//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2 - Club Neon 
// Story: Dry Spell 
// by StickySyrup 
//------------------------------//


Chapter 2 - Club Neon


The time was 10:23pm. The streets outside Neon were busy and cold. Not only that, but the night decided it would be funny to compliment his failure with an icy cold wind and light rain. He shivered in the bustling crowds, breathing in the smells of cigarette smoke and stale alcohol. Spitfire was late, to no surprise. However, he had expected this and had himself arrived fashionably late. When he got there he lined up. The pegasus decided it would be nicer to wait in the warmth of the club rather than the line. Just as he entered the line, a familiar voice called out to him:
“Hey there he is! SOARIN’ let us in!” Spitfire yelled as the warm coloured pegasus mare budged her way through the crowd. A light blue and white unicorn followed her closely. He recognised her as her friend Bluewave. She was a pretty unicorn, with tight curves and a complimenting colour scheme. Her bright green eyes were like small emeralds shining in the line as she got closer to Soarin’. They joined him and Spitfire bear-hugged her best friend. He responded with an equally as pressured joke hug lifting her off the ground, causing her to cough and laugh. He put her down.
“Hey, you must be Soarin’!” Said Bluewave. Her voice was solid and confident as she held out a hoof in a formal manner. Soarin’ shook her hoof in response, introducing himself. They smiled at each other as the line moved up towards the bustling club.
Soarin’ noticed that they were both looking really sexy. Their manes had been worked on for what must have been hours, and that was before their make-up. He shook his head quickly as the line progressed to rid himself of the sexual thoughts that surfaced. A large male stallion got bucked from the club by a bouncer, making the three laugh. It was however unnerving to Soarin’ as it only illustrated the pinnacle of failure in the deep end of the social pool. The large door opened in front of them, greeting the group with the humid mist of the club, along with the booming thud of bass. It was an exciting experience. After entering and securing their possessions behind the desk, Bluewave went to the bathroom. Soarin’ and Spitfire entered the main dance floor.
It was dark, noisy and busy. Very busy.
The crowd was in full swing, moving with the energy of the music, like leaves caught in a current. The swaying motion coupled with the progressive trance music made Soarin’ feel euphoric (and slightly dizzy). They walked over to the corner of the club where a large table and booth had freed itself up. He sat down with his best friend.
“So, seen anypony you like?”
He laughed and looked around, desperate to find any mare to call his ‘target’ so Spitfire would stop asking questions.
“I guess she’s pretty cute” He said, pointing to a lime green unicorn.
“Wow, your standards have lowered.” She replied with a giggle. Soarin’ laughed along. It was true; he knew the lime green pony was out of his league. Out, and under. He could do better than that.
“What about the one behind you on the table to the left?” He motioned, Spitfire turned around to see a blue and black mare in full, romantic contact with another mare.
“Good going, genius. Pick the only lesbian mare in here. I’m sure that’ll work.” She said sarcastically, with a small laugh.
Frowning at his disappointment, he scouted the dance floor for another target. A unicorn crossing the edge of the room caught his eye. She was levitating a tray of drinks above her head. The black silhouette of the pony shifted majestically across the dance floor. Her body moved like a liquid that had Soarin’ in another daydream. It was an awesome sight.
“That one there!” He said pointing, knowing he has chosen well.
“Err… which one?” Asked Spitfire, confused. Before Soarin’ could respond, the mysterious mare came into view. It was Bluewave, carrying over the first round. He suddenly felt the blood rush to his head as the embarrassment took over.
Oh shit! What if Spitfire saw me pointing at her friend? It’s Okay, calm down. There’s no way she could have seen. He reasoned with himself as Bluewave sat down. She put down four shots of a clear liquid and two shots of a strong smelling, chestnut coloured liquid on the table with her deep blue magic.
“These are for you, and these two are for me.” She said.
Spitfire laughed “How can you drink whisky straight? Seriously Blue. That’s nasty!”
“You know me Fire, I HATE vodka!” Replied Bluewave.
Soarin’ eyed the unicorn with interest. She was generally fascinating. What started out as a mundane interest in a regular mare has turned into somewhat of a fascination for him. He craved to know more about her. Obviously, she wasn’t your ordinary club attendee and that just drove his questionable mind onwards. Spitfire cradled her two shots and lined them up in front of her. Soarin’ did the same. The clear liquid smelled strong, almost like an adhesive. He knew the smell well.
“Alright, vodka to start then?” Spitfire questioned.
“I guess so.” Soarin’ replied. “Should we just down em?”
Before he could answer, both Bluewave and Spitfire had downed their drinks. Feeling out-gunned, he did the same. Putting his mouth over the glass, he threw his head back, allowing the cold liquid to burn its way down his gullet. The warmth that followed made him shiver and his coat tingle. He took the second one straight after, and the burning sensation doubled. He coughed once, tasting and swallowing his alcoholic saliva. The vodka had made its way up to his head almost instantly. Spitfire cheered as he placed the glass back on the table. He smiled as he remembered the joys of drinking. It wasn’t something he indulged in on a regular basis, but it allowed him to free himself up for just one night, which he cherished.
“I'll get the second round.” Soarin’ offered. He got up and made his way over to the bar, mood improving. This was going to be a good night.