• Published 30th Jan 2013
  • 3,679 Views, 96 Comments

Top Of The Charts - GeodesicDragon

When DJ Anon is signed to an Equestrian record label, he reckons that he's finally hit the big time. Unfortunately, Fate has other ideas.

  • ...

The Big Break


The Big Break

Day 246 in Equestria.

You look out over the sea of ponies in front of you, all of them dancing like they were on fire. The music is thumping in your ears and you have a huge grin on your face. You throw up the horns, driving everypony into a frenzy. They begin chanting your name, stomping their hooves into the floor in raucous applause.

Vinyl comes up beside you, a grin similar in size to yours on her muzzle. She looks out at the customers enjoying themselves as you poke her the side with a finger. She looks around at you.

"I gotta hand it to ya Vinyl," you say, "you were right about this music of mine. I didn't know they'd eat it up."

You were referring to when she had found your mobile in your pocket a few months ago. After explaining to her what it was and how it was supposed to work (given the fact you couldn't exactly get a signal in Equestria), you opened up the MP3 player and showed her some of the dance music from Earth.

She had loved everything she heard, and had suggested that instead of her teaching you how to be a proper DJ like she was, you simply continued your old tradition of 'changing CDs'. Or MP3s in this case. You were sceptical of the idea, but Vinyl had persuaded you. Your first 'set' was a few months ago, and since then your popularity has skyrocketed. The fact that you've exhausted your supply of new tracks doesn't seem to phase the party-goers either. They are perfectly content to listen to the same stuff repeatedly.

Right now they are listening to some deadmau5. Vinyl nods her head in time to the beat as you tap your foot. The wave of euphoria is washing away everything in its path, and everypony welcomes it. The strong smell of sweat hangs in the air, indicating that the crowd is worked up. That, as far as you were concerned, was always a good thing. And Vinyl liked it too, mostly because sweaty dancers liked to spend a boatload of bits on drinks.

The music finally comes to an end, signalling with it the end of your set. The sea of ponies slows to a halt as the music fades. Some of them even look at you pleadingly, almost begging you to continue. You simply shake your head and grab the microphone.

"That's it from me tonight, everypony!" you say loudly, "I'll be back same time on Thursday night. In the meantime, I am leaving you in the capable hooves of Bass Drop. So continue to party hard, my fellow patrons of the night!"

They cheer wildly and you move over for your replacement, a rather portly stallion wearing a ridiculous pair of oversized sunglasses. Making your way to the bar you high-five everypony you meet and eventually take a seat next to Vinyl.

"Another awesome set Anon," she says as she passes you a cider, "you should be proud of yourself. Hell, even I'm proud of you."

"Oh wow," you reply sarcastically, "Vinyl Scratch is proud of me. My life is now complete and I can die a happy man."

You take a sip of your cider as Vinyl jabs you forcefully in the side with a forehoof, causing you to nearly choke with laughter. Thankfully you prevent the loss of any of the amber nectar and quickly recover, chugging it down as fast as you can.

"Slow down there Anon," Vinyl says, "because it looks like you've got a fan. Stallion by the door is giving you a look."

You peer over the top of your glass. Sure enough, you lock eyes with a sea-green unicorn stallion. A small smile curls up his lips and he starts approaching you. Under the pulsing lights of the club you can make out his cutie mark, a treble clef and a treble bass which combine into the shape of a heart.

The stallion reaches you and nudges Vinyl aside. She falls off her stool with a small yelp and the stallion takes her place. From her position on the floor you hear Vinyl growling. You help her to her hooves and raise an eyebrow at the mystery stallion, who sticks a forehoof out. You shake it tentatively and he starts speaking.

"The name's Tech Beat," he says proudly, "the biggest producer in all of Equestria. I've been watching you very closely, DJ Anon, and I have to admit that I'm impressed. You've got the potential to make the big leagues, and I want to help you get there."

"I'm not sure I understand what you're on about," you reply, "so could you possibly elaborate?"

"I said," Tech Beat groans, "that I'm a producer. I want to sign you to my label, Anon, and make you a very rich stall— man indeed."

You stand in silence for a moment.

Processing... one hundred percent complete. Anon, he's just offered you a job as a high-level DJ!

"Wow," you reply, "this is... unexpected. Sure it's my dream and all, but it seems a bit sudden."

Tech Beat sighs.

"Do you really want to spend the rest of your life playing your music in this place for a measly few hundred ponies every week?" he says, "Or would you rather take your music all over Equestria and wow crowds of thousands?"

You glance over at Vinyl. She did help you get to this point, so it's only fair that you ask for her opi— okay, she's grinning from ear to ear while rubbing her forehooves together in anticipation. That tells you all you need to know. She wants you to go ahead with this.

"All right," you say, "I'll take you up on your offer. When and where do I meet you so we can discuss a contract?"

"A contract?" Tech Beat puts a hoof to his chin, "Yes, I guess one is required. Very well, I'm currently staying at the Ponyville Express Inn on Saddle Avenue. Meet me in Room 258 tomorrow at ten. We can discuss the details then."

You nod and shake his hoof as he gets off the stool. Vinyl promptly reclaims her place as Tech Beat goes towards the door.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening Anon," he says, "and I hope that this meeting marks the start of a glorious career."

You grin and raise your glass to him. He grins back before trotting out of the club. As soon as he gets out of sight, Vinyl wraps her forehooves around your neck.

"This is bucking amazing dude!" she squeals, "You're gonna be huge, I just know it! Come on, we've gotta celebrate!"

"Slow down Vinyl," you pry her off you and set her back on her stool, "I haven't even negotiated the contract yet, let alone signed it. Let's just take this as it comes, okay?"

"Fine," Vinyl pouts, "but when you do sign it—"

"If I sign it." you interrupt, "Tech Beat and I might not agree on the details of my new job."

"When you sign it," Vinyl asserts, "you and I are gonna party like it's going out of fashion."

"Sure Vinyl," you reply, "whatever you say."


You glance at your watch, which reports the time to be a little ways past eleven. With a sigh, you reach once again for the newspaper lying on the table. Perhaps reading it for the hundredth time will alleviate the soul-crushing boredom.

You had arrived at the Ponyville Express Inn a few minutes before ten, only to be told that Tech Beat was out. The receptionist invited you to wait so you did, thinking that maybe he was away for his breakfast or something.

One hour later and you're still waiting. Either he's a big eater, or his watch is an hour slow. You're guessing the latter. You grumble to yourself as you read the paper. The front page article is about the Crystal Empire winning the right to host the Equestria Games. Everypony is pissing themselves with glee at the prospect.

"Ah yes," a voice says, "the Equestria Games. Play your cards right Anon, and you could be performing there."

You fold the paper over and glance over it to see Tech Beat smiling back at you. He glances at the clock and coughs sheepishly.

"Sorry," he said, "I just had some paperwork to send away at the post office. I swear, the mare who works there is a bit clumsy at times. I had to repeat myself several times before she finally realised where I was sending the papers to."

You know how he feels. After all, Derpy isn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. You put the paper down on the table and follow Tech Beat up to his room. The room contains a small bed, a dresser drawer, a desk and a medium-sized wardrobe.

At Tech Beat's invitation you take a seat — on the floor. Stupid pony-sized chairs. Tech Beat sits down opposite you and exhales.

"Okay then Anon," he says, "let's get you started on the road to wealth and power..."

Author's Note:

About damn time I updated this. Finding an OC was harder than I thought.

Speaking of OCs, Tech Beat belongs to listener and is used with permission.

'Bass Drop' was a name I came up with on the spot.