//------------------------------// // The Nightclub // Story: Syncopation // by Terrasora //------------------------------// “I still can’t believe you’re wearing that.” “My bowtie is essentially a part of me, Vinyl. It sets me apart.” Vinyl snorted. “Yeah, especially because it’s a bowtie. Nopony in all of Equestria wears bowties except for you. I’m pretty sure that nopony in all of Equestria would wear a bowtie except for you.” “Harpo wears a bowtie.” “So?” “Well, I just contradicted your statement.” The DJ shook her head. “Sorry Tavi. Harpo’s lame. Ipso Facto, he can’t be used as an example.” Octavia sighed. “Your logic, as per usual, is flawless.” Vinyl laughed slightly, purposefully bumping into the cellist. “Yup. You should take a lesson from this, Octy. Never argue with me; it doesn’t work out.” The two mares turned a corner and were greeted by the sight of a teeming line of ponies. Most of them were young, looking barely old enough to be allowed entrance to a nightclub. A few others were obviously too young. They glanced from side to side, daring somepony to challenge their age. Octavia stopped at the very end of the seemingly endless line. Vinyl walked on for a few more steps, skidding to a stop when she noticed that she was walking alone. The DJ arched an eyebrow. “Tavi, what are you doing?” “Waiting patiently. I’m not entirely sure why I took you up on your offer; it will take the rest of the evening to get anywhere near… where we’re going.” Octavia couldn’t bring herself to admit that she was going to a ‘club.’ Vinyl smirked, trotting over to the grey mare and throwing a hoof over her back. “Tavi, baby—“ “Don’t call me that.” “Tavi, baby,” repeated Vinyl with a widening smirk, “you’re with DJ-PON3. Even better, you’re with DJ-PON3 at a club. A club that I’m playing at! Tavi, baby—“ “I’d still rather prefer that you didn’t call me that.” “We’re practically royalty!” Vinyl nudged Octavia out of the line. “C’mon, no waiting for us!” The unicorn trotted ahead, the cellist following at a more self-concious pace. Octavia could swear that the ponies waiting in line were trying to kill her with glares. She nervously adjusted her bowtie. This isn’t what I expected, thought the cellist. It’s too cliché, like something I’d see in one of those gritty movies Harpo enjoys watching. Sunglasses and leather, slicked back manes and mares wearing far too much make up. The only thing missing is the overly muscular bouncer standing by the doorway in a too tight black suit. Vinyl’s voice forced Octavia out of her thoughts. “Don’t worry about her, she’s with me.” The cellist turned, finding herself face to face with quite possibly the largest pony she had ever seen. The bouncer was snow white, his mane cut short in a kind of blonde buzz cut. He was also positively ripping with muscle. As in, he waddled instead of walked and would probably never be able to scratch an itch on his back kind of muscled. It was rather terrifying. The entire effect was slightly diminished when Octavia noticed that the bouncer’s wings were practically nonexistent. The pegasus snorted and Octavia could have sworn that she saw steam come from his nostrils. Vinyl tapped the monster of a pony on the shoulder. “Hey, so are you gonna let us through or what?” The bouncer looked Octavia over one more time. He frowned slightly. The cellist offered a sheepish smile. The pegasus reared onto his hind hooves and brought his forehooves closer to his body. His eyes seemed to bulge slightly as he opened his mouth and shouted, “YEAH!” Octavia nearly had a heart attack. The bouncer noticed this, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he coughed into his hoof. “I mean, yeah, go right ahead.” He unhooked a velvet rope and pushed the door open for the two mares. The cellist was looking particularly frazzled, her eyes glancing nervously from side to side as she fiddled with her bowtie. The bouncer frowned sadly as Octavia passed. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “I get carried away.” The grey mare’s eyes widened slightly. She had not been expecting an apology; Octavia wasn’t even completely sure how to respond. Vinyl stepped up, patting the bouncer softly. “It’s alright. She’s a bit uptight anyway; the scare probably loosened her up a little.” The mountainous pony smiled warmly and cast another worried glance at Octavia. The cellist smiled in return. “See?” said the DJ. “No harm done. C’mon Tavi.” She led the way into the club. “Oh, and keep up the good work Snowflake!” “YEAH!” came the hearty acknowledgement. The door closed and the mares found themselves in a short hallway. Another set of double doors stood a few steps away. “You ready for your first club Tavi?” asked Vinyl excitedly. “Dude, it’s gonna be so awesome! I mean, it’ll be really loud and crowded and stuff, but it’s so fun if you can get past all of that!” A note of worry crept into her voice. “But if you ever want to leave, just say so, okay? I might not be your scene… It’d be really cool if you had fun, but you might not.” There was a slight pause. The DJ shook her head, trying to dislodge her doubts. “But no worries! Um, unless you want to ask me anything before we actually go in?” “His name is Snowflake?” she asked. “What?” “Snowflake. That muscle-bound mountain of a pony who could send somepony into cardiac arrest with a glance is named… Snowflake.”  Octavia simply couldn’t wrap her head around it. “YEAH!” shouted Vinyl. The cellist squealed and jumped slightly. She recovered quickly, however, and threw a glare at the DJ. The DJ in question grinned. “I mean, yeah. Well, actually no. Snowflake’s not his real name but we all call him that. Anyway, he’s a real softie once you get to know him so Snowflake fits just as well.” “But what’s his actual name?” Vinyl took a moment to think, her mind flashing through all of the various ponies she had met in her relatively brief life. She shrugged. “I dunno. It never really came up.” “You don’t know his name?!” “Yes!” said Vinyl proudly. “His name is Snowflake! That’s the nickname I gave him, so what other name matters?” She nudged Octavia playfully. “Isn’t that right Octy slash Tavi?” The cellist sighed. “Why did I agree to this?” “Because you love~ me,” purred the DJ as she trotted to the next set of doors. Vinyl didn’t notice the deep red creep into Octavia’s face. A shame, as the unicorn would have found it absolutely adorable. As it was, Vinyl was more considered with throwing open the doors in as dramatic a manner as possible. She had been planning this moment ever since she had first asked Octavia to the nightclub. The DJ wanted it to be special. “Welcome,” said Vinyl as she glanced back to Octavia, “to my world.” She flung the doors open. There was a flood of music and light. The doors seemed to lead to an entirely different universe, one where dancing ponies were little more than a teeming shadow under multi-colored flashing lights. The music resounded across the room, blared from multiple speakers. It was a force, almost tangible as it forced the dancers to move and twist. Octavia flattened her ears, believing for a moment that the throbbing music had burst her eardrums. Vinyl grinned widely. Anypony who could see past her shades would have ran screaming at the manic glee in her scarlet eyes. She grabbed Octavia by the hoof. “Let’s go!” the DJ shouted over the noise. “C’mon Tavi, follow the queen into her land!” The unicorn led the way, skirting the dance floor as she walked towards an open table. Octavia winced with each step, partly from the construction noise that seemed to pass for music and partly from the sight of ponies grinding and gyrating against each other. The cellist felt like a disapproving old mare by the time she sat down. Vinyl placed a hoof on Octavia’s shoulder and shouted something. Is it just me, wondered the grey mare, or is Vinyl being far more… physical today? The DJ shouted again, but her words were quickly snatched away by what sounded like a power drill. Octavia pointed a hoof at her ears and then gestured towards the club’s many speakers. Vinyl facehoofed, and a small pearl-white aura surrounded her horn. The cellist felt a slight tickle in her ear before, with a slight pop, the music faded to a more tolerable volume. “Better?” asked the DJ. Octavia nodded, kneading her ears with a hoof in an attempt to stop their ringing. Vinyl turned slightly pink. C’mon PON-3, this is your domain. Take a chance. What’s that thing that Doc says? Allons-y? Well, allons-y Vinyl! “Hey,” Vinyl’s voice cracked. Buck. The cellist looked up, still trying to get the sound out of her ears. Welp, thought Vinyl, no use in chickening out now. She slid into the seat next to Octavia. “Here, let me help you.” The DJ leaned in slightly, feeling her heart pound in her throat. She blew lightly into the cellist’s ear. Octavia felt all of her blood rush into her head. Wha—She—Ear. I… I can’t brain. The cellist felt her eyes close of their own accord. She didn’t even notice when Vinyl had drawn back. A few moments passed in silence. “Um… Octy?” asked Vinyl hesitantly. “Mmmm?” came Octavia’s semi-intelligible response. “You’re not gonna kill me now, are you? I’m supposed to play this set and they aren’t gonna pay me until I actually play so… dying would be bad.” “Mmmm,” replied Octavia, as she allowed her head to come into contact with the table. Cold… Cold feels good. Vinyl grinned savagely. Hehehe, I think I found a weak spot. She leaned in again, bringing her mouth as close as she could to the cellist’s ear. “Hey, Octy,” she breathed. Octavia jumped again, her head making full contact with Vinyl. The DJ was sent reeling, clutching at her muzzle as she bit back a stream of highly creative curses. The cellist felt herself hit something. Hard. Octavia turned around in time to see Vinyl fall from her seat. A moment of heart-stopping worry coursed through Octavia. The DJ looked up, a hoof pressed against her muzzle. “You… you headbutted me. I think I’m bleeding.” She brought her hoof out and looked at it, expecting to see some drops of blood. There wasn’t even a speck. So she tried again, touching her muzzle and holding her hoof out. And again. And again. “Okay, so I’m not bleeding,” said Vinyl. “But you still have to make up for striking me.” Octavia had gotten over her earlier worry. “You deserved it! In fact, I think you deserve worse!” Vinyl smiled sweetly. “I think you should kiss it and make it better.” “No.” “Just a peck? C’mon Tavi! Your hard head could have killed me and you won’t even give me a little kiss?” The cellist scowled, trying to hide the blush that was creeping over her face. “No Vinyl. Not after you blew into my ear like that.” “But you liked it!” protested the DJ. “No, Vinyl!” The unicorn grinned slyly and drew closer. Octavia tried to back away but found her path blocked by a wall. “W—what are you doing?” stammered the cellist. “Oh nothing. I’m just wondering how long I could blow into your ear before I got you to kiss my wound.” Vinyl batted her eyes. The overall effect was diminished by her glasses. “You wouldn’t dare,” replied Octavia. The DJ leaned toward the cellist’s ear, thoughts of evil dancing in her head. She took one deep breath. Which Vinyl promptly lost as Octavia kissed her directly on her sore muzzle. The cellist was blushing fiercely. She seemed to have spent most of the day in that sort of state. “Happy?” she asked in a soft voice. Vinyl held up a hoof. She closed her eyes, trying to make sense of her thoughts. “Vinyl? Are you okay?” “I… just… time. Give me a little…” The DJ’s voice trailed off. Octavia frowned, worrying over the idea that she had misread Vinyl. She might have been joking; one can never tell with this mare! Oh, dear Luna; I just made a foal of myself didn’t I? The grey mare was quite prepared to melt into the floor. Vinyl felt the last bit of her mind reboot. “Happy? You want to know if I’m happy?” She grinned wildly. “Tavi, you have no idea.” She took off her glasses and met Octavia’s gaze directly; her grin never faltering in the slightest. After a time, the cellist smiled back. “Listen, Octy,” continued the DJ. “This is really nice, like really really nice. Like I’m trying really hard to make sure that my words form into word… chains…” “Sentences?” offered Octavia. “Sentences! Sentences that make sense. I mean, it’s been a lot of fun, but I was wondering if you’d—“ “There you are!” said a bright, Canterlotian voice. The Doctor trotted over to their table. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Vinyl. Hello Octavia.” Octavia nodded her greeting. The DJ silently fumed. “Vinyl,” continued the Doctor, “your turn starts in about three minutes so you should start walking up to the turntables. I thought you should know that.” Vinyl let out a huff. “You and your Celestia-damned timing, Doc.” She stormed off towards the dance floor, keen on finishing her set as quickly as possible. The Doctor turned to Octavia. “What happened? Did I do something wrong? I feel like I’ve done something wrong. It’s not a good feeling.” “I’m sure you’re fine Doctor.” “Well of course I’m fine! I’m always fine, even when somepony like Vinyl, well not like Vinyl as it’s Vinyl that I’m talking about, throws me a glare more terror inducing than the Vashta Nerada!” “Vashta… Nerada?” asked Octavia. “I’ll tell you later. Maybe,” he added under his breath. “No, the more pressing issue is why our loveable goof of a DJ is angry it me. Octavia, what happened right before I got to this table?” The cellist sputtered for some time. Do I lie? No, that would be a horrid course of action! Besides, I’m not entirely sure that it’s possible to lie to him. “Ooooooh,” said the Doctor in sudden realization. “You kissed her, didn’t you? Yes, all of the signs are there. Look, you’re reddening as I speak!” Octavia felt herself sink lower and lower into her seat. “Well, it’s about time! Though it’s a bit of a shame that I can’t repay my debt.” The Doctor shrugged. “But what can you do?” The cellist looked through her haze of embarrassment. “A debt, Doctor?” “Oh, yes! Has she not told you yet? I figure that you, of all ponies, would have asked Vinyl how she came to her present state in life before you kissed her!” The stallion tutted jokingly. “Naughty, naughty, Octavia Philharmonica.” Octavia sharply hit the table. “Doctor, I’d appreciate if you’d stop broaching this subject.” There was an unusual degree of steel in her voice. The Doctor held up his hooves. “Right. Crossed the line. I’m sorry.” “It’s fine. Just please, don’t pressure me over something as trivial as my love life.” The Doctor put a hoof to his forehead in a kind of salute. “Understood.” The two sat in silence, the Doctor quite content within his own mind and Octavia rather preoccupied with the sight of a certain DJ. Vinyl Scratch skirted around the dance floor, reaching the turntables just as the previous DJ, a green colt, finished up his song. The two seemed to speak for a very short time, perhaps just enough for Vinyl to offer a congratulations and a hoof bump, before they separated. Octavia watched as Vinyl took her place at the top of a slightly raised platform, her form largely obscured by the turntables. DJ-PON3 was wearing the widest grin Octavia had ever seen. “Have you ever heard her play?” asked the Doctor. The cellist shook her head. “Do you think that I frequent these locations?” The stallion laughed. “Fair point. I’ve never been good at small talk. Anyway, you’re in for a treat. Well, as soon as Vinyl lowers her soundproofing spell.” “How did you know about that?” The Doctor laughed again and winked. “I think I’ll get a drink; they’re complimentary to anypony who works here. Including technicians for rambunctious DJs. Care for anything?” “No, but thank you for the—“ “WASSUP, EVERYPONY?!” Vinyl’s voice came crashing over the entire club. Octavia jerked backwards, slamming her head into the wall. The Doctor laughed and took out a pair of earplugs. “You’re lucky Vinyl hasn’t lowered her spell,” said the stallion as he extended the small bits of plastic. His voice was nearly drowned out by the club’s roar of approval. “ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD TIME?!” shouted Vinyl. Another roar. Octavia hastily shoved the earplugs into place. The Doctor trotted off to the bar. The DJ levitated a record into place. A dull throb filled every bit of the nightclub. It seemed to push out every other sound. For the first time in a long time, everything in that club was silent. “Well,” said Vinyl in a hushed tone. “It’s about to get a hell of a lot better.” The music picked up slightly, layer upon layer of sound building over the bass. The DJ’s voice rose with the music. “Because who’s behind the turntables today?” A few devout club hoppers whispered, “DJ-PON3.” “Who’s behind the table today?!” insisted Vinyl. Another response, this time louder and joined by more voices, “DJ-PON3.” “WHO’S BEHIND THE TABLE TODAY?!” Vinyl’s music hit its highest point as she asked her question. The music cut off suddenly, replaced by a robotic voice. “DJ-PON3,” said the voice just as the crowd shouted the same name. The DJ held up her hooves as the ponies on the dance floor cheered stomped the ground for her. Then she brought her hoof down on the turntables. “DROP IT!” she shouted. Her music came into full swing, a steady bass overlaid by a teeming mass of notes that somehow meshed together. The crowd had completely lost themselves, jumping like maniacs and waving their hooves in the air. They danced without reservation, not caring about whether the other ponies judged them or whatever image they had tried to maintain by going out to a nightclub. A few ponies, in the heat of the moment, kissed in the middle of the dance floor. Others were flailing wildly and accidentally punched a few ponies. And presiding over it all with a wide grin as she manipulated knobs and slides and deftly switched out records, was DJ-PON3 herself. Octavia marveled at Vinyl. Of course, the unicorn’s music was terrible; it grated on Octavia’s ears and literally rattled her teeth. She could only bare it because of her earplugs and the fact that Vinyl herself was playing the ‘music.’ From a technical point of view, however, it was incredible. The cellist understood that composing that genre of music must require as much skill as composing for a complete orchestra. Still, thought Octavia, it sounds positively horrid. She never did notice her back hoof tap along to the bass. The Doctor settled back into his seat, now armed with a glass of water. “Amazing, isn’t she?” Octavia nodded, unable to take her eyes off of the bundle of energy that was the DJ. “Like nothing I’ve seen before,” she replied wistfully.   *** Vinyl plopped down into an empty seat. She was flushed and sweating, but grinning from ear to ear. “So, what did you think, Tavi? Have you fallen in love after seeing my awesome DJ-ness?” Octavia smiled wryly. “Oh, indeed. I’m practically yours, Vinyl.” The DJ waggled her eyebrows, feeling especially daring after her highly successful set. She could still hear the crowd chanting her name. “Well, then you won't say no to going on an actual date with me sometime this week, right?” The cellist felt her heart beat faster. She tried to go over the implications of an actual date. Well, it’s pretty obvious that she’s attracted to me and I feel the same way for her, but is this proper? I mean, there are so many things that can go— The Doctor gently kicked Octavia. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to Vinyl. The unicorn’s grin had been slowly diminishing as Octavia hesitated, though Vinyl did her best to maintain her bright attitude. “Well,” said Vinyl, “you shouldn’t feel pressured or anything. You only have to come if you really want to. Personally, I really wish that you want to. I think it would be awesome, but if you don’t then…” She shrugged, trying to fake nonchalance but a note of worry and future sadness tinged her voice. “Well, what can you do about it?” Octavia steeled herself, unsure of how Vinyl would react. It’s probably best to get it over with now and deal with the consequences later. “Vinyl… I’d love to.” The DJ’s mouth hung open. The Doctor reached over and shut it for her. And then Vinyl’s grin returned, brighter and wider than ever. “That’s awesome,” she whispered. “That’s so awesome. This is So. Freaking. Awesome!” She got to her hooves and trotted in place. “Ohmigosh, Tavi I’m so glad that you said yes. This is gonna be so much fun! I swear, Octy, it’ll be one of the coolest days ever.” She stammered slightly. “Not that I want to get your hopes up or anything, cuz it might be really bad! Not that it’ll be really bad! I’m just saying that it’s a possibility that—“ “Vinyl?” “Yes Tavi?” “Shut up.” “Yes Tavi.” There was a loud pop right behind their table. All three ponies turned around and found Harpo sitting in the table next to theirs, holding a freshly uncorked bottle of champagne. “Well, it’s about time one of you said something! I thought that I was going to drink this by myself.” He gave the label a cursory glance. “Not that I’d mind doing that. My liver would, but I wouldn’t.” “Harpo,” said Octavia. “How long have you been sitting there?” “Too long, my dear cellist. I really have to pee.” The composer put down the bottle and four flute glasses. “Also, I put this on your tab Vinyl. Hope you don’t mind.” Vinyl laughed. “Harpbutt, you’re an asshole.” Harpo winked. “The mares love it. Now, I really do have to pee.” And with those graceful words, Harpo trotted off to the little colt’s room. The DJ levitated the bottle, filling each glass with the bubbling alcohol. She threw back her glass in a single gulp before turning towards Octavia with a cheeky grin. “So, Tavi, how about a dance to celebrate our date?” The cellist sipped her own champagne. “You’re kidding, right?” “Drink up,” replied Vinyl, “the night is young. You already decided to go on a date with me; you can’t possibly make a worse decision tonight!”