"Glad you all could make it!" I declared to the mass of screaming fans in front of me.
They, all five of them, looked back with various expressions of interest and curiosity. Well, except for one. She was as excited as always. So in a way, she made it a screaming crowd.
"Rainbow?" Applejack asked, looking at me unamused, "Just why have ya dragged us all out to a piano bar?"
I grinned as I took a glance behind me at the place, looking out from the round table we all sat at. It wasn't anything too special, just a small place in town, but I have to admit, it had a good atmosphere. It was situated right in the spot between shady and lively.
As I turned back to them, I caught sight of Rarity and Twilight sharing a knowing look. "That's right," I addressed, causing them to look back as if they were caught with a hoof in the cookie jar, "You were all brought here for that."
“What now?" Applejack asked, "You told them but ya didn't tell the rest of us?"
"Eh, sort of. I needed Twilight's help setting this up and Rarity was just..." My hoof made a swirling motion as I thought of an answer. I had a feeling saying "horning in" wouldn't have been appreciated. "...Being Rarity," I finished.
"Dear," she said flatly as she gave me a raised-eyebrow look, "May I ask what you mean by that?"
I matched her fake accent (It is fake, right? Who actually talks like that?). "No darling, you may not ask." Her lip curled into an expression that asked, "Really?" Call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure that it also had an accent.
"Can ya just tell us why we're here?" Applejack deadpanned.
"You bet!" I replied. Clearing my throat, I announced, "Ladies and..." I looked at the group. "...Applejack." I held back a smirk as I heard her indignant snort. "I have gathered you all here today to witness the most amazing feats ever known to ponykind—"
"Trixie already said that." Pinkie piped in.
"What?" I cried, "But I spent all of last night coming up with them!"
"I liked them..." Fluttershy commented, "They sounded... dramatic."
Rarity asked to her, "Weren't you someplace else when Trixie was talking like that on her first visit?"
She blinked. "Oh."
"Anyways," I said gaining their attention again, "I brought you all here for a truly awe-inspiring, amazing, simply awesome—"
"Just get to the point, Rainbow," Applejack said.
I grinned at her. "Oh, but you won't be so smug when you see what I'm offering. You better hold onto that hat of yours because it'll just come flying off—"
She glared at me.
I smirked back, eyes half-lidded in my own teasing sense of humor. What can I say? She keeps walking into it.
"You know, Applejack," Twilight spoke, "The more you push her, the more she's going to stall."
Hey gaze traveled from mine to Twilight's, then back to mine. She narrowed her gaze as she ceded. "Fine."
I held back a chuckle. "I win," I mouthed silently to her.
Her eyes widened and nostrils flared; she nearly stamped her hoof but set it down quietly, minding the business around here. She opened her mouth to say something, and I widened my smile to match. Her mouth hung silently for a moment before she slowly closed it, her eyes drilling into me. Well, mostly. If they can't kill, they can't drill.
That worked well, I thought, taking a moment to take in the sweet stench of victory. "Alright," I said, "I guess I'll tell you since you've been oh-so patient with me." I took in a deep breath, letting my head follow the exhale. "I brought you all here to listen to my first ever concert."
Three out of five sets of eyes widened. Scratch that, two out of five. The one-pony crowd was already like that. "Oh, wow!" the one-pony crowd known, also known as Pinkie, said, "I didn't know you played an instrument. Is it a harmonica? Drum? Organ? 'Cause I play all of them!"
I glanced at the piano across the room. "Yes," I answered.
"Hold it," Applejack said, "Ya'll are tellin' me the self-proclaimed fastest athlete in Equestria can sit down and play one of them 'classical' instruments."
"Eeyup."
Applejack turned to Twilight. "Is she a changelin'?"
She shook her head. "No. I already checked."
"Rainbow? Care to explain?"
I nodded. "Long story short, I was put through the torturous game of being forced to take lessons as a foal. But thanks to Rarity, I've done a complete three-sixty." For some reason, Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but she just shook her head. "I'm going to give this a real shot."
"More like a shot in the dark," she commented.
It was my turn to roll my eyes. "More like a light in the dark. You just haven't heard me play. Once this guy—" I pointed to the pony currently playing some low-key tune, "—is done, they're going to call me up."
"I assume you'll be playing out of your repertoire?" Rarity prompted.
"Heh... no," I admitted, "I can barely remember how any of them went. I'll be going off of sheets." Slamming my hoof to the table, I declared, "But you better bet it'll be just as awesome! I even brought a second tip jar for when the first when gets filled." I pulled the glass container out just to prove my very valid point.
"Dear Celestia..." Applejack muttered to my very valid point.
"Oh, hey!" I said, "I have an idea! Why don't you all just tip me now and save yourselves the trouble of doing it later?" None of them moved. Well, that's what I get for being considerate, eh?
"Rainbow..." Rarity started, her voice sounding hesitant, "I'm not sure you're seeing this right."
“Huh?" I asked. Nothing was fuzzy to me. In fact, I'd say the reception was better than ever.
"When I convinced you to try this out, I—"
Whatever she was going to say was cut off as the barkeep announced over the mic, "And that was Blues performing... well, the blues. Next up, we have..." He paused to look at the paper he held. I recognized the sheet—it was the one I wrote on. My turn! "Next we have 'Spectrum' performing a medley of 'awesome beats.'"
"I think we know who that is," Pinkie chimed in a sing-song voice.
"Indeed," Twilight agreed, "But why did he call you 'Spectrum'?"
I waved a hoof in dismissal. "I figured that if I was going to be famous, I'd need a cool stage name to match. Not that my real name isn't cool, of course."
She grimaced slightly. "Not that that's a bad name... but why in Equestria did you think it was a good name?"
"I like it, and it fits me, what with my mane and all. Besides, it was between 'Spectrum' and 'Spectrumare,' and the first one was better." I started pulling out the sheets from my bag as I talked.
"Spectrumare..." she repeated morosely, "That sounds like a name a superhero would have..."
"Thanks!" I replied.
Her head hit the table.
"Well, enjoy the show, girls. Sit back, order a cider, and listen to music." As fun as talking with them was, it was show time. Everything I needed clutched tightly in my grasp, I made a brisk trot to the center stage. Despite being called a piano bar, the place was more of an open mic kind of place. If you could do something, musical or not, then you were welcome to perform. Placing my tip jars in position, I bounded up to the stool with a flap of my wings. Of course, I figured, being called a piano bar would make it known for piano performances.
I set out the sheet arrangement for my first song then took a look out to the demure crowd. My friends were easily the most colorful of the bunch, figuratively and literally, and were watching with mixtures of interest. The rest of the audience were random ponies, some I've seen around town, some not, along with fellow performers like that Blues guy who was currently taking his seat. Everyone else watched expectantly.
I leaned towards the microphone situated just a bit above the keys as to not interfere and said, "Hellooo everypony!”
Someone coughed in applause.
“As you all heard, I’m Spectrum, and I’ll be the one that’s going to be spending the rest of the night in jail. ‘Why?’ you may ask. Because I’m going to be stealing the show!” Nailed it. “Without further ado, I present to you the best, the awesome, the radical—”
“Get on with it,” some heckler decided to call out.
I gave him a withering glare before turning promptly back to the instrument. I couldn’t help but smile, though. Nothing is better than proving a skeptic of your skill wrong. “Heh,” I muttered to myself, away from the mic, “On with the show.” I spread out my sheet music across the stand for the best view. “And here… we… go!”
I struck a powerful minor chord high on the keyboard, its chime resonating across the room as a deep bass note accented the ominous feel. I smiled. Perfect. My hoof trekked down across the keyboard, instantly hitting a much lower series of notes that ascended into a buff riff of tension-building. I let it sit for only a moment, before bursting into a mid-tempo rocker. To be honest, I’m not sure what the song was, exactly, but I guess the best way to describe it would be a “bluesy, fast-paced waltz.” Even a bit classical at a few bits. Not that it mattered, really. It was close enough to rock for my tastes.
Reaching a point where I had enough muscle memory to guide me, I took a look out to the crowd. Everyone was watching, or listening, rather, with interest, some actually wearing surprise. To my stifled laughter, one of them happened to be an orange coated friend of mine.
As I ran through the end of the song, winding down from a dramatic climax, if I do say so myself, the sounds of applause filled the room. “Thank you, yes, thank you!” I said through the mic. Ah, I do love the sound of cheering fans. I basked in it for a moment more before breaking away to the next song. I had just four songs total, due in part to the short amount of time I had to prepare, but they were all good. Though, I did have to choose one I wasn’t a big fan of, which is what I prepared to start now. “This next song is a more elaborate piece, featuring the chromatic scale–”
A wild chuckle flew through the crowd. I raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, then…” I muttered before turning back to the piano. No time to ponder a joke everyone else suddenly heard. I had a song to perform.
Why didn’t I like this one? Simple question, simple answer. Too slow! But people always seemed to like it so, hey, whatever works. I trailed a simple chord progression across the keys, picking out a warming melody with a more active bass filling in gaps. Not really feeling it, I just floated aimlessly through the song, that is, until one certain pony from earlier decided to flap his mouth again.
“Too slow,” he commented. Even if I agreed, I wasn’t taking that.
The piano came screeching to a halt, not that it was going fast to begin with, an unusual silence taking its place. I could feel everyone’s stares on me; I had just cut off in the middle of the song. I ignored them, however, in favor of the stallion that had interrupted. I turned to him, a wicked grin plastering my face. “No one,” I said, “Calls me slow.”
I didn’t bother seeing his reaction. I knew I was right. With a simple flick of my hooves, the piano flew into an electrifying race, striking chords being played in rapid succession as the bass kept up the rhythm. Just as suddenly, the roles reversed as the melody turned into a series of descending and ascending notes before exploding into a mad dash down the keyboard. Now that! …is music.
In simpler words: awesome.