//------------------------------//
// Debut Things 
// Story: The Things Tavi Says 
// by shortskirtsandexplosions 
//------------------------------//

	Lights, breaths, sweat...

The Havaneigh Club sweeps left and right with heat and hysteria, and here we stand in the fulcrum, glued to the stage and speakers.

I spin record after record, grinning breathily into the madness. The mix grows more and more frantic, covering every square inch of the melody that comprises me.

And the audience eats it up.  From wall to wall, the crowd is hopping, jiving.

Roadie Beau?

He makes sure of it.

Shouting into the mic and bouncing on stage between each burning bridge.

He delivers it.

"Uh!  Uh!  Yeah!"  He grins from ear to ear.  The stallion's sported a mohawk overnight.  We are both wearing our masks for this reunion, and it's magical.  "Welcome to the Equestrian Underground!  Club Music is Magic, motherbuckersssssss!  Wooooo!"

The crowd cheers.  A salvo of golden noise issuing outward from every uvula.  I spin with it, scratching discs, mixing classics together into a schizophrenic sound stroganoff.

I can tell Beau's getting into it.  There's something crazy about tonight.  I think he's both scared and inspired all at once.

"Haaah!  Wow!  Let's hear it for DJ-P0N3!  She knows how to get dirty!"

I grin.  With a glint of my shades, I throw us into an old trance track just to segue from one hit to another.  Beau recognizes the audio cue.  He knows something is up.  He just doesn't know what... even if he thinks he does.

"The night ain't over, folks!"  His voice crackles over the speakers.  "Scream real loud if you wanna hear the lady of the night drop the bass in your face!"

The hall rumbles with thunderous applause.  Ponies are dancing.  Gyrating.  It's the sexiest pile of unsuspecting souls.

I press my lips together and produce a shrill whistle.

This startles Beau.  Through the blast of magenta, I see him looking at me.  I realize that he's never heard me whistle without the risk of collapse before.  He squints curiously across the flashing lights above our stage.

I give him a signal, waving a pattern with my hooves that he hasn't seen in forever.

At first, he blinks, a little bit incredulous.

I simply smile at him.

Clearing his throat, he trains an eye on me before pivoting to face the crowd.  "Yo yo yo—brothers and sisters of Atlantrot!  We've got a treat for you this evening!  For you and your ears alone, a brand new track from the one and only DJ-P0N3!"

Mixed gasps and murmurs ripple across the electric crowd.

"Live at the Havaneigh Bar!  A new and exclusive work, never before heard!  Give it up for the freshest vinyl this side of Manehattan!"  He lowers the mic and faces me, mouthing: "Knock 'em dead."

I nod back.  Then, with a deep breath... I pop in track number three...

...from the new album.

And immediately the speakers drip with blue ice.  The entire hallroom chills over, taking on a cyan hue.  The gold and crimson cuts off as everypony immediately holds their breath.

The dancing stops.  Groups that were chatting and wallflowering before suddenly pivot towards the stage with wide eyes.

Beau twirls towards me, his jaw agape.  I can see it all in his eyes—the surprise... the awe... and the wonderment.

That's when I realize that this stallion—one of the best friends I've ever had—has never truly heard my voice.

Not until now.

It's beautiful.  He's beautiful.  Every damn soul in this club is beautiful.

And so, with a smile, I offer up this gift to them.

The vocals shift, repeat, rise, and reach a breaking point.  My hoof falls.  And—

The beat kicks in.  The track comes alive with an auditory avalance of fireworks.  The lights billow blue and bastardly along with it, and it shocks the entire club into a heart attack.

Everypony exhales as if they's just survived a lightning strike, only to find that the roller coaster has just started.  The room fills with applause, a red fountain to accompany the melting blue.  And suddenly everyone is hopping... grooving... cheering with the beat.

And that's how I know that Cyan Sings has returned to stage again.

I grin, bobbing with the fresh new track.  I look over my booth at Beau.

He stands limply in place, gawking at me.

I wink at him.

He blinks... then smiles back.  At last, he raises the mic to his muzzle:  "WOOO!  Now that's what I'm talking about!  Yeahhhh!"  He bounces atop the stage, and the audience eats it up, cheering and shouting.

And for the next few minutes...

...we own the heart of Atlantrot.