The room was filled with an ambient electronic beat. It was rather different from what DJ-Pon3 usually played. It must have been something special that Prestige asked for. Rarity maneuvered over towards the living room couch again to sit and listen to One Trick Pony’s track. Soft vocals humming and cooing filled the air. It was more pop than she expected. At this point, the DJ woke up from behind the turntables and wandered towards the white mare. The artist flopped next to the designer and stared at her. She then opened her mouth, almost struggling to say something.
“So…” DJ started, “you and One Trick…”
Rarity stayed silent except for an awkward cough.
“Wow…” she trailed off. An awkward moment overcame the both of them. The DJ got up and rummaged through the table to find her sunglasses.
“Wait…” the DJ paused, “you’re name is Rarity right?”
“Why yes, dear,” Rarity said through gritted teeth.
“Oh my…” DJ-Pon3 started to say. “Then… this song…”
Rarity softly nodded. She knew where the spastic pony was about to steer the conversation to.
“Excuse me, DJ?” Rarity asked, “what’s this song about. I can’t make out him singing… it… doesn’t sound like… him.”
“I’m sorry, call me Vinyl Scratch,” the blue mare said. “ DJ-Pon3 is my stage name. Besides, I like my original name better.”
“Okay… Vinyl…” she replied with a hinted smile.
“Well, Rarity…” Vinyl started to say, “The reason you can’t tell its him, is because there is a heavy vocal distortion. Strong reverb with some use of a Vocator.” Rarity had a blank expression across her face. She had no idea what the DJ was talking about. “Well, besides that. This song…” Vinyl trailed off.
“This song what, dear?” Rarity replied. Vinyl had a solemn, hesitant look. Finally she mastered to her words.
“One Trick P-… I mean Prestige…” she said faintly, “ Prestige said that this song was based off of his past. For where he came from.”
“Yes? And?” Rarity jumped to attention.
“Its… not exactly the most pleasant song…” Scratch continued. “It’s all about his addiction. His… love… his love addiction.”
“I’m confused, what do you mean?” Rarity asked inquisitively.
“Us musicians… if you want to call us that. Some consider us more of technicians who know how to make sound,” she lightly giggled. Rarity didn’t understand her humor. The smile melted from the DJ’s face. “Us musicians aren’t exactly the best idols. We sometimes do things that… that please us.”
“You mean…” the white mare pointed to her nose. Vinyl nodded her head.
“I’ve been fourteen months clean now,” Scratch replied. “But… I can’t say the same for Prestige. He said it got really bad when he was in Ponyville. He kept blaming it on his ex. That she…” the DJ stopped dead in her tracks. An awkward moment suspended in the air between the two of them.
“That she what?” Rarity came back with.
“She had this… control. He couldn’t “breathe” around her,” Scratch said. “He was trapped, but still deeply loved her. He loved you… and he couldn’t watch you watch him fall from grace.”
Rarity gazed into the distance. Her knees grew weak, forcing her to sit back down. Breathing became heavy, Rarity leaned forward to keep herself conscious and alert to the song.
“Prestige was deeply in love, that he became isolated. He was lost, in a sea of rarity...” the blue musician replied. “Huh… fitting title,” she murmured to herself.
But Rarity wasn’t listening to the DJ. She had to think. Their relationship was very strained. They, nay, she was controlling over him, but why. It couldn’t be from… It was. Her anxiety had originated from the Manehattan Fashion Institute…
***
It was a rough period for Rarity at the Manehattan Fashion Institute. She was always forced to work, never had a free moment. And when she did, it was impossible for her to reach the actual city. She was situated deep in the suburbs of the Broncs. The projects she worked on always had a toll on her. More and more, she could feel herself loosing herself.
“NO!” Rarity shouted. “You do not mix green with purple!” She bolted towards the projects table, where three other students were working.
“This outfit is meant to follow for our fall design. You do not add an earth tone with purple!” the white pony said in frenzy. Her eyes darted around the room, staring down her partners. The young, green filly slowly pulled back from the mannequin, removing the green from the ensemble.
“I’m… I’m… so… sorr-“ the green pony was interrupted by a storming Rarity.
“NO! You just don’t understand! Green is an earth color. Meant for summer or bland outfits,” Rarity scolded. “Purple is a fall color which best illustrates the ensemble. And furthermore is the sign of royalty!”
“Rarity,” the red male unicorn began to speak. “We need to account for our models hide…” he trailed out.
“Stitch!” The white pony turned her head to look at the red unicorn. “I’ve been doing everything in this group, and now you decide to get involved?” She scolded him.
“IT’S NOT MY FAULT THAT YOU’VE OVERPOWERED EVERYONE!” Stitch fought back. Rarity was steaming, and Stitch infuriated. The green filly coughed to break the uncomfortable tension.
“It’s not fair on anyone, Rarity,” Stitch began.
“Leave,” she replied bluntly.
“Fine. Suit yourself,” the red unicorn said. He flipped the projects desk over and walked over to where the green filly was standing, and knocked over the mannequin.
“You don’t want to stay here with her,” he whispered into ear. The green filly rapidly shook her head. She was in a panic over the whole situation.
“We are not going to be held down by your rules, Rarity. Everything isn’t all about you…” Stitch and the green filly left the room. Enraged, Rarity threw materials across the room, breaking chairs and objects. She flung a chair across the room into one of the coffee makers. That coffee maker was able to get them through long nights, but not this night. Where had she gone wrong?
“Who needs them anyways,” she shunned to herself. “It was me, I did all of the work! They did nothing!” But Rarity stopped herself mid-thought. Why had she done everything? It was team effort, yet, she had deemed herself in charge because everything needed to be within what her standards were.
“Oh my stars, what have I done…” she lamented to herself quietly. She stood over the cacophony that once was a workroom. Her stressful environment had changed her. She was no long a filly of free spirit. Rarity’s mind-set had changed, changed to a more efficient, but sometimes detrimental towards relations attitude. The white pony erased all of her conflicting emotions, and continued the fall collection…
***
Prestige had just stormed out of Sapphire’s apartment. He was worked up. Rarity knew how to throw him over the end. She was exactly like he remembered. Even though they were not together anymore, nor had they seen each other for years, she was still able to control his life. Everything around him was finally blissful again, though. His head was slightly weighted, but his body was numb and smooth moving through the crowd again. With his mood like this, he was able to cope with his social status, even though it seems quite egotistic of him. But he was a model for the public now. He wasn’t supposed to have a core anymore…
But what was left of him, he was amazed. Prestige had had a troubling life before he moved to Ponyville. Ponyville was his failed escape from his past. A past that haunts him everyday…
***
“Run! Run! Run! Run!” Prestige yelled to his friends. Him and a couple other colts were dashing through the downtown streets. It was a cold day, many years ago. Back when Prestige was growing up in Manehattan. It was just past midnight, and it was past curfew for the fillies and colts. The colt and his friends were up to no good again. Darting between alleyways, the three colts were able to evade the Manehattan Police Department. One of the friends, a brown earth colt, ran across the street and dove in a bush. He was completely out of sight.
“Oi, Pres, Raider,” the brown colt exclaimed silently, “over here! C’mon!” Prestige looked over at his friend Raider, a lanky black unicorn, and quietly agreed to cross the street.
“On the count of three, Pres,” Raider whispered. Prestige nodded back. “One… two…” Raider jumped up and ran across the street. “THREE!” he shouted as he bolted towards his incognito friend. Prestige, in shock, jumped up and followed him. They laid low for a quarter of an hour in the bush. The police were on to them being out. And the police knew they were up to something.
“AY, watch it Roadie…” Prestige whispered to the brown colt. He reached out and bit into Roadie’s leg and dragged it into the bush. “We don’t want them to catch us, do you?” Roadie shook his head.
“How much longer until we get there?” Raider asked looking at Roadie.
“We wait until the cops are gone,” Roadie began, “before we go to the place, okay?” Raider was hesitant, but compliant. After a long wait, the three colts emerged from their hiding.
“Follow me,” Roadie said. They crept through the night until they came up to a shady apartment complex. Several windows were broken, along with graffiti. They were obviously in a bad part of Manehattan. Showing no hesitation, Roadie walked straight into the building.
“Whoa!” Prestige exclaimed. “What are you doing?” Roadie stopped in his tracks. Without turning back he stated,
“Wait here… I’ll be back.”
Twenty minutes had passed before Roadie came out again. But this time his eyes were glassy and he had a nervous bead of sweat running down his forehead. The brown colt walked straight past his friends, ignoring their words of worry. Roadie turned himself around and saw them. They were taken back at how spaced he seemed. He began to laugh.
“Follow me if you want to have fun,” he said in an alien voice. The colt turned around and started racing into the darkness. Prestige and Raider chased after him, unsure of what his plan was. They skimpily follow behind him, but Roadie was off in his own world. After a while, they finally ended up at a dilapidated playground, an eerie reminder to Prestige about his hard childhood. A broken seesaw, like his mother’s broken love for him, her support for him. A missing swing from the entire set, just like his absent father from all of his friends. Their dads were always there. At this point, Roadie sat down in the center of the playground, on the edge of the sandpit.
“Okay, I got it…” Roadie said. He routed around his pockets and pulled out a small bag of white powder. Both Raider and Prestige looked at the brown colt.
“Are you insane, Roadie?” Raider shouted. “You know how screwed we’d be if the cops came by now?”
“It’s not like we wouldn’t be screwed over if they caught us anyways.” Roadie retorted. “We’re just punks to them. Hell, Pres has been arrested a couple times.”
Prestige pulled back. He did not want to get involved in the conversation. The white colt had been caught on a couple of occasions shoplifting grocery stores. He couldn’t hold it back.
“Keep me out of this, Roadie!” Prestige shouted. His nostrils were flared. “I needed to feed myself! You know I was kicked of the house at that time!”
“Chill out, man,” Roadie replied. “I’m just sayin’. If we’re screwed, might as well go out having fun. Am I right?” Roadie then looked up at the black colt. Raider shook his head, after he turned to Prestige.
“Pres, you don’t have to do this…” Raider said softly. Prestige didn’t respond.
“Fine,” the black colt stated. He hung his head low and disappeared into the darkness. That was the last time Prestige ever saw Raider. The most stable friend he had ever had. He heard that Raider had gotten caught that night breaking curfew. That was his third strike, getting him thrown into Juvencolt Detention, which gave him time to really analyze what he wanted to do with his life. By staying away from Roadie. At no matter what cost.
Prestige watched as Raider left his life. He then returned to Roadie.
“So tell me, how’s the best way to take this?” Prestige asked.
“Oh, don’t even get me started on that, Pres!” Roadie replied.
***
Prestige had been living a lifestyle of destruction for almost two years now. He had dropped out of school and was working ditch jobs here and there, but never a solid job to keep a somewhat of a steady income. He eventually moved in with Roadie in a tiny, destroyed apartment. They were struggling to make ends meat, but enough to get their fix. Every couple of weeks, they would trade off on who needed to head out and buy their next baggie.
“Hey Roadie!” Prestige shouted from the living room. Roadie slowly walked into the living room, trying to avoid the trash that littered the floor. Their addiction was really taking a toll on them. Roadie was nothing but skin and bones now. He had stopped taking care of his appearance, and his mane started to fall out. Prestige wasn’t doing to well himself either. His coat was matted and his mane in tight notes. He smelled horrible.
“What do you want, Pres…” Roadie said.
“I bought last week…” Prestige began, “so, try to-“ he was cut off.
“Try to get some for tonight, yeah I know. I gotta go hustle for work now,” Roadie said. He barely made it towards the door. “I’ll see you later.”
But that was the last time Prestige saw Roadie. Rumor on the street was that after work, he went looking for their next fix. But he ran into the wrong people. But Prestige rather believe his own deduction, that Roadie skipped town. It was at this point he realized his life was truly failing. That next day he checked into Oaks Care Rehabilitation Center. Prestige had to force himself to get clean. A fresh start. It was there that his counselor suggested that he get out of Manehattan. Start anew somewhere else. The great thing about his counselor was that he was able to find a job for Prestige. It didn’t offer him much, but it was far out of Manehattan. A job as a lifter for a moving company, and it offered Prestige a stable income, what he desperately in need for. Prestige agreed, and by the end of the month, he was moving out to Ponyville, to start a new life. A better life.