Berry grabbed Vinyl by the forehoof. “Come on, let’s get ya to the equipment!” She practically yanked Vinyl off her hooves, dragging the snow-white unicorn behind her. And hyper, Vinyl thought wryly. Berry galloped into the masses of ponies, shoving moshers, tripping breakdancers, and slapping grinders on the flank as she tore giggling through the crowds with the stumbling and apologetic Vinyl in tow. Berry snorted at Vinyl, who was shouting apologies faster than the purple pony could think. It was "Sorry!" this, “My bad!" that, blah blah blah blah blah. She blew her mane out of her eyes. Newbie. They arrived at the equipment, where the current DJ sat headbanging to his mixtapes, eyes closed and rocking a baseball cap. Berry shoved him roughly out of his seat, knocking him onto the floor, and placing Vinyl his chair. When the previous owner of said chair made to protest, Berry rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut your cakehole, ya sucked anyway." She faced Vinyl. "Okay, now we wait for-" "I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" Lyra came charging out of the crowd, running over previous DJ as she went. She looked back at the unfortunate stallion. "Oops, my bad! Anyways, I got it!" She held up a small electronic chip in the air, waving it back and forth triumphantly. Vinyl quickly levitated her precious treasure out of Lyra's hooves before it could be completely annihilated. She checked the card to see if it was charged. Thankfully, it was. Residual Magical Audio cards took a while to charge with magic, and she doubted either Berry or Lyra had the patience for that. Not to mention the fact that by the time the current song was over, there would be more than a few ponies who were wondering why their DJ was laying prone on the floor. Shaking her mane out of her deep amethyst eyes, Vinyl pressed a button on the device, tapping into the magic store of the RMA where the audio was saved. A magically produced holographic screen projected in front of the snow-white unicorn, a glimmering, ethereal blue. Vinyl glanced at her companions. “Okay, what do you want to hear?” Both mares instantly pressed their cheeks against hers, crowding in to get a better look at the screen. Vinyl, sandwiched between the two, watched their eyes pore over the options. “Ooh, ooh, do Somepony That I Used to Know!” Lyra trilled. Vinyl grimaced. “No thanks. I don’t even remember why I bothered making a remix to that song.” She looked over her tracks. “How about -” Berry snorted. “This is a club, Vinyl. I don’t think lyrics are the important thing here. What’s something that really drops the bass?” “Oh! Oh! I know! Sorry for Pony Rocking!” Lyra squealed. “I loooove that song!” Vinyl looked at her askance. “No you don’t.” “Oh yeah.” Lyra tapped her hooves on her chin in thought. “How about… no, not that one… Oh, I know! Wait, no, that’s not right…” Vinyl facehoofed and was about to turn to Berry when the mint-green unicorn jumped into the air excitedly. “I GOT IT! BEEKEEPER’S FILLY!” Berry looked at Vinyl and shrugged. “Eh. Not really club music, but your call.” Vinyl grinned. “Yeah. I don't have a mix for it, but if you guys want to hear it, I'll play it.” The All-Equestrian Rejects were a popular group that she actually liked; one of a few in a handful. She made to turn on the track when a mint-green hoof stopped her. The amethyst eyed unicorn sighed, spinning in her chair. “Yes, Lyra?” Two amber orbs stared at her pleadingly. “Um, can you not have the band singing?” Lyra asked. “I mean, can you play it just with the instruments?” Vinyl tilted her head to one side, confused at the question, but nonetheless nodded. “Yeah, I can. Why do you ask?” “I want to sing!” The brightness of Lyra’s smile almost blinded the amethyst-eyed unicorn, who had to resist the urge to shield her eyes. Vinyl was about to protest when Berry walked up behind her and bumped her on flank, winking at the snow-white mare whimsically. "Don't ya worry, hon. I got this silly-filly covered." The purple pony took Lyra gently by the hoof, leading her over to the microphones. Berry gestured at Vinyl to get ready while she fruitlessly attempted to sober the mint green unicorn up. Vinyl rapidly plugged in her RMA card into the equipment of the previous DJ, adjusting various knobs and switches as she went. Her horn lit up, several knobs turning down, silencing the layers of the song that held the voices of the All-Equestrian Rejects. Her amethyst orbs glanced over the wires that connected the two microphones to the audio equipment, making sure that they were attached. Satisfied, Vinyl gave Lyra and Berry a triumphant wave, which both ponies feverishly returned. Vinyl watched as both mares swaggered up to the microphones, and she, much to her enjoyment, finally turned off the terrible mixtape. As one, every single pony in the club turned to look at her with an expression of shock, disgust, curiosity, or some strange mix of the three. Vinyl grinned sheepishly in return, glancing over at her friend and the purple pony who seemed to be busy slapping the mint-green mare back to reality. She coughed into the mic, desperate to distract everypony for the moment. “Er… hey, everypony! I’m Vinyl Scratch, and –“ “Hi, Vinyl,” said the crowd monotonously. “Erm, thanks.” She laughed nervously. “Anyways, I’m gonna be your DJ for tonight!” The cheers of the crowd were almost enough to knock her off her seat. Several ponies broke down into tears of joy, while others contented themselves with screaming “NO MORE KE$HA! NO MORE KE$HA!” Everypony remotely near to the bar raised their hooves for a celebratory drink, shouting “TOAST! TOAST! TOAST! TOAST!” Vinyl waved at the crowd nonchalantly, grinning wider and wider as she gained confidence. Fixing the mane that had become windswept in the uproar, she shouted at the masses. “You guys ready to hear some REAL music?!” “YEAH!” The roar of the drunken crowd was above deafening, cheers shaking the train. “YOU WANT TO ROCK?!” “YEAH!” “YOU WANT TO HEAR THESE MARES SING TO THE ALL-EQUESTRIAN REJECTS?!” "YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!" Everypony turned to look at the giant white stallion who stood flexing his gargantuan muscles in the center of the crowd, his tiny red eyes wide and bloodshot. His miniscule wings flapped furiously, beating the air around them with a possessed fervor as he stood panting from his outburst. A small blue pony next to the behemoth quietly inched away with an 'I-don't-know-him' look on his face. “Uh…” Vinyl blinked. “Ahem. Okay! Ladies and gentlecolts, it is my pleasure to introduce – LYRA HEARTSTRINGS AND BERRY PUNCH!” Berry let go of a staggering Lyra, who seemed now seemed slightly more sober than before. Both waved happily at the crowd, Berry blowing kisses to the roaring horde even as Lyra blew them raspberries. The pair staggered up to the microphones, tapping on them once to make sure they were on. Each mare beamed at the other before turning to give a confirmatory nod to Vinyl. She returned it, grinning in anticipation as she prepared to start the music. "Laaa, da-da da daaa!" Now! Vinyl quickly turned on the music, her smile broadening as Lyra and Berry continued to sing. Lyra walked towards center stage, Berry hanging back and allowing the mint-green mare to move into the limelight. I've been known a thousand ways- Choked a hundred hearts in half as many days… Oh no, I think so! And I get so lost inside this city: you ugly mares all look so pretty, it's true. What am I supposed to do? I still got you to wait… Look out your window... What do you see? You don't see me! The crowd's roars of approval escalated with every note, reaching a frenzy as the two mares hit the chorus together. Two stallions in the back promptly fainted as Lyra winked at them from across the room. You're a pretty little flower, but I'm a busy little bee; Honey, that's all you need to see. (Laaa, da-da da daaa!) I can take you for an hour, but then I'm gonna leave; Honey, I know you'll wait for me. (Laaa, da-da da daaa!) Berry took a step forward, stealing center stage from Lyra and grinning cheekily at the crowd. The room began to shake with cheers as the club's management took up where Lyra had left off. You're all alone but you understand that we're too young to start making plans of green: Monogamy's not a part of me. (Unh-uh!) Berry broke flow for a second to giggle at Lyra, who had slid across the floor on her knees, whamming at an air guitar with her eyes tightly shut and a cocky smirk on her face. Grinning, the purple mare returned to the song before she could get her timing off. And I know my line and it’s just a sin when I swear to you I'm gonna do it again; I'm not making any friends... I just wanted you to wait... There out your window... What do you see? You don't see me! ‘Cause you're a pretty little flower, but I'm a busy little bee… Honey, that's all you need to see. (Laaa, da-da da daaa!) I can take you for an hour, Baby then I'm gonna leave… Honey I know you'll wait for me! (Laaa, da-da da daaa!) Both mares leaned on each other, back to back, heads pointed skyward and the microphones held close to their muzzles as they shouted their drunkenness to the ceiling. Laaa da-da da daaa La-da-daaa, da-da-da-da daaa! Pulled out your picture the other day… (Oh, isn't that sweet?) You didn't have that much to say... (You wouldn't even breathe!) Cause I know, that you said I'm better off on my own and I'm better off dead… I just want you there to wait… Stare out your window! What do you see? YA DON'T SEE ME! "YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH- GO!" The two intoxicated mares gestured wildly for the inhabitants of the club to join in as the music began to slam on the guitar. With a roar of approval, everypony in the room put their hooves on another's shoulders, strangers and friends alike, grinning ear to ear. Vinyl watched ecstatically from behind her equipment. Her amethyst eyes blazed in the heat of the moment, a primal grin dancing across her features. She watched Lyra and Berry put their hooves around each other, practically shouting into the microphones as a horde of drunken ponies joined in. Dirty little flower, I'm a busy little bee! Honey, that's all you need to see! (LAAA, DA-DA DA DAAA!) I can take you for an hour, Maybe two or maybe three! Honey, I know you'll wait for me! (LAAA, DA-DA DA DAAA!) LAAA, DA-DA DA DAAA, LA-DA-DAAA, DA-DA-DA-DA DAAA! The crowd quieted. Vinyl, confused at the silence, looked up from her equipment, where she had been prepared to start up a new song. Lyra and Berry were draped across one another, muzzles locked together in a fervent kiss. The two mares were embracing warmly, their hooves traveling up and down the other pony, each caressing the other's body with a gentle passion. Vinyl's jaw dropped. The two mares pulled apart, looking into each other's eyes. Together, they sang the last line so softly that even Vinyl had to crane her neck just to catch it. "Honey, that's all you had to saaaaaaaaaaay…" For the umpteenth time that night, it was a wonder that the train wasn't knocked of the tracks by the applause. Author's Note ALRIGHTY! Got the new chapter out, and here's a link to the song. . All rights go to All-American Rejects, etc. etc. etc. Music video makes no sense in my opinion, but... meh. OH MY GOSHNESS, HAVE YOU SEEN THE SITE NOW? I looooove the new cover art. SO. AWESOME. But the site has a flipping spaz attack whenever I try to write an apostrophe on a story description. Don't know why. Spent a lot of time on this chapter, so hope you like it! And a side note- I'm gonna be making chapters 1 and 2 a little less... well, dark. I really don't see this as a dark-tagged story, and someone had suggested tagging it as one. I never really saw this as dark; it just came out that way, so I’m just gonna fix that. Try and make it a little more cheery :D . Still evil Scotch, though, don't worry. Just… more of an asshole, less of a homicidally-insane motherbucker. Or should I? I dunno. Tell me in the comments! Another point: Vinyl doesn’t have her shades yet. I'd received a couple messages from people asking that question, and the answer is Nope. I’m hoping to get to that part soon. Final point: I was a little confused on how to phrase the duet, so... well, you saw the result. If you have any constructive criticism, please, no holds barred! Final final point: Spread the word! I would, honestly, be beside myself if this were to get featured, because I truly believe that it has the potential. Like it up! Only if you think it’s worth it, though. I’m not gonna beg for likes from everyone who reads my story. Ugh. That’s just annoying. “LOLZ PLZ EVRYBDY LIK MY STRY I WRKED RLY HRD ON THIS CHPTR CUM ON PPL!” Uhh, no. Anyways, bless your faces. It’s time for me to get my sexy sleep. *YAAAAAAAWN* Nighty night.
Chapter One - A Not-so-Simple Song“Vinyl, what the hay do you think you’re doing? Get up, idiot!” Seventeen-year-old Vinyl Scratch stretched groggily in her bed. Barely bothering to reposition the contrasting dark-and-light blues of her mane, she and yawned loudly and half-opened her deep violet eyes. “Mmmph... Five more minutes…” she mumbled dreamily. Somepony jerked the sheets on her left side with so much force that she flipped out of the small, badly maintained bed and landed spread-eagle on the rotting floorboards. “Buck that. You get up when I’ll say you get up, and I say get up now.” Scotch Records downed a quarter bottle of cider before glaring distastefully at his daughter, who was still holding tightly onto her bed sheets. “Did you hear me? I said move it, you dirty pile of dragon scat! Get out of my sight!” Vinyl looked wearily at her father. He used to be a handsome stallion, his honey-brown coat, rugged brown mane and deep blue eyes attracting many a prospective mare. Now, his coat and mane were a grayish mud color, and he spent most of his days inside his old, dilapidating house, never bothering see the sun unless to gamble at the casino, drop by the bar, or buy more booze. “Listen to Scotch! Get your flank out of here before we kick it out!” Vinyl rose slowly to a sitting position and rubbed her eyes. She looked over to see her father’s marefriend standing side-by-side with him. Wonderful, she thought. Stepmom number - what, 27? - and no different than all the rest: just here for the nights. Vinyl stood painfully onto all fours, shaking her head to clear it of any drowsiness. Ignoring her two unwanted companions, she strapped on her saddlebag and silently left, the screen door slamming shut behind her. Scotch snorted. “Finally. I swear, seven hours a day is not enough.” “Definitely.” Stepmom # 27 nuzzled up to him. “I could’ve at least had a daughter with a useful talent. DJ-ing? Not really much money in that.” She rubbed her head against his neck. “That’s a shame…” she murmured softly into his ear. “But now… where did we leave off…?” Scotch got the hint and grinned wolfishly. “Hmm… I don’t remember.” He put a hoof around her waist, and she raised an eyebrow. She pulled away from his embrace and swayed towards the bedroom. “Then I guess we’d better start over, huh?” She looked back at him, eyes fluttering and a slow, playful smile creeping across her face. Her tail lifted ever-so-slightly in case he missed the tip-off. He didn’t. “You’re such a tease.” “And that’s why you love me.” Scotch breathed heavily, through his nose. “Yeah.” Wake up, here we go, cram it all down my throat, stomach’s so full that I wish I could choke. Seven AM, my head’s already in a spin. Vinyl walked down the street, ignoring the cheap salesponies trying to sell her merchandise or the beckoning of a hoof from a nearby alley. The music was all that mattered to her right now, the music that pounded through her head, that pumped through her veins thicker than any blood. There was always a song in her head - always. As soon as I’m out of that door, Damn, it hits me like a ton of those red bricks, can’t dig myself out of this highest ditch, this madness. The music helped her cope. There was nothing that could soothe her more completely than a ballad, or some heavy metal, or dubstep. Anything, really. The DJ wasn't particular. I swear sometimes, I can’t tell which way is up, which way is hell. It’s all up in my face, need to push it away, somebody push it away! So all that I can hear… is a simple song… As if on cue, the music in her head stopped as she reached the double doors that led into Manehattan Public High School. And all of the emotion came back with the absence of song. The snow-white unicorn raised her chin up high, determined not to be affected. Briskly, she guided herself through the hall, the amethyst fire in her eyes warning anypony nearby of the dangers getting in her way would cause. Vinyl had a nasty habit of taking anger out on ponies she didn't like. Unfortunately for everypony, that was a great deal of the school. Vinyl hadn't exactly had an easy foalhood - pretty much everypony in Manehattan knew her sob story. There had been no peace as a filly, constantly getting harassed by adults and foals alike. That is, until she had met - “VINYL!” A mint-green blur tackled her and pinned her to the ground. After the initial shock, Vinyl laughed. “Hey, Lyra.” Vinyl had known Lyra Heartstrings as long as she could remember. The mint-green unicorn had befriended her with a directness she never forgot. Vinyl's eyes grew foggy at the memory... Vinyl walked into the lonely little classroom, embarrassed. She knew the day was half over, but her father wouldn’t let her leave until her “chores” were finished, which consisted of scouring his room for empty liquor bottles. So she was late, and on her first day of school, too. Not to mention the fact that she smelled like stale alcohol and perspiration. The teacher, a young red mare with golden mane, didn’t even acknowledge her presence. After a few moments of awkwardly standing by the door, Vinyl spoke. “Um, excuse me –“ “There’s a seat to your left,” was the curt reply. Vinyl hesitated, then walked over to the seat the teacher had designated, which was next to a strong-looking lead-gray colt who looked at Vinyl with cruel eyes. Vinyl would much rather sit on the floor than next to this colt that looked like he wanted to punch her, but she sure as hay wasn’t going to disagree with the teacher. As Vinyl approached the chair, he gave her a smile. Tentatively, she smiled back. He gestured for her to sit. Still smiling, she made to oblige… Just as he pulled the seat out from under her. The next thing Vinyl knew, she was lying with her back on the stone floor, legs wide apart and stunned to inaction. The entire class laughed hysterically, including the teacher. Vinyl quickly closed her legs together and stood, face hotter than a noonday sun. Ashamed and embarrassed, she took her seat and buried her head in her arms. Something happens, she thought, miserable. Something always happens. She felt at tap at her left shoulder. Vinyl ignored it. No tears, she thought to herself. Tears just make it worse. Another tap. Vinyl finally glanced up. Two bright amber eyes looked kindly at her, quickly followed by a genuine smile. Vinyl didn’t return it, not trusting this other pony for a second. She had probably been in on the joke. The smile faltered the tiniest bit, then recovered. “Hi,” the mare said. “I’m Lyra. What’s your name?” Vinyl hesitated. Then…- “Vinyl Scratch,” she whispered. Lyra smiled “Hi, Vinyl!” She gestured at the colt who’d pulled the chair out from under Vinyl. “Don’t worry about Stone Rail – we’ll get him back later. He only pulls backwards pranks like that ‘cuz he doesn’t have the balls to go face-to-face.” She stuck her tongue out at the offending colt, who ignored her. “I’m thinking a swirlie. You?” Vinyl giggled, a little too loudly. “Vinyl!” The teacher turned to her. “Is there something you’d like to tell the class?” Vinyl opened her mouth, but then closed it. “I-I…” she stammered. “…Was talking to Lyra,” Lyra finished for her before addressing the teacher. “It was me, Mrs. Holly. I was talking to Vinyl.” The teacher looked aghast. “Lyra! I would think you were above interacting with this… this…” Mrs. Holly glanced at Vinyl distastefully. “…trash!” Vinyl felt herself sink into her chair. Lyra looked at the teacher for a long time, mouth partway open. She opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it. “You’re a bitch,” she had decided finally. Vinyl smiled at the memory. Needless to say, it hadn’t ended well for either of them, but it brought Vinyl to a friend she planned on keeping for the rest of her life. The golden-eyed mare leaped off Vinyl’s chest, shaking her green-and-white out of her eyes as Vinyl struggled to stand back up. “Vinyl, you’ll never believe it! I made the cut!” Vinyl’s jaw dropped. “No way!” “Way!” Lyra gave a little squeal of excitement. “I’m heading to Canterlot to meet Hoity Toity tonight!” Vinyl’s eyes widened. “…Tonight?” “Yes! Isn’t that great?!” “Yeah!” Vinyl grinned with pride. “Lyra, that’s amazing!” Vinyl knew that Lyra had been trying for years-years-to get signed by Hoity Toity’s label, ‘Equestrian Conventional.’ The fact that she finally had was beyond amazing. It didn’t even cross Vinyl’s mind to be jealous: her friend, she knew, deserved this. “And guess what the best part is?!” Vinyl rolled her eyes. “Come on, Lyra, what could be better than this?” Lyra took a deep breath, bear hugged Vinyl, and shouted at the top of her voice, “YOU’RE COMING WITH ME!” Every passerby’s curious looks at the pair as they passed was lost on Vinyl. Everything was a blur, Vinyl's mind spinning so fast that it was a struggle to stay focused on one spot for too long. Everything was a hum of shock and happiness, and she couldn’t get her mouth to close. She couldn’t even think. Lyra set her friend down. Vinyl didn't seem very enthusiastic. "Hey... you okay?" Vinyl's jaw had to work for a few moments before she could say anything. Finally, she managed a word. “Wh…what?” Lyra held Vinyl by the shoulders. “I sent one of your CD’s with mine! They loved it!” “But… isn’t it a classical label?” Lyra shook her head. “Yeah, but they said there are several ponies in Canterlot that they can send you to with good recommendations!” “Lyra, I…” Vinyl swallowed, trying to overcome the lump in her throat, trying to think with a clear mind, trying to hold back the tears of joy that were struggling to rise. Her mind tried to convey the emotion, but her mouth wouldn't obey. She laughed at herself. "I... I really don't know what to say!” “You don’t have to believe it!” Lyra shouted ecstatically. “In a few days, we’ll be in Canterlot, and you can see it for yourself!” Vinyl grinned, ignoring her stinging eyes. “I can’t wait.” Lyra paused, as if unsure about something, then asked delicately, “But… will your dad be okay with this?” Vinyl’s smile wavered. “Y-yeah, he’ll be fine with it,” Vinyl stammered. “I mean, why wouldn’t he be? Any good parent wants their kid to follow their dream, right?” “…Right,” Lyra conceded. “So, I guess just meet me at Grand Central Station tonight? Then we’ll be able to be there in… two days, I think.” “Sounds good,” Vinyl said, relieved that the conversation’s subject had changed rather quickly. “And… Thanks, Lyra.” “Don’t mention it,” The mint-green mare waved a hoof dismissively. “You would’ve done the same for me.” The bell rung. Lyra glanced up at it in alarm. "Oh, crap! I gotta get to class. See you tonight, Vinyl!" With a final wave of her hoof, the mint-green mare took off galloping down the hall. Vinyl watched her go, an irreversible smile creeping across her features. The day could not end fast enough. “You want to WHAT?!?” “Scotch, honey, could you lower your voice a little? The neighbors-” “To hay with the neighbors! This ungrateful mule of a daughter thinks she can just run off and join some salt-lick commune! I swear to Celestia, I’m gonna kick her lousy flank halfway to-” Vinyl swallowed, then hardened her resolve. Bravely standing up to her father, she interrupted with as much self-control as she could manage. “It’s not a salt-lick commune, dad, it’s an audition, a chance for me to be somepony important for once! Why can’t you ever just let me-” “I’m not gonna pay for your bail when you get thrown in prison for dealing in drugs to some idiot pony!” “Dad, I’m not going to sell-” “You’re not going to that audition, girl, and that’s final!” Vinyl’s stomach clenched involuntarily, and in an uncontrollable tide of emotion, her resistance was swept away and her eyes flashed. “Why?” She spat. “So you can just milk me for bits the rest of my life?” “Now look here-” Vinyl cut him off, not tolerating him for even a second more. The words dropped off her tongue like coals, heavy as lead and laden with hate. “The reason I haven’t kept a job, Dad, is because every time I get one, I make next to NOTHING because you make me give you my paycheck EVERY BUCKING TIME so you can spend it on booze or waste it all on that damn casino!” Her father ground his teeth. “Don’t raise your voice to me, girl,” Scotch seethed quietly. “You think I wanted a daughter?” Vinyl blinked. “Wh…what?” Scotch growled at her, like a dangerous animal unleashed from the depths of the Everfree Forest. “You. Were. An. Accident. I never wanted you. I didn’t even know you existed until you showed up on my doorstep with my name in the ‘sire’ section of your birth certificate. I looked for weeks for your mother to try and return you, but I never saw the bucking whorse again!” He struck Vinyl savagely on the cheek, and she fell to the ground. “Now get out of my sight before I decide to give you a chance to audition for Equestria’s Best Flyer competition,” he snarled. “I think out the roof would be a good place to start.” Vinyl saw stars. As she tried to blink them away, she realized she was er body shook with a savage rage. Before she even knew what she was doing, her lips were moving. “Buck you,” she said quietly. He leaned in towards her, sneering cruelly. “You. Wish,” he replied. For some reason, that final statement pissed her off more than anything else. Her hoof began to move of its own accord, traveling far behind her head. Scotch’s eyes widened as he realized what she was doing, and made to yell. What am I doing? Vinyl wondered. He’s going to kill me. But she didn’t care. It was almost done. With a scream of fury, Vinyl hauled back and slugged her father between the eyes. Scotch Records stumbled backwards, complete disbelief covering every inch of his face. The house was silent. No one said a word. Vinyl’s ragged breathing could be heard clearly, and her father opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. Finally, he spoke, the words soft at first, then bursting out with increasing speed and intensity. “You…” Scotch’s brows knit in fury. His breathing accelerated twofold with every word. “You hit me. You goddamn punk! You UNGRATEFUL HOOLIGAN! YOU REEKING PILE OF DRAGON SCAT!” As he spoke, he rushed to the dilapidated kitchen, fumbling in the silverware drawer. “I’LL KILL YOU!” After a few moments, Scotch’s hooves found purchase on a large cleaver. The enraged pony spun to face his daughter. Vinyl was nowhere to be seen, as she was already in her room the moment her father went galloping to the kitchen. “That’s right, cower in your room, you little punk! If you were in my sight another second you wouldn’t be alive for me to yell at!” Scotch’s yells were muffled through the door, but Vinyl didn’t feel any safer inside a locked room as long as she was still in the same apartment with the homicidal maniac who was her father. It took Vinyl less than five seconds to decide her course of action. Ignoring the rampaging sounds of her raging father just outside her door, she quickly packed several necessary toiletries, a water bottle, and all the bits she owned (which admittedly wasn’t much) into her saddlebag. She spun and ran to her closet, rummaging around at the bottom until she pulled out a small stack of CD's, a pair of Beats by Dr. Whooves, and the small, electronic RMA card that her tracks were stored on. She rose, unsteady, and headed to the window, where a reflection waited to greet her. Vinyl saw bloodshot eyes, wide with terror and anticipation. She saw the light-and-dark contrasting blues of her mane, ridiculously tangled, each strand intertwining with another. She saw the spot on her cheek, red and throbbing, where she had been hit. And, raising her hoof, she saw the ticket that Lyra had given to her earlier, the promise of a better life. “This is it,” she muttered. She looked past her reflection, out into the hustle-and-bustle of late-night Manehattan. It was beautiful, really, when you were far enough away to appreciate it, when you couldn’t see the dust, the decay. When you couldn’t see the poor houses or the blood spilled by gangfights on the street or some unsuspecting mare getting pulled into an alley where the unthinkable happened. Yeah, beautiful. Vinyl took one last, lingering glance around her bedroom. Not to remember it, because Vinyl was happy enough to be rid of the place. No, what she wanted was to remind herself why she was leaving. She snorted, impatient with herself. No point reminiscing, she thought. And no point waiting any longer. She silently lifted the glass window and slid out, hooves delicately making contact with the cold, rusted metal of the fire escape. Slowly and carefully climbing down, one rung at a time, she tried not to focus on how high she was, or how much it would hurt if she slipped. The second Vinyl alighted upon the ground, she paused for a moment to readjust her saddlebags, then took off galloping breakneck to Grand Central Station. Author's Note Song is “Simple Song’ by Miley Cyrus (before you criticize, there's a story). Anyway, that song was written by my cousin's (now-ex) fiancé, Gran Bel Fisher, and Cyrus bought it off of him. So, technically, it’s a Gran Bel Fisher song :) Anywho, that version I posted is the original lyrics. Thought it fit the situation. Sorry, I just went back over this chapter, plan on revising soon. All I ask is that you stick with me to the end of chapter three. If you are dissatisfied then, you can leave :) ~This fimfiction has been brought to you by the letter Q.
Chapter Two - The Shadow of the DayVinyl’s hooves clattered on the wet cement, cold and slick beneath the pouring rain. She ran faster than she had ever run in her life, racing past stop signs and dodging streetlamps as she went. Her eyes darted frequently to the shadows, as if she were afraid that Scotch Records would come tearing out of the darkness like a deranged animal, rage-filled and baying with bloodlust. Her breath came out in ragged bursts, and her lungs felt as if they were about to implode with every step she took as she galloped towards her destination, but she didn’t dare slow. She knew that to slow down even the minutest amount was to give in, and things had already gone too far out of her hooves to give in. She ran on, past the partying within club windows and the crying of the adjacent alleys. The shouts of the upper-class Manehattan ponies as Vinyl bowled them over fell on deaf ears. But nothing mattered to her now, nothing save getting to Grand Central Station and away from all of this. Then… what was this feeling that plagued her mind, its subtle nuances harrowing her already erratic thoughts? Hiding discreetly behind the bold presence of fear and adrenaline? Not regret, but… dread? What could she possibly have to dread? Lyra trotted happily along Grand Central Station’s majestic hallway, miraculously staying stable despite the slickness of the marble. Tall, ornately carved pillars rose to the ochre ceiling, where they conjoined seamlessy. A smile graced every inch of Lyra’s features, and she trotted with a slight hop to her gait. The mint-green mare couldn’t get the phone call that had changed her life out of her mind. She had answered, unbeknownst of what would change in the first five seconds of that call. Her golden eyes shined ever the brighter in the dark rain at the vivid memory, every bit of the audio crisp and clear within her mind… Hello? Hello, is this Miss Lyra Heartstrings? …Yes, this is she. Who is this? This is Hoity Toity’s secretary. HOLY SH - Er, haha, did you say Hoity Toity? Why, I did indeed, ma’am. You see, we received your application along with those CD’s you sent us. We had no idea you were a mare of such divine talent. The lyre was simply entrancing, and the mixtapes were… well, that’s not really Mr. Toity’s forte, but we would be happy to point that aspect of your musical ability to somepony who might put it to a better use. Oh my Celestia, thank you so much! You don’t know what this means to me! But, um, the DJ-ing isn’t me, it’s my friend. She really is amazing. Do you think that if she showed you what she can do, could you, um, point her out to those other ponies you mentioned? Of course. Oh, thank you so much! It’s not a problem, Miss Heartstrings. Well, Mr. Toity sends his regards, and looks forward to handling your management in the future! Just meet us at his studio in Canterlot within the next week. Pop in between ten and five, say your name, and you’ll be taken to meet Mr. Toity himself. And if you would like, you may bring your friend as well. I’m mailing you the information now. O-Okay! Oh my Celestia, thank you so much! Goodbye, Miss Lyra. Bye! Lyra grinned even wider, not minding the splashing of the rain as it soaked her fur and drenched her hooves. She almost missed the white, wild-maned mare standing by the entrance. “Vinyl!” Lyra was surprised that her friend had gotten to Grand Central Station so quickly, as her friend was well known for her chronic lateness, but she was even more alarmed by her appearance. Vinyl looked worn, ragged, and beat-up. Her mane was a mess, and something that looked like dried blood caked the edge of her lip. The panting pony’s cheek was red, as if she’d been slapped. “What happened?” Vinyl swallowed, hard. “Nothing. I-I’m fine. Let’s go.” The mint-green mare peered at Vinyl’s small bag of necessities. “That’s all you’re bringing?” She questioned, a little skeptically. “What about-” “I’ll be fine,” Vinyl snapped loudly. “Can we just go?” Lyra hesitated, worried. Vinyl looked almost… scared. Deciding against asking what the matter was, the lyrist pursed her lips. “O-okay.” She resolved to interrogate her friend about it later. For now, she just had to help Vinyl get as far away from… whatever she was scared of… as soon as possible. Vinyl nodded curtly. Lyra led the way to the train. She couldn’t get over Vinyl’s appearance. Gone was the amber-eyed mare’s high-spirited mood of moments before, replaced by a melancholy confusion. Vinyl didn’t want to talk about whatever had happened, that was clear enough. But what was she so afraid of sharing? Fights were nothing new. Lyra knew that Vinyl could probably kick a professional hoofball player’s flank if she put her mind to it. So what made this one different? She flashed her ticket to the conductor, and then stepped onto the train as Vinyl did likewise. After both mares were on board, each turned to look at her surroundings. And gasped. Beautifully intricate lace tablecloths rested over the most expensive of mahogany tables. Each table was adorned with a single fuchsia candle, not yet lit, yet still aromatic. The walls were a deep red, and the framework of the walls gilded gold. “Damn,” she heard Vinyl murmur appreciatively. “Fan-cy.” Lyra nodded, mouth still open in shock. The tickets had said first class, but neither mare could ever have expected this. “This room’s bigger than my house,” she said in awe. Vinyl ran her hooves over one of the nearby tables, then chuckled drily. “This table’s worth about three times our -” She caught herself. “…My dad’s house.” Still awestruck by her surroundings, Lyra took no notice of Vinyl’s tone, and instead focused on a small marble stage where there stood sweet little cellist playing a haunting melody. Her jet-black mane fell over her leaden-gray coat, and her bow practically danced over the strings. A musician herself, Lyra was extremely impressed at both the mare’s dignified manner and superb music. She was about to point her out to Vinyl when a waiter in a tuxedo trotted over to her. “You are Miss Heartstrings, yes?” he asked in a slight accent. “You and Miss Scratch may take a seat, if you so wish.” The well-dressed stallion bowed to the pair before gesturing at the numerous empty tables. Lyra and Vinyl exchanged a glance, then grinned. “Yes, I think we shall,” Vinyl said with an air of superiority, thrusting her nose high into the air and cantering to a nearby table. Lyra followed suit, making sure to look as snobbish as possible as she made her way to her seat. The waiter looked unperturbed, probably accustomed to rude upper-class customers, and simply nodded at them before leaving to the kitchens after a quick “I’ll be with you in a moment.” Vinyl and Lyra looked at each other once again, before bursting into peals of laughter. “Oh – haha- my –hahaha- Celestia, did you see his face?” Vinyl crowed, scarcely able to breathe. Tears streamed down Lyra’s cheeks, wetting the fur down to her neck. “It was – hehehehe- PRICELESS- hahaha!” She put on a mock serious face, frowning disapprovingly, and deepened her voice. “’I will be with you in a moment; please, don’t blow up zee train while I gossip to zee cooks about your bad behavior.’” Vinyl wiped tears from her own eyes. “Oh, Celestia, that was awesome…” Lyra grinned. “We’re such jerks.” Her violet-eyed friend sighed contentedly, more relaxed than Lyra had seen her in a long while. “Yeah.” A voice came over the intercom, a small, shining silver box in the upperhoof corner of the room. “Attention, all passengers. We are about to leave the station. Please make sure any and all luggage is onboard at the time of departure. Thank you.” Vinyl checked her saddlebag. Once again, Lyra felt a pang of worry at her friend’s small pouch of necessities, but it soon faded as she prepared to immerse herself in the immense task of going through her own personal harem of thirteen suitcases, which she spied an unfortunate stallion carrying to her from across the room, his spine bending awkwardly under the weight. Lyra beckoned for him to come over to her and he, albeit with a groan, obliged. “Set them here,” she commanded politely, pointing to her left. With a grateful sigh, the stallion toppled over. The suitcases were quickly saved from disaster by a mint-green aura of magic emanating from Lyra’s horn. The unicorn then carefully stacked them, one on top of the other, next to her chair while the offending stallion grinned at her sheepishly. Lyra waved him off with a hoof, and he gratefully retreated to the door, bolting away once he thought he was out of their sight. Vinyl watched him go with a lax grin plastered on her face. She observed him weaving quickly through the crowd, bumping into and bowling over ponies as he went, including a tall, rugged brown stallion that kicked the unfortunate orderly in the flank as he passed. Her heart stopped. She swallowed hard, not believing her eyes, but there he was… “Lyra.” Her friend smiled at her. “Yes,Vinyl?” “How soon is the train leaving?” Lyra frowned just the littlest bit. Vinyl’s tone worried her. “I-I’m not sure… Why?” Vinyl just nodded, continuing to stare out the window. Lyra furrowed her brows at her friend’s behavior. They should be having the time of their lives, and yet… Vinyl’s demeanor, both earlier and now, troubled her. She followed the white unicorn’s gaze to a rugged brown Earth Pony stallion that angrily shoved anypony in his way to his side, where they would tumble onto the ground. Lyra looked at Vinyl again, and was astonished at the change. The mare who had just moments ago been laughing with her so hard that tears streamed out of her eyes was now wearing a contorted expression of pure terror. Vinyl’s pupils were contracted to the point where they were nothing but pinpricks, and she seemed rooted to the spot, as if she feared to even move. Once more, Lyra followed her gaze, and noticed the glint of something in the stallion’s saddlebag. It looked like a knife. Lyra sprung out of her chair, knocking it over and causing a dozen or so heads to turn her way. She didn’t care; she was already sprinting to a guard that stood by the entrance to the train. He looked at her oddly, but she ignored him, already talking. “WHATTHEBUCKTHATSTALLIONHASAKNIFEANDHE’SCOMINGONTHETRAINANDMYFRIENDLOOKSLIKESHEKNOWSHIMANDSHE’SSCAREDSOPLEASEOHPLEASEHELP.” He tilted his head. “Whaaat? Ma’am, please, slow down…” Lyra took a deep breath. “That stallion’s got a knife.” She pointed him out to the guard, who looked at her skeptically. “Ma’am, I don’t-” “Look at his saddlebag,” she deadpanned. The guard did. “I still don’t…” His eyes widened. “WHAT THE BUCK!” He galloped towards the stallion she had specified at full speed, shouting as he went. “YOU THERE! HOOVES IN THE AIR!” The dangerous stallion stopped. “Who, me?” He asked innocently. “Yes, you!” By now, other guards had heard the commotion and were rushing to the scene. In but a few moments, he was surrounded by about half a dozen guards, each brandishing a dangerous-looking spear. “I’ll say it once more: HOOVES IN THE AIR!” Scotch Records did nothing of the sort. With a feral growl, he took the knife out of his saddlebag and put it in his mouth. He charged at the nearest guard, eyes blazing and slashing everywhere with his weapon. The guard easily blocked the blows with the butt of his spear, sending Scotch into an even wilder frenzy. As he struggled to make even one of his blows land, Lyra noticed five other guards sneaking up behind him. In perfect sync, each guard grabbed a hoof, save one that put Scotch’s neck in a chokehold. The guard Scotch had been trying to maim roughly knocked the weapon out of Scotch’s mouth, before delivering to him a slap that even Vinyl winced at. With the rugged brown stallion out of commission, the guards dragged him out of the station.. Vinyl let out a sigh that she had been holding for a long, long time. And though she felt safer than she had in years… Lyra sat down across from her. “Vinyl.” The white unicorn looked up dazedly at the mention of her name. Lyra’s usually soft amber eyes were hard as stone, and her forehooves were clasped tightly together in front of her. Vinyl felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was Lyra’s unhappy face. And when Lyra was unhappy, she wanted answers. And when she wanted answers… Vinyl shuddered. Lyra didn’t move. “Vinyl, who was that?” “I-I don’t-” “Don’t buck with me!” Vinyl jumped at the shout escaping from the mint-green mare’s lips. Lyra leaned forward and growled at her. “Who. Was. That.” Vinyl grew so pale that it showed though her characteristic white. “I don’t know.” “Vinyl.” Her name, said in that tired, weary tone, made her stop denying the truth. She looked at Lyra slightly closer. Her friend’s eyes may have been hard, but they were wet. Lyra’s posture was aggressive, and yet she was trembling. And though the amber-eyed mare’s tone may have been harsh, Vinyl detected the tiniest amount hurt in her voice. So, with a sigh of resignation, she told her. In the rear of the car, two mares sat on little stools around a fireplace. “How the buck do they even have a fireplace on a train?” One of the mares, a beige pony with blue and pink mane, wondered aloud to her companion. "Leave it to you to ask such a pointless question," chuckled the other mare, a leaden gray mare with a cello resting at her hooves. The first pony elbowed her friend in the side. “Oh, shut up, Octavia, I was just curious.” The other mare rolled her eyes. “Calm down, Bon Bon. You know I was just kidding around with you.” The first mare stuck her tongue out at her before speaking her thoughts once again. “How do you think we’ll do, though?” She fretted. “I mean, neither of us have met him before and-” The gray mare waved her hoof to cut her off. “Not quite true. My parents are actually quite familiar with him. I’m sure I can get them to put in a good word for the two of you.” “Celestia, Octavia, can’t a mare speak?!” But the blue-and pink maned mare was smiling. “Thanks, Octavia. I’d really appreciate that.” "You're welcome." A few moments of companionable silence passed. Then... "Octavia, I'm bored." The raven-maned earth pony sighed. "You're always bored." "No I'm not!" "Always." Bon Bon huffed. "Fine, maybe I am. But I'm reaaaally bored right now." Smiling craftily, she looked at Octavia with puppy dog eyes. "Won't you sing for me?" "No." The beige pony jumped up in shock. "What? Come on, you're awesome though!" Two violet eyes stared dispassionately back at her. "I just spent two hours standing on my hind legs playing a cello for ponies who didn't really want to listen. Why should I sing?" "Because if you sing then they'll like your music five bajillion times more!" Bon Bon grabbed Octavia by the side, waving a forehoof in front of them in a slow, dramatic arc to the right. "Just imagine: thousands of adoring fans, all spreading the word to even more ponies about the amazing cellist who not only plays her instrument perfectly, but - get this - SINGS!" Octavia blew a long breath, her cheeks puffing out to either side and temporarily giving her the appearance of a blowfish. “You always exaggerate. But...fine. What would you like to hear?” Bon Bon tapped her hoof on her chin. “How about Shadow of the Day?” “By Linkin Pony?” Octavia inquired. “That’s the one.” Octavia stood. “Ehhhhh….. very well. Just give me a moment.” The gray Earth pony lifted her cello off the floor, strapping it onto her back. After a few moments of adjusting the strap to make it more comfortable, she cantered up to the stage. Nopony nearby took notice, simply continuing to carry on with their conversations. Octavia took her beloved cello off her back, straightening it before standing next to the instrument, erect and poised. The leaden-gray mare flipped her jet-black mane out of her eyes, cleared her throat, and rested the bow on her beloved instrument. Then, setting a sweet and subtle tune, the words flowed. “I close both locks below the window… I close both blinds and turn away…” Anypony close to the singing mare stopped what they were doing to listen. Bon Bon smiled softly. She never could quite get over her foalhood friend’s voice. It was so… pure. That was the best way to describe it. Pure, unadulterated music. Mare was talented, nopony could deny that. And the cello... there was no describing the soft, soulful tones of the instrument as the deep vibrations echoed within the wood from a willow. Nothing was more relaxing... or touching. “Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple… Sometimes goodbye’s the only way… ohhh…” Bon Bon couldn’t help herself. Unexpectedly, she joined in, their voices filling the train car, everypony nearby turning their heads to listen, including a certain amber-eyed mare and her friend. “And the sun will set for you… The sun will set for you… And the shadow of the day will embrace the world in gray and the sun will set for you…” Octavia nodded at her friend, and she took over. The beige mare slipped into the song, her voice taking over where the cellist had left off as Octavia continued to keep the beautiful tones of the cello flowing. “There’s cards and flowers on your window… Your friends all plead for you to stay… Sometimes beginnings aren’t so simple… Sometimes goodbye’s the only way…ohhh…” Her voice was less refined than Octavia’s, but possessed a certain short-and-sweet quality to it that spoke in nuances and unsaid thoughts slipping insidiously past the borders of the listener’s mind. Lyra found herself entranced. She watched as both mares smiled at each other, then launched into the chorus together. “And the sun will set for you… The sun will set for you… And the shadow of the day will embrace the world in gray and the sun will set for you…” Octavia bowed and returned to her stool at the fireplace amongst roars of applause and approval. Bon Bon simply grinned and waved. Lyra turned to Vinyl, prepared to say something, but halted at her friend's expression. And, shocked as she had been at Vinyl’s admission of moments ago, she was even more shocked now. Vinyl was smiling, small rivulets of tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched the cellist take her seat. Author's Note Hey, guys! Quick author’s note, hopefully will answer any questions. For credit, yes, that was a Linkin Park song, as many of you have probably guessed :) Possibly my favorite that they’ve made. Here's a link -> Sorry for this chapter taking so long :( A few things came up, such as Tests and Life and MLP Season 3. But rest assured, I’m getting my priorities straight. Ponies first :D I guess just expect them every week, and we'll see how it goes from there. Any other questions or comments on the story, feel free to post them below! As always, constructive criticism is appreciated. ~This fimfiction has been been brought to you by TheLetterQ.
Chapter Three - Busy Little BeesVinyl Scratch stood alone at the rear end of the train, on the little metal balcony that Lyra had told her about. She watched the trees blur past the fast-moving machine, the brown and green foliage blending together and creating an unholy mix of the two colors. In the distance, snowcapped mountains peeked out from under the bulk of cumulous clouds as pegasi struggled to move the gargantuan behemoths. The sun shone down on a stream, sending a myriad of colors in all directions. Vinyl watched with enraptured fascination. Something stirred inside her, a familiar feeling that, as a filly, had accompanied her wherever she went. Insignificance. Scotch Records was a huge part of that mentality, she knew, but that didn’t offer her any consolation now. Here she was, one insignificant mare in a sea of ponies that all knew they were better than her. Nature, with her looming horizons and insurmountable mountains, was simply a metaphorical paramount to that. The unicorn’s thoughts drifted to her father. With one hoof still gripping the pristine steel railing, Vinyl took the other and brushed the bruise that still marked the underside of her eye. She grimaced. Yep, still sore. The hoof traveled to her swollen lip. That, thankfully, had mostly healed; the puffiness that had marred it the day before was reduced to a simple bump. She should make sure to thank Nurse Blue Cross later. The pain of the bruise was nothing but a reminder of how much Vinyl hated him. That much, the snow-white unicorn knew without a doubt. She knew that Scotch Records was a terrible father, and she should be glad enough to be rid of him. But… he was still her father, and she knew she should be feeling some sort of remorse… He was choked to unconsciousness and arrested, for Celestia’s sake! But she felt nothing. It was this, more than anything else, which disturbed her. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, looking past the gorgeous landscape surrounding her. It could have been fifteen minutes or fifteen hours. Time had ceased to have meaning, everything just blurred into two camps: Before and After. The mare exhaled deeply, annoyed at herself. She was in After. She should be focusing on the future, not dwelling on the past. Somepony tapped her on the shoulder. Vinyl snapped out of her reverie, raising her head in a daze to see the newcomer. “Hello.” A light gray mare stood upright beside her, stretching. “Nice night out, isn’t it?” Night? Confused, Vinyl glanced at her surroundings. Sure enough, Luna’s moon shone radiantly in the sky, and the stars twinkled with the merry brightness that the Queen of the Night thought befit her realm. The forest of pine the train passed shimmered eerily in the light of the heavens. The mountain range that had been so beautiful in the day was nothing more than a looming behemoth on the horizon, the shadowy crags and crevices that she could just make out from afar filling the amethyst-eyed unicorn with a sense of foreboding. How long have I been here? The howl of a Timberwolf cut through the air, frighteningly loud and frighteningly close. Vinyl jumped, the hair on the nape of her neck standing on end. The note hung in the air for a few moments, haunting the night with its unnatural beauty before slowly fading away into oblivion. It took her a moment to collect her thoughts. “Yeah,” Vinyl finally murmured. “Nice.” The mare laughed, and Vinyl gave a shaky smile in return. As the newcomer stood enraptured with the picture-perfect world around her, the snow-colored unicorn took the chance to look her over. She observed the elegant black mane, the slim build, the dark, smoky violet eyes, the practiced smile. And she recognized her. Vinyl wanted to say: “Hey, you’re the pony that sang yesterday! You were amazing, and so was your friend! Are you in a band? You should be! Where are you guys headed?” What came out was: “You play.” Vinyl had to resist the urge to punch herself in the mouth. But the mare giggled. “Yes, I do. And you were that mare in the back who was crying last night.” She grimaced. “Sorry about that.” Vinyl relaxed, waving a hoof at her nonchalantly. “It’s fine. It wasn’t you, anyway. It was that song…” She smiled softly, her thoughts on the lyrical magic that had been woven earlier. “Those words… they just…” She shrugged. “It was just one of those songs, you know, that perfectly explain what’s happening, and…” She shrugged again, half-smiling at the pitiful attempt to relay the impossible. The new mare nodded at her emphatically. “No, it’s okay. I know what you mean.” They both looked out at the night again. Vinyl tried watching the landscape for a while more, but quickly found her gaze wandering to the mysterious mare again. She looked as if she was debating with herself about something, her jaw grinding together and her brows furrowed in thought. A couple times she looked as if she might speak, only to shut her mouth again and resume staring at their stunning surroundings. A beat. Octavia spoke, her voice calm, resigned, and emotionless. “Look… I’m gonna be honest with you. Anypony can tell that you’re… well, let’s just say you’re not having the best day. I’m just going to take a shot in the dark and say it has something to do with the knife-toting stallion from yesterday.” Vinyl made to protest, but the Earth pony cut her off with a wave of her hoof. “So, here’s what I’m going suggest. There’s a bar on the train. There’s music, beverages, karaoke, whatever floats your boat. Your friend – that green mare, correct?- was there, too. But you need to do something. You can’t just sit here and mope, alright? You’re life isn’t out there in the woods somewhere. It’s here, going on, right now.” She leaned back against the rail, crossing her hooves as the wind whipped through her mane. “So, would you like to go?” Vinyl thought about it. In all honesty, she was worried about herself. Here she was, on a first-class train to Canterlot, and she was standing all alone on a balcony looking out at the world. She winced, realizing how cliché she must look. Vinyl sighed, looking out one last time to the beauty of the surrounding forest. “…Sure.” The leaden-gray mare grinned at her. “Amazing.” She returned to again look out at the night, breathing in the cool air as the wind whipped around her. Vinyl made to head for the door that lead inside the train when she remembered a crucial bit of information she lacked. “Wait a sec.” The mare turned, raising a confused brow. “Yes?” “You didn’t tell me your name,” Vinyl pointed out. The mare blinked. "Oh, goodness, how silly of me!" She held out a hoof to shake. "I'm Octavia, cellist extraordinaire." Vinyl returned the proffered hoof. "Nice to meet you, Octavia. I'm Vinyl Scratch. DJ... uh... rookie." Octavia giggled. “Well, at least you're honest." Vinyl laughed in return... before another tiny tidbit of information crossed her mind. "Uh... did you say my friend was in there?" "Oh, yes," Octavia replied instantly. "And she seemed to be having a wonderful time, by the looks of it." Oh, horseapples. Octavia continued to speak, oblivious of the danger that the bar, all its inhabitants, and Equestria in general was in. “Celestia, you should have seen her. Downed them like a professional. Well, until she got tipsy. Then…” Vinyl didn’t wait to hear the rest. She was already racing to the bar car, her hooves clattering on the mahogany floor, shoving passerby out of her way as she went (to the regal and dignified dismay of the regal and dignified passengers). Cries of “Oh, I say!” and “Preposterous, absolutely preposterous!” abounded throughout the train, but the galloping snow-white unicorn didn’t slow. The fate of Equestria could be hanging in the balance. Vinyl had only seen Lyra tipsy once before, at a poorly-hosted house party as a freshmare in high school, and a drunk Lyra was something she wanted to keep as an once-in-a-lifetime event. She still found some of those pictures sometimes, and each was horrifying in their own right. Anyway, Lyra had been struggling to live the humiliation down ever since. The fact the amber-eyed unicorn had even touched alcohol spoke volumes. Vinyl knew the mint-green mare either was a) drugged or b) in the presence of one knockout of a stallion. By the fact that her friend was in a bar, Vinyl assumed it was likely enough to be both. She saw a door that read ‘BAR’, engraved on a gold plaque, less than 20 paces away. Galloping towards it, she flung the door open, eyes wild and searching for a telltale flash of mint green and fleeing civilians. The sudden blast of music almost caused her to go running back the way she came. Vinyl winced. The DJ was going waaay to heavy on the instruments, to the point where it was almost unbearable. It sounds like… Vinyl tried to think of a good way to phrase the terrible mixtape. …like someone threw a few dozen of every instrument off a cliff and recorded how they sounded when they hit the ground. She nodded to herself affirmatively, then grimaced at a poorly-placed bass drop. Oh, Celestia, he's bad. The amethyst-eyed mare shook her head, clearing it of any thought save the task at hand. Right, Lyra. She tried to ignore the DJ's sorely obvious lack of skill and the pulsing of the strobe as it lit the room every color of the rainbow. The other inhabitants of the club (because this was clearly not a bar) didn’t seem to mind very much, judging by their incessant grinding as well as the giggles and moans wafting out of the nearby restrooms. Ponies fell over the stage in the rear of the room, where there sat a pony with oversized headphones nodding off-beat. When Vinyl didn’t see Lyra, she worried she was going to have to go in and check the bathrooms to make sure Lyra hadn’t cornered some poor stallion, or worse, when she heard somepony clumsily sneaking behind over the crashing of the bass and the shouts of the partying ponies. Vinyl, along with Lyra, had taken no less than six courses of self-defense classes when she was a filly, and though it had been years since she last practiced, she often could still perform the moves that had been easy for her as a foal. So it was second nature for her to leap into the air, spin, and send a flying roundhouse kick towards her assailant’s head with a wild "HIYAAAAAH!!". Lyra just ducked, giggling, the drink in her hoof sloshing out of her cup as she swayed back and forth in drunken mirth. “Fooled ya!” The intoxicated unicorn trilled gleefully. Her eyes gleamed with an unusual sheen, her smile was stretched far too wide, and the fact that Lyra was acting stupid enough to try and sneak up on Vinyl all served to confirm what Vinyl already suspected. Vinyl heaved a sigh of relief and exasperation. “Lyra! What the hay do you think you’re doing?” Her best friend giggled, hiccupped, and then giggled again. “Getting drunk, dummy, what’s it look like?” Lyra threw her head back, swigging the rest of her drink. She hiccupped one more, grinning ear to ear. “Celestia, I’d forgotten how fun this was!” Vinyl looked at the mint-green mare like she had three heads. "Um... Lyra, don't you remember the last time you were drunk? You completely lost it! Why the hay-" Lyra nodded, distracted. “Uh-huh.” The two amber orbs that adorned her face slowly began to cross. After a few moments of awkward derping, she suddenly snapped to attention again. “Wait, what?” Vinyl facehoofed, and was about to repeat herself when Lyra interrupted her. “Hey, have some beer! Not as good as whiskey, but still makes you tipsy!” The minty mare giggled. "Hey, that rhymed!" She pushed her glass towards Vinyl, smiling cheerfully, before realizing it was empty. “Oh yeah.” Lyra raised her empty cup high in the air, taking a deep breath. “BERRY!” "Yeah, yeah, don't get your nethers in a twist!" A grinning purple Earth pony appeared alongside Lyra, offering her hoof for Vinyl to shake. Vinyl obliged. "Hey, how ya doin'? I'm Berry Punch, owner of this here joint. Nice ta meet ya!" Berry leaned forward, looking over the amethyst-eyed unicorn closely, and a huge smile across her features. Vinyl shifted uncomfortably, aware of the oh-so-familiar smell of alcohol heavily lacing Berry's breath. "Heyyyyyy, you must be that Vinyl Scratch Lyra here was talkin' 'bout earlier!" She nudged Vinyl, who smiled at her, embarrassed. "Heard ya played some 'sick beats,' or something like that. Isn't that what you said, Lyra, baby?" Lyra nodded, much more rapidly than her neck should have allowed. "Yep! I said..." Her brows furrowed. "Oh yeah! I said that you played 'the sickest beats in Equestria!'" She smiled at Vinyl, who returned it, flattered. "Oh, uh, and that you would play some of your mixtapes." Vinyl's jaw dropped, eyes widened, and heart stopped all at the same time. "You... you..." she sputtered. “WHAAAT?!” Lyra waved a modest hoof as Berry cut in. "You can thank her later, bud. I'll get ya set up while Lyra nabs your tracks." She turned to Lyra. "Ya know where they are?" Lyra bobbed her head in assent, reciting her knowledge in a monotone. "In her saddlebag, hidden under the bed, stored on a 64GB RMA card." Vinyl looked at the amber-eyed mare accusingly. "How the hay did you know that?" "I looked through your things. Plus, you always store your songs on a RMA." With that, Lyra called a quick "I need a refill" to Berry, and then had disappeared into the crowds by the next beat of the bass and pulse of the strobe. Vinyl eyed Berry Punch warily. The bubbly purple mare was drunk, that much was clear, but she had an unusual amount of tolerance to alcohol. By her breath, Vinyl would have guessed she’d be passed out on the floor. Instead, she was cheerful, spunky, and bubbling with mirth. Berry grabbed Vinyl by the forehoof. “Come on, let’s get ya to the equipment!” She practically yanked Vinyl off her hooves, dragging the snow-white unicorn behind her. And hyper, Vinyl thought wryly. Berry galloped into the masses of ponies, shoving moshers, tripping breakdancers, and slapping grinders on the flank as she tore giggling through the crowds with the stumbling and apologetic Vinyl in tow. Berry snorted at Vinyl, who was shouting apologies faster than the purple pony could think. It was "Sorry!" this, “My bad!" that, blah blah blah blah blah. She blew her mane out of her eyes. Newbie. They arrived at the equipment, where the current DJ sat headbanging to his mixtapes, eyes closed and rocking a baseball cap. Berry shoved him roughly out of his seat, knocking him onto the floor, and placing Vinyl his chair. When the previous owner of said chair made to protest, Berry rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut your cakehole, ya sucked anyway." She faced Vinyl. "Okay, now we wait for-" "I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" Lyra came charging out of the crowd, running over previous DJ as she went. She looked back at the unfortunate stallion. "Oops, my bad! Anyways, I got it!" She held up a small electronic chip in the air, waving it back and forth triumphantly. Vinyl quickly levitated her precious treasure out of Lyra's hooves before it could be completely annihilated. She checked the card to see if it was charged. Thankfully, it was. Residual Magical Audio cards took a while to charge with magic, and she doubted either Berry or Lyra had the patience for that. Not to mention the fact that by the time the current song was over, there would be more than a few ponies who were wondering why their DJ was laying prone on the floor. Shaking her mane out of her deep amethyst eyes, Vinyl pressed a button on the device, tapping into the magic store of the RMA where the audio was saved. A magically produced holographic screen projected in front of the snow-white unicorn, a glimmering, ethereal blue. Vinyl glanced at her companions. “Okay, what do you want to hear?” Both mares instantly pressed their cheeks against hers, crowding in to get a better look at the screen. Vinyl, sandwiched between the two, watched their eyes pore over the options. “Ooh, ooh, do Somepony That I Used to Know!” Lyra trilled. Vinyl grimaced. “No thanks. I don’t even remember why I bothered making a remix to that song.” She looked over her tracks. “How about -” Berry snorted. “This is a club, Vinyl. I don’t think lyrics are the important thing here. What’s something that really drops the bass?” “Oh! Oh! I know! Sorry for Pony Rocking!” Lyra squealed. “I loooove that song!” Vinyl looked at her askance. “No you don’t.” “Oh yeah.” Lyra tapped her hooves on her chin in thought. “How about… no, not that one… Oh, I know! Wait, no, that’s not right…” Vinyl facehoofed and was about to turn to Berry when the mint-green unicorn jumped into the air excitedly. “I GOT IT! BEEKEEPER’S FILLY!” Berry looked at Vinyl and shrugged. “Eh. Not really club music, but your call.” Vinyl grinned. “Yeah. I don't have a mix for it, but if you guys want to hear it, I'll play it.” The All-Equestrian Rejects were a popular group that she actually liked; one of a few in a handful. She made to turn on the track when a mint-green hoof stopped her. The amethyst eyed unicorn sighed, spinning in her chair. “Yes, Lyra?” Two amber orbs stared at her pleadingly. “Um, can you not have the band singing?” Lyra asked. “I mean, can you play it just with the instruments?” Vinyl tilted her head to one side, confused at the question, but nonetheless nodded. “Yeah, I can. Why do you ask?” “I want to sing!” The brightness of Lyra’s smile almost blinded the amethyst-eyed unicorn, who had to resist the urge to shield her eyes. Vinyl was about to protest when Berry walked up behind her and bumped her on flank, winking at the snow-white mare whimsically. "Don't ya worry, hon. I got this silly-filly covered." The purple pony took Lyra gently by the hoof, leading her over to the microphones. Berry gestured at Vinyl to get ready while she fruitlessly attempted to sober the mint green unicorn up. Vinyl rapidly plugged in her RMA card into the equipment of the previous DJ, adjusting various knobs and switches as she went. Her horn lit up, several knobs turning down, silencing the layers of the song that held the voices of the All-Equestrian Rejects. Her amethyst orbs glanced over the wires that connected the two microphones to the audio equipment, making sure that they were attached. Satisfied, Vinyl gave Lyra and Berry a triumphant wave, which both ponies feverishly returned. Vinyl watched as both mares swaggered up to the microphones, and she, much to her enjoyment, finally turned off the terrible mixtape. As one, every single pony in the club turned to look at her with an expression of shock, disgust, curiosity, or some strange mix of the three. Vinyl grinned sheepishly in return, glancing over at her friend and the purple pony who seemed to be busy slapping the mint-green mare back to reality. She coughed into the mic, desperate to distract everypony for the moment. “Er… hey, everypony! I’m Vinyl Scratch, and –“ “Hi, Vinyl,” said the crowd monotonously. “Erm, thanks.” She laughed nervously. “Anyways, I’m gonna be your DJ for tonight!” The cheers of the crowd were almost enough to knock her off her seat. Several ponies broke down into tears of joy, while others contented themselves with screaming “NO MORE KE$HA! NO MORE KE$HA!” Everypony remotely near to the bar raised their hooves for a celebratory drink, shouting “TOAST! TOAST! TOAST! TOAST!” Vinyl waved at the crowd nonchalantly, grinning wider and wider as she gained confidence. Fixing the mane that had become windswept in the uproar, she shouted at the masses. “You guys ready to hear some REAL music?!” “YEAH!” The roar of the drunken crowd was above deafening, cheers shaking the train. “YOU WANT TO ROCK?!” “YEAH!” “YOU WANT TO HEAR THESE MARES SING TO THE ALL-EQUESTRIAN REJECTS?!” "YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!" Everypony turned to look at the giant white stallion who stood flexing his gargantuan muscles in the center of the crowd, his tiny red eyes wide and bloodshot. His miniscule wings flapped furiously, beating the air around them with a possessed fervor as he stood panting from his outburst. A small blue pony next to the behemoth quietly inched away with an 'I-don't-know-him' look on his face. “Uh…” Vinyl blinked. “Ahem. Okay! Ladies and gentlecolts, it is my pleasure to introduce – LYRA HEARTSTRINGS AND BERRY PUNCH!” Berry let go of a staggering Lyra, who seemed now seemed slightly more sober than before. Both waved happily at the crowd, Berry blowing kisses to the roaring horde even as Lyra blew them raspberries. The pair staggered up to the microphones, tapping on them once to make sure they were on. Each mare beamed at the other before turning to give a confirmatory nod to Vinyl. She returned it, grinning in anticipation as she prepared to start the music. "Laaa, da-da da daaa!" Now! Vinyl quickly turned on the music, her smile broadening as Lyra and Berry continued to sing. Lyra walked towards center stage, Berry hanging back and allowing the mint-green mare to move into the limelight. I've been known a thousand ways- Choked a hundred hearts in half as many days… Oh no, I think so! And I get so lost inside this city: you ugly mares all look so pretty, it's true. What am I supposed to do? I still got you to wait… Look out your window... What do you see? You don't see me! The crowd's roars of approval escalated with every note, reaching a frenzy as the two mares hit the chorus together. Two stallions in the back promptly fainted as Lyra winked at them from across the room. You're a pretty little flower, but I'm a busy little bee; Honey, that's all you need to see. (Laaa, da-da da daaa!) I can take you for an hour, but then I'm gonna leave; Honey, I know you'll wait for me. (Laaa, da-da da daaa!) Berry took a step forward, stealing center stage from Lyra and grinning cheekily at the crowd. The room began to shake with cheers as the club's management took up where Lyra had left off. You're all alone but you understand that we're too young to start making plans of green: Monogamy's not a part of me. (Unh-uh!) Berry broke flow for a second to giggle at Lyra, who had slid across the floor on her knees, whamming at an air guitar with her eyes tightly shut and a cocky smirk on her face. Grinning, the purple mare returned to the song before she could get her timing off. And I know my line and it’s just a sin when I swear to you I'm gonna do it again; I'm not making any friends... I just wanted you to wait... There out your window... What do you see? You don't see me! ‘Cause you're a pretty little flower, but I'm a busy little bee… Honey, that's all you need to see. (Laaa, da-da da daaa!) I can take you for an hour, Baby then I'm gonna leave… Honey I know you'll wait for me! (Laaa, da-da da daaa!) Both mares leaned on each other, back to back, heads pointed skyward and the microphones held close to their muzzles as they shouted their drunkenness to the ceiling. Laaa da-da da daaa La-da-daaa, da-da-da-da daaa! Pulled out your picture the other day… (Oh, isn't that sweet?) You didn't have that much to say... (You wouldn't even breathe!) Cause I know, that you said I'm better off on my own and I'm better off dead… I just want you there to wait… Stare out your window! What do you see? YA DON'T SEE ME! "YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH- GO!" The two intoxicated mares gestured wildly for the inhabitants of the club to join in as the music began to slam on the guitar. With a roar of approval, everypony in the room put their hooves on another's shoulders, strangers and friends alike, grinning ear to ear. Vinyl watched ecstatically from behind her equipment. Her amethyst eyes blazed in the heat of the moment, a primal grin dancing across her features. She watched Lyra and Berry put their hooves around each other, practically shouting into the microphones as a horde of drunken ponies joined in. Dirty little flower, I'm a busy little bee! Honey, that's all you need to see! (LAAA, DA-DA DA DAAA!) I can take you for an hour, Maybe two or maybe three! Honey, I know you'll wait for me! (LAAA, DA-DA DA DAAA!) LAAA, DA-DA DA DAAA, LA-DA-DAAA, DA-DA-DA-DA DAAA! The crowd quieted. Vinyl, confused at the silence, looked up from her equipment, where she had been prepared to start up a new song. Lyra and Berry were draped across one another, muzzles locked together in a fervent kiss. The two mares were embracing warmly, their hooves traveling up and down the other pony, each caressing the other's body with a gentle passion. Vinyl's jaw dropped. The two mares pulled apart, looking into each other's eyes. Together, they sang the last line so softly that even Vinyl had to crane her neck just to catch it. "Honey, that's all you had to saaaaaaaaaaay…" For the umpteenth time that night, it was a wonder that the train wasn't knocked of the tracks by the applause. Author's Note ALRIGHTY! Got the new chapter out, and here's a link to the song. . All rights go to All-American Rejects, etc. etc. etc. Music video makes no sense in my opinion, but... meh. OH MY GOSHNESS, HAVE YOU SEEN THE SITE NOW? I looooove the new cover art. SO. AWESOME. But the site has a flipping spaz attack whenever I try to write an apostrophe on a story description. Don't know why. Spent a lot of time on this chapter, so hope you like it! And a side note- I'm gonna be making chapters 1 and 2 a little less... well, dark. I really don't see this as a dark-tagged story, and someone had suggested tagging it as one. I never really saw this as dark; it just came out that way, so I’m just gonna fix that. Try and make it a little more cheery :D . Still evil Scotch, though, don't worry. Just… more of an asshole, less of a homicidally-insane motherbucker. Or should I? I dunno. Tell me in the comments! Another point: Vinyl doesn’t have her shades yet. I'd received a couple messages from people asking that question, and the answer is Nope. I’m hoping to get to that part soon. Final point: I was a little confused on how to phrase the duet, so... well, you saw the result. If you have any constructive criticism, please, no holds barred! Final final point: Spread the word! I would, honestly, be beside myself if this were to get featured, because I truly believe that it has the potential. Like it up! Only if you think it’s worth it, though. I’m not gonna beg for likes from everyone who reads my story. Ugh. That’s just annoying. “LOLZ PLZ EVRYBDY LIK MY STRY I WRKED RLY HRD ON THIS CHPTR CUM ON PPL!” Uhh, no. Anyways, bless your faces. It’s time for me to get my sexy sleep. *YAAAAAAAWN* Nighty night.
