//------------------------------// // In the Club // Story: Fashion Crush // by PunyPony //------------------------------// Vincenza “Vinyl” Scratch, aka DJ PON-3, was about to get on stage, and this time she was the main event. No more opening gigs and small clubs, she thought. Then panic struck : what if I’m not up to it? what if I mess things up? “Stop thinking about that, Vinyl!” muttered Vinyl, trying to calm herself. “Deep breaths, deeeeeep breaths!” After a moment of breathing, Vinyl’s heart rate was still the same and she was getting dizzy from anguish. “Vaffanculo a Rarity e a le sue cazzate di yoga! Non funciona!” [Fuck Rarity and her yoga shenanigans! It’s not working!] Vinyl let out a loud surprised yelp as she felt her cellphone vibrate. she took it out to check who was calling her. What does Patty want? Now’s not the time! “What is it Patty?” She said in an angry tone “I don’t have time right now!” “You don’t have to shout at me! It’s not like I ate your whole share of pizza last week!” replied Patty before guiltily adding “though I might have eaten some.” “You what? Er, nevermind ! What are you calling me for exactly?” “Could you tell the bouncer that we’re your special guests and let us in? pretty please with sugar on top.” Pleaded Patty. “You could have bought the entries.” “You would have your friend pay to see you? That’s not how friendship works!” “Friends don’t steal friend’s pizza! Besides, you can bribe the bouncer, like you always do.” “Touché! I guess that’s it then. Break a leg!” “Ciao!” Vinyl ended the call and shook her head, once again calm and ready to go on stage. I really need to give Patty a big thankyou cake one of these days. Thought Vinyl, marveling at Patty’s effect on stress. ~~~~~~ Patty was pacing next to the bouncer. She could get in the club if she wanted but then Rarity would be stuck outside with no means to bribe the bouncer. After all, bribing a bouncer like BigMac isn’t as easy as it seems. His speech makes him look slow in the head but you couldn’t be more wrong (he did manage a farm before moving in the city). Bribing a honest man like BigMac requires to know his weaknesses and Patty knew a lot of things about a lot of people. If only Rarity was already here. Thought Patty, checking if the bribes were still in her pocket. “Lady, if you don’t get in, you have to move.” Called a big muscled black bouncer. “It’s not like i’m doing anything wrong.” Replied Patty. “It’s bad for the club’s image if people are seen loitering outside.” “Are you implying something, Willy?” “Don’t call me that! Bouncers have nicknames for a reason. Call me Iron!” “You don’t have to be so loud! It’s bad for the image, right?” Before Will, aka Iron the bouncer (or Willy), could retort. Another bouncer, not as big but just as strong as Will, tapped his shoulder. “Switch” Said BigMac, a deep frown on his usually gentle face. “But she...” Will shut his mouth at the sight of BigMac’s deepening frown. “Oh, okay then.” Once Will had gone to stand by the club’s door Patty turned her attention to BigMac’s unusual sour mood. “Why the frown?” she asked. “You made a scene before the club.” he replied. “That can’t be it! I refuse to believe that I’m the cause of someone’s bad mood!” “It’s bad for the club’s reputation.” “There must be something else.” “Nope.” “It’s about your sister? Did you have a fight? She’s in town right?” “Yep. Wait. What? How did you..” “I knew something was amiss! So, tell me.” “Nope, it’s family business” “It’s not like you can keep me in the dark for long. You know it.” “Ugh. I guess” BigMac began to tell how his meeting with his sister had gone. ~~~~~~ It was quite the scene that tall blonde girl was making in front of the station. She was venting her frustration at her brother who cowered before her despite his hulking size. “Ah can’t believe ya can be late, brother!” Jacqueline Smith scolded. “Ah waited for two years ‘fore Ah could get the chance to see ya and ya dare being late?!” “Sorry.” BigMac appologised. “Sorry? That’s it? Ya better fix your attitude ‘fore next week!” “How was the ride?” “‘t was a pain. Don’t try to change the subject here!” “Figured. Still angry?” “‘til you redeem yerself, yes.” “And with a free entrance to a club tonight?” “‘t might excuse the delay.” “There’s more?” “Yes! Like leaving Granny and myself with the family business! Ah gave up college to keep it afloat!” “Sorry.” ~~~~~~ “So, if I give you something that makes your sister really happy you’ll let my friend and I in?” Asked Patty. “Yep.” “I’m the best when it comes to happiness. How about two tickets for the basketball game next week?” “Manehatten’s Changelings against The Appleloosa Bulls? Isn’t it sold out?” “I have my ways.” Replied Patty, taking a score of tickets out of a hidden pocket. “And here comes the star.” She murmured, seeing Rarity approaching, before crying as loud as she could. “RARITY! OVER HERE!” Everyone was gawking at Rarity as she approached the club for they probably never saw someone with real style. She wore a pure white dress (short enough to be suggestive but not vulgar), a broad purple belt that echoed her hair’s hue and a matching handbag with a diamond (real or fake, only Rarity knows) studded locket. She wore a light makeup that highlighted her natural beauty and her wavy hair cascaded down her right shoulder like a river of purple laker. “So, my dear, do we have entry?” She asked. “Of course! right?” Said Patty, winking at BigMac as she put the tickets in his breast pocket. “Yep. I guess.” Answered BigMac while patting his pocket. “Then what are we waiting for? Come on!” Patty took Rarity by the arm and they went straight for the door. As soon as they crossed the soundproofed doors, they entered into a whole other world made of music and lights. Vinyl had only taken the stage for a minute but the crowd was already ensnared by the rhythm of her music. Multicolored lights flashed on the beat, burning each motion of the people into their retina like an after image, giving the whole scene an heady atmosphere. “why do I get the feeling that it was a bad idea?” Murmured Rarity as Patty took her to the bar. “You just need a little something to get into the mood.” Patty turned o the barman and added “Two of the usual!” “Two Pink Blast coming right up!” The barman said, taking the stopper of a pink bottle. “What’s that?” Asked Rarity, some fear in her voice. “The best drink EVER! My masterpiece!” Said Patty before adding in a conspiring tone “I get ten percent of the sales.” “As long as I can remember what happened tonight.” “Don’t worry Rare, it’s low on alcohol.” The Pink Blast might not be the best cocktail ever as Patty claimed but it is the sweetest (enough to make your teeth melt) and it did lift Rarity’s spirit. Maybe too much in fact. After just two drinks Rarity found herself in a dancing mood. She danced like a woman possessed by the music that Vinyl was playing and we all know how good that is. Rarity’s skills and style made her the center of everybody’s attention... for a while. Ahh, when was the last time I felt so free? It’s like my mind’s going blank, my worries are flying away. Rarity thought before being brought down from her daydreaming by an unspeakable horror. What kind of deviant is she to dress with such lack of taste! (Jacquelyn had entered the dancefloor in the most country friendly like of way : cowboy hat, leather boots, old jeans and checkered shirt). “Sorry lady, the dance floor's for everyone so ya’ll have to share yer stage with me.” Jacquelyn said in a heavy southern accent. It nearly took a full minute for Rarity to process what was happening. Partly because of Jacquelyn’s absolute lack of style but also because of the strength and wild beauty of her dancing (and herself). “I would rather not dance on the same floor as that.” Rarity said, still shocked by what was before her. “Wha’d ya mean?” “You have no taste, no style.” Answered Rarity “a pity for such a beauty” she might have added after looking more closely at Jacquelyn. “You’ve got guts to say that to my face.” “You are certainly not thinking of ending this argument with violence. I hope?” “Nope, I gotta better idea.” Jacquelyn maliciously answered while pulling a bottle from her bag that was lying nearby. ~~~~~~ “Hey, you made a new friend!” Beamed Patty as Rarity and Jacquelyn approached the bar. “She is not my friend! She’s an enemy of fashion!” Retorted Rarity. “I’ll make ya eat yer words!” Spat Jacquelyn. “Only if I lose.” “Oh! A game! Can I play too?” Asked Patty, full of excitement. “NO!” Rarity and Jacquelyn answered as one. “Master, two rocks glasses, please.” Ordered Jacquelyn. “I’m sorry lady but I give drinks not glasses.” Answered the bartender before adding “If you want to hold a drinking contest you’ll have to order drinks.” “Do ye have the Apple Acres’ Apple Flavored Moonshine?” Inquired Jacquelyn showing her own bottle and then added as the bartender shook his head “Guess not. So I’ll pay fo’ the glasses and ya’ll stop complaining.” Rarity nearly choked on the first sip. She had a coughing fit by the end of the first glass. She began to speak incoherently as she started the third glass. “Darling, you’re beautiful!” She slurred as she began to topple down only to be caught by Jacquelyn’s strong arms. “I guess I’ve won.” Said Jacquelyn as she straightened Rarity up against the bar. “She’s started talking nonsense.” “Rarity never talks nonsense about beauty! She was serious.” Pointed Patty, drinking Rarity’s glass of Moonshine as if it was water. “This stuff’s quite good, I might use it for my future Pink Blast Nine Thousands!” “Ye won’t find it, we don’t sell it.” “What about the apples you used?” “That, we sell” “Do you deliver to bakeries?” “We can. But -” “And I suppose you treasure your clients. Especially the big ones. So how about I make monthly contracts with Apple Acres’ farm and we sign it over one of your fine beverage?” “Well -” “I know it’s sudden, so let’s talk about the details at my house. We can drop Rarity of at her apartment too. And I need to leave a message to her boss.” Patty finished her sentenced on a gloomy, threatening tone. ~~~~~~ The next day was pure agony for Rarity, she was a mess : her eyes were red, her throat was drier than the desert, her dress was crumpled and her head was pounding as if a thousand Pattys were causing mayhem in her brain. But, besides all that, she hadn’t been sick and a pleasant taste of apples lingered on her tongue. At least I got drunk with high quality alcohol. She thought, edging forward through her workshop. “If only that girl knew how to dress with style.” She murmured, her gaze lingering on some fabric in her workshop, her mind racing with ideas.