"Enjoy the moment of passing time, enjoy the moment of a kite flying in the sky! Enjoy the moment of a naughty smile, and crack up laughing when everything goes fine!"
Rara's voice rang out clearly over the crowd at the Apple Pie in Your Eye, carried by the piano melody that she was summoning from the ivory keys. Backing up her music was a low droning and whooping from Rain Rhythm's didgeridoo, the Aborigineigh swaying in her wheelchair. Next to her, Bobby Baseline blasted out a counterpoint on his trumpet, and Phillip ran his hooves up and down his saxophone as they swung into the chorus.
Phillip kept his eyes closed, one hoof tapping against the stage floor. He could feel the rhythm through his hooves, the vibrations running up his spine to his head: his heart thumped in time to the beat, his breath controlled to carry the music. A quick inhale on the rest, then push it out slowly, let your hooves move on their own. Instinct and memory brought the tune to life, sometimes following his parents' improvisations, sometimes carrying them along with him.
Rara whooped as the song ended, and the bar burst into applause and cheers. Phillip released the reed from his mouth and smiled as the sound washed over him. He, his parents, and Rara all bowed, accepting the crowd's laudation.
"All right, we're going to take a quick break, so don't go away," Rara announced into the microphone before hopping off stage. She trotted over to the bar, where a smiling Applejack greeted her with a warm kiss. The matching golden rings that each more wore around their neck glinted in the light.
Phillip smiled briefly at the sight as he hopped off the stage.
"That was a great run, boys," Rain commented, her wheelchair humming as she carried herself up to the edge of the stage. The wheels of her chair glowed blue as she activated the levitation charm, gently floating off of the stage and onto the floor.
"I sometimes wish we could be on stage all the time," Phillip admitted. "Never have to worry about anything."
"So do I, son," Bobby said, giving him a brief squeeze. "But the real world calls."
Phillip nodded. "Speaking of which, I need a cig," he said, noting the itch in his throat. He proceeded out the front door and headed off to the side, away from where ponies would entering and exiting the tavern. Ponyville in the Moon of Grain was warm and wet, the air smelling of the river, with evenings blessed by a scarlet and orange sunset. Smiling to himself, Phillip pulled a fag out from his pocket and stuck it into his mouth.
"Mind if I join you?" Rara asked, stepping outside.
"Nah," Phillip said, flicking open his lighter and igniting his cigarette. He sucked in a breath of the mint flavor, held it in his mouth for a moment, then exhaled it slowly, turning away so the light wind wouldn't blow back in her face.
"How have you been?' Rara asked.
"I've been..." Phillip braced himself knowing that the wave of memories was coming, but they came all the same. The sunset turned into an unnatural crimson, the buildings faded away to leave behind only the doors, standing like trees. He felt, more than heard, the thing slithering up behind him, chuckles rumbling from an inequine throat...
"Phil? Phil?"
Rara's voice pulled him back to reality, and he shook his head to fling away the last of the visions. "I'm fine," he said. "Well...not fine, but I'm getting better."
"Glad to hear it," Rara said. "You know you can talk to AJ and I if you need to."
"Thanks," Phillip nodded.
"And we also wanted to ask," Rara continued, shuffling one hoof nervously. "With everything that's been going on, have you ever been tempted to...?"
Phillip smiled and shook his head. "I kicked the habit long ago. No more red poppydust, ever again."
"Good," Rara nodded. "I ask because I know that hard times can make it harder to keep sober. When I was trying to quit alcohol, I'd have a bad day or two and all I could think about would be getting a drink."
"Glad you're concerned, but I've never gotten tempted," Phillip said. "And I'm better for it. I wouldn't have kicked it if it hadn't been for yours and AJ's help." He smiled at Rara and patted her shoulder. "Thanks for that."
"You're welcome," Rara said, giving him a one-armed hug.
"And since we're on the subject," Phillip added. "Cold?"
"She's doing great," Rara said with a smile. "Completely clean for moons now."
"Good," Phillip nodded. The conversation paused and he filled the silence by taking another drag on his cigarette, puffing out the smoke.
"Phil, there's one other thing," Rara asked. "AJ and I are planning on having our wedding soon, and we wanted to ask you and your parents would be the musicians for the reception."
Phillip's eyebrows shot up into his mane. "Really? Didn't think you'd go for our music."
"We both agree: we want our family to be a part of this," Rara smiled at him.
"...family?" Phillip whispered, a strange, warm tingle running through his chest.
"You've worked with us for a long time, Phil," Rara said. "We've seen you through thick and thin, and you've been a part of our lives, too. You're kin, Phil. And we want you to be a part of this."
Phillip stared at her in silence for a beat, then the warmth that was spreading through his chest ran up to his face and a wide smile crossed his countenance. "Thank you," he nodded.
Rara smiled broadly and hugged him tight, eliciting a grunt of surprise and knocking the cigarette from his lips before he hugged his kin back.
"I'd better practice more if I'm going to perform at a wedding," Phillip said, releasing her.
Rara giggled. "You'd better!" she said, booping him as the two headed back inside.