• Published 12th Apr 2015
  • 311 Views, 0 Comments

Blue Note's Song - The Whitecandle



Welcome to the Canterlot Balcony Cabaret, the venue on the cutting edge of live Equestrian jazz performance. On the playbill today is one Blue 'Note' Noteworthy, along with a side 'affair' behind the curtains...

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Day 1- At Home

Blue brought forth a blunt frown, bleary as he fumbled into his apartment. His ears pricked up at the assault on his ears. Of course he’d left his radio on the jazz and standards channel. The radio seemed to grow louder, blasting “I Know How To Do It” through its speaker.

His ears began to subtly twitch.

His hoof hugged the wall, wandering to the light switch. He squinted his eyes shut to block out the flood of light, pulling out a stool as he passed the center island in the kitchen.

He swore he was fixin’ to punch that damnable thing.

Over to the liquor shelf he strolled, pulling a fine bourbon of the top shelf along with a clean rag and a shot glass from the cupboard.

The radio swayed back and forth, grabbing his gaze and arousing his ire.

The radio bounced on the windowsill as if it were a child, its buzzy drone irritating in Blue’s ear.

His hoof tapped the counter, his patience growing thinner...

Just as he sat down at the stool, the amber liquid flowing smoothly, filling the contours of the bottom of the glass, the phone rang. His hoof shot out without hesitation to hush the music as he picked up the receiver.
“... Y’ellow?”
...
“Snap.”

“Up to? Got my muzzle half buried in drink. How’d it go?”
He rubbed his muzzle with a tired hoof, stretching his skin.
“... Somepony asking for me?”

“Let me guess, slate gray coat and pink bowtie?”

“Call it ESP. You got her card?”

“I’m old fashioned like that. Have a good one, Snap.”

He stared at the radio, his wrist twitching. He groaned softly before turning the volume dial back, the mare’s shrill voice tugging its way out of the mesh over the speaker.

The music was bad, but anything was better than silence.

The lion pulled a scrap of paper from the pocket of his violet suit-vest, scribbling down her first name and her number before letting the phone rest on the hook.
Octavia, the object of Aphrodite’s ire. He chewed his lip, eyes glued to her name.

Author's Note:

Songs Referenced:
I Know How To Do It - Natalie Merchant: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6pBXc4fmXOw

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