//------------------------------//
// Think that we got more time, when we're falling behind... 
// Story: The Electric Beats of a DJ's Heart 
// by The Princess Rarity 
//------------------------------//

She should be on the top of the charts. She should be famous. She should be a household name.  A CD of hers should be in every record store out there. Her music should be playing on all of the radio stations in Equestria. The Princesses  should be listening to her masterpieces.

DJ Pon-3. Vinyl Scratch.

Same mare. Two different aliases she's tried to use in making it to the top.

... It's never worked.

From wubs, to letting the Elements of Harmony sing on her remixes, fusing other genres with it, hell, she's even broke away from the dubstep. She's even sung the songs that she's wrote herself. Still, no dice. Two hit singles, for only a month. She'd never forget the day she first heard them on the radio.

"Equestria girls, we're kinda magical!" was the first. She became known, but she wasn't featured. Just her wubs. It was still something, though.

"Everypony's in the club tonight, we're gonna keep 'em having a good time..." was the second. It sold a few, and it went to number one on KCOLT; her old radio station, in which she sold to make ends meet. For that song, she actually got to lend both her voice and her wubs. Nothing ever happened after that number one. Nopony ever bought either song anymore. It was like all of it died. 

Ever since then, she's done what she can. She fused hip-hop with her dubstep. Country too. Even classical. Those songs didn't even hit the radio once. Or make it for a record deal.

She wrote songs and tried for singing, her real  talent.  The tunes were free of wubs completely, no auto-tune, she tried for a different approach. Anything to be on top. That music almost had a record deal, but they wanted Sapphire Shores to record the album instead. With no credit whatsoever.

... Vinyl Record Scratch was going to be a name everypony knew. No doubts and no exceptions.

0.0.0.0

She plays at a club, works at a diner and sings at the bar. She never sleeps; coffee and cider keep her awake for hours. She makes herself insane, just trying to find out what she's doing wrong. She notices what other famous ponies do, and she tries to copy. She never would before, but now, it seems that what everyone else likes is what she has to try and be. Just so she can be the one on top.

"Get the hell off the stage!"

"You suck!"

"Go back to spinning records, you freak!"

She ignores it, and follows the command of the first yell. She trots off the stage; tears forming behind her outrageous sunglasses. Normally, she would yell right back, with an insult far worse, but it was no use. The crowd had heard them all, and she was tired of fighting. She just wanted to live her dream; what was so wrong with that?

"Where's my beer, Scratch?"

"Buck off." she hissed. "I'm not a waitress."

"You might as well be." the stallion shot back. "What else are ya good for?"

If this was any other day, she'd walk right past anypony who said that to her. Or maybe fight back with words. But instead, enough was enough. One of her forehooves came in contact with his face and he fell to the ground.

"Barfight!" Somepony yelled, and a glass mug was thrown across the bar.

"Go back to your corner, man!" Another yelled.

"Neverrrr!" The stallion who threw the glass mug ran up on stage and began horribly singing the Crystal Kingdom anthem and, apparently, he actually got some appalause.

"You're all gonna regret the day you hated me! Vinyl bucking Scratch is gonna be famous one day!" she shrieked. "Just you wait!"

"Stop lying to yourself, kid. Dreams are for rookies." the stallion she had punched said weakly, with a frown. "I was just like you, and I know it ain't ever going to get any better."

"I said, buck off." she spat, walking past him and out of the bar, into the chill of the winter evening. Pristine white snow was falling, but it refused to stick on the ground, making the choice to melt the second it came in contact with anything. The world around her didn't have the heart-warming perfect scene that usually happened this time of year, with everything looking as if it was a painting that Ponet himself crafted. It was the exact opposite.

The slush of rain and snow littered along the cold sidewalk, a bone-chilling wind whipped throughout the town, wet snow pierced her fur that matched the color of the precipitation and a thin sheet of ice covered almost every single thing that could have eyes laid upon it.

And as she walked along the frozen slush, careful to mind her step, her sunglasses-covered gaze couldn't resist as she peered into each and every building she walked past.

First, there was a fancy restaurant. No mystery there. This was bucking Canterlot. There were fancy places everywhere. Inside, ponies chattered to one another, enjoyed their high-class meals that cost more than a train ticket, and some were even dressed in fine apparel. It wasn't hard to figure out that they had accomplished their dreams... or they were born into money. Either or.

Second, there was a small candy store called Sugar Sweet. A very popular place. The story of the mare who ran it was a nice one. Flat broke, and in only months, rich. Ponies came from almost everywhere just to try the treats and confections.

Third, there was a tiny music hall.

'Remember this, Vinyl?' she told herself. It killed her everytime she passed the place. When she was little, she'd do anything possible just to spend only a moment at the building. There was every musical instrument known to ponykind there, and every second you spent in the hall was never silent. There was always music. It was Heaven. But over the years, her Heaven had changed.

Young fillies and colts didn't really flood the place like they used to, it was mainly grown mares and stallions. They didn't act bubbly, like the foals. They barely swapped conversation. They just sat there. Playing their instruments. And the music that they played... it was heard from outside; it was just so boring. Dull tunes with no beat whatsoever.

She wanted to go back in there, bust through the doors and crank up her beats, but it wasn't worth it. Was anything ever worth it nowadays?

Instead, she just stopped and stood in the semi-frozen slush; looking through the window, inspecting each and everypony in the old place that was like a second home to her. How she wished that she could go back in time, be a filly once more and sit at the turntable in the back of the place, spinning songs for so long, that she'd often fall asleep on the records. The place never closed. There would always be somepony wanting to play something. Just to drown out the sorrow.

"I miss you." she whispered, as if the building was an old friend. And in a way, it kind of was. When she was younger, she would visit the place, monthly. She'd beg her parents to let her ride the train all the way from her home in Manehatten, and lay down some beats in Canterlot. That once a month were always her favorite days. She'd play the tunes for such a long time, and she could remember whenever it was time to leave. She'd cry so hard and beg to stay longer, but the pleading never worked. Once a month, for one day and then it was back to the busy city rush.

Now, the memories of the place always made her frown. The hall had taught her the meaning of life, which was music.

Music is life. It tells stories and teaches lessons. Two of the most important things you could ever come across. What could ever be better?

She let out a deep sigh and kept walking. Another second standing still, she'd be a popsicle. Another second outside the hall, she'd break down in tears. Too many memories, and that joy of the past would only cause too much hurting in her heart. She already had enough.

Time to go home. To write more songs. Smash together more wubs. Record new tunes. Call up that dressmaker to sing on the new remix. Never stop. If she did, she'd never succeed. And ever since she had found out her very special talent, the only thing on her mind was success. To be the pony everypony knew.

Vinyl Scratch would be a name that would go down in history.

0.0.0.0

Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Regret. Her dreams were full of it, because, for the first time in weeks, she went to sleep. She should've had her regular cup of coffee spiked with cider at the bar. She forgot to. And now, the Dream Land wanted to hurt her more. Tell her that she should've never changed.

The visions in her sleep... they practically killed her. They took her heart and mind; forcing it into an euphoria of paranoia mixed with hurt. She could never pull away from these dreams once they started. She'd be screaming and crying, wanting to escape, but never able to...

Everypony she used to hold close was in her dreams. They always said the same things. The things she couldn't forget, no matter how hard she tried.

Her mother. "Vhat is wrong with you, dearie? You have your head in zee clouds; zee business of musicks is impossible. You may have zee talents, but keep it small." At least her mom would put aside her career for once. Tell her the truth, despite how much it hurt. But otherwise... nothing. Nothing at all. That statement was the most memorable thing. It was said right before everything changed.

"I just want to make it. I, the one and only, Vinyl Scratch, I'm going to be the biggest name in music!" She was a fool to believe that. Right before she left her home, in Manehatten, she said that and that was it. 

Her father. "Darling, you're talented, but you won't make it. Why not stay home? Pursue in your destiny." That bucking idiot would rather read a Luna-damned fashion magazine than be with his daughter. All he ever wanted was his child to be in the business that involved high-class couture. What fun was in that? Didn't he even know what his foal's cutie mark represented?

"Buck you. Shove those fashion articles of yours up your ass." That was the last thing she ever said to him. She's never regretted that. But she regrets never at least trying to be the daughter her dad wanted.

And most importantly... her best friend.

Aside from that music hall, she had one pony who understood her.

"Vinyl, I have every faith in you. I'll buy your first CD, I promise. I'll be your biggest fan. We'll live in Canterlot together after we both make it, won't we? Just like how we said when we were little. And it's such a miracle that it's finally coming true."

Those words had broke her heart when she heard them, but what she said back was worse. It killed her. A realization that hit her a long time ago was... she lied to her best friend.

"Octavia, I'm not famous yet. And remember, I said I don't want my songs on those shitty CD's. I want them on records. And Canterlot can be our vacation homes. We can get places in Los Pegasus. You know how I hate snooty ponies... except you."

She should've known that she wouldn't make it. They say, 'If you can make it in Manehatten, you can make it anywhere!' and nopony bothered to listen to anything over there. Maybe it was because of their high-class or something, but even the record companies didn't even want to listen. They threw her remixes in the trash. Right in front of her. Not even a lie of 'We will call you after the boss hears it.' was she given. Just pure heartache and humiliation. Never anything good came to her in her time of struggling. She was so busy and occupied in making it in the business of music, she forgot about her best friend. She forgot about her home. Who she was, and who she became.

... Another thing that killed her.

0.0.0.0

Play. Work. Sing. Repeat. Another never-ending day and night of the same things. It doesn't even feel like it all changes, the time. It's like it's all one big minute, or something of the sort, and it just drags on forever. Events happen, but nothing exciting. The highlight of her day is if somepony actually cheers for her after a performance or if she gets a tip while working, maybe even she gets soaked with cider, because that's how much they hated her singing.

It seems that everyday the snow gets colder, and that this bitter winter in Canterlot will never end. She'll be stuck here forever, with these high-class snobs, never moving on. She wants to leave this place, but how can she? She has no money, just enough to pay the bills. Her savings are at her apartment, in a glass jar underneath her bed, and she's counted how much that is. Only thirty bits in savings. It costs at least fifty for a train ticket to the next town, which is Baltimare. She hates her life. She wishes, a lot of things.

To go back in time.

To have never moved here, stupid Canterlot, in the first place.

To still be at home.

To be little again.

To maybe be more talented?

... To have never been talented in music.

Maybe if she never even enjoyed music the way she did, she wouldn't be like this. So depressed, so bitter, so... isolated. Every second of her life, it felt as if she had accomplished nothing, because of the place she was and the things they did. They left her alone, in a small flat, with little money, a shitty job and striving to become the next big thing.

But if she didn't like music the way she did today, then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be stuck in this hell that they call 'getting by with life' because then...

Then everything would be alright, maybe.

0.0.0.0

Everyday she wants to go back to Manehatten. Live in that big mansion she grew up in, mooch off of her filthy stinkin' rich parents and hang out with her best friend. Just start all over. Maybe forget about the music business for a while. Have the life that her destiny had planned...

Perhaps that was it. She had said, 'Buck you, destiny.' and left. It was a very well possibility that her fate was what she hated.

As a filly, she wanted to stay in Manehatten, dress up and play her music.

In the middle between of being a filly and a mare, she wanted to stay in Manehatten and become famous.

Now, as a mare, all she wants is fame.

She wants ponies to look back on their life in about a decade or so and say, "Yeah, I grew up with the kicking beats of Vinyl Scratch."; is that really too much to ask? Just to make it? To have her face seen somewhere? Her name popular in least one little town? Just one? She'd be happy with that. It'd be something!

She has nothing now.

And just like how she forgot about the ponies she held close, it seems as if they forgot about her.

Only a few months after her arrival in Canterlot, her parents (well, more or less, her mother) stopped sending money to help. Her best friend stopped writing letters. That one stallion she met, the one she sang with on her second single, he knew her for only a few weeks and then accused her of being crazy.

... She feels like, everyday, that she's lost everything she's ever had. Because of being so obsessed with the stars in her eyes.

0.0.0.0

Is this what it was all about? Losing every Luna-damned thing she owned? And never having it? Living in a bucking park, sleeping on a bench? She didn't ask for this! Losing her job was one thing, but being spread around as a laughing-stock as well? No bar or club would hire her to sing, and all of the jobs in town were taken, even the worse ones out there. All she ever wished for and wanted was her dream. She briefly had it. Why didn't anypony want her music? She had done everything possible to get noticed, what else was there? Did her destiny want payback? Was she supposed to stand in the middle of the road with her turntable? Was that it? She had gotten arrested for her love of music before, and right now, nothing was worth it! Nothing at all!

And every day, she'd sit on that bench, watch fancy ponies walk by with their noses in the air; they had everything. She didn't. Every night, she'd lie down on that bench and cry. It was a miracle that the guards had never forced her off, or threatened to arrest her. 

... She wanted to talk to her destiny. Maybe it was right after all. Maybe she shouldn't have ever left Manehatten. She could've stayed in the big mansion, with all the money and riches, with her best friend. They could've postponed becoming famous. Her best friend might've been poor but it wasn't any matter. They could live together in her home.

"Is this what you bucking want?" she wailed in the silence of the night. "You wanted me to be here? With nothing?" 

... No answer. She didn't expect one. But she deserved one. She had to know why she was here. Was it going to all turn out right in the end? If so, how? How could anything get better than this? It was all pure hell. Every night a cold one, lying on a metal bench, with nopony to tell her it would be ok. Everything would become just fine. She had to wait. Was that it? Was all of that fairytale junk going to happen? Like you heard in the biographies of celebrities? They were sleeping in a ditch and weeks later, they were famous? Everypony knew that was all garbage.

"Miss, I can't allow you to stay on this bench any longer. You're loitering."

Oh, just great.

"Arrest me." she muttered. "I have nothing anyway."

She heard the padding of hooves against the grass, getting fainted within every second. The guard had given up. Guess he didn't really care that much.

"Good riddance." she said, almost silently, to herself. "Should've known better than to mess with me, Vinyl Scratch. I'll mess you up." She could only wish upon Luna's diamonds of the night for that. She had nothing now. No home, no money, no job, no family, no friends, no music... no anything. She even lost her dignity. The second she began sleeping on this stupid bench, it was gone.

"I'll go home." she whispered. "I'll try there." Sobs began to escape her once more. "I'll do anything..."


~fin~