Chapter three, this was fun to write, I hope you enjoy it. Please visit my ask tumblr if anyone is interested.
Staccato’s carriage bumped and shook as it cruised over the dirt road. His ear buds blasted electric techno into his ears, and he liked to believe that every bounce in the road matched up perfectly to the bass. Even if he was too overly lenient on the timing. Dozens of raindrops constantly pecked at his window, he liked to imagine that those matched perfectly to the synth, and again, he was too lenient on the timing.
He took one ear bud out of his head, glaring at it with exasperation. Since Glowstix shoved him out of the Crescendo building and, quite literally, locked him out, he had left his favorite headphones at his desk. Now he was forced to use a pair of cheaper, low quality ones he had found in a general store.
“I am not letting you back into this building until the end of next week!” Staccato recalled Glowstix bark as he was shoved quite forcefully out of the front door.
“Two whole weeks?! I was just going to go for a couple of days!” Staccato wailed, horrified.
“No! You are going to take a long vacation and enjoy it!” Glowstix shouted as he slammed the front door, a loud click cracking through the air as he locked it tight.
“These ear buds sound worse than those garbage pop songs the fillies and colts like so much these days..” He grumbled, reluctantly shoving them back in his ear. He looked at his FiMPod, that he was luckily able to retrieve before he was “escorted” out of the building. He never understood why they were called “FiMPods” What exactly did the FiM stand for anyways? He guess that the “i” could stand for himself, because of the wide array customization options that it offered. But why the F and the M? And why the “pod”? It certainly did not look like a pod, it was very geometrical, not circular at all besides the couple of buttons. He then realized how bored he must have been to contemplate the purpose of a electronic device.
He gazed at the time, 12:56, just past noon. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled. Staccato now recalled that he had missed lunch that day, actually, he had missed breakfast that morning as well. The unicorn searched the inside of the carriage for something to calm his stomach, then remembered that he had packed all of his food in the trunk.
“Ugh! This always happens..” Staccato groaned as he slumped into his seat. The stallion cursed as his stomach growled loudly again.
“Shut up you.. I can’t find anything to eat right now, you’ll just have to wait until we stop in Mareami.” He muttered to his stomach, trying to feed it words instead of food. The organ shook and rumbled in argument, but he would have none of it. Staccato turned to a small window located in the front of the carriage. He slowly slid it open and looked through, seeing the two stocky earth ponies pulling his carriage.
“Hey fellas, do you know how long until we make it to Mareami?” The light grey stallion on the left turned his head slightly, not interrupting his pace.
“Still quite a ways a way, I’d say four more hours at most.” Staccato gave a small frustrated groan, making sure that the stallions could not hear.
“Thanks guys, great job by the way, I don’t know how you earth ponies do it.” He finished. The dark brown stallion on the right gave a small chuckle.
“It’s all in the pacing, so long as we don’t move too fast, we can keep going for hours, days even.” Staccato’s eyes widened, flabbergasted and thoroughly impressed.
“Days?” He repeated.
“If the job calls for it yeah, so long as we’re fully rested and well fed that is.” Staccato laughed.
“You guys are doing great, I’ll be sure to pay you well for this.” The grey pony smiled lightly.
“Much obliged sir.” Staccato closed the window and laid down on the length of the seats, he had the cart to himself after all, why let the space go to waste? He looked down at his stomach, rubbing it slightly.
“Hear that? Four hours... Think you can make it?” His stomach grumbled again in protest.
“Yeah didn’t think so..” Staccato stretched himself out on the seats and tried to get some shut
eye. But his stomach was empty and his mind was full, all he could think about was Crescendo Studios back in Manehattan. Was it in good hands? What if Glowstix couldn't finish the paper work in time? Maybe he should go back while he still had the chance.
No it wouldn’t do him any good anyways, Glowstix made sure that the security guards would not give him clearance into the building until next week’s end. How he managed to convince the security guards to not let the CEO into his own company was beyond him. ‘I’ll definitely have to dock his pay when he got back.’ He contemplated jokingly. The unicorn shrugged slightly. Although he did tease Stix a lot, he knew he could trust him. Staccato was just a little paranoid, all he could think about were the “what if’s”.
What if he couldn't finish the paper work? What if the company began to fall again? What if crescendo Studios was shut down? What if a giant meteorite fell from the sky and unleashed a hoard of giant parasprites all over Equestria, devouring everypony and every building in sight? All of these possibilites ran through his mind. Yes, even the last one, just.. not so much.
He readjusted himself on the seats and turned the volume of his music a little higher in an attempt to calm himself.
The other issue on his mind was, the dream. That dream he had when he had fallen asleep in his office, what did it mean? He had not been a DJ in years, and had not played that song even longer. Whenever he did play that song, he always brought his own personal disc, and he never took the second one with him, unless he knew he was collaborating with somepony that night. That empty station, the second disc, why was he dreaming of something he had left behind so long ago? Staccato knew exactly what the dream meant, he just did not want to believe it. He was in complete denial, trying as hard as he could to find, hell even if he just came up with some other scenario that made sense he would be happy, but the unicorn could find none. Nothing else could make any sense and he knew it. The second disc, the empty station, It all pointed to.. her..
When his stomach was empty and his mind was full, Staccato always found it difficult to sleep. Whether it was because that was what his mother always told him, in attempts to convince him to eat more alfalfa, or if it was actually true, he did not know. He only knew that he could never fall peacefully into comatose when he was in this state. Eventually, after quite some time of readjusting and the most calming classical songs he could find on his FiMPod. Staccato and sleep finally found one another.
“Where are you going?!”
“Huh?” Staccato uttered, standing in the exact place where he left off. A young violet mare with a light pink puffy mane standing in front of him, blocking his path to the backstage.
“What?” He questioned, sounding quite stupid, not completely understanding what was going on.
“You’re not thinking of leaving are you? Your shift isn’t over yet!” She pointed a hoof at a white clock on the far side of the bar.
“It’s only 12:56! Your shift is up at 3:00.”
“I- Uh..” Staccato stuttered, still completely confused. The young mare gave an agitated expression.
“What is there not to understand? Get back to work!” She shoved him forcefully back on stage, just as his song was ending. Staccato stumbled forward, almost tripping over his own hooves. He glanced at the turntable, quickly swapping the discs with two random records he had pulled from the shelves, in hopes of not starting a riot again, like he almost did before.
Luckily for him, the songs he choose mixed surprisingly well together. Staccato finally got his bearings again and began to mix the night away. He had not planned anything more for that night, so from then on he had to go improv for the rest of his, apparently extended, shift. Which was met with mixed results, sometimes he would mix the perfect bass and synth together, causing the crowd to explode in cheering and approval. He would have to write down these mixes for future reference.
Other times he would mix together songs that had absolutely nothing to do with each other. In his defense, what kind of techno bar has polka in it’s collection? the crowd would usually respond to this with booing and the usual beer bottles, but by now Staccato had become an expert at dodging the green containers of alcohol.
No sooner than he would have liked, Staccato’s shift finally came to an end as the clock struck 3:00. He smacked the final disc off the track and sent it flipping through the air rapidly, before catching it expertly in it’s specified case. The crowd applauded and cheered as he took a final bow and made his way backstage.
He pulled the curtain open and slipped though into the darkness of the backstage. The bright lights on the stage caused his eyes to have to adjust to the pitch black of the room, as he fumbled around trying to find his way to the exit. Suddenly, he felt something hit his shoulder slightly, It felt firm, yet had a soft texture like somepony’s hoof.
“Ah, excuse me.” Staccato apologized politely to the pony he must have almost bumped into. A smooth and familiar feminine voice responded quickly.
“Not bad out there, but I feel like you were going improv most of the time.” Staccato paused for a moment, trying to identify the voice but he couldn’t quite put his hoof on it. He shrugged and disregarded it, then continued to respond to the actual statement. He chuckled a bit.
“Actually, I was. I thought my shift was over at 1:00 tonight so I didn’t plan for too much. When I was put back on I didn’t have anything ready, so I just improvised the whole time. Who knew we had polka in our collection?” She giggled softly.
“It happens to the best of us doesn’t it?” Staccato smiled in response.
“I suppose so.”
“You didn’t do bad.” She started.
“But let me show you how we really drop the bass.” The light brown unicorn raised an eyebrow curiously.
“I’ll be watching.” He heard the soft sound of curtains being pulled back again, as the voice disappeared on to the stage. Almost immediately after, the crowed roared loudly to the mere appearance of the new DJ.
“Wow, she must be popular.” Staccato snickered as he finally found the exit leading to the main part of the bar. He fumbled around clumsily with the knob, slipping and falling without his vision. As he finally opened the door, the bright strobe lights blasted through the doorway, stinging his retinas slightly. He shut his eyes tightly, as he slowly adjusted again to the bright light. When he opened his eyes he found the violet mare that had pushed him back onto the stage, right at his nose. He reeled back suddenly, startled by her alarmingly close proximity.
“Not bad up there, although I did find your polka selection a little.. odd..” She said cocking her head slightly as she dropped a small pouch of bits into his saddle bag.
“Come again, the crowd seems to like you, just be sure that you have some songs ready before hoof please.” Staccato nodded, a little embarrassed. She motioned towards the bartender, a cream earth pony with a pink and violet mane in a small suit like uniform. A small martini being poured into a wine glass serving as her cutie mark.
“Drinks are free for the DJ’s after their shifts, feel free to get a glass before you leave.” With this final statement she disappeared backstage again, no doubt waiting for another pony to attempt to leave again. Staccato trotted briskly towards the bar, immediately catching the attention of the bartender.
“What’ll you have?” Staccato took a moment to browse the numerous amounts of drinks that she had on hand. Looking towards the back shelf with hundreds of bottles lining the wall.
“Got any Stagner's Pear Cider?” She nodded and quickly retrieved a small glass and a large bottle from underneath the counter. He had never actually had a chance to taste this drink before, but a friend spoke highly of it to him, so he thought he would give it a shot. No pun intended.
Although he had absolutely no reason to trust said friend, after all, she did introduce him to Pan-Equestrian Gargle Blasters. Staccato shuddered heavily, remembering the memories of the drink with a disclaimer notice that was longer than the actual bottle itself. Although he did not really remember anything about the drink itself, just the painful, agonizing, aching, pulsating, arduous, grievous, excruciating, and other synonyms for painful, hangover that pursued the morning later. He swore after that day that he would never drink again in his life. But he was in college at the time, and you can guess how long that promise lasted.
She placed the glass delicately on the table, but still rang out noticeably with a rounded bang. He thanked the bartender and picked his glass up, enveloping it in the red aura of his magic. He sniffed curiously at the drink. Well, at least it smells good..
He shrugged and took a small sip, a wide grin forming on his face as he swallowed, smacking his lips at the taste. Not bad, not bad at all.
Staccato took a generous swig before turning towards the new DJ. The lights were situated in such a way that it was impossible to actually see the mare, only her silhouette was visible. She was a unicorn, with a long frizzy mane and tail. That was really the only thing Staccato could distinguish about her. Something about that DJ felt oddly familiar, but he couldn’t quite put a hoof on it. She stood upright, as all the DJ’s kind of had to do if they were to do their job correctly, spinning records with magic seemed to mess with the sound quality, so it was custom to use hooves for that. She had already placed her records on the turntable, but the drop had not yet arrived, so the crowd was only getting warmed up. She shouted out, her voice clearly audible over the calm intro.
“HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOO FILLIES AND GENTLECOLTS!” Suddenly Staccato’s eyes widened, his hooves shook, and his magic began to dissipate as the glass of cider quivered.
“Wait..” He began, still not sure if his assumption was correct of not.
“There’s only one mare I know that does intros like that...” Staccato squinted slightly, trying to focus closer on the figure, still trying to identify her.
From the edges of her silhouette, he could tell that her coat was white.
Check.
Her mane and tail was long, frizzy, cyan and electric blue.
Check.
He could barely make it out, but the cutie mark on her flank was what seemed like a backwards
eighth note.
Check.
Finally, lights from the front broke though, revealing the mare from the shadows. She wore a pair of large round glasses with thick black rims and violet lenses that shielded her eyes from view.
Double Check.
Staccato’s magic zapped and sparked, his grip on the glass disappeared and it fell to the ground shattering into a million pieces as it hit the floor. He was lost in complete shock and disbelief, utterly speechless and befuddled.
It was her.
“LET’S DROP THE BASS!” She shouted at the top of her lungs as the drop finally crashed through the speakers, causing the building to shake and quake violently. The ponies began to jump and dance, seemingly unaware of the earthquake-like vibrations. The shaking grew stronger and stronger, but the volume of the song did not seem to match the vibration. Sure it was loud but not loud enough to shake the ground beneath their hooves! Staccato seemed to be the only pony affected by the quaking as it grew more and more. He tumbled and stumbled all over the bar as he hastily made for the exit. Suddenly, one massive bump lurched him violently into the air.
The light brown unicorn came crashing down onto the seats of the carriage. The air was knocked out of his lungs as he landed flat on his back. The carriage was rocking back and fourth overwhelmingly, whipping Staccato around like a rag doll. He tried to stand, but was quickly knocked back down onto his rump with a grunt. He instead crawled to the nearest window, it was raining heavily on the glass, Celestia’s sun was long gone over the horizon and darkness fell over the land. A thick forest of trees zoomed past the cart as they sped by. Only visible by the bright lantern that hung over the side of the carriage, shaking and whipping around equally violently as the cart zoomed at speeds that would make Rainbow Dash surprised. Staccato instantly became extremely alarmed.
“Why are we driving so fast?” He turned to the window in front, attempting to stand and reach for it. Another bump denied him and slammed him against the floor, knocking the oxygen out of him again. The cart took a sharp turn. Staccato slammed against the left door. Suddenly, he felt the door swing open from underneath him, due to the lock being unhinged previously. Staccato flew out of the cart. The feeling of vertigo echoing through his body, weightless as he saw himself fly farther and farther from the carriage. He crashed hard on the ground beside the road, and began rolling down a hill. Rocks and trees slamming into him. He felt and heard a sickening crack and he shouted out in agony, a new pain burning in his left leg. He slammed into a tree head first. His eyes rolled into his skull as stars formed in his mind. His vision slowly began to fade, the darkness of the night enveloping his sight. He felt nothing.
“Sir? Are you alright?” Staccato found himself sprawled on the floor of the bar, his face uncomfortably close to a discarded cup of booze and...
He shook himself vigorously as he stood up, the bartender pony at his side, a concerned look on her face.
“What happened?” Staccato groaned.
“You fell, it looked like you were a little salt-licked..” The unicorn gave a baffled look.
“Salt-licked? I’m not drunk. I only drank half a glass o-” He looked at the ground where he previously stood, the remnants of his pear cider still shattered against the floor.
“Oh. Sorry about that.” The cream earth pony shrugged.
“I don’t have to clean it up, it’s fine.” She looked towards him again, worried.
“Maybe you were drugged, would you like me to call a carriage for you sir?” Staccato did not pay attention to the bartender, his focus was directed towards the DJ still at the stage. Ponies falling in a bar was not an uncommon sight, so the party continued on without paying any mind to Staccato. The quaking seemed to cease, not that anypony noticed except for him. The music blared loudly as it always did, the strobe lights still flashing quickly to the beat of the bass. The familiar unicorn he had saw before was no longer there, instead it was now a different host at the stage. He sported a spiky black mane, black shades, and a blue-gray coat. A black shirt with a tie covered his torso, and three white stars made for his cutie mark.
“Who is that?” Staccato uttered, a little unimpressed by his appearance.
“MC W1SH, a bit of a favorite here at the N30N lounge. I’ve never seen him come back here with the same mare twice though..” Staccato scoffed and made his way towards the exit. The bartender followed him briskly outside.
“Sir, would you like me to call you a carriage?” She repeated, Staccato shook his head.
“No I’m fine, I’ll just walk. Tell Sparks that I’ll be back Wednesday night.” He finished referring to the violet pony that served as his manager for that night. Staccato made his way down the streets of Manehattan, briskly trotting towards his apartment complex, his hooves making a soundly clicking noise as it hit against the concrete road.
He needed to make it home as soon as possible, he had a big test tomorrow, and had to make up for lost time. He probably would not sleep that night, spending the remainder of the morning studying. The Manehattan Musical College was quite the prestigious university, it took true skill to be accepted. Even those with a lot of money could not bribe their way into the school. The headmaster was very strict on only accepting those with true talent.
He had barely managed passing the acceptance course, only by promising and begging that he would work exponentially hard did he manage win over the headmaster. If he intended to keep his promise, he would have to study the night away.
He retrieved his keys from his saddle bag and slipped it through the lock. As he flipped a switch, the lights in the house brightened and the small apartment lit up. Staccato threw his saddle bag onto the couch and retrieved a couple of hefty text books from table in his living room. Straining as he tried to lift them with his magic.
The unicorn disappeared into his room, crashing the books onto his desk, opening one as he pulled his headphones over his ears again. Advanced Music Theory, Chapter Fourteen, it read in big black print. Staccato wasted no time in reading through it, he could understand it exceptionally, but was struggling at some points, finding himself reading over the same section over seven times trying to comprehend.
He turned the page to find a small folded sheet of paper shoved tightly in the spine. He cocked his head curiously, taking the folded cream colored paper in his neon red magic, unfolding it quickly. Several lines of words, each of them in two different hoof writings and ink colors, were stacked on top of one another. He could recognize the first on as his own, as he read through the note.
Hey, I saw you preform today, you were really good!
Hey thanks, glad that somepony else around here appreciates good music
Well, I was taught to like mostly classical like the rest of the ponies in here, but to see something new like your style is great! I love it!
Ha ha, thanks! Whats your name?
Call me Staccato.
Cool, my name is-The next line was smudged heavily and completely unreadable.
Nice to meet you!, I just was wondering.. if you’d like to hang out sometime?
Sure! When I preform here I have to follow rules and regulations and junk if I take you to a bar I can show you REAL music!
Cool! Looking forward to it!
Staccato read the note, over and over, his expression static and unchanging. After about an hour of re-reading the small piece of paper, he simply crumpled it up and threw it over his shoulder, landing just short of a waste basket. He closed his textbook, slipped his headphones off and crawled into bed, no longer in the mood to study. Or to do anything for that matter. Sleeping was just the only outlet he had at the moment.
He attempted to fall asleep, but somehow could not drift away. He shifted around in his small bed, trying fruitlessly to find a comfortable spot.
“Why can’t I fall asleep?” he said to himself, as if he would receive an answer. Surprisingly, he did, his stomach rumbled softly and Staccato remembered that he had skipped dinner today, only a half glass of pear cider in his stomach. Great.. He thought to himself as he realized that..
His stomach was empty, and his mind was full.
Somehow during the night, Staccato had managed to drift off to sleep. But much to his delight, he awoke early, staring straight at his alarm clock, a few minutes away from ringing.
He laid in bed, contemplating his life, trying to understand why he couldn’t stop thinking about.. her..
All his life, he tried to hard to wipe her clean from his memory, and to some point, it succeeded. But now, it began to resurface again. He did not know why, he did not understand why, he did not want it to, and he wanted it to stop. Why could he not just move on? He closed his eyes, defeated.
Suddenly his alarm shot off, a loud, droning, high pitched beeping noise that rang out repetitively and continuously. He stared at it blankly, not having the energy or the drive to give an annoyed expression, much less to turn it off. After a while, the alarm would shut off eventually and the radio would play. He was fine with that, it would be good to hear somepony else’s voice anyways.
Oddly enough, the radio did play, but the annoying beeping noise rang over the familiar voice of the radio talk show host.
“Gooooooood *beep* morning,*beep* Equestria! *beep* The sun is *beep* up and so are you! *beep*” The agitating sound echoed through Staccato’s head, a headache formed and twisted tightly around his temples. This was not unusual, it happened all the time.
As he reached for the clock to turn it off, suddenly a massive pang of agony blasted through his head, Staccato grunted, holding his hooves up to his head, squeezing it.
“What the hell?!” The pain continued, growing more and more destructive. Suddenly, his left leg cramped up, stinging hotly. The unicorn was forced to take his free hoof off of his profusely agonizing skull and used it instead to apply pressure to his now equally painful leg.
Where was this coming from? Why is it happening? Staccato was suffering, twisting and writhing in his bed, and the still continuous beeping coming from his clock was not helping his cause. Without warning, Staccato felt a sudden sharp stabbing pain in his right shoulder, his body convulsed abruptly.
Nurse Purple Heart pulled the now empty syringe from Staccato’s shoulder. The brown unicorn’s body soon went numb, the pain faded, and his eyes watered extensively. Tears blurred his vision as he opened his eyes, trying to regain consciousness. Bright florescent lights lined the ceiling, walls were painted a bright boring white. Staccato could feel a soft pillow underneath his head, and a comfortable mattress under his torso. He could now recognize the loud beeping noise as a heart rate monitor. A heavy cast was wrapped tightly around his leg, and bandages were spun around the top of his head. His skull was still sore, and his leg likewise, he groaned softly in pain.
“Oh, you’re awake.” Staccato turned his head slightly, his brain immediately feeling the effect and pounded out heavily in protest. He winced a bit, raising his broken arm to hold his head, then immediately regretting his decision, placing it back down. The violet unicorn chuckled slightly, gently taking a small cloth to wipe away the tears streaming from his watery eyes.
“From the looks of it, you’ve never had a broken leg before.” Staccato shook his head, then promptly decided that he would never move his head again after his headache screamed out in agony again.
“Wh.. where am I?” He managed to squeak.
“Mareami City Hospital.” She said simply, wiping away the last of Staccato’s tears. Staccato rose an eyebrow in confusion.
“Hospital? What happened to me?” Nurse Purple Heart smiled, it was a question that she was asked on a regular basis. As she somehow was able to catch every new patient just as they awoke for the first time.
“You fell out of your carriage during the storm, rolled down a hill, broke your right leg on a rock, and received a minor concussion after hitting your head against that tree.” Staccato narrowed his eyes, trying to recall exactly what happened, but that only served to further increase the throbbing in his head. He decided he would never think again either.
“Two mares found you on the bottom of the hill. Brought you back to this hospital as soon as they could.” Staccato did not pay much attention, just trying to suppress the feeling of his brain about to explode.
“They visited you yesterday.” He narrowed his eyes, now even more confused.
“Yesterday? How long have I been out?” Nurse Purple Heart glanced at the clock that now read 12:56.
“About seventy hours as of now.” The brown unicorn’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Seventy hours?! Like, three days?!” He shouted. Nurse Purple Heart simply nodded without a change in expression. Staccato put his right hoof up to his head, bewildered at the time that had passed.
“Three days..” He repeated shaking his head slightly.
“We messaged your assistant. Said you were on vacation for the next two weeks.” Staccato scoffed.
“Some vacation this is turning out to be...” he said sarcastically. The nurse floated a clipboard off the end of the bed, jotting down a few notes quickly before placing it back.
“Well with any luck you’ll be out of this hospital bed with a few more days of bed rest. Then you can enjoy the rest of your vacation walking around the rest of Mareami.” Staccato broke out into a hearty chuckle, to which Nurse Purple Heart turned questioningly.
“Walk around Mareami? Don’t you mean limp around Mareami?” He said, lifting his broken leg in the air, then wincing, immediately putting it down. The nurse gave a small smile before making her way out the door.
“Get some rest Staccato. If you want to get out there and start seeing the sights that is.” A soft click sounded as she closed the door, leaving Staccato to himself. He gave a soft sigh, then stared up at the ceiling, not quite sure on how to entertain himself while he was sitting there in a hospital bed.
His saddlebag was no where in sight, so his FiMPod must have been lost. His heart and soul, as he called it. The only thing that could give him the feeling of Gioia while he was on the go. He never left the house without it, and when it was gone, the world seemed eerily and uncomfortably quiet. The only thing that could supplement it’s absence was the slight repetitive tapping that Staccato made when he was remembering a beat. But remembering a song only wanted the unicorn to listen to it even more. He writhed and turned, trying to get comfortable in his small bed. But now his problem was, his mind was empty, and his stomach was full.