Thin tendrils of smoke rose and fell slowly, reflecting the multi-colored lights bouncing off the walls and ceiling. A drop of sweat slid down Pinkie Pie’s back as she leaned against a wall, heart and head pounding along with the heavy bass enveloping her. The massive speakers that dwarfed the stage were vibrating visibly, even from the back of the room filled with thrashing bodies. Was this dancing? Pinkie scowled.
Though the atmosphere and other ponies left a great deal to be desired, Pinkie found herself drawn to the ‘DJ’ currently on stage. The mare was young, and looked like she had only just left home; she certainly didn’t belong on a stage, let alone at a place like this. She looked completely comfortable however, as if she was born to be on stages at places like this, pounding her ears off with massive speakers, and she was certainly making the crowd go wild.
Pinkie was done dancing for the night. It was late, and the younger ponies on the dance floor were getting stupid. The hot pink mare sighed, quite unhappy that her night was cut short by gallivanting younglings. She forced herself to remember that she wasn’t much old than most of the troublemakers, but that didn’t stop her from looking down her snout at them. She looked back one last time as she turned to leave; it seemed to her that the mare onstage made eye contact, and held her gaze for several seconds. Pinkie shook her long straight hair away from her face and trotted swiftly out the back door and into the cool night, breathing deeply as a chilling shiver crept up her spine. The DJ’s eyes had been the clearest, ice blue… Even from so far away, Pinkie doubted she would ever forget that stare.
Pinkie Pie blinked and cracked a goofy grin as she watched herself in the bathroom mirror. Tonight was a special night…and she wanted to look her best, of course. After several more giggles and funny faces, she took a deep breath and attempted to switch into serious mode. She succeeded for only a few seconds, before breaking out into fresh giggles and taking a comb out of one of the drawers to her left. This she pulled gently through the little pink curl that hung down over her face, then stepped back and hopped up to stand on her hind legs to scrutinize her appearance. Duly impressed, she nodded slowly and smiled once again, pursing her lips as she did so to create a strange face resembling a happy duck.
“Yeah, Pinkie! You got swag, girl!” The hot pink mare clicked her hooves together and winked at her reflection, then settled back down on all fours and left the bathroom. Sugarcube Corner was empty at this hour; it was just past eleven o’clock, and Mr. and Mrs. Cake and their children were soundly asleep down the hall. Making sure to avoid any added noise, Pinkie tiptoed carefully down the steps and through the main store to the front door, pleased that she had avoided tripping or knocking something over in the dark.
Once outside, Pinkie stopped and sat on the front step for a moment, savoring the sweet air and cool breezes that were nighttime in Ponyville. This night, however, was different; Pinkie was practically quivering with excitement at the mere thought of where she was going. This very night was Vinyl Scratch’s- DJ Pon-3’s- only appearance in Ponyville for that year, and Pinkie, though a magnificent stroke of luck, had received a ticket. According to Mrs. Cake, the ticket had been sent because the Cakes had made a batch of cupcakes for a Vinyl Scratch party once; Pinkie believed otherwise, but she kept those feelings to herself.
It had been ages since Pinkie had last been to a Vinyl Scratch show; four years, to be exact. She was very different now; her hair was no longer straight, and her attitude was much improved, her love for parties had turned into a passion and her dancing skills had evolved tenfold. Judging by all the wonderful things she had heard about the younger mare, Pinkie was sure Scratch had changed as well. She wore dark glasses now, an insignificant fact that the pink Earth pony found rather sad; she still hadn’t forgotten the piercing gaze imprinted on her memory that night so long ago. Perhaps, she thought to herself, she would get lucky and meet those eyes again tonight.
A cold shiver crept up Pinkie’s spine, as it did every time she thought of those intense blue eyes. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she giggled.
“Pinkie, you’ve struck gold this time!” she told herself as she threw her hooves in the air and fell backwards. “Who would have thought you’d be seeing Scratch again after all these years…” A few moments passed as the smile was gradually replaced by a somber look and Pinkie’s eyes latched onto the moon hanging directly over her head. A sigh escaped her lips, and she pulled herself back into a sitting position. “Well… Town hall is quite a walk away… I suppose I should be going.” Her hooves clacked against the step as she stood and took off down the road into the middle of town; in truth, town hall wasn’t that far away, but she needed to give herself an excuse for making the walk longer than it needed to be.
Though mood swings and reminiscent thoughts were a far throw from her normal attitude, Pinkie couldn’t help but acknowledge the butterflies in her gut when she thought about the show. For some reason, she couldn’t shake the strange feeling that Scratch must remember her. This made her anxious and she couldn’t place her hoof on exactly why, which only made her that much more nervous. Her mind at the moment was a convoluted net of intertwined thoughts, fears and anxieties, all of which were out of place on a night like tonight. It was beautiful out, and town hall had been decorated to a tee; Pinkie had supervised it, all exactly to Vinyl Scratch’s specifications. The stage was exactly five feet off the ground with speakers—
“Oof!” A small noise popped out of Pinkie as she ran into something; she identified it as a supporting beam after a few seconds of regaining her balance. She gulped, and another shiver slid unbidden down her back. Hadn’t town hall been farther away the previous day…? She bit her lip and stepped onto the porch, her stomach roiling and twisting into fantastic shapes as she saw the posters outside the door. A grinning DJ-Pon-3 stared out into space, the ‘v’ shaped eyebrows the only indicator of the expression in her eyes behind the dark glasses.
“Ticket please,” a large pegasus by the door all but shouted at the hot pink mare. Pinkie flinched and grinned sheepishly, pulled her ticket out of her hair and pushed it absentmindedly to the burly pony. He blinked, but didn’t say anything as he waved her by. The door opened seemingly of its own accord, but Pinkie didn’t bother to look back at the real culprit; she was already mesmerized by the scene before her.
Though her decorations and lights had looked incredible during the day, the heat of the moment mixed with the excellent atmosphere and creeping fog from a machine sufficed to take Pinkie’s breath away. The knots in her abdomen began to dissolve ever so slowly as the intoxicating feeling that always came just before a show began to wash over her. A lofty doorway onto the main dance floor arched over her head, and she strode confidently into the room, her hips swaying with preliminary music as she began to prepare for the long night stretched out before her.
