The two mares eased themselves into their seats, facing each other across a small circular table. The dim overhead lights provided some relief from the yawning darkness of the expansive interior of the club. They examined each other in a moment of awkward silence before Vinyl spoke up, her tone oddly inviting. “So, wanna tell me about it?” she asked.
Octavia sighed deeply before responding, “It's a long story. But the gist of it is that my reputation is in ruins right now and no one will hire me. I normally perform at concert halls and recitals and sometimes for some rich pony's party or black-tie affair, but nopony will hire me right now. I haven't had a paying job in a month and I'm only about a week away from getting kicked out of my apartment. This is the only opportunity my agent had for me. It’s the only musical employment open to me at the moment but I've been avoiding it because it's so different from what I normally do. Obviously I don't know anything about this type of music but I kept holding on to this job opening as my last resort. So when I came down here and you told me to go somewhere else I guess I lost it a little. Actually, as I was walking out I was wondering if I could fit all my possessions into a cardboard box in an alley somewhere, because that's where I'm headed. So you'll have to forgive my little tears earlier, Ms. Scratch; homelessness is a rather depressing prospect. I hope you can understand.”
Vinyl listened to Octavia explain her position, her concern growing with every word. The cellist seemed oblivious but her tone had become more dejected with every sentence. “That's . . . um, wow. I don't know what I was expecting, but that sure wasn't it. So, unless you can make some bits fast you're gonna be out on the street?” Octavia nodded. “Ok. Well, to be honest I had wanted another DJ to help me do my sets at night. I don’t think you’re gonna be very good at that, so how about this; you become my manager and take care of the other stuff so I can focus on the music that draws ponies in here,” Vinyl offered.
Octavia was once more conscious of her lack of familiarity with this environment. “What sort of ‘stuff’ does this entail?” she asked suspiciously.
“Well, as my manager it’ll be your job to supervise my other employees and to take care of their questions and problems as best you can. You keep an eye on the crowd and watch out for trouble. Make sure everypony does their job right. Serve as an intermediary between the owner and everypony else. That sort of stuff.”
“And just who exactly is the owner?” Octavia demanded.
“What? You didn’t figure it out already?” Vinyl asked. “I’m the owner. I kinda thought it would be obvious what with me talking about ‘my manager’ and ‘my employees’. And talking about hiring you and all.”
“Forgive me; it just didn’t occur to me that you could be the owner,” Octavia said.
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Vinyl demanded.
“Nothing, nothing!” Octavia hurriedly explained. “You just don’t look like a businesspony.”
“That’s ‘cause I ain’t no businesspony, Treble Clef,” Vinyl explained with a smirk tugging at her muzzle. “I’m just a DJ with a dream. I’ve wanted my own club where I could mix and scratch to my heart’s content ever since I started making a living spinning my tracks. It’s taken me years but I finally scraped together enough money to get this place set up. Counting you, I’ve got enough ponies to help me run this place. Just in time; tomorrow is our grand opening.”
“Wait, you mean you’re not even open for business yet?” Octavia asked, perplexed.
“Not yet. I only just finished wiring the lights and audio equipment the other day. The bar was just installed last week and the dance floor had to be surfaced before all that.”
Octavia was taken aback by the other mare’s earnestness. She decided to change the subject back to her presumed responsibilities. “So who else have you roped into this carnival sideshow besides myself?”
“Hm?” Vinyl replied, still lost in her dreams. “Oh, who else works here? Not too many, actually. There’s you ‘n me and a barcolt and a couple of bouncers. And the strippers, of course,” she added nonchalantly.
Octavia’s eyes constricted in horror as the bottom fell out of her stomach. “Strippers?” she whispered in disbelief.
“Nah, I’m just messin’ with ya. No strippers here. Not unless you wanna volunteer; you’ve got the flank for it,” Vinyl finished, cocking her head as if pondering the mare across from her.
Octavia gaped, torn between outrage and embarrassment at the mental image of herself, dancing on some stage like a degenerate showmare. A sharp retort died on her tongue, though, as she saw Vinyl’s barely contained laughter. “This is sexual harassment,” she replied deadpan. “I’ll sue.”
“I haven’t formally hired you yet so it can’t be harassment. This is still considered flirting,” Vinyl replied easily.
As an elegant counterpoint Octavia settled for an unimpressed snort. “If you’re going to flirt with me you could at least buy me dinner.” An ill-timed rumble from her empty stomach turned a mortified Octavia’s sarcastic rejoinder into something a little more literal.
Vinyl’s face and voice lost its playful quality. “When’s the last time you ate?” she demanded suspiciously.
Caught off-guard, Octavia couldn’t fabricate a decent lie. “Oh, well, it’s been a few days. I guess.”
Vinyl said nothing for a long moment, simply staring at Octavia for long enough to make her uncomfortable. “You're about to get evicted from your place; don't tell me you've been going hungry too,” she finally said.
Octavia squirmed guiltily; she was ashamed to admit how low she had fallen but she also didn't want to lie to the pony who was offering her the job that would save her from her predicament. She compromised by saying nothing, suddenly finding the surface of the table fascinating.
Without warning Vinyl heaved herself out of her seat. The sudden sound of her hooves striking the polished surface of the floor jarred Octavia from her contemplation. She looked up in time to see Vinyl's blue tail swishing purposefully behind her as she trotted towards the door. Glancing back over her shoulder, she called back, “Hey, you comin' or not?” with her usual light and easy tone.
Octavia hurriedly followed after the other mare. After a few hastened steps she fell into step alongside her. “Um, where are we going, Ms. Scratch?” she asked.
“We're going to grab a late dinner. My treat.”
Octavia was torn by a conflicting mixture of gratitude and revulsion. She didn't want to have to rely on a mare she had just met to feed her, but the gnawing ache of hunger made her decision a foregone conclusion. With a heartfelt “thank you” that Vinyl promptly disclaimed, the two musicians made their way out into the crisp air of newly-fallen darkness.
Under the light of the stars and moon their hoofsteps synchronized as they struck against the surface of the paved roads. Octavia resisted the urge to stare at Vinyl out of the corner of her eye, but she couldn’t resist being intrigued by the generosity of the mare she trotted beside. The swell of her gratitude buoyed her spirits, leaving her outlook rosier than remembered it being any time in the last month. “Thank you again, Vinyl. I don’t know how to fully show you my gratitude, but this may well be one of the kindest things anypony has ever done for me,” she said, interrupting their silent trek.
Vinyl gently snorted. “For like the fifth freaking time, don’t mention it.”
“I’m being serious,” Octavia objected. “I know it’s not much, but my thanks is all I have to offer you right now.”
“Oh, really?” Vinyl questioned, a huge grin spreading over her face. “Is that all?” The erratic flicking of her tail behind her was just energetic enough to lead it to softly brush against the side of Octavia’s flank, leaving a streak of warmth behind it that bloomed into a radiant blush on her face.
“I . . . I don’t –“ Octavia began, fighting against the sudden pattering of her heart.
“Oh look, we’re here,” Vinyl announced gleefully as the brightly-lit windows of the destination came into view, casting welcoming illumination in pools on the darkened streets. “Come on.”
Wordlessly, Octavia followed Vinyl into the restaurant, doing her level best to look at anything other than perfectly white flanks adorned by a barred eight note and a tail of luminous blue.