//------------------------------// // Chapter 36: A Smooth Operator // Story: Electro Swing // by Rego //------------------------------// It’s the groove you feel, That sends you to Cloud Nine. And the mood’s unreal, It makes you feel sublime! Your love’s like dancing on clouds! (You’re dancing on clouds~) Here we are dancing on the clouds! (We’re dancing on clouds~) Vinyl bobbed her head to the disco beat. Summers and the others were in the final stages of writing what would be their next hit, “Cloud Nine.” It sounded far more like the disco she was familiar with thanks to them finally getting a proper band together. With each passing album, they were getting one step closer to the truly Sensational Sauna Summers. To top it all off, Vinyl recognized their voices from another set of records. Specifically, she’d heard their big band sound on the Suede Shoes’ side of the collection. It seemed the two were getting closer with each passing record. As the band moved into an instrumental break, a door slammed open. “What the hay is this, Summers?” Springstep yelled in disbelief, interrupting the jam session. “Woah! Chill out, Spring,” Summers called back. “What’s got your feathers ruffled?” “These squares! Why are they here?” “Who are you calling squares? These cool cats are—” “With Suave Oasis. Yeah, I know. I ain’t a fool with their heads in the skies. Not like you Summers!” “Spring,” Sunny warned. “I know what this looks like, but with these ponies, we’ll be able to perform on-stage in the clubs.” Spring clicked her tongue. “Unless they switched sides, these chumps are who we’re up against.” “Not from where I’m standing. I believe these fine performers are here to play with us so we can finally meet the society’s quotas. Suede Shoes is helping us, Springstep. He’s even paying for them to be here.” “Uh-huh.” Vinyl knew that wasn’t the whole story. Recently, Summers was making surprise appearances in Suede’s side of the collection. She’d filled in during a few performances where his usual duet partner, Vibrant Voice, had gone on an extended leave. The future couple sounded great together, even better than Vibrant in Vinyl’s opinion. Putting her Summers bias aside, it was clear that the other mare wanted the spotlight for herself, resulting in an unspoken strife that weaved through their duets. Meanwhile, Summers was fine simply adding her passionate depth to the music. She didn’t mind playing second-fiddle at all and joyfully added her tones to the color of his songs. Ironic, considering their roles would be reversed in a few years. As a thank you for her help, instead of sending another bouquet of flowers, he’d sent the big band. It helped that she’d also befriended the members in the time she’d spent with them. Vinyl could hear Summers chatting away during the lulls in their practice sessions. Unlike Vibrant, Summers was just happy to be there. The reality of her humility and kindness made Vinyl resent how history would ultimately remember the Queen of Disco. She casted no shadow. There was only her summery light. “Really, Spring?” Summers asked flatly. “We got good vibes going with this gig, and you’re still hung up on the Suede connection? We’re all finally gonna be singing on-stage together again!” “I don’t like this. You’re being played.” “It ain’t like that at all. I’m trying my best, but you gotta meet me halfway here. I want us to be a group again, Springstep. Please. I can’t remember the last time we performed together.” “Well I do. The last time I sang with you was the last time I performed at all!” Spring growled. “Ever since Sunny struck that club deal with the crystals, Aria and I have been your backup at best. It’s always Summers this and Sauna that. Nopony wants to hear us anymore! Only you!” “And with their help, we’ll be able to fix all that,” Sunny pointed out calmly. “We don’t even need those crystals to play.” “Groovy way to say they finally caught on to our loophole and changed the rules on us,” Spring added bitterly. “I dunno. I kinda like the rocks, sunshine,” Summers interjected. “Especially some of the newer stuff. There’s some psychedelic tunes I’ve heard with some really trippy synthesizers. I can really dig ‘em! One of those brainiacs at the school made a really groovy one by accident and it’s freaky. I wouldn’t even know how to describe it; like maybe a piano string running through a shaking metal tube?” “It’d count against our sound count as a nonstandard instrument, but we have more than enough of the ratio to play around with now,” Sunny added. “Either way, now that we have access to proper instrumentation, we should be able to play within their revised ruleset.” “At least until they whip up another rule outta nothing to keep us down,” Spring spat. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Any further changes would risk hurting their own performers.” “Don’t be playing the fool, Sunny. Then those jerks will keep on tweaking until they just outright say ‘Nopony that we don’t like gets to perform! Period! End of story!’” “So, what do you think we should do?” Sunny asked calmly. “What we shoulda done all along: screw the rules. Do the clubs the way we want, like we want, however we want. Get fans on our side and watch them riot when we get dragged out by the royal tin cans! If she really likes Summers, I say we put that ivory princess in her tower to the test.” Sunny sighed in irritation. “But why? Why get Celestia involved?” “She’s the princess. If we get her to side with us against those stuffy suits, she can just smack ‘em down.” “You know the princess can’t pick favorites, right? We’re all ‘her little ponies’ in case you forgot. That includes the ponies we don’t like.” “Then maybe she should try putting her hooves down when some of her little ponies are hurting others!” “Please, Spring,” Summers begged. “We’ve got the band, we’ve got Suede’s support, we can do this without a fight. It’ll all work out, shug. Just give it a little more time.” “It’s working out just fine for you, but I’m sick of waiting! Waiting ain’t doing nothing for the rest of us.” “Please, Spring. Just mellow out. We can get through this together.” “No, Summers. I’m putting my hoof down. You get one more shot. One more. If we’re really soul sisters, stop bogarting the spotlight and let the rest of us shine for once, no matter what Smooth Groove or Sunny says!” Springstep paused. Vinyl could only imagine what sort of glare she was giving Summers. “Otherwise, I’m out, for real.” “Springstep, I-I…” Summers trailed off. “I gotta look out for me,” Spring reiterated, her voice shaking. “Ain’t no one else in this town gonna, even a totally deece featherhead like you, Summers. Going with the flow ain’t cutting it for the rest of us. I ain’t gonna let them make me a one-hit wonder.” After their argument, the rest of the record went by uneventfully. A few more practice runs with the addition of Springstep’s vocal work was welcome, but Summers didn’t pop with her same, spirited energy. It was clear that the divide in their working relationship was tearing Summers apart. And then there was Sunny. By Springstep’s less-than-friendly tone, Sunny herself had fully stepped into her role as the group’s villain. Gone was the innocent mare from before, subsumed by a role of driven pragmatism. She had one goal, and it was for Summers to succeed. While Vinyl understood it with the forces against the group, Sunny’s unrelenting assistance was hurting Summers. It was like the industry itself was attacking from both without and within. Vinyl could relate. Hearing these struggles in the past made Vinyl wonder how Summers had managed to rise to acclaim in the first place. It was clear she enjoyed singing and wanted to succeed, but the queen was less of a force against the system than history had remembered her. The broad strokes were accurate enough, but hearing it play out from the mare herself painted a far different, far sadder story. Vinyl popped open her notebook to jot down the observations from the last recording and added it to her Summers-Suede timeline. Reviewing her findings, not a lot had been added to Suede’s side since they rarely left the records running. Most of her observations on his side had been added from little snippets of conversation caught during sessions, and they were coming less frequently as the tension built on Summers’ side. Another discrepancy also irritated her the more they went on: Summers considered everypony to be part of a single girl group, but nopony else seemed to recognize it. She’d even thrown around names like the Seasonal Sensations or Sensational Seasons, but that wasn’t how Groovecasters worked. Checking the albums covers, their branding was always the same. “Groovecasters presents: A Catchy Album Name” with a “Featuring: Somepony Special” in big letters followed by a tiny “with whoever else” thrown in the corner. All Summers ever wanted was for the ponies around her to be happy, but everypony else said no. Reality was simply incompatible with her desires. The door remained closed. While every recording was creeping closer and closer to Summers stepping into the lonely spotlight as her renowned role as the Queen of Disco, it was obvious to Vinyl that the former spa pony herself had no intentions of becoming a solo artist. So how had she wound up becoming the exact opposite of what she wanted? Vinyl popped open her primary source of Summers’ life, the biography. Nothing had been sourced directly from the mare herself, since it came after her death. In fact, it didn’t explore much of anything outside of her career. It didn’t even start with Sauna Summers’ birth in Cloudsdale. The first line mentioned her rise from obscurity in the hospitality sector after finding inspiration from Princess Celestia herself. Opening to the table of contents, Vinyl began scanning chapter titles. “The Start of Summers, Endless Summers, A Queen is Crowned, Summers’ Reign, The Queen’s Revolution…” Vinyl mumbled to herself as a sinking worry crept into her stomach. “Wait. Where is ‘Sauna’ in any of this?” Until now, Vinyl had never noticed just how little Sauna Summers herself was featured in her own book. It was always queen this and queen that, treating her like some sort of force of music rather than the kind mare she was. Turning to the last catch-all chapter, Vinyl started skimming for any mention of her life outside of her career. Summers had married Suede Shoes, broken from her label, produced several independent albums, and then a few more little snippets before reporting the date she died without even the cause of death mentioned. It was a career biography. Vinyl knew that, but Summers’ career wasn’t about this. So little of what made Sauna Summers actually sensational wasn’t her music. Honestly, it wasn’t even that good compared to Suede’s in Vinyl’s opinion. Who had they pulled their information from? “Wait, is Fancy Pants even in here?” She turned back a few pages trying to find anything else more of her personal life, but no. There was nothing, he wasn’t a source. There wasn’t even a passing mention that Summers had a kid at all with Suede. Shutting the book, she looked at the title: Long Live the Queen of Disco: The Definitive Guide to Sauna Summers. “This is supposed to be definitive? Even the title puts ‘Queen’ first,” Vinyl remarked with confused disgust. “This book is… garbage?” It didn’t tell the reader anything about the real Sauna Summers. It was filled with her accolades, riches, prestige, fame, and gossip. Unless Summers abandoned who she was later in life, none of that mattered to the mare that Vinyl had gotten to know. Those were Canterlot elite values, not hers. It was no wonder history had forgotten everypony around Summers. History hadn’t even bothered to remember Sauna Summers herself. Vinyl grabbed the useless book in her magic and shut down the studio. She wanted answers, and she was going to get them from Summers’ biggest fan in the world. As usual, Vinyl had found Fancy in his study, buried beneath a mountain of work. Since he’d told them about the summit, the stallion was spending most of his time getting things ready for his temporary return to Equestrian diplomacy. If he wasn’t out and about, he was sitting behind his desk, sporting his comfy turtleneck and humble reading glasses, pouring over details for the delegation’s visit. She’d almost backed out of asking him about the book, but when he noticed the title on the cover, he figured it was as good a time as any for a break with good company. They had moved over to the fireplace for him to read over Vinyl’s earmarked sections. She watched him from the couch as he casually read through the book in his favorite reading chair, and the wait was getting to her. The fact Fancy hadn’t recognized the book at all was a worrying sign. She couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t at least know about it. Vinyl took another swig of her peppermint tea, hoping it’d calm her down. If it wasn’t the book spiking her nerves, it was just being around the stallion in the first place. After finding out about his diplomatic assignment, Fleur hadn’t come back to the mansion. She had no interest in seeing him set up for another highbrow party, and was outright against Vinyl’s participation in the whole ordeal. So for now, it was just the two of them when Dapper and Fluffs were busy working. While a part of Vinyl missed seeing Fleur every day, a tinier part of her was happy to have so much uninterrupted time with Fancy Pants. “You’re right. It is quite sparse on the details,” Fancy noted as he flipped through the last pages. Vinyl snapped out of her musings with a shake of her head. “Right. Doesn’t that bother you?” “What do you mean?” Viny paused and blinked. “What do you mean, ‘what do you mean?’” Vinyl fired back. “It’s a book about your mom that doesn’t tell anypony anything useful about her!” Fancy lowered the book slightly to get a better look at his company across the fireplace. “It’s about her career. From what I can tell, it documents that aspect of her life fairly accurately.” “But it feels so wrong! How can it be definitive if it misses the most important parts? It doesn’t have anything about her life, her friends, or even you! I’m surprised you never complained about it.” Fancy shrugged. “I never bothered reading it since I would’ve heard most of this first-hoof. I’d honestly forgotten that this book existed.” “Wouldn’t they have asked you about her as a source?” Fancy shook his head as he continued to read. “How is that even possible? You’re her son! You’d think they’d at least ask you one question.” “I have a hunch about that one.” Fancy turned back to the front of the book and looked at the title page. He narrowed his eyes as he read the fine print. “Here we are. That would explain it. Looking at the publication year, it seems the ponies behind this book were trying to capitalize on her passing.” “And that means what?” “I would’ve been unavailable to comment on anything here. This was written during my ‘extended diplomatic mission’ in Prance for two years.” “What in the world would’ve taken you two years to do in Prance?” “It wasn’t exactly a mission, but a temporary stationing until things calmed down here. Remember, Sauna Summers was a celebrity. Princess Celestia understood the problems that came with having a famous mother. I was allowed to work from outside of Canterlot until I was ready.” “But two years? I mean, not to sound rude, but that’s like a lot, right?” “It wasn’t as if I completely abandoned my duties. I simply worked remotely among other things.” “They could’ve at least tried to mail you for a comment.” “If they did, I threw it away as junk mail. I only responded to missives from the castle or Princess Celestia herself.” Fancy sighed as he looked at the effigy of his mother on the shimmering cover. “I needed to get away. There were so many ponies offering their thoughts and well-wishes, but most were only doing so to be seen doing it. In a word, it was exhausting. Even if they were the well-meaning ones, at some point, I simply grew tired of the constant reminder that she was gone. You can't move on like that.” Vinyl frowned as she tried to wrap her head around it. She didn’t even know Summers until after she’d been long dead, but she still felt a deep connection with the mare just from listening to her over the records. It was hard knowing she’d never get the chance to actually meet Summers. “That sucks,” Vinyl complained absently. Fancy coughed as an unexpected laugh escaped him. “Indeed, it does! As always, you have quite the way with words, Vinyl.” “What? You said you didn’t want sympathy. ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t seem right.” “Right you are. I appreciate the forethought.” Fancy took another look at the book before hovering it to Vinyl. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” “Umm, what about the book?” “As I said, it was sparse on the details. It’s to be expected, considering it appears to be mostly compiled from Groovecasters interviews and news articles.” “But there’s nothing about her here,” Vinyl pressed. “It’s all this ‘Queen of Disco’ nonsense.” Fancy hummed to himself as he regarded the biography. “I’m not sure I’d go so far to say it’s nonsense. The book does serve its stated purpose. I can’t hold it against the author if their attention was focused solely on that.” “But it misses so much! Summers was far more than what this stupid book says! They should’ve at least mentioned the fact she had you!” “That’s probably for the best anyway.” “What? Why?” Fancy took a few ponderous moments to admire the fire as he gave the question some thought. “I wasn’t exactly a critical figure in her career.” “How could you say that?” Vinyl asked in utter confusion. “You’re her son!” “I wouldn’t have been much help in what this book wants to do. At this point, you likely know more about Mother’s early life than I ever did by listening to her records.” “But that’s not important. You know what made her special, what made her Sauna Summers.” “Special to me, yes. But that has no bearing on her time as the Queen of Disco.” “Who cares about that? If somepony really wanted to read a definitive book about her, this fails epically! She didn’t care about her career, she just wanted ponies to be happy, and nopony seems to even acknowledge that! They just say she was a trendsetting pony who rose to become the biggest star of her generation. They missed everything actually great about her.” Fancy smiled sadly. “Well, it is wonderful that you think that. I look forward to hearing more about what you uncover about her to correct the record.” If Vinyl ever found the author of the biography, she certainly owed them a solid hoof to the chin. While the aggregation of information was certainly helpful for pinpointing dates, the aggravating lack of Summers’ influence on the book gave a hollow impression of the mare. In Vinyl’s mind, the author had missed the entire point. She wasn’t just a fabulously successful singer, Sauna Summers was a real pony. “If that is all, I really should get back to work,” Fancy said as he began to sit up from his chair. “But, wait… this isn’t right! Why aren’t you more upset by this?” “It’s just a book, Vinyl,” Fancy dismissed. “It’s not just a book. It’s the book! There’s nothing on her outside of this! Maybe she slipped into other books about the era or disco, but this is the only guide to Sauna Summers.” “Perhaps I could commission a writer to do a more complete work on my mother once the archiving is done.” “But it’d still miss who she was outside of the studio.” “Not entirely. I’m sure Princess Celestia wouldn’t mind sharing a few tidbits about her friend. And, if I can recall them, I could add a few childhood stories as well.” Stories about Summers? Stories from when Fancy was a colt? A tug pulled at Vinyl’s heart. I want to hear those. Turning towards the fireplace, Vinyl could see the filly again. It was the clearest she’d ever appeared, a spitting image of her younger self before she’d earned her cutie mark. Her little self was bundled up in the sweater she wished she was wearing. It was wrapped around her like a massive blanket as she sipped a warm mug of her favorite cocoa. Vinyl felt a ping of jealousy seeing the filly draped in all the things she desired. At first, the spark had been a welcome change from her other unwelcome thoughts, but she was starting to worry about these desires of hers becoming more substantial. They always showed up at the worst times, making her self-conscious about every little thing. She watched the fire for a few more moments, hoping the moment would pass, but her spark was having none of it. What are you waiting for? These thoughts were going to be the death of her. She didn’t even know how to broach the topic. Why do you have to overthink everything? Just ask him nicely. Right, that’d actually work. Why hadn’t she thought of—well, technically she had. Vinyl cleared her throat. “Can you tell me some of those then?” Fancy paused. “I beg your pardon?” “The stories you remember from when you were little. Can you tell me some?” “What does my experience have to do with the archive?” Fancy asked, dumbfounded by her curiosity. And that’s why she wanted to think about it. What’s wrong with telling the truth? “Nothing,” she answered aloud without thinking. Vinyl needed to be more careful. “I mean, at least not right now. I… I just want to hear them, maybe?” Fancy put a hoof to his chin as he considered the DJ’s request. Finally he relented with a shrug. “If it will help, then ask away. What would you like to know about?” Vinyl cursed herself mentally while eyeing the filly. She hadn’t thought that far ahead, or at all for that matter. Seriously? Anything’s fine, right? “I guess anything that comes to mind.” “Anything? I’m not sure how that’s supposed to help your research.” Vinyl clopped her forehooves together nervously. “It won’t. I just kinda… wanna know more about—” You. “—her,” Vinyl finished succinctly. She really needed her heart to learn to shut up for once. “Of course. I’d be happy to talk about Mother,” Fancy replied, bringing Vinyl back to Equestria. “I still might need a visual aid to remember the finer details. Give me a moment.” Fancy stood up from his reading chair and walked over to a nearby bookshelf. Vinyl hadn’t noticed in the sea of books around them, but there were several rows that contained binders instead. The filly bounced over next to Fancy to get a better look, which was absurd considering the figment of her imagination wouldn’t be able to see anything. Then get over here. You know you want to. Vinyl adjusted herself on the couch in defiance of herself, finding a more comfortable position before taking a cozy sip from her tea. Fine. Be that way. “Are those binders?” Vinyl asked to sate her curiosity. “Photo albums,” he answered while making a selection. “I thought you said Summers didn’t like those.” “She didn’t.” Fancy made his way back to his seat, the little filly following curiously the entire way trying to sneak a peek at the contents. “There were a lot more collages hanging up before I took over the estate. The only one left untouched is the one in the studio wing.” “Why’d you take them down?” “Oh, you know. Just to make room for my things. I also don’t walk down that way very often.” Fancy smiled diplomatically before taking his seat. Vinyl didn’t like that answer. Neither did the filly, but for once, she didn’t have a comment. “Okay. Let’s see if I can jog the old memory,” Fancy muttered to himself as he opened the thick tome. There was a crackle of old plastic as he turned the photo sleeve pages one after another. Vinyl could only guess what he was looking for. The filly had taken a more proactive approach by hopping up next to him and marveling at each page despite having no clue what she was seeing. Deep down, was Vinyl really that childish? Yep! “Mind if I take a look?” Vinyl asked while shooting a quick glare at the filly sticking her tongue out. “Oh sure, feel free.” Fancy closed the album and levitated it to Vinyl. She took the album in her magic and curled her brow at the stallion. Shrugging it off, she turned her attention to the photos. Ahem! Before Vinyl had glanced at a single picture, she looked back up to see the filly staring at her expectantly, motioning between Vinyl and Fancy. She pointed to the couch she was laying down on and how it could easily seat two ponies side-by-side. Vinyl shook her head no. The filly nodded an emphatic yes. There was no way she was going to ask Fancy to sit next to her. Then how are you supposed to know what the photos are about? They could just levitate the album back and forth. It wasn’t a big deal. That’s super annoying! But it was also safe. Safe from what? Vinyl didn’t know the answer to that. Yes you do! “Is something the matter, Vinyl?” Fancy asked. “Yes. I mean, no!” Vinyl quickly amended before mentally cursing herself as the filly smiled victoriously. “You can say whatever is on your mind, Vinyl,” Fancy assured to the filly’s utter delight. She really needed to learn to shut up. “The thing is, I know what I’m looking for, but I don’t know what I’m looking at.” Fancy nodded in understanding. “I’d be more than happy to explain anything you find in there.” Vinyl took a deep breath and adjusted herself to make room for Fancy to sit next to her on the couch. Reading the cues, Fancy acquiesced with a nod. “I suppose it would make things easier. Should we return to the desk?” The desk would allow them to sit at a comfortable distance. He could sit on across from him as he— Don’t you dare say yes. “No. I like being next to the fire.” “As do I,” Fancy agreed as he took another moment to think about it. “Very well. As long as you don’t mind.” As Fancy stood up and trotted towards the couch, Vinyl felt the weight of the spark completely shooting her nerves. It didn’t make sense. She’d spent plenty of time with him before. She’d played music for him, gone sledding, and even been hugged by him. Fancy’s mere proximity shouldn’t have been affecting her as much as it was. Looking around for an answer, her cheeky little self was nowhere to be seen. Vinyl decided right then and there: crushes were the worst. Fancy was about to sit down but stopped. “Would you prefer to sit on the side closer to the fireplace?” “O-oh! Yeah. Thanks.” Vinyl quickly scooted over towards the fire side. “You’re welcome. I’m dressed a bit warmer than you are, after all.” Fancy sat next to Vinyl and smiled as he opened the album and began slowly flipping through the pages of photos. “So, does anything catch your eye?” Vinyl didn’t want to answer that one. Several unbidden ideas had already run through her head, and none of them involved the photo album. One needling desire in particular felt drawn to the stallion’s shoulder. It looked so comfortable and tempting to lean against. She wasn’t supposed to be a touchy-feely mare. Are you sure? No, she wasn’t. Vinyl refused to acquiesce and refocused her attention to the album, pointing her hoof at a random photo to get herself out of her head. Fancy furrowed his brow. “That one?” “Yeah, sure.” “While it was a performance, it’s not exactly what I’d call musical. Summers isn’t even in it.” Finally looking at the picture, she had pointed to one with a very young Fancy Pants seated next to a casually dressed Suede Shoes in a stadium. Fancy’s eyes were trained on the skies as he held onto his little blue and yellow flags while Suede looked sidelong towards the camera with an inquisitive smirk. His raised brow wondered why the photographer wasn’t watching the show despite knowing the answer to his unspoken question. “Well, Summers took the picture, right?” Vinyl deflected. “Fair enough, I suppose. I must’ve either five or six years old here. The memories are a bit hazy, but I think this was the first time we went to Las Pegasus for a Wonderbolt show. I used to be obsessed with them thanks to Mother.” “I thought you weren’t supposed to take pictures at an airshow,” Vinyl pondered as her eyes drifted to the adorably excited colt. “Flash photography is certainly prohibited, yes. At least that’s the excuse Mother gave everypony. By this time, Suede had already bought her the imaging camera to save on film, so she brought it everywhere.” Vinyl flipped to the next page, seeing more pictures of them at the stadium. He looked so excited in every shot until the last picture where he was sound asleep under his mother’s caring wings. Summers herself glowed as she nuzzled him. The longer she looked, the less she focused on Fancy and just stared at Sauna Summers’ maternal beauty. If only she’d gotten to meet her. If her mom had been half— Vinyl cleared her throat and turned the page back. “I didn’t even think they had crystalline capture back then. At least not scaled down to emulate Ponaroid cameras.” “You’re not entirely wrong. Mother was always on the cutting edge of technology. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was using one of the first of its kind on the market.” Vinyl smirked. “I bet that was Sunny’s fault. She’s usually the one that’s introducing Summers to new tech on the recordings. Sunny provided the group with their first synthesizer.” “You know, the more I hear about this Sunny character, the more curious I become. Have you had a chance to listen to Mother’s later work?” “No. I haven’t gotten there yet.” “You might find it interesting when you do. After disco went out of style, she pivoted to a more synthetic sound with the style of music I enjoyed when I was younger. I always thought she was simply trying to emulate who I liked at the time, but perhaps it was the other way around with her inspiring the rest.” Vinyl’s ear flicked. When she’d offered to play him some of her music, she’d never been able to get anything out of him that was sensible, but perhaps she’d been focused too much on what she knew. “What kind of music were you into back then?” Fancy shrugged. “I suppose, most anything from the New Wave.” “Like, the whole thing? That’s kind of a lot of genres.” “Sorry. I’m not entirely sure what to call it specifically. I mostly defaulted to liking what was popular at the time in the clubs, or at least pretending to anyway.” “So, we talking pop, hip-hop, mane metal, or what?” Fancy chuckled nervously as he scratched the back of his neck. “Admittedly, I never bothered to learn the terms, but they sound familiar.” Vinyl sighed to herself. He was just as useless as Fleur in the musicology category. “Okay, maybe just try naming some bands, I guess?” “That I can do.” Fancy’s turned his eyes up as he considered his answer. “Over the years, I’ve drifted away from the more energetic parts of the New Wave like Drakkenponk and Dueling Durians. The music I still enjoy now from my youth is the gentler and smoother music, my personal favorite to this day being Shade.” Vinyl perked up. She knew that name! “Dulcet Darkness?” Fancy smiled widely. “Oh, so you know them as well? That’s one of my favorite albums.” “Them? I thought Shade was just her name.” “You’re not wrong. The lead singer’s name is Soothe Shade, but Shade is also the name of the band behind her. I was fortunate enough to meet her once in Hollow Shades. It’s just hard for me to get to their concerts since they keep their nocturne schedule and are known to play exceedingly late.” “I didn’t realize she was still making music.” “That’s not exactly the way to look at her work,” Fancy corrected. “Soothe Shade is the kind of pony who makes art when she has an idea, and only when she has an idea. She does concerts every-so-often, but her albums are few and far between. It might be a few years or a decade, but when she has something to say, she sings it perfectly.” “That would explain why I can never find her stuff. While contralto isn’t the norm for trance, she’s a great artist to pull samples from for remixes. I’ve been known to insert ‘Cherish Today’ and a few other songs of hers while doing live mashups.” “Intriguing.” Fancy nodded his head, causing Vinyl to pause, having slipped into musician mode. “Do… do you want me to explain what I just said?” Fancy chuckled from being caught again. “I suppose that could be helpful, if you’d be so kind.” “Mashups are when you blend samples and songs together, layering bits and pieces over each other until you’ve made something new. As for contralto, it’s considered the lowest female vocal singing range. It’s where I’m at. Most trance uses mezzo-soprano and soprano, which are higher pitches, but Shade is an exception.” “Good to know you have good taste in the artists I grew up with. So, do you sing for your songs as well?” “Oh, no-no-no,” Vinyl corrected quickly. “My voice is a bit rough around the edges. Nothing like her satin smooth voice.” “Just because it’s different, doesn’t mean it’s bad. At least you can probably carry a tune. I’ve been told I’m a bit tone deaf by Fleur.” “But your coloratura is so full though,” Vinyl remarked with disappointment. “My what?” Vinyl smacked herself for thoughtlessly slipping in another musical term. “Sorry. I meant to say the color of your voice. It’s got a refined and dignified depth to it. You know, I bet you’d put up a good fight against Suede if you tried.” Fancy laughed. “While I appreciate the compliment, I will have to say ‘ladies first’ to that one, Vinyl.” She replied with a waning laugh of her own. “No thanks. I’d rather not do disservice to the greats.” “Now, I wouldn’t go that far. I’m sure you have a lovely singing voice. It has a lovely color to it as well, even if it is ‘scratchy,’ Vinyl.” “Thanks.” Mercifully, the terrible pun undermined his charm and stopped her from blushing. “Anyway, I’ve also mixed Shade with deep house artists like Kool Kommandant and DJ Gryphoria to make some really chill mixes.” Fancy recoiled slightly. “I’m honestly quite surprised. The music I’ve heard from you is usually so energetic, especially what you played the other day. I thought my teeth were going to rattle out of my mouth.” “That was dubstep. Lucky for you, I played it quietly,” Vinyl remarked as she lightly jabbed the stallion. Fancy’s face sank in shock. “That was quiet?” “Trust me. It’s usually played loud enough to feel it shake the room. Dubstep’s not my favorite, but the low frequency of the wobble bass interferes with the noise suppression magical field around the Drive.” Vinyl snickered to herself at the growing horror on the stallion’s face. “So yeah, play it loud enough and the nobles hate it. That’s more than enough reason for me.” “Admittedly, I’d probably get upset as well.” “Yeah, I could tell. That’s why I stopped after the sample. You, uh… you didn’t seem to like it much.” “Sorry, Vinyl. It wasn’t my proverbial cup of tea,” he admitted as he lifted his own to his mouth and took a sip. “However, it was good to experience some of what modern music is like. We’ll probably need to put such music outside facing away from the city proper.” “You’re kidding right? You want me to play dubstep for the delegation? Are you trying to start an international incident?” The stallion smiled without a hint of sarcasm. “Not at all. If you think it’d be a good example of what the Drive is today, you’re welcome to. What would you rather play?” “Well, I mean sure, dubstep is popular right now, but I just like playing all kinds of music. It can be whatever you think you want them to hear.” “You seem to be missing the point, Vinyl. What I want is to hear what you want to play. Just like how I’d like the caterers to make the food they want to make the most. It’s all about what you lo—rather, enjoy doing.” “R-right,” Vinyl mumbled as she tried to find a way to shift the subject away from her. “So, you like Shade, right? What got you into her?” Fancy’s brow furrowed as his face fell. “That is a bit of a story, and not a very good one.” Vinyl didn’t want to pry— It’s not prying. It’s supportive! It was clear to her that it was an uncomfortable topic for him. He listened to your tantrum in the library. That helped you. Vinyl took a bracing breath and shuffled slightly in her seat, making herself a bit more comfortable, before giving Fancy her undivided attention. Fancy smiled softly and nodded. “Very well. Do you know their breakout album, Diamond Nights?” “I should have it somewhere in my record collection, but I can’t remember which songs are on it aside from ‘Smooth Operator.’” “That’s actually the one I was going to bring up. It’s about a handsome world traveler who goes around making mares swoon for him and living the high life.” Vinyl tapped her chin. “That’s not how I remember it. I thought the song was about a sleazy business pony who goes around breaking the hearts of mares.” “But only if you properly interpret it that way, right?” Fancy suggested as he took the photo album with his magic. He began skimming through the photos, turning further and further into the future until finally settling on one of the last pages. “For a certain stupid and impressionable colt, that pony was somepony to be admired. A much younger and dumber Fancy Pants wanted to be a smooth operator, but he was a bit too dimwitted to figure out how.” Vinyl was met with the face of a young stallion, sneering at the camera. “Is that a mullet?” “Indeed it is.” Her eyes wandered down his painfully dated hairstyle to the bright red jacket sporting shoulder pads so large that you could moor an airship on. “And you’re wearing a Glitzy Glamour jacket?” “It’s a Radical Racing Jacket, or a ‘Rad Racer’ as we called it, but yes. The very same style he popularized during his Pop Rock-it tour. I tried on a lot of looks, but I wore that one the most.” “Yeah. That’s not exactly what I’d consider…” “Smooth?” Fancy finished as Vinyl nodded half-heartedly. “I agree, but you must remember, past Fancy Pants was an imbecile. Rebellious while trying—and failing—to be cooler than both the Queen of Disco and the King of Swing. Poor fool didn’t stand a chance.” Seeing Fancy Pants like this really drove home their age difference for her. She’d only seen ponies dressed like him in books and New Wave-themed raves. There was never anypony seriously wearing the look. Browsing the other photos, Fancy seemed… unapproachable. “I mean, you don’t look bad,” Vinyl offered. “You’re too kind. But, that’s a bit of a problem. I definitely wanted to look ‘so badd’ as we said at the time. Perhaps even a ‘Badd Little Pone,’” Fancy joked, adding a little gravel into his voice. It took a moment for Vinyl’s head to make the connection, and she dry-heaved in disgust. “Sweet Celestia, don’t tell me you actually like that song!” “At the time, it was one of the buh-buh-buh-baddest songs you could listen to.” “Gah! Don’t do the ‘B’ thing too!” Vinyl could hear the corny singing starting to worm its way into her brain. Her brain scrambled to play any catchy melody she could think of to wash the song out. “I can’t imagine anypony ever thinking it was good, bad, or whatever. It’s like moldy cheese being stuffed in your ears with how it gets stuck in your head.” “Admittedly, it didn’t age well. Movies playing it to death didn’t help either. That being said, I thought the guitar solo was fun though.” Vinyl’s face sunk into a withered glare, earning a laugh from Fancy Pants who reveled in the schadenfreude. There was nothing redeeming about that song. Even at the time, it was dated. It was just an awful song all around. “Isn’t it just a jab at Princess Celestia since she calls everypony ‘her little ponies?’” Vinyl asked. Fancy’s eyes widened. He concentrated as he mouthed a few of the lyrics. “You know, I never thought about it like that. Perhaps it does lean a little treasonous.” Fancy brushed it off. “No matter. I liked Glam’s ‘Badd’ better anyway.” “That I can agree with. Hard to go wrong with the Prince of Pop.” “Good. I’d have to question your tastes if you couldn’t appreciate one of the greatest performers of all time.” Vinyl rolled her eyes as she went back to the album. Looking over the photos, Fancy was a dwindling presence in them. Each page showed a stallion who simply did not want to be wherever he was pictured. They usually captured him mid-eyeroll or wearing an utterly forced smile if he could even be bothered to do so at all. His ever-shifting wardrobe was a garish display of colorful wealth. The worst picture was him looking ready to fight his mother’s wings off his withers. “Wow. That’s some distilled teen angst right there,” Vinyl remarked with a straining smile. “The definition of a ‘poser’ when looking back. Always chasing the trends, spreading me all over the spectrum when it came to the New Wave. That colt was trying too hard to be a badd, yet smooth operator while dressed as a radical pop star. The only thing he was good at was throwing his parent’s money around to buy things he thought he wanted in a desperate bid to satiate his ego.” “Well, at least you got over it,” Vinyl said as she turned her eyes to the stallion. She wet her lips debating whether or not to say what was on her mind. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re plenty smooth now.” “What?” Fancy snickered in depreciating disbelief. “Me? Smooth?” “It’s a different, classier smooth, but yeah. At least you pull off sweaters better than I do,” she said while admiring his black turtleneck. Fancy laughed heartily. “I didn’t think I pulled off much of anything these days, but I’ll take the compliment. On that note, I wasn’t aware that you wore sweaters at all. You always leave for shows in those hoodies of yours.” Vinyl smirked confidently. “While DJ Pon-3 would never, Vinyl Scratch likes wearing sweaters that are way too big for her and just snuggling up in the sea of wool. Sometimes, I just pull into one entirely and become a pony burrito.” “Fleur would do the same thing when she was a filly,” Fancy noted with a hint of nostalgia before catching himself. “Now, that’s not to say such behavior is childish, mind you.” “Nah, I get it.” Vinyl waved it off as she recalled the last time she’d seen a loaf of Fleur. “She got stuck once, and I had to get her out of it. She’s thin, but she’s still got a whole lot of leg-length along with one really sharp horn to cram into a sweater without ripping it.” “Big ponies like us tend to get in trouble in tight situations,” Fancy joked as he started flipping further into the future. Finally, they arrived at a picture of him standing next to a wall with Summers fluttering in the air. She was pointing at a line above his head while Fancy did his best to ignore her. “When was this?” Vinyl asked. Fancy pointed a hoof at the wall behind his younger self. “My thirteenth birthday. You can tell because of the height chart behind me there.” Looking at the numbers behind him, she definitely saw a jump between the numbers ten and eleven. She turned her head back and forth between the photo and the stallion himself. “You look just like you do now.” “Minus the wear and tear, yes. It runs through Suede’s side of the family. Simply full of early bloomers.” Fancy pointed to the bottom of a number obscured by his chin. “It’s hard to tell because she’s fluttering off the ground a little, but I was already taller than Mother when I was eleven.” Looking between the picture pair, Fancy seemed like he didn’t want to be there at all while Summers seemed to be marveling at the sight of her statuesque son. Looking at the next photo, Fancy and Suede were standing shoulder to shoulder while Summers was wedged between the two of them, the littler mare in the mix. While Fancy’s acidic attitude bled through the frame alongside his father’s forced smile, clearly irritated with unnecessary bitterness, Summers shone like the sun every time. Without fail, Fancy’s mom was always elated to be with her two stallions. “She looks so effortlessly happy every time.” “As opposed to me,” Fancy muttered as he looked his younger self in the eyes. “I’d gotten terribly sick of the constant photography long before this one was taken. She had this habit of stopping every moment to snap a picture for posterity. Mother was her own personal paparazzi.” “Why did she take so many pictures anyway?” A wave of nostalgia wiped across his smiling face. “She enjoyed capturing moments, but more importantly, it helped her jog her memory. I have a greater appreciation for it now since I inherited a little of her absentmindedness. Mother used her photos and records. I use my notes and schedules.” “From what she tells me, Fluffs uses the notes and schedules. You just follow them.” “True, considering I might forget to look at it.” Fancy laughed a little too hard at that jab. His laughter grew as he tried to distract himself from the album, but he finally looked back down to see the pages and pages of his younger self scowling. “Oh, looking at these is just so aggravating. I treated her terribly for no good reason.” Vinyl bit her lip. “Well, teens are jerks. I mean, even though fifteen is the big year, we’re still all pretty stupid then.” “No, Vinyl. No. It went beyond that. Way beyond that. I was cruel and primed to become just another spoiled, ungrateful little scoundrel of Canterlot. I abused my talent to get what I wanted out of anypony I targeted.” Fancy sucked in his lips as he looked back at Summers trying her best to hug Fancy. “And the easiest mark for me was always Mother.” “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—” “Please, Vinyl.” Fancy frowned in discomfort as he looked over to her. He took a deep breath and refreshed himself with a diplomatic smile. “It’s probably for the best if you get the full picture since you’ve been living here for a while. I know I’ve explained my talents to you before, but there is a darker side to them. I can get to know somepony well enough—” Fancy drifted as his mask slipped into a pained grimace. “Well enough to know the optimal way to tear somepony down to their very core.” Fancy let the idea hang in the air, waiting to see how she would respond. For her part, Vinyl wasn’t sure how to take it. She knew he wouldn’t use that against her. She trusted him, even if it was foolish to do so. Why do you always have to… ugh, forget it. Seeing nothing from Vinyl, Fancy continued. “Interpersonal skills can go both ways. All I had to do was compare somepony to another, more talented pony, or figure out what they hate most about themselves and use it against them. I took comfort knowing that no matter what, I could always turn it around and deal a fatal blow when I wanted to win. There was no stopping me when it came to getting my way.” Fancy turned the page, seeing another collage of bitter selves sneering, scowling, and shrugging everything off no matter who got hurt. “I thought I was invincible. Not even the promise of working with Princess Celestia was enough to temper my raging ego. To me, it was simply the logical outcome. I deserved it because of who I was.” Against her better judgment, Vinyl slowly reached her hoof out towards him. “What finally broke you out of it?” Fancy closed his eyes. “Mother’s death.” Though she could feel the fire at her side, all the warmth had been sapped from the room. Fancy’s face was, in a word, complicated. He licked his drying lips as his eyes drifted forward in thought. She could see his horn flickering with unstable magic, with the subtle sounds of the fire masking the thrum of his stress casting. “I’m sorry, Fancy. You don’t need—” Realizing he had drifted off, Fancy took a shuddering breath and cleared his throat. Vinyl quickly retracted her hoof before he noticed it. “Sorry, I was just recalling that, well, it wasn’t just that. My time in Prance finally humbled me. Living somewhere that nopony knew who I was made me realize just how little I really had. How vapid my ‘power’ was. I wish I could say for certain I would’ve grown out of it eventually, but seeing ponies like Blueblood still at it? It’s wishful thinking. I know I’d never learn to appreciate Mother while she was alive. “I am only who I am now because she is no longer with us. The ‘me’ everypony knows now would’ve never been able to meet her. Truly, I hate that more than anything.” An oppressive silence settled on the two as he stared daggers at the album. There was a righteous fury in his gaze, but still, it didn’t look much different than the withering anger so prominently displayed in the album. Fancy looked at Vinyl out of the corner of his eyes and quickly blinked away the vitriol boiling within. “Sorry about that. It’s just that…” Fancy sighed and chewed his lip before continuing. “I’d give anything to redo the last time I saw her. I was throwing an inane tantrum about some nonsense that I don’t even remember, and probably ignoring any advice she was giving me before I stormed out of the studio with all the answers already decided in my head. She was just some dated has-been with no friends while I surrounded myself with ponies I’d bought off. I ripped into her for it. I knew her loneliness would hurt her. So I did, easily, without a second thought.” Loneliness? That didn’t sound like Summers. “You said you didn’t know Sunny, but I didn’t think that meant she really didn’t have any friends.” “No. She only had Princess Celestia and Suede Shoes in the end. I was there, but… you know how much good that did her.” “Are you sure? No Sunny, Springstep, or Autumn Aria?” “Those are the ponies that were with her in her early days, right? If I did, I don’t remember now. Even in my childhood, it was always just the three of us and Dapper. There was also the occasional visit from the princess, but perhaps we could just ask Summers herself.” Fancy suggested as he jostled the album. Vinyl nodded and took the binder in her magic and turned back to the first page to begin her search. As her magic flipped through it, dozens of photos sped by with the occasional appearance by Princess Celestia and Dapper Dandy. She stopped to see the odd maid or butler over the years, but they weren’t exactly what Vinyl was looking for. Even if she could think of a few excuses for their absence, there was no getting past it constantly being just Fancy and his parents. She’d spot a party in Canterlot with the other nobles, but they were always gathered closer around Suede or Fancy while Summers seemed to struggle to fit in. There’d be a professional photo or magazine snippet of her with fans, but it never looked intimate like the photos of Summers with her family. She’d be singing at a show or caught candidly out with Suede, but there was never anypony else. Years passed as Vinyl poured over the pages. Summers’ smile became more subdued as everypony grew older. Fancy went from an adorable colt to an insufferable teenager. And through it all there was nothing, nothing, and more nothing. Landing on the last page, Vinyl saw Summers seated on her bed with a pen in her mouth as she drafted music. There was no conclusion to it, just a story midway through its telling that was cut short. “The other albums are like this one. Feel free to look through them, but you’ll probably see more of the same.” Fancy’s eyes wandered back to his mother’s face. He smiled wistfully and placed his hoof next to her head before reverently shutting the album and closing his eyes. “Sorry, Vinyl. Looking at these pictures. Mother deserved so much better than me. It’s sickening to think that had she lived, I’d likely still be a horrible, entitled fool towards her.” Vinyl couldn’t stand seeing Fancy Pants tear himself apart like this. She tapped her hooves rhythmically on the cushion as she tried to think of something to say, but she was drawing a blank. There were so many generic things running through her mind, and they were all crap. His horn was still glowing unsteadily. Stop thinking and do something, stupid! “Well uhh… at least now you’re just a normal idiot, right?” Fancy’s eyes shot open and he slowly turned to Vinyl, utterly flabbergasted by her response. Wha—what did you just say? Vinyl forced a smile through her awkwardness. She was really starting to loathe her spark. Fancy balking was fractured by a nasally snickering before his guffaws broke through his stunned silence. Vinyl joined in nervously, wondering why they were laughing. “Oh dear,” he said as he caught his breath. “Right you are, you gifted unicorn, you,” Fancy said as he ruffled her mane. “These days, instead of outwardly and awkwardly denying it, I nod along until somepony notices. Unfortunately, this fool can’t seem to sneak anything by you.” “Yeah. I’m just kind of observant, I guess,” she mumbled as she scratched the back of her head. “You are always so unexpectedly refreshing, Vinyl. Thank you.” Turning her eyes up to Fancy’s horn and saw it had stopped its errant spellcasting. “Of course, Fancy. Anytime.” “I’ll be sure to take you up on that offer if you’re willing to put up with my rambling.” She was about to heave a relieved sigh as her eyes drifted back down to the smile pulling at Fancy’s lips. It wasn’t a wide, toothy grin, but a subtler one of tender relief and appreciation. The glow of the fireplace caught his eyes, bringing a gentle, caring light to the piercing blue of his tender gaze. She could tell. She’d helped. She’d actually helped him. Vinyl Scratch hadn’t messed up. Fancy’s face fell into a troubled frown as he tilted his head. “Vinyl? Are you alright?” And then the moment was gone, realizing she’d been staring. “Sorry. I just… sorry.” “There’s nothing to be sorry for, though I should apologize for getting a little side-tracked. You were wanting to hear about my mother, not me.” “Right,” she lied. Fancy’s ear flicked as he cleared his throat. “Anyway, this was a good kickstart to the old cogs in here,” he said as he tapped the side of his head. “Why don’t I tell you about one of the times I watched her and Suede produce one of their later duet albums?” “Sure! That sounds great.” “I don’t think I saw any of the photos from those sessions here.” Fancy tapped the album’s back cover before lifting it with his magic. I’ll go see if I can track it down.” Fancy hopped off the sofa and went back to the bookcase. Vinyl watched him as he pulled a random binder off the shelf and flipped through it. A smile crossed his face as he poured over the memories within. After a few moments, he put it back and took another and cracked it open. As Vinyl waited for him to return, she levitated another log into the fire to keep it burning. The embers beside her didn’t hold a candle to the warmth sparking within her heart when Fancy was close. She couldn’t wait for him to sit back down and tell her another story. Vinyl decided right then and there: crushes were the best.