Octavia sat in front of her bathroom mirror adjusting her tie. Her mane and tail were delicately brushed, her teeth expertly cleaned, and her hooves finally manicured. She had been invited to Neon’s party, and having no idea what it would be like for the release of an electronic album, had spared no expense in making herself look neat.
“This is the fifth time you’ve adjusted that bow tie,” Care Package said, snapping Octavia out of her reverie. “It’s not going to be that fancy.”
“I know, I know!” Octavia said, turning around to face Care Package standing at the entry to the bathroom. “I just… I like to look presentable when going somewhere.”
Care Package was smiling at her. “Well, you look very presentable. But this isn’t a Canterlot dinner party. Things like this are a little more informal.”
Octavia straightened the tie one more time. Even at the clubs she’d been to in Canterlot, it was natural for her to at least look nice upon going out somewhere; time spent on grooming was partly seen as a status symbol, but also Octavia viewed herself as a mature mare and noticed she tended to get a bit more respect if she had herself cleaned up.
But she didn’t tell Care Package that. She thought he might not understand, coming from smaller cities than Canterlot. “I just like to look nice,” she said. “It’s something left over from my mother.”
“Well, you’ll be the prettiest mare at the party,” Care Package said kindly. “Come on; we should get going. You have the invitation?”
Octavia walked over to the kitchen and picked up the invitation from the counter. She folded it neatly and tucked it into the collar holding the bow tie on her neck. “There. I’m ready.”
Care Package nodded. “Spectrum will be meeting us there.”
Octavia and Care Package left the house on the hill and walked down into Ponyville’s main streets towards the main square. Off in the distance, Octavia could see bright, multi-colored lights shining down into the cool of the night and could hear music – the muffled sounds of synthesizers, drums, and guitar. They turned at the main square and headed towards small plaza that contained Recorderz music shop.
The other shops in the plaza were closed, the windows dark and the aisles inside were lifeless. But Recorders was plastered with posters of Neon’s face, or of minimalist profile shots of him in what almost looked like a standard black collar shirt and red tie. Bright lights shown around and flashed red, white, blue, orange, pink; inside the color scheme was completely covered in a bright blue that turned everything monochrome.
A velvet-like rope was attached to posts and formed a line along the edge of the plaza, crossing in front of the darkened shops. Ponies filled the line and Octavia found herself surprised when it looked like the line stretched around towards the back of the plaza.
Thank Celestia for the invitation, Octavia thought to herself. She would not have liked to spend time in that line; a large pony dressed entirely in black guarded the door and only let in small groups at a time, and only when another had left. Who knew how long it would have been just to enter the shop.
Care Package poked Octavia’s shoulder. “Spectrum’s over there. We’ll probably be there in a few minutes. Go on in; show him the invitation.” He pointed to the pony dressed in black.
Octavia gulped and watched wistfully as Care Package went off to join Spectrum. She looked at him for a while and wished that one of them would be able to join her so that she wouldn’t be in there alone even for a few minutes. She walked nervously up to the pony in black, noticing a police baton as the cutie mark and rough edges around the square jaw and a military mane-cut.
“Excuse me?” Octavia said quietly.
“No ponies allowed unless I say,” the pony said sternly. “If you want in, get in the back of the line, miss. I ain’t allowed to let anyone in until someone comes out.”
“Uh… I-I’ve got an invitation.” The words came out a little stronger than before, but Octavia still wasn’t sure what to do.
“Psht. They all say that,” he said dismissively. “So many fanmares comin’ in here sayin’ that they got an invitation to a private party. I’ve got orders; I ain’t lettin’ you in.”
Octavia remembered the paper tickling at her neck. She took it out with a hoof and handed it to him. “You want proof? Here’s proof.”
The guard took it and opened it. He scanned it for a minute before nodding and pulling up a walkie-talkie from behind him. “What’s your name, miss?”
For a moment, Octavia stood still and silent. Was he part of the police? No; he didn’t look like one, or at least like one of the guard that she’d seen walking around here. Wait a miunte… I remember now. He must be a bouncer. Probably just going to check a guest list or something. “Octavia.”
The guard pressed a button on the walkie-talkie. “Neon. Hey, I got a mare out here with an invitation.” There was a burst of static and a muffled voice that Octavia could not recognize over the crowds and the music, slowly coming to a close. “Says her name’s Octavia. Grey mare, purple treble-clef cutie mark.” The voice came again for a minute. “Alright. I got it.”
The guard put the walkie-talkie back and stood in front of the line of ponies. “Neon gave the green light. You’re in, miss.”
Octavia nodded and walked inside. The music slowed to a stop and a new song started up. A pulsing drum-beat filled the area, but there was the sound of cymbals and the hi-hat amongst the steady bass kick. The drum was joined with a bass guitar putting out a steady eight-note pattern – five high, three low – and at least three mixed synthesizers all following different patterns. The music followed different variations on its theme from time to time, and every once in a while was interjected with a voice that Octavia couldn’t understand properly though seemed to echo and fade in and out.
Even so, the pulsing beat rang in her ears and Octavia felt disoriented, especially once she’d walked a few steps into the room. Everything was an odd shade of blue that felt off and things were monochrome under the blue lights, making it hard to distinguish between the writhing mass of ponies whose coats looked no different from one another. The music combined with the conversation of dozens of ponies now filling the shop was almost mind-numbing and produced a constant stream of sound that made her head spin.
Octavia meandered around a bit, looking at cutie marks and trying to figure out the different ponies. Try as she might, she recognized no one and could barely make out any cutie marks under the blue light. She wished for the familiar red shock of hair that was Care Package or the rainbow cutie mark of Spectrum as a landmark in this mass of ponies.
By chance, Octavia stumbled her way to a table filled with what looked like blue versions of normal food. She noticed there were napkins but no plates, and grabbed a napkin and what looked like a sandwich of some sort. She bit into it tentatively and noticed it tasted vaguely of lettuce, tomato, and hay bacon and she enjoyed it. A cookie that she thought to be chocolate chip turned out to be a rather smooth oatmeal raisin, not disappointing but not entirely to be expected.
She didn’t bother with the hovering blue drink; the glass or plastic container that held it was nearly invisible in the monotone color, and she decided against tasting it until she knew what color it was and had a vague idea of what it could be. Who knows if it’s alcoholic or not if one can’t even have the vaguest sense of what it looks like… Not that I mind alcohol; I just prefer wine.
Octavia had two sandwiches and another cookie before daring to venture back out into the crowds. She tried once and found herself pushed and shoved around; unable to communicate with anyone, she was quickly disoriented and pushed back to the hors d’oeuvres. She picked up another sandwich and munched on it, unable to figure out what to do.
Finally, the music quieted and the lights changed. The shop began to take on its original color, and ponies started gaining back color and hues. There were still pulsing lights around in pink and blue and orange, but the reappearance of color made it so much easier to navigate. She saw a line beginning to form between two of the aisles, and finally the star of the night himself appeared under a giant poster of himself at the opposite corner of the store. At the entrance of the line was a booth selling copies of the CD, and Neon, with pen in his magic, was signing autographs and taking pictures.
And suddenly there was a lavender-grey pegasus with a rainbow cutie mark next to her and waving and smiling happily.
“Hey!” Spectrum seemed to be shouting at full volume, but even so barely made conversational volume. “How are you doing?”
“Disoriented,” Octavia shouted back. “The noise is all blending together. My head hurts.”
“It’s hot in here, too,” Spectrum said. “Your disorientation might be due to heat. Get it all the time in the weather factory. Come on; there’s a water bowl over here.”
Spectrum swiftly grabbed two cups from the hors d’oeuvres table with his wings and led Octavia to a large bowl filled with a clear liquid. He filled up one cup and brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply, before filling the other one and handing it over.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s clean. I just smelled it; no alcohol far as I can tell.”
Octavia took a sip. Almost immediately she felt better as the cool water ran down her throat. She gulped heartily and picked up another one, feeling herself become less disoriented.
“Where’s Care Package?” Octavia shouted.
“He’s off getting an autograph for us. Cost me all my money to let the bouncer let us in, twenty each for the tickets and another ten to get in and I’m cleaned out.”
“What about Neon?” Octavia asked. “Is there any way I can talk to him? What about my invitation?”
“No guarantee we’ll get him alone. But wait until the line gets down a little. We’ll pick you up an album for yourself and at least get you an autograph.”
Octavia got herself another glass of water. She felt weak. Spectrum seemed to pick up on it and took her to a relatively empty corner of the store and sat her down before refilling the water and bringing her a sandwich. Octavia ate and drank and felt better.
“You ever been to something like this before?” Spectrum asked.
Octavia shook her head. “I’ve been to Canterlot clubs before,” Octavia said. “But usually it was a larger room than this.”
Spectrum nodded. “Too many ponies in too tight quarters. I think they might be getting the point now; the ponies are starting to thin out and they’re not letting more in.”
Octavia noticed he was right. The crowds were beginning to disperse and the bouncer seemed to be limiting the amount that came in; Octavia could finally see Care Package’s shock of red mane three ponies away in line to see Neon. Off in the corner, Neon himself had taken a short break from autographs to talk on his own walkie-talkie.
“Did you bring any bits?”
“I assumed I wouldn’t need to. I didn’t think about the album, but I don’t think I need it anyway.”
“You should get one anyway. Be a nice gesture considering he got you in free.”
Octavia felt a little guilty even though Spectrum hadn’t meant to mean it that way. It had completely gone over her head in anticipation and nervousness coming up to the event and the thought that she was getting in free.
“Don’t worry,” Spectrum said. “I’m sure Care Package will have a few spare bits.”
But Care Package didn’t even get an autograph for himself. Right when Care Package was about to come up, Neon suddenly put another call in his walkie-talkie. Within seconds, another pony came out from the back of the store and put a sign on the table and closed off the line. Neon himself retreated to the back room and Care Package trotted over mournfully.
“He’s taking a break,” he said upon reaching them. “Said he needs dinner and hasn’t eaten yet.”
“What time is it?” Octavia asked. “It can’t be that late. We got here about six.”
“It’s seven-fifteen,” Spectrum said, looking at a clock towards the entrance of the store. “We were waiting in line for twenty minutes.”
Octavia gasped. “…oh god! I didn’t realize we’d been here that long.”
“Don’t worry,” Spectrum said. “They’re not going to kick us out. He’ll probably only be out for ten minutes.”
“Then the line will be all full again,” Octavia said irritably. “It’ll take forever to be able to talk to him, and even then I might only be able to for a few minutes.”
“It’ll go until ten tonight,” Spectrum said. He came over and placed a hoof on Octavia’s shoulder. “I’m sure you could go to his house tomorrow, if what CP says about you knowing him is correct.”
“I’ve met him a few times,” Octavia said. “I don’t really know him.”
She sat down again and rubbed her eyes with her hooves. She heaved a huge sigh. “I don’t even know why I came here. I keep having my friends from Canterlot tell me I need to get out more, and I thought I could do so with him. I thought I’d be able to actually talk to him and instead I’m greeted with the sound of thudding noise and so many ponies I can’t tell who’s who, and it’s crowded and I’m hot and I’m tired and the music hurts my head and it feels like a club in Canterlot and I kind of want to go home.”
And with a suddenness that even took her by surprise, Octavia bust out sobbing. She felt stressed out and confused from the lights and the noise and the music and the way time just seemed to slow down.
Octavia was reminded of the last time she’d been in a Canterlot club. It had been nearly eight months ago now when she’d gone in with Vinyl and Trance Rhythm and a few of their friends. They had eaten some rather delicious street tacos and fries before heading to the club for a couple of drinks and some dancing.
It had been at the end of the point where Octavia had convinced herself she’d be doing the same thing but in different circumstances with her friends. Which was true; a few weeks later, she would be drinking wine and dancing ballroom dances with Frederic and others from the band. Now, it was cocktails and strange dance movements that were more fluid than the rigid formality of the classic two-step and the ronde.
She allowed Vinyl to pick the drink for her that night. It was one of the lightest drinks available; a fruity mixture that tasted like strawberries, mangoes, and lemonade with a vodka kick. It was a sweet flavor and Octavia drank it down easily. After which, Vinyl had pulled her over to the dance floor and they’d begun to dance.
But after a while the alcohol began to kick in. Octavia began stumbling moreso than dancing, and eventually tripped and fell and had difficulty getting up. She swore she didn’t have that much alcohol – only the one light drink – but suddenly she’d come up with a headache, her stomach felt like it was writhing within her, and all sound suddenly became a ringing in her ears.
Vinyl and Trance had picked her up and took her to a table off to the side and got her a glass of water, but that hadn’t even cleared it up. She felt sick and like she was about to throw up. Vinyl had a set later that night, but she immediately went to the MC and told him that the pony ahead of her could go on a little longer; she needed to attend to something and she’d be right back.
After she had talked with the MC, Vinyl took Octavia back to the apartment. She had not left until Octavia had gotten another drink of water, taken a nice hot shower, and had taken an acetaminophen. Octavia had gone to bed immediately afterwards, and Vinyl left to go to her set.
Octavia ended up waking up two hours later and calmed herself down with a record and a book. But then she had decided she couldn’t take it anymore. The pounding bass and the flashing lights were too much for her, and she decided she could not take another minute in a place that that. Vinyl understood the first few times, but after the second time when Octavia adamantly refused, Vinyl said she just had a bad night.
Octavia now knew, standing there with Care Package and Spectrum, having not had any alcohol and yet feeling sick and tired and disoriented, that it wasn’t just a bad night.
Care Package gently lifted her up. “Come on,” he said. “Maybe we should get home.”
Spectrum went and grabbed a napkin, offering it to Octavia. She smiled weakly at him and accepted it, using it to dry her eyes. Once Octavia had calmed down a bit, they started walking towards the door.
“Miss Octavia?”
The three stopped and turned around. Behind them was Neon Lights, his shirt and tie and glasses off. He looked smaller and more normal without the collared shirt and tie, his hair looking like he’d been sweating a lot and pushing it around with his hoof, which he did shortly after Octavia turned around.
“Oh, Neon!” Octavia said, eyes widening for a moment. “I… I was about to leave.”
“I know,” Neon said, looking relieved. “I wanted to catch you before you go.”
“Well, I’m here. Do you… want to talk?”
“Yeah. But, if you don’t mind, think we could do so over there?” He pointed to a table that had been set up in the far corner by where the autographs were. “Might be less noise and less eyes.”
Octavia turned to Care Package and Spectrum, looking for any sort of assistance. I don’t know what to do… I don’t want to do it alone.
But Spectrum gently placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Go,” he said. “We’ll wait for you.”
Octavia nodded and turned around to Neon. “I guess… yes. Yes, I’ll go for a few minutes.”
Neon smiled. “Alright. Come on.”