I've never been to one of these things before. Not concerts in general, I mean, just one of this genre. I feel so out of place. I'm surrounded by little fillies and the occasional colt here and there. I'm not going anywhere, though. I paid for this ticket, and I'm not leaving until it's over.
The lights suddenly go out, and then it starts. Synth strings rising up as the lights do. Multicolored patterns swirl and merge on the massive screen set up just beyond the stage. Then the drums start up, and lights spring to life over the drummer. Then the bass line kicks in, and then the lead guitar. I know what's coming, but it doesn't prepare me for really seeing it.
All of a sudden, she's there, tossing her blonde mane and belting out her lyrics with a spunky attitude that might as well be trademarked. Actually, it might be. She sashays her way to the front of the stage as the song's bridge rolls in, and then she pauses. The lights go out, the bass drops, and then my eyes are assaulted by a flurry of colored lights and my mane is peppered with a blast of confetti as she resumes her singing.
Then she catches sight of me. You might be all like, "But Vinyl, how can you know she's looking at you? The crowd is so huge." I just know, okay? Besides, she stuttered and screwed up her line when she looked at me. At least she doesn't just lip sync.
She steps back on the stage, swinging her tail in that way that makes all the colts in the audience hoot. She's already recovered from the sight of me and is back into her groove. She's a professional, I'll give her that.
She's also got money, now. More than I ever did. I suppose that's why she did it. She never did strike me as the type to take up gigs like this, and yet here she is. Don't get me wrong; I'm totally happy for her. She's got it all, and claims to be happy enough.
Sometimes, though, I just miss the old Octavia.