//------------------------------// // Chapter 24: Making Friends // Story: Electro Swing // by Rego //------------------------------// “Now's the time for action, Summers. We got a good groove going now. Let’s just beat that jive turkey at his game and play on the Drive anyway,” Springstep urged. “Nuh-uh, ladies,” Summers admonished. “I said it again and again and I’ll keep saying it until it sticks, I ain’t down with that! We play by their stupid rules or we don’t play at all!” “But why? We got Shoddy Shoes and his masters on the run. Hiding behind their dumb rules to bogart the Drive is all those chumps got left!” “Springstep, do me a solid and take a chill pill. There’s plenty of room for the both of us in Canterlot.” “Why don’t you tell them that? Those fat cats down on the Drive have been blacklisting us everywhere we go! ‘Don’t meet sufficiently acceptable artistic merit’ my flank!” Vinyl’s notes sat neglected on the wayside as she listened intently to the drama slowly building on the Groovecasters record. What started out as a last-minute jam session had devolved into a heated argument between Springstep and Sauna Summers. It was a topic that Vinyl was familiar with in passing, but the argument had always been cut from the record. This time they stayed, probably because they were waiting on the third party to finish whatever it was they were doing. Being silent for so long, it was likely Sunny. “Spring! It’s copacetic, ‘kay? They got live gigs, we got record sales. Once we get enough for a full band, we can beat them at their game. If we wanna play on the Drive, it's their way or no way, so that’s what we’re gonna do.” “Dream on, Summers. Who’s gonna play with us? Pretty much every horn in this town is owned by those Society squares!” “That’s where this comes in, Spring,” Sunny finally interjected, causing Vinyl to ready her notes. “Ain’t gonna lie, Sunny,” Spring said, “I was wondering what it was that you were doing over there. Especially with that hunk of amethyst.” Vinyl couldn’t stop herself from cringing at the idea of amethyst storage. While the gems themselves were crisp, easy to channel, and resonated beautifully with sound magic, they were incredibly inefficient. Fitting several songs for crystal clear playback was easy enough, but cramming an instrument’s full breadth of sound was unthinkable these days. Unless somepony was trying to get with an amethyst rock farmer, there was no reason to fill rooms with the things. “Not exactly,” Sunny chimed in. “Umm… ‘Check it out’ the ‘hip new groove’ we got ‘flowing’ here.” “Shug, just speak your truth,” Summers corrected. After an awkward moment, Sunny started up again with a cough. “So I did a little research and found that the Canterlot Musical Society’s rules state that any recognized CMS group allowed to play at a CMS affiliated venue must contain a certain percentage of what they termed a ‘traditional instrumentation soundscape.’ All we need to do is use their seemingly restrictive rules against them.” “Okay, old news, but sure,” Spring said. “The keyword here is 'percentage,' Spring.” “Groovy.” “D-did you, umm… ‘catch the drift?’” “I’m guessing we’re gonna cheat the system somehow?” “No—I mean yes, we kind of are but not—” Sunny growled trying to figure out her wording. Vinyl felt a kinship with the frustrated mare as she stumbled over her words while trying to dumb it down for the fellow performer. She was lucky to work with Fleur at school, but sometimes the rest of the Cantrips talent could be less than quick on the uptake. “Let me phrase it this way. Do you know how both big band swing and small quartets can get away with being properly recognized by the CMS despite being comprised so differently?” “Percentages?” “Yes!” Sunny exclaimed, a little desperation sneaking into her voice. “Do you know what I mean by that?” “Square stuff is your space, dork.” Sunny muttered something under her breath while Vinyl rested her face on her hooves. Vinyl knew Spring was angry and could certainly relate to her feelings towards the nobles, but the mare’s temperament towards Sunny was grating on her nerves. Sunny herself must’ve been feeling the same way. “Simply put, we need a certain number of traditional instruments and we’re in,” Sunny clarified. “All we need to do is make sure the percentage meets the bare minimum of the threshold required by the CMS and they can’t reject us for lacking a proper soundscape.” “Right on. So, who’s gonna play an instrument? You?” “Umm… I never learned to play one.” “Fab, Sunny,” Spring groused. “The rest of us can’t play a single thing either, unless tambourines count. So what now?” “We exploit a loophole.” “Is that why you wheeled in that gemstone, sunshine?” Summers asked. “Yes. This is a feather flute.” “How the hay is that a feather flute?” Springstep shouted in disbelief. “It’s not a real feather flute, but a magically transcribed one,” Sunny explained. “All you need is to channel the instrument itself through a magical implement and, presto, you’ll hear a flute.” “Don’t mean to bum everypony out, but between the three of us, I see six wings, eight if Autumn was here today. Ain’t a single horn between the four of us.” “Sunny is a pegasus!” Vinyl pumped a hoof in excitement as she scribbled it down. Finally, something concrete on their identities. Sauna Summers, Autumn Aria, Spring Step, and Sunny Something; the core four of Summer’s inner circle at Groovecasters were all pegasi. Vinyl thought back to that stunning magazine cover of the silver-clad Summers commanding the stage with her three friends. She hoped Sunny was one of them. “Exactly!” Sunny confirmed. “Which is why we need a magical implement that anypony can use.” “And I’m guessing that’s what’s with the weird piano?” Summers inquired. “Yes. With this, we can beat the CMS at their own game, but it’s not a piano. It’s a magical implement called a synthesizer. Now—” Sunny was cut short by Vinyl pausing the playback. Vinyl popped open the Summers biography and began looking for when this could’ve been recorded. No matter at what point this would’ve been in Summer’s early years, synthesizers would be considered cutting-edge musical technology. They were far more common these days, but even now, synthesizers capable of handling high-quality crystals were still expensive. Sunny calling it a magical focus rather than a musical instrument was telling enough. That and amethysts wouldn’t have been cheap. Vinyl spun the record back slightly and then continued. “—called a synthesizer. Now, watch this.” There was a faint sound of plastic clacking against hooves, but nothing resembling an instrument. “I don’t hear anything.” “Indeed! But listen. Once I attune this to the conduit—” Vinyl quickly paused the record again. Forget simply cutting-edge, this sounded more like an early experimental prototype. She’d never even heard of a synthesizer relying on an exterior channeling source. If they were using amethysts, then it made sense to forgo a casing in favor of a free-standing mounting conduit. They were prohibitively cumbersome, but compared to other gemstones, their audio purity was on another level. Starting the record again, Vinyl heard the unmistakable whistle of a feather flute accompanied by the clack of a hoof sliding down the full breadth of a keyboard. If she hadn’t been told, she wouldn’t have known it was an imprinted instrument. For something like that, the amethyst must’ve been enormous. It’d easily outsize a full-grown mare and likely need a mounting platform the size of a wagon wheel to suspend. Vinyl thanked her lucky stars that history favored utility over quality. Otherwise, she’d be hiring teams of draft ponies to pull convoys of crystals around to her gigs. “Woah. That sounds like a feather flute… kinda,” Spring said. “What do you mean? I don’t hear a difference,” Summers added. “It’s real close, but something’s off about it, I can tell. You get an ear for these things when you’ve been in the biz as long as me and Autumn.” “If I were to take a guess, it’s probably because you only hear the pure instrument. It lacks the sound of somepony’s breath passing through it,” Sunny suggested, earning a confirming nod of agreement from Vinyl for her accuracy. “Fortunately for us, this counts as a feather flute since one of the Gifted students a few years ago played a quartet by herself using crystals. They carved out an exception for her, leaving us with a convenient loophole to exploit.” Did Sunny know about Sonorous Spirit too? The often overlooked mare was famous for channeling up to six crystalline instruments at once and one of Vinyl’s obscure inspirations. The sheer amount of raw magic and concentration required to perform music stopped anypony else from trying. Vinyl could only channel two at most, and even then she could only do one note at a time. Spirit had simply been on another level, and Vinyl wished she could’ve seen perform live. “Far out, Sunny! I knew Summers kept you around for something.” “Springstep…” Summers warned. “Chill, Summers. Just a joke. So, we can play the feather flute with this piano, but that doesn’t change the fact nopony knows how to play it. Not super helpful there, Sunny.” “Right.” Sunny’s incredulity was so thick, Vinyl could almost hear her eyes roll. “Along with this, I was able to convince Smooth Groove to borrow the piano player from Tres Ponis. We’ll rely on him until we can build up enough money to support a full band behind us ourselves. With this in our arsenal, we can channel four of these at once and translate it into enough instruments to meet their soundscape requirement.” “Stellar work, sunshine!” A fluttering of feathers and a subtle “Oof” from Sunny signaled she had likely been subjected to another impactful hug by Summers. “Wow. Didn’t think you had a devious bone in your body,” Spring praised with glowing respect. “Always seem so straightlaced.” “Sometimes rules are meant to be bent a little until they can be rewritten,” Sunny bragged, but the pride she savored quickly faded away. “However… there is a small catch. Unless they’re a traditional choir or an acapella group, singers don’t count towards traditional instrumentation. A nice little rule to try to keep groups like us out.” “Classy. So what?” Spring asked. “The synthesizer counts as four on a technicality. Luckily, the drums do also, but we still have the other invalid instruments and the four of us working against the balance.” “Can’t we just swap out crystals and play, like, one note of each before we start a song?” “No. The rules state it needs to be a natural part of the overall soundscape, so we’ll need to actually play it to keep things above board. Besides, you want to try switching something that big or larger out on the fly? Touching an active storage or conduit crystal while they’re being channeled can be dangerous. If it didn’t give you a nasty shock to your mana system, you’d probably break the crystal itself. Trust me, you don’t want to do that. Those weren’t cheap.” “Wait… so what’s the lowdown?” Spring asked in concern. Sunny sighed. “Unless we can find somepony else to play an accepted instrument—” “Which the CMS will be absolutely thrilled to let one of their horns play with us while we’re trying to crash their party.” “Yes, it means with what we currently have, Summers will be the only singer allowed on-stage.” “Wha—what about you two and Autumn?” Summers interjected. “This is the best I could do. Groovecasters doesn’t want to throw any more money at this. After I showed them the synthesizer and crystals, I practically groveled at their hooves trying to get us a piano player.” “Hold up Sunny. You ain’t saying you bought all of… Sweet Celestia! How much did—” “Don’t worry about it, Summers. This was well worth the investment.” “I think we’re missing the sky through the clouds here,” Spring shouted over the other two. “All they need to do is get a couple of other ponies to let me and Autumn in. Groove just wants to shine the spotlight on his foxy disco diva!” “What about Sunny?” Summers asked, raising her voice at her friend being left out. “Close the shades, Summers! If she wasn’t cool with the idea, she wouldn’t have brought it up, unless she’s trippin. Obviously she’s fine with you going solo for some reason. Bet the flat leaver is just waiting to cuddle up to Groove and the other producers!” “Don’t put words in her mouth!” “No, it’s fair,” Sunny defended, cutting off Summers’ argument before it could start. “I don’t know what lever I’m meant to be pulling, but if it means we move forward, I am perfectly fine with it.” “Well, unlike you, Miss Paper Pusher, this is my only job!” Spring argued. “I’m sorry, Spring. I really tried, but this is the best I can do.” “Why don’t we take turns?” Summers suggested. Sunny sighed again, her voice shrinking further from the conversation. “Smooth Groove was only okay with the idea if you were always on stage.” Spring forced a condescending laugh. “Well ain’t that just a peach and a half! Me and Aria have been putting years into Groovecasters, but all they want is you shaking your hot-to-trot foxy flank center stage to bring in the bits!” “Now, now, Springstep. That isn’t—” “No! Up your muzzle with a rusty shovel, Sunny! You may be fine with the cards you got dealt, or maybe you’re just a woofin, but some of us still got dreams! If you’re for real, let’s blow this scene, Summers. We still got Cloudsdale or Manehatten, and unlike this hornhead haven, we’ll actually be welcome there.” There was a long pause on the record. For a moment, Vinyl was worried it was the end until Summers chimed back in after considering the proposal. “What about Sunny? She can’t leave Canterlot with her… job.” “Who cares about Little Miss Executive here? You gotta know when to fly the coop and leave this grounded bird behind. Let her go back to her cushy chair. I ain’t sticking around to squander my one chance at success because somepony has a bum wing.” “No…” The confidence Summers usually displayed was nowhere to be heard in her voice as doubt wormed its way in. “No! Sunny’s my friend, and we’re supposed to be welcome in Canterlot! Princess Celestia said—” “We all know what the Princess said to you about harmony, but obviously some ponies around town ain’t hip to the groove! Besides, if the Princess was so interested in you, where’s she now?” Spring asked pointedly. Vinyl felt a certain kinship with Spring, but her dismissive attitude felt needlessly hostile. “That’s what I thought. If she ain’t gonna help and they don’t want us here, I say we give ‘em what they want. They might not say that they hate us ‘cause of our wings, but I got the whole picture now. High time you did too.” Another uncomfortable silence dragged on until somepony took a deep breath. “Fine, then leave,” Sunny calmly suggested. “What?” Spring fired back in disbelief at Sunny’s sudden change. “Go ahead and leave. If you’ve already made up your mind, the door is right over there. You sound so confident, I’m sure it will be fine.” “I know it’s better than being forced into playing second fiddle forever.” “Second fiddle?” Sunny hummed to herself for a second. “That’s quite a generous take. I must’ve been mistaken in thinking that we’re only doing as well as we are because the ‘Sensational Sauna Summers’ exploded onto the scene and managed to drag the rest of Groovecasters along for the ride.” “Disco’s the new dig. We found the sound, so all we gotta do is—” “Copy her success?” “Summers didn’t invent disco, you freak! For peat’s sake, if we’re going by CMS playbook, me and Autumn are way better singers! We got wider ranges and the talent to back it up!” “Perhaps that is true, but Summers is the one with the magic to make it popular. An underdog ‘commoner’ resisting the proper harmony of Canterlot by performing outside of her cutie mark? That’s inspiring. Summers’ fans can relate to that struggle, especially with how she’s so obviously slandered in the papers.” “Oh, so now it’s bad we got music marks and you two don’t? Don’t talk jive to me, Sunny! We’ve been busting our flanks since we got ours. If you’re too good for us now, then we’re good enough to make it with or without you two!” “I never said I was particularly talented with music. I’m not a very artistic pony. But honestly, it’s not a matter of quality performers that will win. It’s who is both quality and marketable. A hot, steamy Sauna of sound bringing a series of endless Summers to your ears? Good luck beating that after flying away from Groovecasters so haphazardly. You’ll be lucky to land knock-off shows in Las Pegasus as the Spring derivative that will always be a Step away from the real deal.” “Sunny!” Summers yelled. “You’re way out of line!” “But am I wrong?” “Fine! Ten-four! Crystal clear!” Spring screeched, capitulating to the bitter truth. “The world ain’t fair and we’re all stuck supporting the hot spa pony in the spotlight. Who cares if we work hard and want to shine too, right? That’s what you’re saying, right? Right?” “Springstep, wait!” Summers called out as hooves were heard galloping away followed by a door slam. Vinyl’s heart sank as the silence settled in. “Sunny! What the hay was that about?” “You better go after her. I obviously can’t chase her down,” Sunny laughed ruefully. “Not that I can help her anyway. She’ll need a friend right now, and I’m pretty sure I just ruined that.” “Nuh-uh, shug. You’re coming too, even if I have to carry you on my back. You need to apologize. We gotta make this right!” “I have nothing to say to her that would be helpful,” Sunny admitted with remorse. “We’re supposed to be like a family, shug. This ain’t you.” “No. No it isn’t, but we need this. You need this, Summers. Our record sales are keeping us relevant to the managers, but we aren’t irreplaceable. If we become bad for Groovecasters, they will drop us. To make sure that doesn’t happen, we’ll get every last bit we can so we become their unequivocal bottom line. That means we need to legitimize ourselves in the eyes of the venues around Canterlot. I’ll make sure that we make it by any means necessary. “We need to change how we play the game before we can change how it’s played in the first place. If we become just another one-hit wonder, then not even Celestia herself will be able to save us from obscurity.” “Sunny… I-I just wanna make ponies happy. What’s the point of leaving the spa if I can’t even make my closest friends happy anymore?” “Please, Summers. I know it’s hard, but this is what needs to be done. If that means I become the group’s villain so we can keep going, then so be it. You just stay strong and keep being the sensation that you are.” There was another long pause, making Vinyl wish she could somehow see what was happening on these records. “Now, you need to go find Springstep and calm her down. If I know her, she’s probably brooding on a cloud somewhere. I’ll start packing things up arou—” Vinyl set her headset to the side upon hearing the familiar pop of the recording being cut off by Sunny. She’d been trying to ignore the ever-mysterious mare recently by focusing more on Springstep and Autumn Aria, but then moments like this would happen. On one hoof, Sunny was a painfully naïve pony who always bumbled one step behind the others when performing. Then on the other, her studious, cunning nature always shined through when the music stopped in the most interesting and somewhat terrifying ways. This was the first time the DJ had heard so many personal details about anypony involved with Summers. The recordings usually cut off before these kinds of sparks could start flying. Vinyl now had strong evidence that they all must be the three ponies pictured most often in Sunny’s early career. This meant Sunny was a pegasus, probably a weather pony of some sort with a “bum wing,” trying to make it in music. A flightless pegasus… The thought made Vinyl’s skin crawl. If she couldn’t use magic, she’d at least manage to still make music with her equipment. If Sunny’s special talent was weather-related, which the name implied, Vinyl could understand why she’d gravitate to somepony like Summers. Even early on, the story of the Queen’s life was rising above her cutie mark. Vinyl could understand why Sunny would be so committed to breaking into the industry, but “by any means necessary” left a bad taste in her mouth. That being said, what in Equestria did Sunny do as a day job to afford a synthesizer and amethysts? She blew right past Summer’s valid question. Vinyl’s line of work and studies put her in constant contact with such precious stones. Those would be far more valuable than putting four ponies on the payroll of Groovecasters, so how did Sunny swing that? She hadn’t even seen such beauties at the ESPA! Was Sunny some kind of rogue noble? If she knew Spirit’s work, then maybe she had connections to the school. “Finally! The headphones come off!” Vinyl nearly fell backwards off of her stool before Fleur’s pink aura surrounded her. She looked back to her friend, who was covering her mouth, most likely hiding a devilish grin. “Oops, sorry about that,” Fleur non-apologized while righting her friend into her seat. Vinyl adjusted her shades as she caught her breath from the surprise. She’d have to get used to her best friend being at the estate now, which was shaping up to be both a blessing and a curse. Seeing as Fleur was decked out horn to hoof in warm clothing for another adventure in the cold, Vinyl was leaning towards curse. “It’s fine, Fleur. Just taking a breather. Not done archiving yet.” “Yes you are. You’ve been sitting there for five hours straight.” “What? No I—” Vinyl looked at the clock, amazed that the recordings had eaten up so much of her time. “Oh…” “‘Oh’ is not what I want to hear. ‘Sorry’ or ‘Let’s do something fun’ would be better.” “I’m doing my job, Fleur. I might enjoy it, but I’m not here to have fun.” “I know, that’s why I’m here. Worktime is over, playtime is now.” “Playtime?” Vinyl chuckled at the word. “What are we, seven?” Fleur nodded with firm resolution. “I have it on good authority that seven-year-olds are masters of having stress-free fun. So yes, it’s playtime.” “Okay. Before recess, have you finished your homework and made any progress on your performance?” Fleur flashed a victorious grin and levitated a citrine out of her saddlebag. With a flicker of magic, she sparked the sigil inside to life and held it up to her throat. “Yes I have,” she answered simply, her voice doubling up on itself. “Woah! Is that supposed to be that changeling queen’s voice?” “Not exactly, but my plans do have a flair of royalty.” Another sparkle disengaged the citrine and she put the gem away in her saddlebag. “What about you? Archiving isn’t exactly swinging into your electrifying action.” Vinyl rolled her eyes, unable to ignore the puns. “I pretty much have it all figured out for the sound and how to play it. All that’s left now is practicing for the performance.” “Great, so let’s go! All hooves on deck for a friend ship excursion.” Vinyl winced. Fleur wasn’t playing fair. After admitting everything to her friend, Fleur had come up with the idea to help her make a few more friends, or at least strengthen her current relationships. Truly, it wasn’t that big of an ask; just let her help Vinyl make a few friends so she wouldn’t feel so helpless and isolated. And, if she was honest with herself, deep down, there was a tiny part of her that didn't want to be alone anymore. “I guess I could use a break,” Vinyl admitted, closing her notebook and placing the records back in their sleeves. “Where are we going this time?” “The backyard!” Vinyl lowered her shades to flash her incredulous eyes at Fleur. “Like, here at the estate?” “Mhmm!” Fleur nodded enthusiastically as she tossed some of Vinyl’s winter wear into the studio haphazardly. “The snow’s gonna be gone before you know it, and since I’m here, we’re gonna take full advantage of it.” Fancy quirked a brow as Fleur led him, Vinyl, and Fluffer Duster to the top of the tallest hill on the property. Dapper Dandy was already there, waiting patiently at the top for the entourage, and bowed as they approached. Cresting over the hill, everypony looked out in a mixture of awe and concern at the sprawling track before them. A complex path had been marked by a series of flags, curving and banking around the flowing hills of the old vineyard. Fancy had noticed Fleur going in and out of the mansion all morning, but he hadn’t expected this. “You know, those flags are meant for guiding airships, not slaloms,” Fancy remarked as he followed the slope with his eyes towards the river. Fleur shrugged it off. “Not like you get many of those these days anyways.” Vinyl lowered her shades to get a better look. “Are those kinds of flags usually topped with gems like that?” she asked, drawing Fancy’s attention to the alternating sapphires and rubies perched on the ends of the flagpoles. “That’s a little addition by me. And no, they aren’t just for decoration.” Fleur grabbed a pair of sleds sitting nearby with her magic and hovered them over. “They’re for races!” Looking closely at the sleds, he recognized them from the set he bought for hosting dignitaries with children during the winter months. They were sturdy wooden designs with turning reins to help riders steer. The red sled was crudely inlaid with a ruby and the blue one bore a sapphire. “When you pass between the flags, the sled’s corresponding jewel activates a glowing enchantment for a couple of minutes. The pony that passes through all the gates and gets to the finish line first wins!” A smile crept across the DJ’s face. “Okay, not gonna lie, that’s pretty awesome.” “It’s also pretty steep,” Fluffer Duster mumbled as she bit her lip. “I know, right?” Fleur nodded along with anticipation. Following the trail of flags in the snow, the path ran down slopes that did get steep in places as well as weave around the lower hills at some sharper angles. While sledding wasn’t incredibly dangerous, Fancy wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of colliding with another racer. “That certainly raises the stakes, but I must agree with Miss Fluffer Duster. I’d rather not risk another injury under my watch.” Seeing the subtle fear in the maid, Fleur moved closer to reassure her. “Look. The weather ponies have been maintaining the snow pretty well all season. There’s plenty of soft powder to barrel into face-first.” Her eyes drifted to the wrapping mare’s injured wing and she sighed in defeat. “But you’re still getting over your sprain, so you don’t have to if you don’t want to Fluffs. It’s no fun if somepony’s not having any themselves.” “Don’t worry, Miss Fleur, I think it is a marvelous course. And while one can pick up a fair amount of speed on the slope, it isn’t unmanageable for a seasoned sledder,” Dapper Dandy assured everypony. “You speak as if you have experience with the course,” Fancy noted in disbelief. “But of course. How would Miss Fleur de Lis be able to test it without somepony else to race against? We currently have a minor problem of being tied two to two, but we can resolve that shortly with a fifth go-around.” Fancy shook his head. “You always were the adventurous type, Dapper.” “One is never too old to enjoy a good time, sir.” The butler turned to Fleur and Fluffer Duster, and gave the unicorn a meaningful look. “Still, if one lacks experience, the notion might seem a little intimidating.” “Y-yeah.” Fluffer Duster lowered her head and dragged a hoof across the ground. “Sledding wasn’t really something we had in Cirriucuse. This kind of looks… dangerous.” “Dangerous?” Fleur waved a dismissive hoof and blew a razzberry at the maid’s fear. “It’s just sledding, Fluffs, not a ski slope. Foals do it all the time. In fact, Fancy used to take me over to that hill when I came to visit.” She pointed in the distance towards the waterfall and the gradual slope following the flow of the river. “You know, there’s more sleds where those came from. How about I go grab a couple and show you the ropes?” “Would that be okay? I don’t want to ruin your fun, Miss—” Fleur frowned quickly as the maid caught herself. “—I mean, Fleur! Fleur is what I meant to say.” After holding the deepening frown for a bit longer, Fleur broke with a hearty laugh and wrapped a hoof around the maid, carefully avoiding touching the wing. “Are you kidding? Just a little one-on-one bonding time with my new favorite filly! I’d be happy to show you the ropes.” “Very good then.” Dapper nodded along with the idea. “I suppose we’ll have to settle our score after you’ve taught Miss Fluffer Duster how to sled properly.” “Indeed. We have unfinished business, you and I.” Fleur cackled insidiously before brightening back up to her flowery self. “In the meantime, why don’t you two do a few races? Still got that stopwatch, Dapper?” Dapper reached into his coat pocket and produced a timepiece and notepad. “And the journal for record keeping, Miss Fleur.” “You’re the best, Dapper!” The mare leaped over to Dapper to wrap her hooves around the older stallion, who returned it with a warm hug of his own. She turned her attention to Fancy and Vinyl, pointing a hoof at the two of them while hanging off the butler. “Now remember, the time is invalid if they miss a gate. You two have fun!” Dapper turned to the remaining two. “Well, you heard the lady. Which one would you prefer, Miss Vinyl?” he asked, levitating both options in the air. Fancy caught the worried glances Vinyl shot from behind her shades between the sleds and Fancy. “I guess I’ll go with the ruby one?” “Very good. And here is yours, sir.” Fancy took the sled in his magic, wondering what the right call would be for this situation. After several comfortable dinners, he had forgotten how fast the mare’s mood turned when it came to being around him. Even from behind her obfuscating shades, her apprehension was obvious. He was also getting better at identifying her signals regardless of her glasses, and that split-second debate hadn’t helped his own misgivings as he tried to consider the right course of action. Paradoxically, it seemed that the more he got to know Vinyl, the less he knew how to act around her. All of his mastery of social situations meant next to nothing when piercing the confounding veil of Vinyl Scratch. Every social rule was flipped on its head, except when it wasn’t. While he was able to easily offer advice from a distance, whenever it came to his personal involvement, his talent felt less than useless with his penchant for overthinking. Even if he knew it wouldn’t help, he couldn’t stop the internal debate. What was the right answer? “A race requires two competitors, Master Fancy Pants,” Dapper mentioned off-hoof, bringing the ponderous stallion out of his musings. “O-of course.” Having the answer made for him, Fancy accepted his uncertainty and took the sled in his magic. “Very good. I shall keep a record of times and victories. Just be sure to light up all the flagpoles on your way down.” The butler began fiddling around with the stopwatch, raising an eyebrow to get a better look at the clock face until he recalled something. “Oh, and the young lady failed to mention this, but no magic, Miss Vinyl.” “Okay, but what about him?” she asked while tilting her head towards Fancy. “Frankly, there should be no cause for concern on that front.” “A very tactful way of saying I wouldn’t be able to cheat even if I wanted to,” Fancy pointed out with a smirk. “Thank you, sir. I like to think that I’ve picked up a little of your diplomacy over the years.” “Just don’t quit your day job, Mister Dapper.” “Perish the thought, Master Fancy Pants! You’d be hopelessly lost without my humble assistance.” Fancy rolled his eyes, but caught Vinyl biting down on her lips, desperately stifling a laugh at his expense. “Now, please ‘get on your marks,’ as they say.” Vinyl nodded and ducked away to get into position on her sled. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Vinyl’s choice of posture, laying flat on it and pushing her forehooves against the sled’s steering instead of sitting down and grabbing the reins with her teeth or magic. Noticing his curious gaze, Vinyl chuckled nervously. “This is just how I do it.” Fancy pursed his lips at the sight, but ultimately shrugged it off and smiled. “It seems I might be in for quite the competition then.” Fancy began to take his seat at the starting line as Vinyl’s gaze ping-ponged between him and the starting line. “You know, you really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Fancy.” The stallion stopped, trying to figure out his next move. How was he supposed to read that? She clearly wanted to go sledding, but his involvement was making her uncomfortable. He wasn’t just dancing around eggshells, he was trying to climb out of an overturned hen house. Fleur just had to force these kinds of things, didn’t she? Before Fancy could find a good answer, Dapper inserted himself into their hushed tones. “Oh? Are you afraid he’d beat you?” “What? No way!” Vinyl dismissed out of hoof, as if the question itself was ridiculous on its face. “I mean—Of course not.” Fancy didn’t know what was worse: her true feelings on his ability to compete or how her genuine attempt at lying to salvage the situation sounded sarcastic. “Then there should be nothing for you to worry about.” Dapper’s assurance drifted as he pondered the question further. “That being said, Master Fancy Pants does have the home field advantage. Then again, he is wildly out of practice, though I suppose his more shapely physique that he’s developed as of late might help in this instance.” Fancy frowned as he inspected himself. Lofty mentioned he hadn’t left the mansion in a while, but he hadn’t put on too much during the holiday season. “You’re having too much fun with this, Dapper.” “And you, sir, aren’t having nearly enough.” Dapper took the sled away from Fancy and sat it down next to Vinyl. “Now, lighten up and get on your mark like Miss Vinyl, chop-chop.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had been scolded, even in jest. Doing as he was told, Fancy climbed onto the sled which offered a squeaked in protest at the stallion’s weight. He decided right then and there that he was going to resume his morning jogs tomorrow in earnest. Grabbing the reins in his magic, he gave an experimental tug to test the steering before looking at his opponent. “No going easy on me, Vinyl.” Holding the stopwatch aloft, Dapper cleared his throat. “On your marks!” Vinyl sat silent, her mouth shifting back and forth as she thought about it. “Get set!” Finally, Vinyl shrugged. “Your funeral.” “Go!” Both ponies set off down the slope, the bitter chill of the mountain air buffeted them as they picked up more and more speed. Fancy quickly accelerated due to his holiday “weight advantage,” but DJ was doing her best to even the odds by staying as low as possible to reduce drag. Seeing the DJ giving it her all, he felt the infectious flicker of competition spark as well. Briefly thinking back to his time sliding down the Saddle Arabian sand dunes, he firmly placed his rear hooves on the edges of the sled to help sharpen his steering as they approached the first turn. While Vinyl went for the outer edge of the track to take advantage of the steeper part of the slope, Fancy leaned in tight knowing the flow of the land led to an opposing turn immediately afterward. A “Woo!” of excitement sounded as Vinyl blasted past towards the first gate, lighting up the ruby before he could get closer. Her elation was short-lived as she started going uphill and off-course. As she struggled to regain control, Fancy flashed a cocky grin and eyebrow waggle at her as he cleanly sailed into the next turn and lit up the sapphire. “Oh, no you don’t!” Vinyl shouted after him as she stuck a leg out into the snow, doing her best to course correct without losing too much speed. Looking down the path, there were two other gates fast approaching and staggered to force a tight, serpentine curve. Looking beyond, the rest of the track flowed downstream along the river towards the back of the property. The finish line led into an encircling embankment of snow to help stop the speeding racers. Fancy had to admit, Fleur had really gone all out. Refocusing on the race, he looked behind him. Vinyl was quickly catching up thanks to Fancy’s more cautious sledding. While he favored slowing down to maintain control, the younger unicorn made large banking turns in an effort to keep a higher top speed. With her lighter frame, it’d be more difficult to accelerate as the course flattened. Fancy found it equally impressive and frightening at how seriously the DJ was taking the backyard race. As he passed through the s-curve’s second gate, Fancy began slowing down after failing to notice his angle of approach had forced him to go slightly uphill. Course correcting to regain some lost speed, Vinyl quickly launched through the gate behind him and slipped past. She gave him a mock salute as she sped up the ridge and down the other side. Despite the childishness of it all, Fancy felt a twinge of irritation as he leaned down himself. She might be more agile, but he’d have the acceleration advantage during the home stretch. Fancy gritted his teeth as he aimed towards the next gate. While his path was more direct, Vinyl was moving at a much faster clip. Unfortunately for her, due to her angle, she would be heading away from the final gate. In order to make the gate, she’d be forced to slow down and make a much sharper turn than he would. Meanwhile, he’d easily pivot towards the next flagpole pairing without much effort. Passing through the gates a few moments after Vinyl, he turned slightly to keep on his straight path towards the final poles. Vinyl dug her legs into the snow to power slide into a good trajectory, but not without sacrificing her speed advantage. Without another steep slope, she’d have a difficult time keeping ahead of him. With renewed confidence, he leaned down as far as his back permitted him and overtook Vinyl. Seeing his victory in sight, he couldn’t help but grin in excitement. He watched the sapphire light up first as he passed the finish line, and bellowed a victorious laugh as he pulled to a stop. “Seriously? You gotta be kidding me!” Vinyl cursed as she skidded to a halt shortly after him. “I regret to inform you that you will have to postpone my memorial service.” “I can see that,” Vinyl grumbled as she was forced to eat her words. “Either your acting skills are on par with Fleur and you let me win, or beating this old stallion was a bit more than you could handle.” “I want a rematch! Now!” The fire behind her words caught Fancy completely off guard. They weren’t angry, but definitely competitive, much like they were before he had hired her. He was starting to realize why Fleur had chosen such a foalish activity. Despite being an outdoor activity, sledding was a comfortable space for Vinyl. Fancy smiled, allowing himself to fully join in the fun. “Of course. Best three out of five?” “You’re on!” After six more races, it was abundantly clear to Fancy that Vinyl wasn’t graceful in defeat. In fact, her competitiveness clearly overpowered any reservations she had around expressing her true feelings. While the DJ went above and beyond to eke out her victories, Fancy’s heavier weight gave him an easier time gaining speed on the slopes when it counted. After the first four races of exchanging victories, the stallion had found his path of least resistance and was on a winning streak without putting the effort Vinyl was into her sledding. “Perhaps you’d like to use a spell to—” Vinyl took a patient breath, cutting him off from finishing his sentence. “I’m not supposed to use magic, so I’m not gonna use magic.” “I’m not suggesting you cheat, but rather even the playing field. Even if I was in better shape, I’d clearly have a weight advantage, Vinyl.” “I know how velocity works!” Vinyl barked in frustration. Catching herself too late, she recoiled slightly from her temper. “Sorry.” “Not to worry, Vinyl. While it’s all in good fun, I do feel guilty for my brandy regiment giving me an edge over your skillful sledding. Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve been taking it this seriously in the first place. You didn’t strike me as a winter sporting type, considering you don’t enjoy the cold.” “I had to if I wanted to stand a chance against Fleur. It was fine a few years ago, but as we got older, she kept getting bigger. You know how she is when she wins.” Fancy nodded in understanding. “She does enjoy giving a good ribbing to the loser.” Vinyl chuckled. “That’s one way to put it.” Fancy laughed a little himself and smiled. “I’m glad to see you having a good time for once.” “How do you figure that?” “You might have your sunglasses on, but that brilliant smile of yours when we’re racing tells me you’re thoroughly enjoying this little backyard outing.” Vinyl reactively snapped her mouth shut. “There’s no need to be shy about it, I am quite enjoying this myself as well.” “Yeah, I’d be too if it was five to two in my favor,” Vinyl scoffed. “It’s not the victories, though those are a nice bonus.” “Then what is it?” Fancy hummed to himself as he considered the question. It wasn’t exactly a difficult one to answer, but it could be a hard one for the mare to accept if put too simply. “Vinyl, may I be frank with you?” he asked carefully. The DJ sat up on her sled at attention. “Umm… okay, sure. I guess.” “Thank you. Simply put, you know I didn’t pay for your respect, right?” Vinyl tilted her head and shot an eyebrow up. “What?” “Don’t take this the wrong way. I told you before that your professionalism at the bake sale surprised me. In fact, your ability to act in a way that one would expect from any proper Canterlotian on the street is admirable, but I haven’t earned your respect.” “Again, what?” Vinyl’s head tilted further, her sunglasses falling slightly ajar, revealing the utter confusion peeking from behind. “I hired Vinyl Scratch, the illustrious DJ Pon-3, to help me in a way nopony else could, and I do expect good work from you. That means working at your own pace and enjoying your time at the mansion. I’d much rather work with ponies that are comfortable rather than feeling a constant need to genuflect. I may be providing you room and board, but I don’t think I have done much to have earned anything more than work from you. I suppose that’s a long way of saying, even if you’re doing it by accident, I’m glad you’re acting like yourself rather than showing me respect out of a misplaced sense of obligation.” Fancy let the answer hang, allowing Vinyl time to process it. “So, what exactly do you want from me?” Fancy shook his head. “Your question presumes that I want something from you in the first place. I want for you to be happy and enjoy your time living and working here. I would say you have nothing to be worried about, but you have no reason to believe what I say. So instead, just know that I’d prefer you behave in whatever manner you see fit around me. I do hope it isn’t fear-driven, but if it is, I don’t mind doing my best to honestly earn your trust.” Another complicated frown crossed Vinyl’s face. “What if that’s impossible?” “Good question.” Fancy stroked his chin as he thought about the answer. If she wouldn’t let him in, that was her decision, but his choice was a different one entirely. “I suppose I’ll simply keep working at it until you decide it is possible.” Vinyl didn’t answer at first, but eventually nodded as she stood up and picked up her sled. “You said before that I haven’t made anything myself, so I might as well try changing that by doing my best to make you feel more comfortable while you're here. After all, what’s the point of putting up with me if I can’t make others happy?” Vinyl stopped in her tracks and gave him a look he couldn’t quite place. After a few moments, she shook it off and pointed at her friends in the distance. “Yeah. I’m going to check out how Fleur and Fluffs are doing.” “Alright, Vinyl.” Fancy did his best not to let her apprehension affect him. “Sorry if I ruined your mood for rematches.” “No, it’s not that,” Vinyl explained, but offered no further clarifications. “It was fun though, so thanks.” “You’re most welcome. To be honest, I enjoyed our races far more than I thought I would.” Fancy stood up from his sled and flashed a winning smile. “You’re quite a fierce opponent. Just give me a year to drop a little of my weighty advantage and maybe even the playing field a little.” “Good luck with that. I’m not sure there’s much for you to lose in the first place.” “Now, now, I am definitely not paying you enough to flatter me.” Vinyl seemed confused for a moment, but a call from on high interrupted her reply. “Master Fancy Pants! Miss Vinyl! Are you done racing for now?” Dapper asked. “Yes we are!” Fancy hollered back before turning his attention back to Vinyl. “Would you like me to take your sled or will you be joining them on the slopes?” “I think I’ll go a few more times down the slopes before it gets too late,” Vinyl said coolly, which sounded more like a thinly veiled ‘Hooves off! I’m not done having fun yet!’ to Fancy. “Alright then, Vinyl. If you will excuse me, I think now would be an excellent time for something to warm up with.” Catching a brief look at the DJ before she turned to head to the distant slope, Fancy couldn’t help but chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to bring some hot cocoa for the three of you as well. Proper hot cocoa, that is.” Vinyl stopped and looked back at the stallion. “What? But I didn’t ask you to do that.” “Didn’t have to.” Fancy lowered his monocle, peering over the lens like a certain DJ did with her shades and smiled warmly. With that, Fancy turned to put away his sled and have Dapper help him prepare something warm for the girls, leaving the open book torn between irritation and gratitude.