• Published 1st Sep 2021
  • 2,480 Views, 903 Comments

Electro Swing - Rego



When blame is cast on Vinyl Scratch for ruining an elite winter party, Fancy Pants intercedes on her behalf. However, even the Kingmaker of Canterlot may lack the power to stop the record from spinning out of control.

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Chapter 11: Leave Them in the Gutter

Vinyl nervously drummed her hooves as she waited in her apartment complex’s office. The Lofts of Canterlot maintained a mix of modern chic and Canterlotian charm. Minimalistic furniture and sparse decor dotted the lobby amid the faded royal mauve and gold coloration of the castle town. The light shining through the window cast the entire room in a mid-morning glow. With so little to distract her, the DJ couldn’t help staring between the clock on the wall and her mish-mash of hastily crammed documents in an overflowing folder.

She’d done her best to cobble together every scrap of paper that might help her prove she was capable of handling her apartment’s rent. Vinyl wasn’t sure if it would satisfy the owner long-term, but there was still hope that the amount could counter the eviction notice. The little note she found tacked to her door last night had kept her busy until morning. Sifting through the disheveled stacks of contracts took hours and yielded too few useful supporting documents to her claim of financial well-being.

The office had opened on time, but as luck would have it, her landmare was nowhere in sight. It was Hearth’s Warming Eve, so Land Sakes was probably taking it easier today. Still, the DJ’s goodwill towards ponies was reaching its sleep-deprived limit. Vinyl knew the landmare’s annual tradition of going door to door to give out free cookies to her tenants, and she was counting on confronting Land Sakes at the office before she started her deliveries.

Vinyl grumbled as she shuffled her papers again for the umpteenth time. She wanted to plan out her path through the meeting, but her exhaustion wasn’t helping her think. The morning’s caffeine infusion could only go so far. She wasn’t sure if she should lead off with her statements from Cantrips or the one from de Lune. While she earned a lot more from DJing at Cantrips, de Lune probably looked better in establishing a regular paycheck. There were also her freelancing contracts she’d brought with her, but the vaguer she kept those underground gigs, the better.

Looking back through her de Lune paperwork again, she grimaced as the memories from last night wormed their way into her head. After the Moondance had ended, she asked Éclair de Lune for the proof of income statement. The plan went awry when the baker consulted Fancy Pants for help. The savvier pony had only taken a quick glance over it to help fix a few of her errors, but…

The way Fancy Pants had looked at her. He knew. He just somehow knew. The pity in those eyes. It was that same gentle concern Fancy had shown her at Cantrips when she sank into that drunken stupor. Vinyl felt exposed. Nopony was supposed to know how closely she teetered on the edge. She didn’t want to worry anypony with her problems, especially those closest to her.

All of that would have to wait until later. The click of a door snapped Vinyl’s attention to the entrance as an aquamarine pegasus strode in. She held several files in one wing and shuffled through documents in the other. The mare picked through them carefully with well practiced twitches of her feathers, keeping her hooves free to focus on her brisk trot towards Land Sakes’ office. Her dark teal coiffure was swirled into an elegant updo bun. Vinyl had never seen the steely-eyed pegasus before, but she was certain of two things: she was not a tenant nor her landmare.

The richly dressed mare regarded Vinyl’s presence briefly as she passed by her to the main office. She produced a large keyring, flipped over to a match to the door, and unlocked it, all without looking at her hooves. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Come in, Miss Vinyl Scratch.”

Upon hearing her full name, Vinyl felt a surge of nerve-wracked adrenaline shoot through her body. Land Sakes was an older, more grounded earth pony capable of sympathy, while the power-suited pegasus seemed far more likely to sell her firstborn foal for stock options.

“You were expecting me?” she hesitantly asked as she followed the mare into the equally Canterlot-chic office.

“Of course. You’re the whole reason I am here today, Miss Scratch.” The mare pulled the curtains open with a hoof while browsing her files with her wings. Vinyl had never seen a pegasus so nimbly flex their wings for such a mundane task before. The dexterity she displayed would put some of the ESPA’s feather flutists to shame.

“Where is Land Sakes?”

“She’s taking a vacation to visit family in Appleoosa. She will be unavailable until after the new year, so you’ll be dealing with me directly for once.” Vinyl winced as the other mare sat down in the creaky chair in a fluid motion. With a single wing flap, the pegasus fanned out her file’s contents before resting her chin on her hooves. She glanced at the stool across from her and Vinyl quickly took the hint as well as her seat.

“But I am getting ahead of myself. My name is Lofty Heights, the owner of The Lofts as well as many other lodgings here in Canterlot. I am glad I can finally meet you face-to-face, Miss Scratch,” Lofty said with complete neutrality while she poured over her own files. “What can I do for you this morning?”

“I wanted to talk about taking over the lease for apartment 103.”

Lofty produced another folder bearing the apartment’s name from a desk drawer. She feathered through it until finding a tab labeled “103” and pulled out a packet of earmarked pages. “That will be difficult to do, as there is no lease for 103.” Without breaking her focus on the folder, she slid the file over to Vinyl with her wing, removing her feathers, unveiling a red “Terminated” stamped across the top.

Vinyl blanched. “What? Terminated? But I never terminated anything!”

“You are correct. According to my records, CSGU was renting it out, but the school expressed a lack of interest in renewing the lease and gave us proper notice that they were canceling it.” The pegasus pointed her free hoof at Vinyl, briefly glancing at the mare before returning to her more important folder. “The current tenant, i.e. you, will be evicted one week from yesterday. Did you need help securing movers or maybe finding a storage facility?”

“Wait a minute! I don’t want to move. I even brought over the stuff Land Sakes said I needed to—”

“Let me stop you right there,” Lofty chimed in, finally deigning to hold eye contact with Vinyl for more than a few seconds. “It’s been almost two weeks since the school made their announcement and started the process of terminating the lease. We finalized it two days ago. Why am I just now hearing about this?”

Vinyl rubbed her foreleg, trying to find the best way to tell her that up until yesterday, she couldn’t afford rent. “She told me I’d need to show some more stable income than I had shown her previously, so I found a new job. It just, you know, took a little bit longer than I wanted to get everything together.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Miss Scratch, but the time for such talks has long since passed. There is no lease for you to take over.”

“But you can’t just kick me out without warning. I have my rights!” Not that she knew that for certain, but the line had worked before when she’d been arrested by the guard.

Loftys’ aloofness evaporated immediately and she slammed a firm hoof down on the table. Her narrowed gaze pierced Vinyl’s eyes, but the DJ stood her ground. “Do not make such accusations so lightly, Miss Scratch. Number one, I am not kicking you out without warning. You have your seven days warning right there in your hooves, which is more than generous considering you have no rights to the unit you’re inhabiting. If you look through the lease, your name only appears under ‘Approved Occupants’ and not the ‘Lessee,' which leads to number two.

"You never rented that apartment in the first place. For all intents and purposes, the school lived in 103 and had a student guest maintain the apartment for them. I am fully within my rights to go to court and start the eviction process at any time. I could easily have you dragged out of my property. By force if necessary.”

Vinyl had no way to know if Lofty was exaggerating, but the sheer confidence in her tone made the DJ question protesting the claim any further. Vinyl cursed herself for not bringing her shades. They wouldn’t have done much to hide the slump in her shoulders, but at least she’d be able to fake eye contact better.

“Okay, fine. Then what about signing a new lease?” Vinyl huffed bitterly.

Lofty returned to her neutral position as she lifted yet another folder for Vinyl to see. “If you were serious about that, I would already have your rental application right here with all of your updated information.”

“I’ve lived here for three years. Shouldn’t that be enough of an ‘application’ for you?”

“Again, no, you haven’t. At least, not without the school’s involvement. I’ll go ahead and take your evasiveness for an answer. I will need a new rental application from you. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. You’ll need to fill out a few forms, have a background check, pay an application fee, provide proof that you can afford the apartment, and give us a personal reference.”

“Okay, fine!” Vinyl returned the favor by slamming the table with a thick folder of her own. “I got everything I need right here and I’m sure Land Sakes will vouch for me, so let’s get this over with.”

Unimpressed with the display, the prim mare’s lips drew into a thin line as she gathered Vinyl’s messy stack of papers from the desk. “I’ll be the judge of that. And mind your manners, Miss Scratch. It does not reflect well on potential tenants to lack professionalism.”

Knowing she couldn’t trust her flaring temper, Vinyl acquiesced to the suggestion with a simple nod. She tried to wipe away her darker thoughts of the unbearable mare across the desk. Vinyl was not about to doom herself in case this pony was another mind reader like Princess Luna or Fancy Pants.

“I’m glad we understand each other. I will look over this later, but you should know that getting a background check during the holidays will be next to impossible before next week. Plus, even if I accept your application, you’ll be placed at the back of the tenant waiting list. In the meantime, I suggest finding somewhere to store your things until we have a vacant unit. I know a few units nearby, or you could always try to pawn what you have.”

Vinyl bit down hard on her tongue to stop it from launching into a tirade. She calmed herself for a moment until she was sure she wouldn’t yell at the top of her lungs. “But the whole point is so I don’t have to leave. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just let me stay here while you checked everything anyway?”

“You think you’re the only pony interested in living near the heart of Canterlot?” She waved the folder that had kept her attention since entering the office. “This is filled with potential tenants that have been waiting patiently for one of my units to open up in this price range. Since you are not going through the proper channels, you will be placed behind them. I am not in the habit of rewarding lateness, Miss Scratch.”

Vinyl took a patient breath and forced herself to stop grinding her teeth. “Please. I spent the last two weeks getting all of that together as fast as possible. Could you at least look at it now before you make up your mind?”

“Fine. ‘Tis the season for warm harmony, right? Let’s consider this the beginning of your application.” Lofty collected Vinyl’s folder and quickly shuffled through the first set of pages. She arched her brow at the first entry. “You're working at a bakery? I’m surprised they would even hire a DJ. You honestly think working part-time in a little bakery like that is going to cover the cost of living in my building?”

“No, not all of it. You haven’t even looked at my DJing stuff yet.”

“You mean your contract work on the Drive? I assure you, that will not be enough to cover the shortfall you have here.”

“How can you be sure? Do you even know how much I make at Cantrips?”

“Very well. I’ll play along.” The pegasus turned to the next section with messier papers and began searching through the DJ’s revenue sources. “I believe the last time I spoke to Discotheque, he was keeping all of his performers around the same rate at his places on the Drive.”

“Y-you know my boss?” Vinyl felt a twinge of fear creep up her spine. The Lofts weren’t exactly the most luxurious lodgings in Equestria, so Vinyl hoped that Lofty Heights was just a name that she didn’t live up to.

“He’s technically your boss’ boss, but yes. And Hoity Toity, Photo Finish, Limelight, really anypony that would be interested in your services on the Drive or most anywhere else in Canterlot. I own many of the buildings they call home, along with several of the best hotels in the city. While we’ve never met like this, I've known about you for a while. I’ve simply never had much reason to pay much attention to you before now, DJ Pon-3. ”

Vinyl bit back a curse as a new wave of panic swept over her and groaned into her hooves as the last shred of her patience was burnt away. “Oh, come on! Are you all still upset about the stupid festival? It was two weeks ago. Don’t you have better things to do?”

A disappointed sigh escaped Lofty Heights as she dug deeper into Vinyl’s work record. “Your Screech might’ve ruined my evening, but that is neither here nor there. The better thing I have to do is protect my investments, which means this property. Even barring the stunt you pulled at the Festival of Flakes, you have a rather long record of run-ins with the law. Mostly for disturbing the peace, illegal assembly, and trespassing on private property. Am I wrong, Miss Scratch?”

Vinyl didn’t respond, which was more than enough for Lofty. To Vinyl’s dismay, the pegasus began separating out Vinyl’s private contracts into two piles like she was dealing cards. “So, I need to do my due diligence and ensure every bit that I collect from you in rent is earned legally,” she remarked as she set a page to her right, “and not illicitly,” she added, setting a page to her left.

Vinyl crossed her hooves and looked away from the sorted piles. “Looks like you already have my background check then, huh?”

“Due diligence, Miss Scratch. As I said, I wasn’t paying attention before.” Lofty snapped Vinyl’s folder shut with her wing and held it up. “Now, think carefully before answering: if I keep going through your little folder here, can you promise me that every bit you’re claiming as income was earned from a reputable and legitimate source?”

Vinyl put on her best poker face and pushed both stacks towards Lofty Heights’ side of the table, going all in. “Every bit in there was earned by DJing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, it wasn’t, but that’s still the wrong answer, Miss Scratch,” Lofty rebuked sternly, calling Vinyl’s gambit with a firm scowl. She callously tossed the rest of the folder over her shoulder into the garbage can against the back wall.

“Hey! You can’t just—” With a beat of her wings, Lofty leapt out of her chair towards the filing cabinets and yanked a drawer loudly in one fluid motion, cutting Vinyl off before she could finish her sentence. The pegasus sifted through papers until finding her mark and slapped a diagram of Vinyl’s apartment down in front of the unicorn’s face.

“See this?” Lofty pointed at a corner of the floor plan. At the tip of her hoof was a small red seal bearing the image of the royal sisters. The two alicorns swirled around a shield emblazoned with a flame and fire ax. “This is the Canterlot Fire Brigade's Seal of Safety. Every building needs to be authorized before you are allowed to do anything in them. And I do mean anything.”

Lofty swept her wing across the table, spreading the documents she had stacked to her left across the table. Wrapping her other wing around Vinyl, she forced the DJ’s attention to the papers in front of them as the pegasus began pointing to performance contract after performance contract.

“No address listed on this one. Nothing on this one either. And this? Unless somepony built a new road in secret, this address doesn’t exist in Canterlot. Finally, I might’ve missed 2391 Mountainview Lane, but I know that condemned building very well. I will be remodeling it into a hotel and spa next year. Need I go on, Vinyl?”

Vinyl felt a sharp spike drill into the pit of her stomach. She knew bringing her sketchier contracts was risky, but she needed to show a regular freelancing income. Most of the underground nightclubs and pop ups paid under the table, but a few wanted their agreements in writing. Land Sakes would’ve looked at the amount paid for the night and accepted them at face value, but Lofty Heights had caught her red-hooved. In a word, she was screwed.

The pegasus released her wing grip on Vinyl and swept the rest of the papers into the garbage in one swift stroke. Without showing a hint of emotion, Lofty returned to her chair and resumed looking over the other applicants for Vinyl’s apartment.

After a moment, Vinyl risked speaking up. “So… what happens now?” she asked as she bit her lip.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? You failed your application with flying colors. Not acting fast enough after the announcement, not being professional during this meeting, not following proper directions for appealing a lease cancellation—a lease which wasn’t even yours in the first place—and demanding special treatment, lying to me during your application process—”

“I didn’t lie!” Vinyl interrupted with a shout. Her voice cracked with what little pride she could still muster. “I-I didn’t lie. I said I earned those bits, and I did. I played at each and every one of those venues and got paid to perform.”

“Semantics, Scratch. The moment you tried to pass off your illegal DJing as a legitimate income source was enough to know your freelancing record cannot be trusted. This means the only documented income I can accept without question now is your work at Pâte de Lune and Cantrips. You don’t earn enough money to afford living here in the first place, so I am well within my right to reject you as a potential tenant. In fact, any of the reasons I just listed alone would be enough to reject you outright. I must applaud you for going the extra mile and making my job that much easier.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Vinyl asked weakly.

“The correct answer was not wasting my time and what little pity I had left for your situation with this pointless meeting. I suggest you use the time you have remaining to pack up and straighten up that pigsty you call a room before I throw you out on the streets and charge you for cleaning.” Lofty swept up the rest of Vinyl’s useless records off the table with the same care that a broom has for a dirty floor. She deposited them into the trash with the rest of Vinyl’s useless folder. The pegasus took the bin in hoof, walked it to the door, and set it outside.

“Now, get out of my office.”

Vinyl didn't need to be asked twice. She was more than happy to rid herself of the snobby pegasus’ presence. The DJ focused solely on her hatred and clung to it like a life preserver. The moment she let go, she’d sink into despair like a lead weight. Looking down, there was probably no bottom, but if there was, the pressure would crush her first.


Hearth’s Warming Eve celebrations rang out across the mountaintop. While many attended the annual pageant, plenty of other festivities could be enjoyed around town. Usually, Fancy Pants enjoyed a nice, relaxing evening around the hearth of his study alone, but tonight he had decided to attend one of the many private parties thrown by the nobles of Canterlot.

He kept a healthy pace as he cantered through the cold streets bustling with holiday cheer. He tried keeping a lower profile, forgoing his normal fancy suit in lieu of a more fitting, casual, and itchy holiday sweater he’d received from Fleur. The brown and beige monstrosity along with a massive scarf was warm enough to keep the cold away and repulsive enough to keep other ponies from recognizing him.

“Maybe Fleur is onto something with this ‘uggo-flage’ concept,” he mused under his breath as he passed by unassuming ponies. They were too distracted by the eggnog and chocolate-themed, sequin sprinkled nightmare to see the Kingmaker underneath.

He turned the corner of a polished stone fence towards the mansion where he would be spending his evening. He pulled his scarf to his neck and smiled, transforming the awkward glares he had received upon walking onto the property into surprised stares. Several sets of eyes bulged as they darted between his handsome face and the garish seasonal sweater.

“Just getting into the spirit of things, everypony.”

Fancy stopped himself from snickering as he trotted into the home. Even the butler had been shocked into silence. He decided enough was enough and checked the sweater at the door, revealing his socially acceptable black turtleneck underneath. Finally, a wisp of magic drew his monocle from a hidden pocket to finalize his more casual appearance.

There was nothing too special about the mansion when compared to the rest of Canterlot. It was built on a smaller parcel of land, leading to a taller, compact, three-story box rather than a sprawling abode that most of the other nobles enjoyed. Such was the life of new money in Canterlot. Still, the foyer felt rather cozy with just the right amount of decorations to bring holiday warmth without going overboard.

Knowing he was rarely seen out and about on Hearth’s Warming unless he was with Princess Celestia, many onlookers gawked as he trotted leisurely through the lively halls towards the reception room. The sea of ponies parted, allowing him to present the hostess with a finely aged bottle of Griffonstone Brandy.

“A very happy Hearth’s Warming Eve to you, Upper Crust.”

“My, my! This is quite the surprise,” Upper Crust exclaimed for everypony to hear as she gladly took the rare bottle in her magic. She drew a breath through her nose to savor the renewed attention of her guests. “And what brings you here, Sir Fancy Pants, to my humble soirée?”

“I came to apologize and extend a peace offering to make up for my mistake.”

The banker blinked quizzically. “Mistake?”

“Why, yes. I must apologize for ruining that lovely dress you wore for the Festival of Flakes. I should’ve made it a point to see you sooner, but I let time get away from me.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. Fancy had tried and failed in pursuing other angles to smooth out the Vinyl situation. By the time he thought about visiting her personally, the damage had been done to the DJ’s reputation. Only the revelation of her likely devolving living situation had spurned him into more drastic action. This was far more on the nose than he liked, but he didn’t have time for chess.

Upper Crust’s eyes practically glowed at Fancy as an elated smile split her face. She laughed and pushed the apology aside with a dismissive hoof. “Think nothing of it, my good stallion. It is not your fault if the help can’t help themselves. As far as I am concerned, you were just as much of a victim as I was.”

Fancy shook his head. “I’m afraid I must disagree. Fleur was my responsibility that evening and I let her get carried away.”

“Ah, Fleur de Lis?” The unicorn’s smile strained slightly as her eyes wandered upwards in thought. “I suppose you could say it like that, though I am sure she has learned her lesson since then. She simply needs to be more exclusive with her circle of friends so such an event doesn’t happen again. I trust somepony like you will make an excellent guide for her moving forward.”

Fancy chortled at the mere notion. “Oh heavens no. I’m not sure if anypony could guide that firebrand of a mare, least of all me. Fleur’s always been quite the troublemaker. She told me exactly what happened, but from what I understand, she never apologized to you for causing the Screech in the first place.”

Upper Crust coughed slightly in irritation and set the brandy on the table next to her with the other hostess gifts. “She had nothing to apologize for. It was that minx of a mare she decided to bring with her that was the problem.”

“You mean Miss Vinyl Scratch?”

“Yes. That DJ friend of hers,” the mare groused as she looked away with narrowed eyes. “I’m surprised you bothered remembering her name. Though I suppose you might want to, given the unfortunate circumstances.”

“Of course. She is quite the talented musician. It’s a shame she doesn’t play the piano more often.”

Fancy saw the subtlest of twitches flick in the mare’s left eyelid. The other ponies were mumbling to themselves hearing the praise the Kingmaker was hefting onto the mare. There was a pause before flicking her eyes back to Fancy. “Yes, that surprised me as well. It’s a shame she wastes what talent she does possess on the Drive rather than making herself more useful.”

“I wouldn’t say that is a waste. Princess Luna was interested in seeing Dressage Drive, so I was asked to escort her myself. While we didn’t have the DJ Pon-3 experience, the Princess seemed to enjoy similar music of the Drive’s other performers.”

The mention of Luna on the drive brought more excitable chattering amongst the other party-goers. Neither he nor Luna had clarified the context of that shot somepony had snapped of them together in the middle of the Drive. He hadn’t planned on revealing the information, but Upper Crust was putting up far more resistance than he had anticipated. Under the mare’s uncaring, upturned exterior boiled a visceral, seething anger.

“Fancy Pants,” Upper Crust addressed calmly, “I understand your concern for Fleur. Really, I do. You obviously care for the lovely mare, seeing as you’ve taken her under your tutelage. I assume that’s why you two were there helping at that bakery on Mane Street yesterday. What was it called? Something in Prench?”

Pâte de Lune. And only partly correct. Fleur works that sale every year.”

“Ah yes, I might not remember the name, but I already know Fleur works there often. They have great deals around this time of year. I usually stop there to get some holiday pastries for my firm’s employees. What I meant was you and that rowdy DJ friend of hers working together. It was clear why you would be there to help Fleur and her mother since I didn’t see Gustav le Grande. I can only imagine your shock at the unfortunate run-in with Scratch.”

It was rare for Fancy to be caught at a disadvantage with a Canterlot noble. He had assumed nopony would’ve recognized the DJ. The surprised whispers hissing around them confirmed that fact. Fancy hadn’t even seen Upper Crust at de Lune yesterday. Heaven knows, he would’ve been the first too considering he’d stayed outside for almost the entire day. While Fancy pondered how she had come across such privileged information, Upper Crust assumed a gracious smile.

“Don’t worry about it, Sir Fancy Pants. Your accidental association with that ruffian was just that: an accident. Frankly, I’m surprised you’d be going so far for her after ruining the festival. Your apology, while unnecessary, is accepted. Be sure to extend my forgiveness to Fleur de Lis as well next time you see her. She seems like she could become a lovely lady if given the right model to follow.”

Realizing she was trying to end the conversation, Fancy rose a hoof to interject. “I’ll be sure to, Miss Upper Crust, but I—”

“I deeply apologize, but as the hostess of the evening, I really mustn’t keep the other guests waiting. Enjoy yourself tonight, Sir Fancy Pants.” The false excuse of saving face seemed enough to placate the crowd, earning a few confirming nods from the onlookers.

With that, Upper Crust moved back into her hostess duties to greet the other well-connected guests, ending the conversation quickly before he had a chance to reply. Fancy silently cursed himself for losing focus. She was craftier than he gave her credit for, granted she had the advantage as he was on the unpopular side of popular opinion. Still, he had given Éclair his word. He would do something to help Vinyl Scratch, and he wasn’t about to back down so easily.


Despite the evening’s self-imposed duties, Fancy allowed himself a moment to enjoy the holiday fun. It wasn’t often that he attended such things unless Princess Celestia dragged him out herself. Hearth’s Warming was a time meant to celebrate with friends and family. The friends he wanted to spend time with would be busy with families of their own, and spending time with his own family was… complicated.

The stallion shook the annoying thought away as he took another sip of eggnog. While he still preferred a harder drink for the night, Fancy had to admit the Crystal Imperial rum added the right amount of kick without overpowering the flavor.

Walking the halls of Upper Crust’s home, it didn’t take long for him to see how enamored Upper Crust had become with the recently returned empire. Imperial sculptures, framed crystalline fractals, and other assorted artworks were scattered around the home. He wasn’t sure if it looked good under normal circumstances, but the glistening, Frozen North themed halls worked wonderfully for the wintery evening. The only thing that clashed with the pure crystal motif was a framed magazine cover with Upper Crust and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza discussing a business deal over coffee.

“Taking in some of the trophies, Sir Fancy Pants?” Upper Crust asked as she approached from behind.

“You have quite the collection,” he remarked as he turned to greet Upper Crust again. “Undoubtedly awarded for a job well done.”

“Just proof of the first step towards a brighter future. These are all thanks to you and the others who believed in Horst Holdings. If you will pardon the pun, we caused quite the tectonic shift in the business world once our partners secured those lucrative contracts with the Crystal Empire,” she remarked loud enough for several other ponies across the room to hear.

Fancy stopped himself from rolling his eyes. She wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t exactly fond of the position she had put him in. Knowing how groundbreaking the opportunity was, he would've been a fool not to invest in the little venture proudly displayed on the magazine's cover. Upper Crust was the first Canterlot business pony on the train to the Frozen North after the Crystal Empire had reappeared, even before that Sombra fellow had been properly dealt with. Regal Cents had acted too little too late. No matter Fancy’s preference for the stallion, he was simply outmaneuvered.

“Still fishing for that headline, I see,” Fancy whispered back. “While I do appreciate the doors you’ve helped open between Equestria and the imperial city-state, I’m not fond of being so brazenly pitted against ponies that I respect. You would do well to remember that, Miss Upper Crust.”

Upper Crust laughed sharply to hide her nerves and rising ire. “Noted. In the same vein, I am not fond of being attacked by a surprise guest from the moment they trot through my front door, no matter who they are.” She snatched a mug of hard warm cider from a passing servant and motioned for a nearby door leading out the back. “Would you care to join me outside for some privacy, Fancy Pants?”

Despite the lack of decorum, Fancy Pants nodded affably and opened the door for Upper Crust. Even though he could hear the freezing mountain wind blowing strongly from the top of Canterhorn, the back patio was kept comfortably cool by a magical gemstone he wasn’t familiar with. Upper Crust walked over to the railing to admire the glow of Canterlot Castle and the sparkles of light from Cloudsdale on the horizon. Looking back at the stallion, she motioned for Fancy to join her.

“You have quite the collection of unique crystals, Upper Crust.”

“Like it? It’s a shear-shield shard from the Empire. The ones up north are much larger to protect the city from the snow. Little ones like this are a luxury I’m hoping to introduce to Equestria. They’re far better than what we have here.”

Fancy nodded. “Another prize from your victories then.”

“It’s funny, really. I did my best to distance myself from anything related to them, but here I am building my fortune off of a nation of crystal ponies. I suppose it’s only fitting that my life would come full-circle to such things. Before I met Jet Set, I was destined to rot on some nowhere rock farm with the rest of my family.”

Fancy had heard the rock farmer trope before, but rarely had somepony in Canterlot openly admitted to bearing ignoble origins. The Set family wasn’t particularly influential anymore with more modern ponies flocking to coffee than tea these days. However, the old holdouts of Teaset’s dynasty would still have something to say about marrying a commoner pony, especially one that didn’t change their name. Not that such things mattered as much anymore. Wealth was far more powerful than birthrights.

“Don’t look so surprised, Sir Fancy Pants. Where do you think the name ‘Crust’ comes from?”

“I guess that would explain your initial interest in the empire,” Fancy mused.

“I escaped Rockville years ago to make something more of my life than some starving geode cracker. Be it coincidence or providence, I managed to tap into the potential within the Crystal Empire before anypony else. I worked hard and have more than earned my place among the elite of Canterlot. Which brings me to a question I must ask again,” she started icily. “What brings you here tonight to my home? You’re not exactly known for your holiday cheer and I am not accustomed to needless badgering over trivialities.”

“A request from a friend.”

“Fleur de Lis?” Upper Crust guessed.

“Éclair de Lune,” Fancy Pants corrected.

“Ah, so the mother. And here I thought Fleur was the lone driving force behind it.” The hostess shrugged to herself and took another warming sip of cider. “So, what is it that they want from me that the illustrious Kingmaker can’t provide on his own?”

Fancy chuckled thinking of all the colorful things that the two would say to her given the opportunity. “I think I’ll spare you the details and speak my piece instead. Simply put, I would ask you to correct the record and place the fault of the Screech on Fleur de Lis instead of Vinyl Scratch.”

Upper Crust bristled at the notion. “Why in Equestria would you want me to do that?”

“You went overboard with your desire for attention. I’ll admit that I didn’t want to give you the quote you need to bury Regal Cents, but there was no reason to involve Miss Scratch.” Upper Crust leveled a sidelong glare at Fancy for being called out so bluntly. “You’re making her life unnecessarily difficult in a bid to stay relevant long enough to bury your competition. Miss Scratch is needlessly suffering because of it.”

“And you think blaming Fleur for that DJ’s screw-up will fix everything?”

“No, but telling the truth would be a start. Fleur already admitted it was her fault at the festival. I assumed the only reason you shifted the blame from Fleur de Lis to Miss Scratch was to not upset me.”

“If I recall, you weren’t exactly there when it happened either. What makes you think that Fleur de Lis isn’t lying simply to cover for her friend?”

“Even if it wasn’t true, Fleur de Lis is more capable at weathering the storm than Miss Scratch is.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Upper Crust dropped any pretense of civility, letting the fire burning behind her eyes take over as she turned to give Fancy Pants her undivided attention.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I meant what I said about Fleur’s poor choice in friends, Fancy. That DJ is nothing but trouble, and any trouble she is in is rightly deserved. What I find far more concerning is this meddling of yours. Don’t think that I’m unaware of your attempts at damage control.”

Fancy’s mouth drew into a thin line. “Only damage that you’re causing.”

The mare scoffed. “Honestly, I’m quite shocked to see you taking the side of a DJ of all ponies! Musicians are a dime a dozen in Canterlot, and there are far better ones than her. A glorified gramophone is hardly worth your time.”

“I wouldn’t say that at all. She’s quite the remarkable mare if I do say so myself. A truly talented artist brimming with untapped potential.”

“R-remarkable? That brutish loudmouth? What possible potential can you see in her outside of causing absolute chaos?” Upper Crust flared up in anger, nearly crushing her glass in her magic. Fancy stepped back slightly from the enraged mare. She quickly coughed into her foreleg and took a moment to reign in her temper. “No. Fleur simply has you wrapped around her little hoof and blinded you to the truth. That DJ is worthless.”

Fancy took a swig of his eggnog before risking anything else to set his hostess off again.

“I know Vinyl Scratch. I had the misfortune of getting to know her very well when she first showed up.” There was a glint of fragility in the mare’s eyes for a moment before she blinked it away and turned towards the moon. “I was willing to leave well enough alone before, but after seeing what she was capable of at the Festival of Flakes, she has crossed the line. So I’ve decided that she needs to learn a lesson about how power works here in Canterlot.”

“Perhaps ‘power abuse’ would be more fitting a term,” Fancy rebutted in disappointment. “Do you even realize what you have done? Thanks to your petty smear campaign, you’ve made it nigh impossible for her to find work to support herself while continuing her studies.”

Upper Crust tapped her hoof on the railing and then smirked knowingly in satisfaction. “I’m guessing she’s already refused your generosity if you’re coming to me about this. She bears nothing but animosity towards our well-earned success, you know.”

Fancy was at a loss for words. Once again, she was right on the mark. Fleur’s little joke had sparked a fierce reaction from Vinyl. He’d never seen anypony so completely against the mere notion of assistance. The DJ wanted to be her own mare, Fancy could respect that. However, the adamancy she had to be independent seemed more out of self-preservation than outright hostility.

“I thought so. That delusional pride of hers.” The banker ruefully shook her head and drank the rest of her cider in one gulp, not even flinching at the burning of the spice or alcohol. With impassioned resolve, she scowled at her empty glass before sneering at Fancy. “If this is what it takes to break that wild mare, then I’ll gladly snap her like a twig.”

Fancy took a step back. “What could possibly be so valuable to you that you would go so far?”

Upper Crust wiped the vitriol from her face and assumed a far more dignified and haughty stance in front of Fancy Pants. It was the same aloofness she showed to anypony she treated like a stranger.

“Unlike Regal Cents, I won’t needlessly leak information to the competition that could come back to bite me. All you need to know is that the DJ is truly none of your concern, Sir Fancy Pants. You are in the minority this time. We all saw what happened. We all know who was the root cause of it all, Fleur’s involvement be damned. I finally have the opportunity to teach that urchin some manners, so I’d appreciate it if you would kindly leave well enough alone.”

Fancy wanted nothing more than for this problem to go away as well. Part of him wished he hadn’t gotten to know the mare better while trying to salvage her reputation. He might’ve even agreed with Upper Crust’s interpretation of events. It would be so much easier to simply sweep it all under the rug rather than deal with Vinyl given her poor attitude.

But he couldn’t do that. Not to Vinyl Scratch. The DJ was a very abrasive mare, but abrasive didn’t mean bad. In what little time he had spent with her, he had found far more than just a foul-mouthed performer. If she really wasn’t a good pony, Fleur would’ve left her in the dust along with the rest of her fake friends a long time ago. Éclair wouldn’t have begged him to help her.

As for himself, Fancy Pants could see something deeper within the young mare. While DJ Pon-3’s music was a decade or two removed from what he could get into, Vinyl Scratch could play the piano as beautifully as Octavia Melody could play her cello. She was stupid enough to destroy her sleep schedule most nights on the Drive, but gifted enough to earn highly competitive funding for an innovative project he barely understood. There was that rowdy disc jockey partying all night at Cantrips and that hard working pony biting her tongue all day at Pâte de Lune.

Anypony willing to look long enough knew Vinyl Scratch was somepony special. He felt his cutie mark tug at the back of his mind as a thought occurred to him. She simply needed the chance to weather the storm so she could shine all the more afterward.

“I suppose you’re right. I am in the minority on this one,” Fancy admitted with a smile. “Which means I should find a way to capitalize on the opportunity myself.”

Upper Crust turned her nose up to the stallion and opened the back door for her uninvited and unwelcome guest. “Then I wish you luck, Fancy Pants. I will be waiting here to see when your foolish gamble explodes in your face.”

“Have a wonderful rest of your Hearth’s Warming Eve, Miss Upper Crust.”

“Despite your best efforts, I intend to.”


Vinyl nibbled on a carrot as she absentmindedly shot another bolt of magic at her apartment floor. It exploded into an energy wave that ran up the walls and vanished into the ceiling, seeping into the various autonomously running spells along the way. While Proper Primrose’s Enchanted Guide to Housekeeping certainly helped speed up her cleaning efforts, the unicorn felt trapped in a fairy tale with all of the brooms, dusters, and brushes dancing around her apartment.

Even with everything mostly taking care of itself, she had lost focus more than once while packing. Every so often, her scattered thoughts would overcome her senses for a few moments, forcing her to constantly shake them out of her head. She’d find herself folding the same clothes several times over or casting the wrong spell on them entirely. Proper’s Pipe Cleaning had sent one of her scarves to an early retirement, though it had been very effective in clearing out the shower drain of her hair. Vinyl would have to burn the poor thing later.

Luckily, there were plenty of boxes around town for her sudden move. Being the last shopping day of the season, plenty of ponies were more than willing to part with their cardboard for free so they could get back to their last-minute customers. It was the only silver lining she could find in all of this. After her meeting with Lofty Heights, the pegasus had closed the main office for the rest of the year. Vinyl’s fate was sealed.

Another box was packed and she pushed it away from the table towards the door to start on the next. It was only starting to dawn on her how really screwed she was. Where was she supposed to put all of her stuff? Her cursory search for an affordable storage unit had revealed every one of them in Canterlot had closed for the holidays. None of them would be open from Hearth’s Warming all the way through New Year’s. Everything was lining up just right to maximize Vinyl’s misery.

Her anger had long been burnt through and she was now coasting on anxiety. She desperately wanted to go to sleep, but every time she shut her eyes, another worry would shake her awake. At some point, the DJ knew she’d simply pass out. She hoped it’d be near her bed. Vinyl stumbled to her hooves and decided to trudge in that direction to better her odds of hitting her mark.

Vinyl kept her eyes on her steps as she walked across the mostly clean floor. It was weird being able to see it again. She’d left it a complete mess for so long, she’d forgotten what the floorboards looked like. There was a lingering relief seeing it so clean again. Maybe there was something to keeping a tidy home. Little late for that now considering she was about to lack one. A few errant drops of water fell to the floor in front of her.

“The stupid, leaky roof,” Vinyl cursed under her breath, despite being on the bottom floor of a five story building. She was about to fall face first onto her pillow when there was a knock at the door. She wiped her face with her foreleg and threw on her sunglasses despite it being 8:48 at night in winter.

“Please don’t be Fleur. Please don’t be Fleur…”

Opening the door, her heart dropped as she was greeted by the ugliest chocolate brown and beige sweater she’d ever seen. At first she thought it was Fleur wearing some uggo-flage, but the thicker stallion’s build told a different story. Before her exhaustion-addled brain could catch up, a familiar classy voice cut through the winter chill.

“Ah, good. The fourth door was the charm. Good—err rather Happy Hearth’s Warming, Miss Scratch.”

Fancy Pants? Why was Fancy Pants here? Better yet, how was he here?

“Before you slam the door in my face, Miss Scratch, I have a job offer for you,” Fancy Pants said quickly. He didn’t try to force his way in, rather he stood at a comfortable distance, giving Vinyl space.

Horseapples. This was a trap, a trick of some sort. There was no way he’d show up now. It couldn’t be a coincidence. It was far too convenient.

He waited a moment, seeing how she hadn’t left him on the porch, he kept going with his pitch. “This involves something that Steeplechase and the ESPA have been trying to get me to do for years that I think you’d be perfect to help me with given your…” the stallion trailed as his wandering eyes caught the boxes she had stacked next to the door. His eyes softened at Vinyl. “Given your expertise with crystal storage.”

That was rich. Of course he’d wait until he was at her lowest to show up on her doorstep. Vinyl didn’t know his game, and she didn’t want to know. She needed to shut the door.

“I know it’s none of my business, and I’m probably the last pony you want to see right now, but after you asked Éclair for that proof of income, it wasn’t hard for me to put two and two together. I suppose it wasn’t enough money to stop your eviction.”

Just shut the door.

“I promise that I haven’t told anypony about your current situation. I don’t intend to either regardless of your answer. All I ask is that you consider an offer.”

Slam the door in his pompous, know-it-all face.

“Please, Miss Scratch. Vinyl. I know you won’t let me help you, so let me hire you instead. This is a legitimate offer befitting somepony of your unique talents. There is nopony better suited for it than you.”

“Why?” Vinyl finally croaked behind a hitched breath.

“If I’m being honest, I didn’t want anypony else getting into those old records, considering my… unique family situation. But since you know about my father—” Fancy stopped as the DJ walked through the doorway. She lifted her sunglasses, revealing all of the panic and anxiety brimming in her exhausted, bloodshot eyes.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Fancy smiled kindly and placed a supportive hoof on her shoulder

“I already told you once before, Vinyl. You’re worth it.”

Author's Note:

If you find a simple mistake in the GSP (Grammar, Spelling, or Punctuation), please let me know through a private message rather than leaving it in the comment section. Thank you for reading!

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