//------------------------------// // Same Song, New Dance // Story: A Song to Remember // by IAreBrony //------------------------------// In the darkness, a deep throbbing pumped. While many were not phased in the least by the guttural pulse, one being was. It pervaded her sleep and dove into her mind like the jabbing of a thousand tiny pins, causing her closed eyes to scrunch together in blatant pain. However, this mare was struggling to tell the difference between the beating of the bass and the pounding in her own body. As her senses slowly flowed back to her, she felt something wet pressed against her cheek, as well as the sensation of being upside-down. Ever so gently, she eased her eyes open, slamming them shut immediately to protect her suffering retinas from the assault on her optic nerve by the Celestia-blessed sun. Attempting to swallow the pain, she quickly realized that she neither had enough saliva to swallow, nor was she in a position to swallow. Throwing caution to the wind, her eyes rocketed open. The bright sun and violent pain were plenty to blind her for several seconds as she adapted. She found herself indeed upside-down, her hind legs dangling above her head, which was pressed into the drool-soaked carpet. Thankfully, it was her own drool. Rolling to her left, or maybe her right, her sense of direction was gone with her strange positioning, she found herself quickly on top of something soft and warm. Looking down, she found a pale yellow mare lying on the floor with her head turned to the side. While the mare wasn't necessarily ugly, far from it, actually, the pony who found herself lying on top of the mare couldn't help but turn her lip up in disgust. Under the mare's nose was a thin powdering of something white, a sign that perhaps that particular mare was one to shy away from. Gingerly, the mare on top planted her hooves and rose shakily, taking in her surroundings carefully. All around the bedroom were mares and colts, all passed out from whatever semi-legal activities had occurred the night before. One colt seemed to have gotten his head stuck inside the air duct, which was no small feat considering that most foals would struggle to fit in that cramped space. Turning her head the other direction, the mare saw three other mares blacked out on the bed, tangled in a mass of blankets and sheets, the pillows long-since having been cast onto the floor. Judging from the way they cradled each other, she had to guess that they were more than just simple friends. Walking carefully toward the open door, which seemed to be blocked over by some form of blanket, the mare explored the rest of her current residence. Beyond the brown sheet on the door frame, there were at least thirty other ponies scattered about what appeared to be an apartment. Here and there, ponies had found the oddest ways possible to fall asleep, one curled up under the table and another sleeping on top of the stove. Against one wall was a large flat-screen television, which faced a wooden table and a couch. On the couch lie a colt with two mares with their faces still next to each other in the colt's crotch. His head was rolled back and to the right, exposing a dark tattoo climbing up his brown neck. The mare's breath caught in her chest as she looked at the table. Except for the legs, it was impossible to discern the color for the top was covered in a thin coating of white dust and liquor bottles. Her head swiveling quickly, she took stock of the ponies in the room. Perhaps only one or two of them lacked broken white mustaches that marked the users of the devilish substance. Swallowing, or at least attempting, the mare backed up into the bedroom and began looking around. In one corner of the room sat a door slightly ajar, showing a hint of reflection inside. Frantically, the mare ran to the bathroom and flicked on the light switch. Surprisingly, the room was void of other beings, leaving her alone with her reflection. She looked in and found herself staring back. Her bloodshot eyes were only a tint lighter than her irises, giving them a drastic contrast to her paper-white coat. Thankfully, her muzzle was missing the feared "drug-stache" as she was now referring to them as inside her head. Her electric blue hair stuck out in all directions, even wrapping itself around the horn protruding from her forehead. In the reflection, she saw a mare stumbling toward her. She was one of the mares who were tangled up in the sheets, the mare noted. The new mare trotted into the bathroom and threw herself onto the back of the first mare. Lazily, she leaned her mouth up to the mare's ear. "Coming back to bed?". Her voice was little more than a whisper, but it hit with the force of a runaway train. The white mare turned back to the mirror and placed a hoof on it, her reflection mimicking the act. Her chapped lips opened slightly, her eyes never leaving their own reflection. With trembling lips, she uttered but one question: "Who am I?". Octavia disembarked the train in Las Pegasus as if it were an ordinary occurrence. To everypony else, she was naught more than a passenger, which was more than fine with her. The less ponies recognized her, the less they could get in her way. The less they got in her way, the less time it would take her to find Vinyl and get her back home. Trotting off the train, she had head down in thought, not exactly looking where she was going as she bumped into somepony who must have stopped in front of her. She shook her head and muttered an apology as she continued walking, but quickly found she couldn't walk any further. Turning around, Octavia saw the kindly old stallion from the train holding onto her tail with his mouth. She stopped attempting to walk away and instead turned around to look at him. "Pardon me for stopping you like that, but I was urgent to stop you before you got too far," he said, abashedly rubbing the back of his thinning mane. "I just never got to ask why a pony like yourself would be headed to a. . . City such as this." The look of disgust as he looked around the glittering high-rises was plain enough, and Octavia sighed sadly. So much for nopony getting in my way. . . "My, umm, associate has gone missing somewhere in this place and I need to bring her home," she said, trying not to reveal too much to this stranger. "And this 'associate', is she incapable of coming home herself?" Octavia hung her head disappointedly when her explanation wasn't enough to quell the stallion's questions. "I suppose she is, but my, err, entourage needs her direly, and I'm afraid we, I mean, they weren't on the best terms when she left," Octavia stuttered, mentally kicking herself for the flaw in her speech. The stallion smiled sweetly at her and took a few steps toward the cellist. "I'm sorry to hear that. Any idea where Vinyl Scratch is now?". Octavia's eyes met the old stallion's eyes and took a cautious step backward. "Who said anything about Vinyl Scratch?". Octavia's heart hammered as she realized her story had been unraveled so easily. The stallion chuckled and placed a hoof on Octavia's shoulder. "You two may not be headline in the tabloids, but there certainly has been buzz over one of Canterlot's most esteemed cellist moving in with a disc jockey of all things. I know it may come across as a bit strange and more than a little unnerving that somepony who has never met you before today knows such thinks about your life, but I only want to help. I seen far too many relationships demolished in this. . . Well, it's a cesspool, really, but that's not the point. The point is that I can tell there's something about you. Not just who you are, no. I can tell this isn't one of those relationships that gets broken up so easily, so there must be some reason behind you coming all this way in search of your partner," he said solemnly. "So, what happened between you two?" "You see, I want to get married," Octavia said, looking the old stallion in the eyes as she lifted her teacup to her lips. "Now? We hardly even know each other, I mean don't you think it's a little soon?". He laughed at his own joke and even Octavia couldn't suppress a giggle, though she did punch him in the shoulder for it. "Okay, so you want to tie the knot. What's so wrong about that? Equestria's quite the free nation, and while some ponies may not be too kind toward ponies of your preferences, there's not much they can do to stop Celestia's law. So what's the problem?" Taking another sip of her Earl Grey before heaving a sigh, Octavia prepared to explain. "Vinyl has. . . Other ideas," she muttered. The stallion nodded thoughtfully in return. "So you want to take the plunge, but she's not exactly on board for your trip down the river. What's so bad about that?" Octavia threw her hooves up in the air exasperatedly. "Precisely! What's so hard about just talking about it like two civilized ponies?". She grumbled angrily, which elicited another nod from the aged colt. "So you told her you wanted to get married, and when she said she didn't want to, you two ended up arguing over it. I'm guessing it never got any better, so Vinyl ran away to Las Pegasus to get away from the heat," he summarized wisely. Octavia blinked as she realized that a practical stranger had deciphered her cryptic responses to nearly spot-on assumptions. "More or less, yes. That was quite impressive, by the way," she admitted. The stallion shrugged and looked out the window to the sidewalk far below. "I might just work on trains, but I've had my share of experiences with love, too," he replied quietly. Octavia desperately wanted to know more, but she was behind schedule and something told her that if the stallion wanted her to know more, he would have told her. Looking back to his new acquaintance, he continued, "Well, the way I see it, it's a big city and any job that can be done by one pony can be done even faster with two. Any idea where she went?". Octavia was about to object just as an old saying came to mind. Never look a gift horse in the mouth. Before this, she had no idea how that would ever make sense, being that Vinyl had assured her after many a late night that there was, in fact, nothing inside her mouth, but a sudden clarity settled on the grey mare. "Upper Eastside Gentlecolt's Club. She had a performance there last night, so they might be able to tell us where she went to stay. Or knowing Vinyl, which back room she passed out in," she said unhappily. The old stallion nodded as he paid their bill. "Well, we best get to it," he said, sliding out of his seat. As soon as they were both standing, he extended his hoof toward Octavia. "Call me Han, by the way." Vinyl sat on the concrete stairs that led into the apartment building, staring at her trembling hooves intently. She thought as far back as she could, but always came up blank. Her last memory was always waking up on the floor of that same apartment, as if she had sprung up out of the ground last night. Nopony inside was any help, they barely knew their own names in their drug-addled state, which left her sitting on the front steps alone. Her hooves were rough, but still cared for, as though they saw frequent use as well as nurtured care. She searched for a word to compare them to. "They're like. . . Instruments," she muttered to herself, and something in her mind seemed to click. She saw flashing lights, dancing ponies, a wondrous fire, and elegant turntables that moved to her every whim. She had no idea where or when these memories came from, but she was so exalted at her breakthrough that she was on her hooves and dancing in seconds. "Well, you're certainly in a good mood this morning," a voice behind her said. Opening her eyes and turning around, she found the brown colt with the neck tattoo scratching his chin lazily as he leaned against the doorway. He was the one pony who she had been unable to wake, and she nearly thought he was dead until she checked his pulse. She rushed over to him have grabbed his shoulders. "Woah, you're certainly feeling better after that trip to the hospital," he said with a laugh, which caused Vinyl's brow to furrow in confusion. "Hospital? Why the hell was I in the hospital?". "You don't remember? Well, I guess you were pretty drugged up there for a while. . . When you were up on stage yesterday, you had a bit too much to drink and fell off the side of your platform. Busted your dome pretty bad, but they got you all stitched up at the hospital and sent you on your way," he told her. She only got more confused. "Platform? What platform? Why was I on a platform?". The colt leaned his head back and looked into her eyes suspiciously. "You- really don't remember, do you?". "Remember what! I don't remember anything," she cried furiously, to which he laughed. "Jeez, I knew last night was insane, but I had no idea it was that off the hook. So you don't remember last night at all?". His question nearly made Vinyl slap his stupid earrings right off his stupid head, but she calmly took a breath because he was giving her more answers than anypony else had been able to. "No, no, no. You don't get it. I don't remember anything," she told him forcefully, and the recognition dawned on his face like the sun dawned over each morning. "You mean like anything anything? Like nothing at all?". Vinyl nodded slowly as the colt pulled away and ran a hoof through his short-cropped hair. "Oh shit. Oooooooh shit. Oh shit!". He opened his mouth and gestured toward her, but then quickly turned away and started pacing up and down the sidewalk again. Once again, he stopped to point a hoof out to her with his mouth agape before starting to pace again while muttering something to himself. "Okay, okay, okay. Let's see. You're Vinyl Scratch. You're a DJ, and a damn good one at that. You were at a gig last night, and I guess that fall knocked a few screws loose or whatever," he stammered anxiously. "So what are you, like my manager? My coltfriend? Brother?". He started waving his hooves wildly as she spoke. "Nonononononono! No. I just met-- Wait, did you say manager?". Vinyl had no idea what was going on, but a shit-eating grin broke out on the colt's face. "Yeah! I'm your manager. You rocked it last night. Let me tell you, Vinyl, you're going places. Big places. Last night probably put you on the map, so let's get that pretty face of yours out there," he told her, to which she responded by looking down at her hooves again. I'm a DJ? Well, that would explain what I remembered. . . I guess if he's my manager, he would probably know what's best. What's the worst that could happen? She thought to herself as she nodded gently. "Alright. Yeah, let's do this," she said with an eager smile. The colt practically seemed like her wanted to jump for joy when he heard that, but settled for just crushing her with an intense bear-hug. As soon as he let go, she pointed a hoof at his face. "But we need to go to the hospital first and check out what they got on me. The more I remember, the better," she said, to which Tails put his hooves up in a defensive manner. "Hey, I got no reason to stop you. Just, uhh, come to this address when you're done there. I need to grab a coffee," he grumbled, passing her a piece of paper with an address on it. She nodded and started down the street slowly before he called her name. She turned back to see him pointing in the other direction. "Hospital's that way, babe," he told her, which caused her to blush, mutter her thanks, and start walking again. As he watched her walk away, his face broke into a grin that seemed to split from ear to ear. "And just like that, I'm back in business," he said to himself before starting his leisurely stroll toward the coffee shop.