Gone Clubbing
Chapter 1
So It Begins
"Two styles both alike in dignity,
In fair Manehatt'n where we lay our scene.
From new found grudge break to mutiny,
Where civil sound makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their li-"
"Wait, hold on, enough of that flowery crap." A box of records flew out of a door and landed noisily onto a short cart just outside. "You know what people like? Loud, awesome, music." Vinyl Scratch stepped out of the closet and into the narrow hallway where her room mate stood.
"Woooow, not even going to listen to the rest of it? Come on, Vinyl, please. I've been working on this for months!" Lyra Heartstrings slouched against the wall and put on her best pleading look.
"Nope, sorry Lyra, I'm late for a gig. But hey, afterward, do you want to grab a few drinks? I'll give you my undivided attention and you can tell me all about it."
Lyra's shoulders drooped. "Ok, fine, but you have to promise."
Vinyl winked and traced an "x" on her chest. "I promise."
"I'll meet you after your set at when, eleven?"
"Yeah," Vinyl replied, "Eleven sounds about right." She looked at the clock on the wall. "Shit, gotta go. See ya later!"
"Ok, I'll see you then!" Lyra shouted after her as Vinyl shut the door.
The early Autumn air felt perfect on Vinyl's skin as she walked out the door. The sun was just beginning to set, enveloping everything in a warm glow, so she stopped briefly to admire the beauty of it all. The DJ inhaled deeply and let out a pleasured sigh before walking again. Within a few minutes she was at the door to the club and a large, muscular bouncer let her in.
The Stable was one of the more well known clubs in downtown Manehattan, and rightfully so. Everything from the stain-proof carpet to the bathrooms with speakers that played live music was perfectly designed with both club goers and DJs in mind. The main club room was a dark purple with subtle accent lights along the walls leading everyone's attention towards the DJ booth. The booth was fully equipped with turntables, CD players, and an electronic controller and to add to that, the speakers were built into the frame so that the monitors both facing the crowd and the DJ didn't have to be set up or face the risk of toppling over and hurting a patron. The bar was fully stocked with every kind of liquor imaginable, and then some. The club also had valet parking and the taxi company on speed dial.
"Do you need any help with that?" the bouncer asked. Vinyl blinked and shook herself out of her trance.
"Oh, no thanks, I've got it." Vinyl flashed a big smile and trotted toward the booth. She hauled the crates up the short flight of stairs one by one and set up the rest of her equipment. After she was done, she stood up and gazed out into the mostly empty room.
"This is going to be AWESOME!!!"
***
Lyra listened to the cart's rattle slowly grow softer and softer as Vinyl walked away. She closed the door and let out a defeated sigh before walking to the living room and slumping onto the couch. Her eyes trailed the path of one of the fan blades as it went around.
Once, twice, three times, four, five, six, seven...
"Ugh! I've lost control of my life!" she exclaimed, placing her hands on her face. She clutched one of the throw pillows to her chest and rolled over to face her harp sitting against the opposite wall.
"I guess practicing will get my mind off it."
She sat down on her seat and laid the harp against the inside of her shoulder. She set her hands on the strings and began to play. Her finger flowed across the strings as if some invisible being were guiding them exactly where they needed to go. The music echoed about the room and settled in every nook and cranny, engulfing everything it touched in a blanket of sound. Lyra closed her eyes and let the music flow through her. She imagined herself playing in Carneighgie Hall, the sound resonating off the old wood balconies, hundreds of people watching and admiring, enthralled by her harp. She imagined herself playing alone in a secluded forest and on top of a cliff facing the ocean. She imagined herself playing at weddings and at parties and at festivals. She allowed the music to carry her feelings far away where no one would find them, as playing any instrument will do.
But mostly she just played.
As she played the final note, she stood the harp back onto its feet and rested her head against the wood and closed her eyes. She pondered what she was going to do next. She could call a friend and have them over, but what would she do when she went to meet Vinyl? And what if they stayed later than usual? Lyra shook her head and went back to sit on the couch.
"Two styles both alike in dignity," she muttered to herself, "What a joke." She covered her face with the pillow and laid there. Her eyes grew heavy and she was about to fall asleep when...
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIING, BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIING
Lyra jumped at the sudden noise. She stood up from the couch and cantered over to the receiver, lifted the receiver off the set and before she could even say 'hello,' a bright and happy voice rang from the speaker.
"Lyra! Wonderful news! I have two free seats at my concerto tomorrow to reserve for whomever I want and I would like to give them to you!"
"Nice to hear you again, Octavia," Lyra giggled, "And I'd love to go, but what about your parents?"
"They are honorary guests of the soloist, so they're covered. Should I go ahead and RSVP you for the concerto?"
"Absolutely! I'll try and see if I can make Vinyl go. If not then I'm sure one of my other musical friends will."
"Positively splendid! I'll mark you down as a definite. Remember, the concerto is a week from next Wednesday at 8 o'clock however there will be a reception before and after the concert takes place for half an hour on both ends. I look forward to seeing you again, Lyra, ta-ta!"
With that, the cellist hung up and the speaker went silent. Lyra slid over to the calendar on the refrigerator and checked the date of the concerto. Both of them were free that day, so Lyra took a bright red marker and wrote down 'Concerto - 8:00' making sure it was quite visible. She looked at the clock. 9:30 pm.
"Crap, I should start getting ready."
She jumped to the shower and turned it on, letting the steam build and allowing Lyra to clear her head. She stepped into the shower, letting the hot water stream over her head and back for a few minutes before washing herself thoroughly. She turned off the water and dried off and after a few minutes of essential primping, she lightly spritzed her favorite perfume on her neck and chest. Lyra gathered herself up and put on her favorite coat and with that, Lyra opened to door and was off to the club.
***
"Oh my god, really?" Lyra stared at the immense line stretching around the corner and who knows how far beyond that. People of all kinds dressed in expensive looking clothes stood or sat, playing on their cell phones or talking to one another. It looked to be a very long wait. Lyra moaned and drooped her head for a moment before walking to the bouncer guarding the door. She hesitated, though. This guy was easily twice her size and could probably toss her all the way to the back of the line. Not to mention the people who comprised the line were beginning to look at her. She shook her head and pushed onward.
"Um, excuse me?" Lyra inquired. The bouncer looked down at her with a questioning glare.
"Uh, h-how long is the wait going to be? T-to get in, that is?"
"What's your name?"
"Lyra Heartstrings, s-sir..." The bouncer picked up his clipboard and flipped through the pages, mouthing her name as he did so. Lyra glanced at the people staring at her. She saw mostly uninterested people on their phones, but there were enough people giving her the death stare to unnerve her.
"Ah," the bouncer said, pointing to a name, "Lyra Heartstrings, there it is. You, madam don't have to wait. You can go right on through." The bouncer offered a friendly smile and undid the velvet rope blocking the entrance. Lyra hurried through and out of the murderous sight of the would-be patrons, almost knocking over a drunk couple staggering their way out to the taxi waiting outside. She slipped through the crowd and slid into a corner booth beside the bar.
"Can I get you something?" the bartender, a cute blond in his mid-twenties asked, leaning over the counter.
"Oh, water's fine for me," Lyra replied, hesitantly.
"Ah, we got a DD, eh?"
"A what?"
"You know, a designated driver," he stated matter-of-factly. The bartender smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Unless you're here to pick up somebody."
Lyra's face turned bright red.
"Oh, n-no, no no no no no, not me!" she stammered, "I'm just waiting for a friend."
The bartender chuckled and set her water on the table. Lyra avoided any further eye contact with him and shifted to where she could see the DJ booth. Vinyl was rocking out as always, her electric blue hair bobbing frantically, records flying everywhere, it was a wonder how she didn't lose or break anything over the course of the night. Lyra placed her head in her hands and sat transfixed in the booth, mesmerized by the spectacle that was Vinyl Scratch.
***
"Shit, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, God, fucking, SHIT!"
Vinyl frantically searched through her collection for the next song. She didn't anticipate how long her set was going to be, and to make matters worse, the next DJ hadn't showed up yet! She was sure that the manager had said that she would be done by eleven but it was already ten after. She switched to another crate and began rifling through it.
"I'm here!" a voice shouted over the music.
Vinyl twirled around to find a man in a navy blue bomber jacket at the top of the stairs. Her jaw dropped before she squealed loudly and hugged him, almost knocking him off balance and sending them both down the stairs.
"Beat Match! I haven't seen you since we were kids!"
"Yeah, it's been forever! But let's catch up later, your set's about to end." Vinyl tuned back in to the music and found that the last song had faded into only kick beats. She jumped and put on her last song and let Beat Match into the booth. As Vinyl walked down the stairs, she scanned the room for any sign of Lyra. She caught a glimpse of green hair in one of the booths and slowly made her way over toward it through the throng of club goers.
"Almost there, Lyra, I'm coming," she thought aloud. She slipped into the booth as smoothly as she could manage in the confined space of the packed club.
"So, Lyra, about that poe-..." She looked up to find two brightly colored individuals staring at her in complete astonishment. An instant later they both realized who mistakenly slid into their booth.
"OHMYGODIT'SDJPON-3!!!!" they both squealed and simultaneously shoved spiral notebooks in her direction.
"CANWEHAVEYOURAUTOGRAPH?!?"
"Uh... yeah, sure! Who has a pen or a Sharpie or something?" The pair each excitedly slammed a permanent marker down on the table and sat back in their expectant positions. Vinyl mouthed the word "Okay" and opened one of the booklets and her jaw dropped. Inside were the signatures of really famous artists such as Steve Hayoki, Daft Trot, and tons more. She flipped through about ten pages full of signatures until she found a space under Swedish Horse Mafia and signed her name in both books and slid out of the booth while the two fought over whose notebook was more full.
She walked to the next booth and scanned the room again. She finally saw Lyra when she gave a soft wave from two booths back. Vinyl waved back and wormed her way through the crowd towards Lyra. Then, in a picture of grace, the DJ tripped on one of the empty bar stools and flailed into the booth. She slowly gathered herself into an upright position, failing to hide the redness of her cheeks, and the fact that Lyra was beside herself with laughter didn't help at all. A few moments and several deep breaths later, Lyra had composed herself... for the most part.
"Done yet?" Vinyl giggled.
"Yeah," Lyra replied, massaging her sides.
"Good. So, what's this poem about? You've been begging for me to listen to it forever, so here I am." Lyra's eyes brightened and her mouth opened as if she were going to talk but suddenly her head dropped and fell into a double face-palm. A relatively quiet anguished moan escaped her lips and she then buried her head in her arms on the table.
"You forgot it, didn't you."
Lyra nodded.
"And the paper you were writing it on isn't in your purse."
Lyra nodded again.
"And you know my policy of never leaving a bar completely sober."
Another nod.
"Ok, that's cool, let's just talk about something else." The DJ leaned back, asked the bartender for two beers and a glass of scotch and watched Lyra's face turn from regretful to pensive as she spent a few seconds in thought.
"Oh," Lyra perked up, "one of my friends called and wants us to attend her cello concerto about two weeks from now an-..."
"Her... what?"
"Come on, Vinyl, all that musical knowledge in your head and you don't know what a concerto is?" Lyra shot Vinyl an incredulous look.
"N-no... Should I? How do you spell it?"
"C-o-n-c-e-r-t-o," Lyra spelled slowly, "it's the thing in classical music where you have a solo instrument with an orchestral or symphonic accompaniment."
"Oh, ok, yeah, you lost me at classical. Nope, sorry, not doing it." Vinyl reclined and took a sip of her scotch.
"Why not?" Lyra pleaded, "You at least act like you enjoy it when I play, so why don't you put on that same act and come to the performance? It'll make her so happy to see that we came."
"Lyra, I'm going to be blunt," Vinyl said, "The only way that I could sit through something like that for so long is if I'm drunk out of my mind, and I don't think everyone would appreciate that."
"Vinyl, please, just go with me just for that one night." Lyra put on her best "sad puppy" face.
"I said no and that's final." Vinyl crossed her arms. Lyra's mouth hardened and she drew herself up.
"Well, if that's your game then I'll play it."
"What do you mean?" Vinyl cocked her head.
"Let's make a bet." Lyra leaned forward. "I bet that I can drink three pints of beer faster than you can drink three shots." Now it was Vinyl's turn to give the incredulous look.
"R-really? You?" She shook her head in disbelief and let it hang for a second.
"Alright," Vinyl said, taking a deep breath, "I'll humor you." She ordered the necessary drinks and lined them up in front of their respective drinkers. "I guess the wager is that if I lose, I go with you. What do I get if I win?"
"I'll never complain about anything related to your career including coming in late, blasting your music too loudly, among other things, and I'll never ask you to go to anything pertaining to my side of the music spectrum." Vinyl cocked an eyebrow.
"And I'll do the dishes for a month," Lyra said, a little regretfully.
"Aight, I'm in, but just to be fair," Vinyl smirked, "I'm going to give you a little head start."
"However," Lyra added, "the only rule is that we can't touch each other's glasses. Deal?"
"Deal."
They shook hands and Lyra set to her first glass. At about her halfway mark, Vinyl slowly downed her first shot, then her second. Before she could down her third, Lyra set her empty first glass over Vinyl's third shot. Vinyl blinked and went to remove Lyra's glass but Lyra slapped her hand away.
"Ah, ah, ah," she grinned, "you can't touch my glass, remember?"
Vinyl watched in a mixture of awe, anger, and confusion as Lyra drank her other two pints. After she was done the pair sat in silence until Vinyl busted out laughing.
"Alright, alright, you win the stupid bet!" Vinyl exclaimed, "I'll go to the concert-o or whatever you call it."
Lyra's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Yay!!!"
"That doesn't mean I'm going to like it, though."
"I'm sure you will."