Wub
I watched Vinyl pace back and forth, not bothering to hide my amusement. Bassy music from Night-Glo’s speaker systems boomed from below us. I sat with my back to the balcony overlooking the dance floor on the first floor, sipping at my drink. We were alone up in the VIP area, discounting the bartender and bouncer, giving Vinyl plenty of room to pace.
“I thought you weren’t nervous,” I teased. Vinyl had been asked to return today for a meeting with Midnight Oil after she dropped off a new song the day before. Naturally he hadn’t told her why, giving her an entire day to spin herself into more and more wild scenarios.
“I’m not nervous, but what if he has to tell me that his mother is a changeling and is making him shut down the club to return to the family business of collecting blood!” Vinyl shot back. She returned to the table long enough to drink deep from my glass - she’d already had over half of it already - before continuing to pace in front of me.
“That makes even less sense than the sentient fish people living in a lake underneath the mountain threatening to flood the club through the bar taps,” I replied.
“It’s totally possible.”
“You read it in a comic.” I glanced at a small neon clock stashed behind the bar. “It’s almost time, you should sit and take a breath, calm down a little. Do you want me to go with you?”
Vinyl did as I suggested, breathing out hard enough to flutter the napkins held in the center of our table. “Thanks, Tavi, but I’ll probably be fine. I’m just glad you came out here with me.”
“And have you lose your job because you jittered through the floor?” I teased some more. “Of course I came.”
She glanced over at the clock on the bar and nodded. Before I could react, she’d grabbed my drink and finished it off. I tried to protest, but the clink of glass on wood drowned me out. “Well, it’s time.”
“You better be fast, you owe me a drink,” I grumbled, but I waved her off as she walked down the narrow flight of steps back to the first floor.
The bartender caught my eye by raising another drink up in the air. I nodded in thanks and walked over to grab it, and ordered something for Vinyl as well. With a little effort they both made it to the table full, and I settled in to wait.
I turned in my seat to keep an eye on the stairs up, and one focused on the club below. The dance floor slowly filled with ponies as the night grew longer, and I grew slowly more concerned. After nearly an hour she finally came back.
She slowly trundled back to my table and plopped into the seat closest to the stairs. “How’d it go?” I asked.
Vinyl didn’t answer until she’d drained nearly a quarter of her drink in one go. “He, uh, really likes the work I’ve done so far. I guess in the last few months there’s been a lot of ponies hanging around between DJ sets,” she answered hollowly.
“That’s great, but…” I continued fishing, waiting for the other horseshoe to drop.
“He wants me to actually DJ a set, early in the night.”
I gasped and clapped my hooves once. “Vinyl! That’s fantastic! When?”
“Tomorrow.” She drained the rest of her glass.
“Oh…” I slid my untouched drink over to her. “That seems pretty short notice.”
With her drink empty, she started nursing mine. “Yup.”
I let her sit for a few minutes, watching as she slowly filtered through the results of her meeting. I remembered how overwhelmed I’d felt after being accepted into Canterlot University’s Student Orchestra, and even more so as our first show loomed over the horizon. It wasn’t my first performance, unlike for Vinyl, but it was still paralyzing.
“Do you think we should head back?” I asked her as the drink neared empty.
Vinyl looked out at the dance floor, then to the clock behind the bar. “Not yet. I want to see something first?”
I was saved the trouble of asking what when the current DJ ended his set. Unlike normal, the house music didn’t kick on. A small path formed on the dance floor as Midnight Oil effortlessly moved through the throng of ponies. He took the stage and a microphone before turning to face the crowd.
“Good evening, everypony. I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves,” he said. The crowd answered in cheers and stomped hooves. “I am truly glad to hear that. I interrupt Lemon Drop here to make an announcement. Tomorrow evening’s performance by Lowt3k will be performed by a newcomer, DJ-P0N3. She may sound familiar to you all, because she also was kind enough to mix much of our house music.”
Midnight Oil waited several seconds while the cheering died down again. I spent those watching Vinyl’s face slowly flush. “DJ-Pony?” I asked, smirking.
“Shut up,” she replied, pouting. “I needed some kind of stage name. It wasn’t my idea.”
“What was your idea?”
Somehow, she managed to sink further into her chair. “Shut up.”
We left shortly after the announcement. On the way home Vinyl extracted a promise from me to come with her for support. After we got back on campus, and I agreed, she disappeared into her dorm.
I asked Symphonia for help with a dress when I returned home. If I was going to support Vinyl, I wanted to do it right.
The next day I went to collect Vinyl at the time we agreed on. I had to resist the urge to fidget in Symphonia’s dress; I wasn’t used to wearing something like this in the first place, and it didn’t quite fit right anyway. It took about half a second for Vinyl to open the door after I knocked. She threw open the door and froze.
After a few long seconds of Vinyl all-but openly staring at me, I poked her.
“You’re wearing a dress,” she squeaked. “Is that really you, Tavi?”
“Of course it’s me! More importantly, why aren’t you wearing something?” I shot back, trying to hide my mounting embarrassment.
“That’s not P0N3’s style. I got these,” she shook her glasses, “and that’s it.”
“Leaning into that now, are you?”
Vinyl pushed past me into the hall. “Let’s go.”
I shrugged and fell in step beside her. “Are you nervous?” I asked as we left the building and set off towards town.
“Yeah, a bit,” Vinyl admitted. “It may not be an amazing time slot, but it’s still Saturday night. I know how all this is supposed to fit together in theory, but I’ve never done it live before.”
“I understand. I still get pre-show jitters too,” I said. “But really the only way to do this stuff is to get up there and do it. Practicing cello is actually different from playing in front of ponies. You get so focused on what you’re doing when up on stage. I tend to purposely zone out, or I know I’m going to make mistakes.”
Vinyl dodged around a pegasus staring at the ground. “Really?”
I nodded. “It’s really silly too, because I know the music and how it all fits together. I’m just never sure if I’ll be able to do it until I actually do. If I could just practice forever, that’d be perfect.”
We rounded the corner onto Night-Glo’s street. Even this early in the afternoon, there was already a small line outside the door. Vinyl laughed. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t just practice forever.”
“But if I just practice, I can’t make a mistake,” I argued. We nodded to the bouncer and gave our names. He checked a list and let us inside.
“I gotta check in with the boss man,” Vinyl shouted over the music once we entered the club proper. “Meet you in the lounge?”
“That’s fine,” I told her. We walked together to the back door by the main bar which opened into the middle of a hallway. One way lead over and up to the lounge, while the other lead to Midnight Oil’s office.
We parted at that intersection. I was about to turn down the path to the lounge when raised voices down the office hallway caught my attention. I poked back around the corner, nearly running into Vinyl in the process, to see a stallion and mare pair leaving Midnight Oil’s office. Uncharacteristically, even he looked flustered as he stuck his head out of the office doorway.
“And I’d thank you not to bring your business back here,” Midnight Oil growled. “I don’t care what your two-bit hack of a DJ has to say, nobody who performs in this club steals music. Not that the same can be said for ponies in other’s employ.”
“You…” The stallion of the pair growled back.
It looked like he was going to step forward and hit Midnight Oil, but the mare put a hoof out to stop him. “Leave it. If Oil here wants to let that sort of rabble in his club, so be it. Just means it’s our job to spread the word.”
I barely managed to pull a stunned Vinyl back around the corner before the pair turned around. We waited silently as they slammed the door back into the club open, only daring to move when the door quietly clicked back home.
Before we could move again, Midnight Oil walked around the corner as well. He shook his head and straightened his suit. “Some ponies.”
“Were they talking about me?” Vinyl asked, her voice thin.
Midnight Oil nodded. “Unfortunately.”
“Who were they?” I asked.
“The owner of The Underground, Updraft, and his star performer, After Image.” Midnight Oil shook his head again. “They were simply here to try to tell me how to run my own business. It’s no matter, Vinyl. They can blow hot air all they want, but we have the originals of the music they claim you ‘stole,’ and after the excellent set you’re bound to put on, they can complain all they want. Nopony will listen.”
“Yeah… Yeah! This time, Hazelblossom can’t steal my stuff and call it his, and once everypony sees me kill that stage, they’ll know he was lying the whole time.” Vinyl pumped a forehoof and readjusted her glasses. “I got this.”
<><><><><>
“I don’t got this. Tavi, help,” Vinyl whined. The two of us were standing in a small hallway behind the main stage. The last DJ before Vinyl had left a few minutes ago. She was waiting for the go ahead to take the stage and get set up for her first song.
“It’ll be fine,” I reassured her. “I’ll be right back here, just like we talked about.”
Vinyl had wanted me to be on stage with her, but both Midnight Oil and I agreed that it wasn’t really necessary or feasible. He had provided me a chair and a drink back here though, in a place within line of sight of the DJ table.
“What if I mess up? What if they hate it and me and I never get a job again and—”
I quickly shoved a hoof against her mouth before she could spiral even further down. “If you make a mistake, cover it up. If they hate you, work to be better next time. If you go out there like this, it’s just going to be worse. Take a breath,” I ordered.
She did so, nearly choking when the nearby employee called a two minute warning. I smiled at her and took the glasses off her face for a second. “You got this,” I told her.
Her eyes closed for several seconds. I felt a gentle tug on the glasses in my hooves, so I let them go. They slid right back into place on Vinyl’s muzzle as the employee called her to stage. She turned towards the small set of steps leading upwards with that small cocky grin I was used to seeing and slowly ascended to the stage.
I took a seat in my chair. “Break a leg, Vinyl,” I whispered to the empty backstage hallway.
It was difficult to really hear what was going on back where I was. From my time in the various back hallways of the building, I knew there must be some sort of sound suppression. The music came through well enough from the gap that lead to the stage, but it didn’t have the same impact as it would have on the dance floor or even up in the lounge.
Even with the deadened sound, I could hear the excitement in Vinyl’s voice as she took the stage. I watched closely as she started playing, making sure to smile whenever she glanced my way. Honestly, I have no idea if what she was doing was right or even done well. The bits of the dance floor I could see around Vinyl and her machines seemed to be seizing at the proper rate, but I had no real frame of reference.
What I could see clearly was Vinyl slowly growing more and more confident. I watched as the various lights of the club bounced off her coat and glasses, drowning out the light of her horn as she deftly flicked knobs, switches, buttons, and whatever else she had to do. It was oddly engrossing, not quite like watching Mother play with her normal improvised perfection, but not totally different either.
As Vinyl’s final song drew to a close, I joined the crowd in cheering her off stage; though I was much quieter. I clapped politely as she walked the entire way across the stage. She picked up speed towards the end and jumped down the stairs, practically crashing into me in the process.
“Nailed it!” she shouted, throwing her hooves around me. “How’d I do?”
I pulled her out of the way of the club’s employees as they mounted the stage to prepare whatever was coming next. “I think you did fantastic,” I told her.
We stood awkwardly in the cramped hallway. I could barely move between the chair up against my hind hooves and Vinyl practically hanging from my shoulders. What little light we had filtered in from the neon lights decorating the dance floor. She was very warm, like Mother or Symphonia after performing under spotlights for hours. It surprised me a little, since Night-Glo didn’t have any big spotlights anywhere in sight.
Vinyl breathed heavily in my ear, out of breath from her sprint, or maybe just excitement from finishing her first set as a professional DJ. Her sunglasses hung askew from only one ear, dislodged from our collision. She stared into my eyes for a few seconds, her smile slowly started to slip away.
I was about to ask if something was wrong when she darted forward and kissed me.