A crescendo.
A rise and fall of oboes and clarinets, mixed with a synthesized beat.
It all comes to fruition, clashing, splashing, rivuleting outward to cover all surfaces of the dance hall.
And at last...
The speakers go silent. The lights stop spinning.
And sweating... bobbing... grinning...
...Simon Neighs removes his headphones and steps back from the DJ Booth. He stretches both forelimbs outward into the foglight, grinning wildly.
"Thank you, Bostrot!" The entire dance hall explodes with golden cheer and mirth, followed by crimson applause. He waves a hoof at them, chuckling maniacally. "You've been absolutely badflank! Now good night and swing tight! Simon Neighs, signing out—but not for good!"
More applause. Gradually, the party calms down, breaking into separate groups that lurch their way towards the exit.
Simon takes the moment to sip from a bottle of water. He splashes some on his forehead, careful not to douse his expensive headphones. "Mmmmm... yeah... heheh..." A lingering grin. "If you can devour chowder, you can devour anything."
A roadie trotted briskly up to the stage. "Say... uh... Simon? Great show! Really swingin'!"
"Well, that's the whole point, Jerry."
"But... uhm... before we pack your things back to the hotel. Erm..." The stallion fidgeted. "There's somepony here who would like to see you."
"Pffft. Dude... we did the meet'n'greet before the session. I mean..." Simon frowned as he shut down his equipment. "I hate to be a total stick-in-the mud, but I gotta make it to Baltimare by tomorrow evening. We can set up an aftershow for fans then."
"I... uh... I think you'll change your mind when you see who it is."
"Eugh... fine." Simon Neighs lets out a sigh as he turns towards the edge of the stage. "It'd better be Brayonce or else you're back on water bottle duty." He looks up... and his muzzle falls wide. The headphones nearly slip off his head. "Oh my goddess."
I stand before him. I smile.
"V... V-Vinyl Scratch..." He gulps. "Is... is it really you?" He gulps again. "Jeez... how long has it been since Sacramentoats, girl?! I... I-I..." He almost grins, but that smile just as swiftly dissolves. He fidgets awkwardly, then blurts, "The industry's all a-buzz about you, girl. Word is DJ-P0N3 canceled her latest tours. I... I-I tried asking Roadie Beau where you'd gone, and... and he didn't know. Said something about 'crud going down in her hometown' and you disappearing."
I nod gently.
"Just... just where have you been? I mean... heh... artists are what artists do, but ponies have been worried, girl!"
I motion for him to come closer.
He does so, shivering slightly.
I reach into a messenger bag and levitate a pad of paper. Using a floating pen, I scribble on it, then hold the thing out before him.
His eyes read the hastily scribbled words. "Uhhhh..." He looks up at me, blinking. "Well, yeah. As a matter of fact, I do know where she lives."
I scribble another sentence. I hold it out to him.
He gulps. "Just... just what do you want to see her for? I mean... I figured after what happened in... in..."
I raise an eyebrow over my shades.
He waves his forelimbs. "Okay... okay. I... uhm... I promised her a long time ago that I wouldn't give her address out willy-nilly, but..." He smiles crookedly. "This feels like a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Am I wrong?"
I shake my head.
He exhales. "Well... whatever you're up to, I can bet it's something awesome."
I scribble one word. I hold it out to him.
"Hah!" Simon chuckles. "Okay, then! Epic."
My lips curve. I lean my head to the side inquisitively.
"Alright... so... uhm..." He gestures for the notepad and pen. "Lemme just write down the address for you. But on one condition." His eyes dart up as he points at me. "Nopony else knows I gave this to you. Got it?"
I wouldn't think of it...