Professionalism

The Flank Slammer was located in the heart of Manehattan, where the nightlife thrived, the conmen thrived more, and the nightclubs (and drunks in them) were plentiful. “Here we are, Mistah Lock! The Flank Slammer. That'll be twenty bits.” The stallion fished around inside of his mother's purse, taking twenty bits and placing them in the stallion's bag. "Have a nice night, you two!" The carriage puller watched as the mare made her way into the club. "So, you're the lucky stallion that's tappin' that, huh?" The stallion felt his eye twitch, and he proceeded to give the puller a death glare.

“I'm not married to her, I don't plan on getting married to her, and I certainly don't want to be associated to her. She is, in all senses of the word, repulsive. Now look; I know that I am going to Tartarus if and when she comes out of there and I am not there to guide her back. So I do hope we have an understanding, yes? You wait here, and the moment she gets out of there, grab her, place her in the carriage, and GO.” The irritation was evident in his voice and his twitching, narrowed eyes. “And by Luna, if you happen to take some other mare to my home, I will find you and gut you like a fish. Capisce (Do you understand?)?” The carriage horse widened his eyes at the maestro, who looked like he was just about to snap.

“Alright, alright! Sheesh...I was kidding.” A nervous laugh from the stallion before he sat down, smiling uneasily as the maestro walked off angrily.

Of course. The night I return, something amazing happens. What happens after? I get stuck foalsitting my own mother. Wonderful. Simply wonderful. The bouncer gave a nod to the mare walking in...and looked at Step, an eyebrow raised. You've got to be kidding me. I was practically a regular here, given how often the old lady drank! He growled and looked the bouncer in the eyes.

“I don't want to start anything, but I need to make sure that my mother doesn't go off and kill herself.” The bouncer raised an eyebrow at the maestro, who now had discarded any form of his professionalism out of frustration. “Hey. You. Does the name 'Step Lock' ring any bells? Do you have any idea who I am? 'Cause if you don't, I won't just be known as a conductor, I'll be known as the stallion that will send you to the damned hospital.” The bouncer simply sighed, looking at Step with a rather cocky grin.

“Your funeral, kid.” And just as their hooves were about to go up, an employee walked out, gripping the bouncer's hoof and looking him in the eyes.

“Rough Edge...this was the guy we were talking about. You can let him in.” And with a grumbling of something about hospitals and height, the bouncer reluctantly opened the door with the maestro just as reluctantly walking inside.

I have a migraine, and I've just entered this place. This is going to be a long night... Step looked around at the nightclub; dazzling strobe lights were practically blinding him, and smell of alcohol, sweat and shame filled the air...

Thankfully, there was no music, at least...not quite yet. It seemed that either the DJ was late or they were switching DJs; he was thankful for that much. There's not much to do at the moment, and I'm glad for that. The black maned stallion glanced toward his mother and simply smiled, seeing her drink. Good. That'll keep her occupied for a while. I don't quite intend to stay here, not when they're changing their acts... He began to swiftly make his way across the crowd, having spotted a door on the other side.

Entering, he looked around as he walked slowly, carefully. Alright! It smells a lot less here...in fact, I'd say it smells pretty good. Is someone cooking something? The stallion walked forward curiously, his eyes wandering about the rather large, dark area. Odd. This doesn't look like a kitchen of any sort... He then proceeded to lean on what he thought was a wall... “Well, I suppose I can just-”

It wasn't. In fact, it was a door, and Step just so happened to bump muzzles against an off white coated mare. And there it is. The one thing that can make my night worse! He felt a blush come onto his face as he began to stammer and panic. “I-I-” And like a flash of lightning, Step felt a hoof slam against his forehead.

“W-What the hell?! What are you doing in my tech room? I didn't call for anyone!” The stallion held his ground, rubbing his forehead as he backed up slowly, bashfully.

“Augh...n-no, wait! I didn't mean to-” Another punch to the face, the cheek this time. “Wait, please! Let me explain myself!” Step started to plead; hitting a mare was never something he wanted to do, and he damn sure wasn't going to start now...even though his forehead and mouth were bleeding a little.

“You have ten seconds before I call security, creeper! What, do you want an autograph? Or are you another crazed fan, waiting for me to arrive? Honestly!” The stallion took out a handkerchief from his coat pocket, dabbing away at his blood.

“I...I'm here to just watch over my drunk, idiot mother, alright? I just happened to stumble upon the backstage area, thought that door was a wall and accidentally bumped muzzles with you, alright?” He took a step forward, the frustrations of the night starting to get to him as his courage to speak his mind unleashed!

“I didn't mean to do anything. I didn't mean to see you, I didn't mean to even get to know you! For the love of Tartarus, I don't want to be here! I'm allergic to alcohol, for the love of Celestia! And ever since that one good thing happened to me tonight, after a year of traveling Equestria, I come home and I have been pelted with crap. Foalsitting my goddamned mother, having the carriage puller think we're dating, having the guard hassle me because he was new and didn't know who I was, and now, this. So if you want to call the guards, fine! *Do me the goddamned favor!***” The colt was in tears at this point as he stomped a hoof on the ground, his eyes wide as he glared at the DJ, who managed to remain surprisingly calm despite Step's ranting.

“Whoa, there...look, I'm sorry I overreacted. That was my bad.” The colt's rage had simmered down into a guilty sadness as his mind began to function properly once more. She hadn't quite done anything to wrong him; in fact, she was quite right. Barging into her tech room, even by accident, was still something he hadn't even properly apologized for... “Hey...wait, are you crying? Come on, ya filly...it seems like you've had a long night. Long year, from what you've told me.” She soothingly rubbed his back. Celestia, this guy's really sensitive. A year out in Equestria? Man, he doesn't really act like it.

He started to calm down, looking at the ground bashfully and out of embarrassment. “Dear, I seem to be crying. That's...that shouldn't be happening for a stallion of my age. Not in public...” He cleared his throat, his eyes bloodshot and his throat in desperate need of water. “I apologize, that was completely rude on my part.”

“Hey, don't sweat it. I'm at fault as much as you are; you ended up bumping your muzzle to me, I ended up overreacting to an accident. It's cool...and besides, I shoulda thought. I mean, you don't see a stallion in a suit going to a nightclub every night, do ya? At least, I sure don't.” A small pause followed as she gave him a glass of water telekinetically, Step eagerly downing the cup in response. “My set's in ten minutes from now; everything's set, and I was just lounging back here. It's my first big gig, this place...can't wait. I'm a bit nervous, but man...after this, the name DJ-PON3'll be spreading like wildfire.” Step had calmed down, his throat opening up a bit more to let him inhale and exhale without struggle. “You ain't too bad. What's your name, suit?”

“It's Step. Step Lock...wandering Maestro of Equestria, and newly appointed Maestro for the Royal Orchestra and Choir.” A small smile appeared on his face as he brushed his coat a bit. “I'm going to Canterlot in three days to get my title officially. It was the good thing I mentioned earlier, and...wow, I still can't believe it. Working for royalty.” His small smile turned into a large grin as he got up from his seated position.

Vinyl smiled at the stallion, her trademark shades still on. “I'm glad for ya, filly. Really, I am. Maybe you can send some of that cash over to me?” There was a small chuckle from the maestro as he decided to get a little more comfortable, leaning next to her.

“Perhaps. Depends on how much I earn, really. I may be paid in bits, or in benefits...but sure, why not? I mean, I know that it's a terrible time to be a musician, especially with all these newcomers stepping up...” The DJ gave Step a rather blunt look, Step quickly managing to stumble back as he began to stammer.  “H-Hey, it works to your advantage. If you've got something new, that's great. I'm just saying that there's a lot of competition out here, is all.” The mare shook her head, gently ruffling his mane.

“You're a weird filly, y'know? But I like ya.” Vinyl looked over her equipment, and then towards Step with a smile. “Step, was it? How's about you and I have a drink or two after the show? I know that you're allergic, but hey...think of you as being my eyes and ears. I can hold my liquor, but I might have a teeny tiny bit too much.” Step got up alongside Vinyl, looking at the dance floor.

Well, I suppose it would be better than foalsitting the drunk mare that'll just puke on me. Besides...rough and blunt as she is, she's plenty good company. But as much as I hate it, that mare is still my responsibility... His smile turned into a small grimace as the thought of his mother destroying the (relatively) miraculous night he was having. “But...Vinyl, right? I know it sounds really stupid, believe me, I'm the one saying this. But I need to look after my drunk mother.” There was a laugh from the disk jockey as she patted his back lightly.

“Oh, you're rich. You really are a weird filly, silly!” There was a small pause as Step looked Vinyl eye to eye without a trace of sarcasm or lightheartedness. “...Oh. You...you're serious. You're really serious-you need to take care of your drunk mom. I didn't believe it before, and I really can't believe it now...that's really the reason why you're here?! Hah! Well, 'least that explains the suit. No wonder you're dressed like that, you probably just came from something important.”

“Talking with the Princesses after my show, actually. Nice guess.” A quick knocking was heard coming from the door.

“Hey, DJ! Your show's gonna start! You done with that stallion that came in here?” A blush from both Step and Vinyl as the stallion rose before feeling a pressure suddenly weighing him down; telekinesis holding him still for a bit.

“Yeah!” She looked at him with a grin. “He's a friend of mine! Came here to see me personally! I'm letting him stay in the tech booth while I work my stuff, so don't mind him!”

“Gotcha! You're on in just a bit!” Hoofsteps could be heard going outside into the crowd.

Step looked at the mare, who simply smiled as she ruffled his mane. “Well, filly...I'm up. I'll see you here after the show, ya got that?” His russet eyes softened as he rose, gently patting his back and pulling her in for a hug.

“Knock them all dead. And if they aren't dead by the time it's over, I'll do the job for ya.” The mare blushed as she was hugged, letting out a small giggle from the rather morbid joke as she walked out...

Alright, Scratch. First big gig. You ain't gonna mess this up.

“Let's get this party started!”