The Dancer

by Yip

IV - Shooting for the Stars

A deafening applause drowned out a mare's deep panting onstage, expanding and depressing her lemon-yellow chest with each breath she took. At every movement of her torso, a slight rustle shook her long, straight brown mane.

The theatre looked no different as it always had to her—a flawless room with walls of polished hardwood and a ceiling of ornately-hewn stone. Her exhausted face peered out to the roaring crowd, studying their reactions curiously as they gushed out their praise. The spotlight's shine focused on her fizzled out and the velvet curtain ahead of her began to close, beckoning her backstage.

Taking no more notice of the waning cheers, the mare turned and left the auditorium. She took in a deep breath, then let out a sigh and pushed open the back door—her exhaustion quickly turned into excitation at the sight of the figure inside. He was a moderately-built brown earth stallion with a short yellow mane, a delicate smile etched on his face.

‘Allegrezza!’ the stallion exclaimed, holding out his hoof shaking with excitement. His glossy eyes, in the bright light of the backstage room, reflected Allegrezza's figure—reminding her that he came to her not as a dream as she had been accustomed to, but as the one she truly loved. The initial surprise faded, and she flung herself into his hooves, ending in a warm embrace.

‘Oh Alto, it's been so long!’ A gasp escaped Allegrezza's mouth as the embrace loosened. ‘But why are you here? Were you not supposed to be dancing in Manehattan on this lovely soirée?’

Alto merely chuckled in response. ‘I have been apart from you for far too long; no manager can keep me from seeing your beautiful face, my love!’

‘Alto, it pains me to see this theatre in other ponies’ hooves after they took it away from us...’ Allegrezza let out a deep sigh. 'Let's leave all of this behind! I'm sick of dancing for worthless coin!'

‘All in good time, my sweet. I need only a week’s worth of funds for us to start our free lives together.’ Alto paused for a moment, inspecting the decorated room they resided in. A thick red rug beneath them gave the pair warmth around their hooves, and the walls of the ornately-hewn room were fitted with a similar material.

‘But the waiting, Alto—’

‘Like another lifetime apart, I know. But we must make this sacrifice to reach our happiness. But for now,’ Alto clapped his front hooves together, ending the embrace, ‘we dance for ourselves!’

‘But what about your unexpected absence tonight? What if we get suspended?’

‘My dear, even the best in the business are sometimes misunderstood—they are only punished with silly talking-tos. They cannot afford to kick us out! Now, no more talk; let us dance!’

~|D|~

Octavia put down her cello into its velvet-lined case and sighed—another concert, another night of disappointment. The Ponyville Music Hall’s back room wasn’t devoid of life, but the feeling was nearly there—especially for Octavia.

‘Hey,’ Vivace started, placing her own instrument in a similar case to Octavia’s. ‘You doing alright, Octy?

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ Octavia replied, eyeing Vivace’s case with sudden interest. ‘New case? I thought yours was yellow.’

Vivace smiled as she closed her case. ‘Well, I thought since we’re going to be such big superstars that we should act the part. Black is a lot more professional than yellow, you know!’

Octavia chuckled. ‘Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Hey, have you seen St—’

‘Ponyville Players,’ a voice bellowed—Staccato's, Octavia observed. ‘I would like to welcome you to someone about whom I’ve heard a great many things: say hello to Star Gazer, one of the most famous music managers on the east side of Equestria!’

In walked a white-faced stallion—Octavia could not see anything past his visage, as his extravagant garb covered his entire body and the top of his head. At the very least, his head was covered with your everyday plain black top hat; the rest of the outfit—looking more like a thin blanket secured around his neck and hanging below his invisible hooves—was another matter entirely. It was a light-blue fixture with clashing colours of black and crimson striping down its length. A few gems were also dotted here and there, coloured yellow, green or purple—sometimes a combination of the three. His stance was not haughty, but it was not humble and withdrawing either; he had an air of flamboyance and professionalism rolled into one package.

Even how he spoke was bizarre: boisterous and outgoing, but a soft, eastern-like accent was still salvageable. ‘And a good day to you too, my good Staccato! A wonderful looking group you have here,' he added, inspecting each member with widened eyes.

'I trust you enjoyed the performance, mister Gazer?' Staccato inquired, a twinkle sparkling in his eyes.

'Goodness, I was expecting a bit of an introduction first—I'm particularly interested in hearing about your ravishing cellist over there.' Gazer gave Octavia a suggestive wink, to which a blush quickly filled her cheeks. ‘I’ve heard quite a few things about you, my dear. While your technical prowess is undoubtable, I’ve also caught word about an... edge, so to speak, that you possess. Normally, the lack of such a creative piece would prompt me to dismiss the rumours and be on my way, but I figured a gorgeous mare such as yourself would be able to explain what went wrong properly.’

‘I—’ Octavia paused for a moment. ‘Well, others claimed that I did have a creative edge... I assure you, it does exist. What happened tonight won’t happen again.’

‘Very well,’ Gazer said, offering Octavia a polite smile. ‘Then we have no more to discuss. Show me what you’ve got, Ponyville Players, and don’t hold back—and while you have the hooves to run several miles, I want to see you win the hundred-yard dash.’

Staccato raised a hoof in protest. ‘Mister Gazer, please—’

‘No need, no need.’ Star Gazer smiled. ‘I’m sure that you’re all prepared for this, anyway. You did just perform.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘There will be time for chatter later, my friend. Even the absolute best in the business slip up and have an off night every now and again, and I’m sure that with a different mindset, you’ll have a much more energetic performance.’

Gazer pranced out of the room, leaving a group of musicians scratching their heads and looking to each other, unsure of what to do next.

‘So...’ Octavia said, ‘...should we go play for him, Staccato?’

‘He’s certainly here as the talent seeker, so there is no question whether we should or shouldn’t perform.’ Staccato sighed. ‘It’s very unfortunate that we had to get a strange one, though. His racing metaphor made no sense, and I’m not sure if we can perform as he—’

Vivace rushed over to Staccato and pressed a hoof on his mouth. ‘Not so fast, Staccy!’ she said, ignoring the protests attempting to break free from the pianist’s mouth. ‘You want this... we all want this. This is the last step we need to take, don’t you see?’

The other musicians nodded their heads. Clef—or Treble—said: ‘She’s right, Staccato. Just look at Vivace: she’s all sorts of crazy, and she’s still in the group!’

Vivace lowered her hoof, and Staccato looked to every Ponyville Player in turn. Swallowing hard, he walked over to the room’s exit. ‘Alright, folks. Just like we rehearsed, eh? I mean, we haven’t actually performed this piece even once so far, but that doesn’t mean anything will go wrong, right?’

No one answered. With sweat running down their backs and fake smiles etched on their faces, they picked up their respective instruments and tools and proceeded on-stage, all pleading for their big break.

This was their one chance at crafting their cadence—but only for Ponyville. The cadence would only make way for a new section in the Ponyville Players’ grand piece.

~|D|~

Trembling hooves clutched instruments on-stage as Star Gazer, seated front row in Ponyville Music Hall, watched. The Players looked to each other, waiting for a signal to start—Staccato nodded his head. Octavia lowered her bow onto her cello, closed her eyes, and then—

‘Hold on, my good mares and stallions!’ Gazer called out, rising from his seat. ‘Hold it, please. This isn’t right, no... not right at all. It just isn’t proper to not have an audience, now is it?’

The musicians stood with their instruments, perplexed, but still ready to play. ‘I’m sorry?’ Staccato replied. ‘I thought you wanted us to play—’

‘Yes, I most certainly did. You must surely see, though, that this setting is terribly inadequate. A small theatre, a lack of an audience: terrible things that hinder the overall flair of a musical piece. I’m sure you agree, my good Staccato?’

Most of the players on stage looked to each other, shrugging; Staccato, on the other hand, brightened up. His eyes widened and he nearly flew right out of his piano bench and towards the front of the stage.

‘Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, mister Gazer?’ Staccato asked in a somewhat fanboyish tone.

‘If you’re thinking about how run-down the decor is in this place, then yes. Atrocious, really—needs a full reinvention.’

‘Well, yes—I mean, no, that wasn’t what I was thinking about.’ Staccato cleared his throat. ‘...As you were saying, mister Gazer?’

Star Gazer was staring at the ceiling, scratching his chin. ‘Yes, this needs work—ah! I seem to have gotten off-track; I would like your group to come to Manehattan with me to try your luck with the crowd as an opening act. It won’t be for one of our bigger groups like the Lonely Hooves Club Band, but I trust you will still perform well all the same.’

The ponies on-stage stood, mystified, as Gazer awaited his response. Octavia took a double take—the circumstances surrounding something so exciting was highly unusual, and she wasn’t sure what to do.

‘Did I say something wrong?’ Gazer inquired, raising an eyebrow. ‘Wouldn’t you lot like a chance in Manehattan? It has a fantastic amphitheatre where I could truly take in your skills and judge your future for true.’

Staccato stumbled for words before eventually making several out: ‘We—why, yes! We would be immeasurably delighted to come with you!’

Gazer smiled, then made his way up the stairs leading to the stage. ‘Wonderful. We will be departing in two days’ time—that should give you ample time to prepare and for me to speak with my correspondent here. Don’t worry about saying goodbye to too many ponies, though; you might not even get to stay in Manehattan, should you fail to impress me!’

Vivace turned to face Octavia, and gulped. Words were not needed to express the importance of succeeding.

‘Right, then. Thank you, all of you, for meeting me on this fine night. I trust you will also bring some appropriate vestments for our little escapade; they add a certain... je ne sais quoi to the performance, if you will.’ Gazer turned and walked off-stage, his “robe” shimmering behind him with every stride. ‘In two days, my good ponies!’

The peculiar stallion proceeded out the front door with a short ‘ta-ta’.

‘...Gee,’ Octavia said, ‘some artists are a little too strange.’ Everyone else in the room nodded their heads, keeping their excitement—and confusion—bottled up. Octavia judged that it was better to leave the emotions until after they had succeeded.

~|D|~

‘Hey, you. You should clean your room—it’s kind of weird to see you around a mess.’

Octavia struggled to open her eyes. The short sleep the night before was taking its toll.

‘Yeah, I know you can hear me. Why didn’t you tell me, Taves?’

Vinyl’s voice was unmistakable, especially when she was irritated. Octavia opened her eyes and blinked—sure enough, she was staring her down from beside her bed, the lack of shades covering her eyes making her all the more intimidating.

‘Hrm... tell you what, Vinyl?’

‘Hey, you awake yet? You know what I’m talking about, Taves, and I only heard about it this morning. I have my sources.’

Oh. ‘Ah, right. Can I get up before you yell in my ear some more?’

Vinyl took a few steps back, then scratched her head. ‘Sorry. I was just a little shocked that you wouldn’t tell me about that sooner—you’re not the kind of mare who keeps many secrets.’

Octavia’s eyes widened; she knew what Vinyl was referring to, but her mind shifted to another secret, one she had struggled to face before. She shuddered.

‘You were asleep last night, Vinyl,’ Octavia replied, rising from her bed and rubbing her sore eyes. ‘I came home pretty late. Did you want me to wake you?’

‘Well, I suppose that makes sense.’ Octavia rolled her eyes as Vinyl spoke, and shifted out of bed. ‘I can’t believe you’re leaving, though. It’s going to be really lonely here all on my own.’

‘It’s just a test run to impress the talent seeker that arrived in town last night. There’s no guarantee that we’ll stay there for more than a couple days—of course, I wouldn’t mind moving there permanently.’ Octavia saw her reflection in Vinyl’s eyes. ‘W-Well, I’d be visiting fairly often. The train to Ponyville doesn’t take very long.’

Vinyl chuckled. ‘Talent seeker, eh? Pretty crazy that you attracted one here—say, this is your last day, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Every famous musician needs something to set them apart... visually, I mean. You’ve got the talent part down solid, as far as I’ve seen.’ Vinyl took a glance at the black cello case in the corner of the room. ‘Rarity’s Boutique might have something perfect for you, do you want to go take a look? It’d really spice up your look—not that you don’t look good already.’

Octavia blushed and scratched the back of her head. ‘That does sound nice, the talent seeker mentioned something like that. But why would you of all ponies suggest that?’

‘I dunno, maybe I’m just feeling weird today.’ Vinyl quickly turned and made her way out of the room, stopping at the door’s arch. ‘You coming or what?’

‘I’ll be there in a second,’ Octavia replied. Vinyl shrugged and left the room; a short while later, a door opened and shut. Tomorrow, she thought. I might not see that theatre for a long time... dancer—

Octavia blinked repeatedly. Her eyes caught a wide-open, empty blue suitcase she had brought out the night before; the eventual contents of the bag were scattered around the floor. I’ll get to them later, she judged. The cellist rushed to catch up with her friend.

~|D|~

‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were going to miss me, Vinyl.’

‘H—’ Vinyl blushed, and aimlessly looked to the sky. ‘No, I’m happy for you. The only reason I suggested shopping was for your sake; you wouldn’t catch me dead in a boutique even if you were leaving forever.’

Octavia smiled. ‘Uh-huh. I believe you.’

‘What have you got planned for tonight, Taves? You leave tomorrow, so you ought to have a rocking party planned, right?’

Octavia glanced to her right—a building, almost as wide as the Ponyville Music Hall and certainly much shorter, lay empty on the side of the street. On the front were several images of cider mugs plastered on tainted glass windows, reminding Octavia of a different time. A time long gone.

‘...A time long gone.’

‘What was that, Taves?’ Vinyl caught Octavia’s eyes as they glanced over. ‘Ah, the Applespice Café. Great choice, good times. We’ll head over tonight once you’re done packing or whatever, eh?’

Octavia shook out of her trance. ‘Uh, er... the Applespice Cafe? We haven’t been there in ages.’

The duo walked across a short bridge overlooking Ponyville River, Applespice Café getting farther and farther away as they approached Carousel Boutique at their front. ‘I’m sure the bartender remembers you. He said so himself: “I remember all of my regulars, whether it’s been ten days or ten years since I saw them last”. Surely you wouldn’t mind even a quick drink or two?’

‘Vinyl—’

‘Why, hello!’ a voice trilled, interrupting a sighing Octavia. The door of the boutique had swung open, leaving Vinyl and Octavia facing a rather pleased-looking Rarity. ‘Were you coming for an appointment?’

‘An... appointment?’ Octavia asked hesitantly. ‘I’ve never gone dress shopping before; I have no idea how it works.’

‘Oh, my dear—’ Rarity sniffed and sharply turned her head, facing indoors ‘—Sweetie, that better not be you making dinner! You know how... ah, I beg my pardon, you two. Sisters are quite a hassle, aren’t they?’

Octavia nodded her head, unsure of how to answer.

‘Oh, you’re the cellist for the Ponyville Players, aren’t you?’ Rarity smiled brightly, and her eyes twinkled. ‘Goodness, I loved that performance a week or two ago—it really was quite the show!’

‘Yes, that’s me. Would you mind if I took a look at your dresses? I need one by tomorrow morning, and my friend here figured you’d have some in stock.’

‘Ah...’ Rarity blushed. ‘I’m terribly sorry, but not only would we need to take some measurements—need an appointment for that—got one bright and early in the morning, goodness me—but I’ve been excruciatingly busy as of late, what with preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration that’s only... a few days away! It doesn’t hurt that my baby sister is here messing around until my parents can find a place to stay.’

Octavia smiled sheepishly—She’s a chatty one.

‘I’m sorry for bothering you, miss...’

‘Rarity, darling.’

‘Miss Rarity, I apologize for taking up some of your busy schedule for this misunderstanding. I hope we’ll meet again; I’m heading up to Manehattan for an audition, so to speak.’

Vinyl nudged Octavia, and whispered: ‘Formal. Classy.’

‘You won’t be performing in Ponyville anymore?’ Rarity frowned. ‘A shame, you are all so very talented. The best of luck to you all!’

Octavia and Vinyl both nodded their head as Rarity hastily shut the door behind her. ‘She’s a busy one, that mare,’ Octavia noted.

‘She’s busy with the nine-hundred-and-ninety-ninth Summer Sun Celebration—I’d be pretty rushed if I were her. It’d be pretty rad to work on ponies’ dresses for that, but rushed nonetheless. Sucks that you didn’t get your dress, though—I’d probably bring some bits along with you to Manehattan. They’ve probably got lots of places there to buy dresses and stuff.’’

The duo made their way back across the bridge, both of them taking another glance at Applespice Café.

‘I think I’ll go check with the bartender to see if there are any events going on at the bar tonight,’ Vinyl said. ‘You go ahead and pack your stuff, I have some... other matters to attend to after tonight.

‘Very well. I’ll see you tonight, Vinyl.’

‘Oh, you’ll see me tonight. Both of us are going to raise our mugs to you, and it’ll be the last night before you become a superstar.’ Vinyl smiled. ‘See you then, Octavia.’

Octavia waved to Vinyl as she entered the bar. I’m really going through with this, she thought. I might not see her for a long time.

She won’t dance ever again...

Comments

[Dartrunner]

My reading material for the night. Very well done. Seeing this story update always makes me happy.

Octavia put down her cello into its velvet-lined case

I would say the "down" is not needed, makes I kind of weird. And change "into" to "in."

[TheStratovarian]

Finally having cleared up enough crud to get to good stuff, and its a fun end, if certainly troubling last line. Very nicely done.

[Yip]

3724180 Excuse me? I'm all for opinions, but that is an incredibly strange comment to make. Please cite the sentences and I'll concede this.