> How Lemon Got Her Zest Back
>  by mayorlight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Adrift
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neon lights strobed in vibrant hues as a heavy bass beat reverberated throughout the nightclub. It was a Friday night, and the crowd of patrons, mostly college students, were celebrating having survived another week of classes. They moved and grooved on the dance floor. A few even tried to make conversation over the loud pulsing electronic dance music, with very little success.  While this particular club did not serve alcohol, most of its patrons were drunk on life. Everyone was having a good time.

Everyone except for one person.

Lemon Zest sat at the end of the bar listlessly nursing a plastic cup of ginger ale as she watched the people on the dance floor. Normally, she would have been in the middle of them, dancing amid friends and strangers alike. Had there been a live band playing, she would have been riding the rails front row center. She had a well-deserved reputation as a party animal, tirelessly dancing into the wee hours of the morning and getting into all sorts of (mostly benign) mischief.

But tonight, she was simply not feeling like her usual self. Instead of a vivacious young lady nearing her twentieth year, she felt like a worn-out woman more than twice her age. Even after two hours of throbbing dance beats (and three carbonated drinks), she could not summon her will to dance.

On the stage overlooking the dance floor, DJ Pon-3 was at her booth, happily bobbing to the house song she had playing. Lemon allowed herself one tiny smile. If there was one good thing in her life right now, it was her roommate.

Lemon met DJ when their schools, Crystal Prep Academy and Canterlot High School respectively, competed against each other during the Friendship Games almost two years ago. True to her name, DJ shared Lemon's love of music. Despite the intense rivalry between their schools, the two instantly hit it off. They kept in touch after the Games, keeping each other apprised of the latest trends in popular music. 

When Lemon found herself looking for a place to stay following graduation, DJ offered to split a small two-bedroom apartment with her near downtown Canterlot. DJ would also help her get a part-time job at the music store where they both still worked to this day. Over the past year, the arrangement has worked well, allowing both of them to save money while they attended classes at Canterlot Community College.

Lemon was ever grateful to DJ. Whenever her roomie landed a gig at a nightclub, she made it a point to come out and support her. As soon as DJ got the music started, Lemon would begin moving and grooving, which never failed to draw other patrons out onto the dance floor. The two of them could keep a party going until closing time - until dawn if they were so permitted. But for the last couple of weeks, Lemon's energy just seemed to be gradually dissipating. She no longer had the spring in her step that allowed her to endure four years at one of the most draconian prep schools in the entire country.

Lemon realized that she had finished her drink, leaving only the ice cubes in her cup. She cast one more longing gaze out onto the dance floor, holding onto the feeble hope that - by some miracle - she might find the will to start dancing. Alas, it was for naught. Even with the entrancing beat pulsing through every speaker, with all of the bright fluorescent light trails strobing throughout the club, she felt hopelessly anchored to her barstool. She began to wonder if coming to the club tonight had been a mistake. Surely DJ would understand if she needed to go home early because she was not feeling well - which, technically, was not a lie. But first, one more drink, Lemon thought to herself. She was about to gesture for the bartender she heard a loud cheery voice over the din.

"Aww, why the long face?"

Lemon looked up to find herself staring into the bright grinning face of Pinkie Pie. Forgetting her lethargy momentarily, she greeted Pinkie with an enthusiastic hug.

"Hey, Pinkie! How've ya been?"

Lemon had also met Pinkie during the Friendship Games. Despite the initial tension between their respective teams, Pinkie did warmly welcome the Crystal Prep visitors with one of her signature parties. The festivities helped to break much of the ice - until they were cut short by Crystal Prep's then-principal Abacus Cinch. Despite fiercely competing against each other in the Academic Decathlon and the Tri-Cross Relay, Lemon and Pinkie both came to admire each other's seemingly boundless energy and optimism.

"Oh, much the same, just keeping the party going!" As the house song's beats faded out, DJ began playing a softer, more relaxed trance song - one that made it a little easier to hold a conversation. Pinkie eyed Lemon's cup. "Whatcha having?" 

"Just some ginger ale. I was about to get a strawberry spritzer"

Pinkie handed her debit card to the bartender. "Two strawberry spritzers, please!" She then sat down next to Lemon. "So, how's life been treating ya?"

"Oh, pretty good. Just working at the music store, knocking out my basic classes at CCC." After a moment of hesitation, Lemon half-heartedly added. "Still raising a little hell every now and then."

"Like you and Indigo Zap did in Vanhoover last summer?"

Lemon cracked a wistful smile. "Oh man, that will be hard to top! We saw it all! The waterfront, the woods, the Arts District, Kirin Town..."

"I remember that picture of both of you holding up the crabs!"

"I think that got us banned from that one restaurant," Lemon chortled. "Probably wasn't a good idea for us to just reach into the tank and grab the ones we wanted!"

The bartender returned with Pinkie's card and two frothy cups of strawberry spritzer.

"So where is Indigo nowadays?"

Lemon's gaze drifted down to her cup. "Out in Coltorado Springs. She's got her heart set on trying out for the national swim team. Nowadays, she's training nonstop - when she's not swimming, she's rock climbing or hand gliding. That week in Vanhoover was the last time I really got to hang out with her."

"What about your other friends from Crystal Prep?"

"Sunny Flare and Sugarcoat are both in Fillydelphia. Sunny is studying political science while Sugarcoat is looking to become a forensic accountant."

"Numbers don't lie!" Pinkie quipped.

"And Sour Sweet..." Lemon furrowed her brow. "Now that you mention it, Sour never really talked much about what she wanted to do after graduation. I haven't really been in touch with her over the past year beyond an occasional message on MyStable. I remember that you and Twilight helped her get that summer gig as a counselor at Camp Everfree."

"Oh yes! Gloriosa Daisy and her team absolutely adore her. Best archery instructor ever!"

"I believe it! Out of all of us, Sour was always the best with a bow."

Pinkie's smile gave way to a concerned look. "Is that why you're so glum? You miss your friends?"

The ice in Lemon's cup clinked as she rolled it about with one hand. "No, it's not that. I'm happy that they're all out there chasing their dreams. It's just that...I don't know what I want to do with my life."

Pinkie cocked her head in a silent beckon for Lemon to elaborate, which Lemon did.

"Crystal Prep taught us to aim high - pick a career, make a plan, and go for the gold. I was never going to become a doctor or a lawyer. The only plan I had after graduation was to knock out all of my basic education requirements at CCC and then transfer to another college. I had hoped that by then, I would have a clear idea of what I wanted to do. Now I feel like I'm just...floating adrift."

"Sounds like you're still in the middle of your rumspringa."

Lemon arched an eyebrow. "Rum-what?"

"Rumspringa. It means 'hopping around.'"

Hopping around, Lemon thought. It sounded pretty on-brand for Pinkie Pie!

Pinkie continued, "In the old days, the younguns in our family would leave home when they came of age to experience the outside world. After a year or two, they would decide whether to return to and stay with their community or make their own way in the wider world. Nowadays it's more about figuring out our life goals. My sister Maud spent a year doing plenty of wild and crazy stuff before she decided to really pursue her passion for rocks and become a geologist."

Lemon almost snickered. While she had never met Pinkie's elder sister, she had heard about Maud Pie's distinctly detached demeanor. It was very difficult to imagine her 'hopping around.'

DJ began playing a louder, uptempo song as the neon lights above the dance floor began to flash and strobe once more. A patter of feet up a nearby staircase drew Lemon's attention to an elevated railed walkway overlooking the bar. Above, a trio of girls clad in bikini tops, hot pants, and thigh-high boots strode single-file across the walkway.

Go-go dancers.

Pinkie gulped down the last of her spritzer before she called out to Lemon over the pulsing rhythm. "All I can say is, don't rush it. Enjoy the ride! You're bound to find your path sooner or later, even if you need to take a little detour." Pinkie patted Lemon on the shoulder. "Time to make my rounds. I'll be seeing ya, Lemon!" With that, Pinkie vanished into the crowd.

Lemon pondered Pinkie's words. Maybe she had been so preoccupied with "measuring up" to notice the paths branching out from the main road. At the very least, Lemon thought to herself, she was getting out and doing something - not just parking her butt in front of a screen twenty-four-seven! Even when Crystal Prep was at its most draconian, she had marched to her own drum. What did she have to fear from taking the road less traveled? 

Up above, the dancers swiveled their hips to the thump-thump-thump of the bass line. Little by little, more patrons were venturing out onto the dance floor. A go-go dancer's purpose is to entertain the crowd and get people excited to start dancing themselves. Now that Lemon thought about it, it was not much different from what she normally would have been doing right about now. What she had always done whenever she had the chance, really.

Having mustered some of her verve, Lemon downed the rest of her spritzer. I will get out there onto the floor, dance through the next song, then call it a night.

As she made her way toward the dance floor, she happened to glance up at the dancer closest to the stairs. The girl was lean, clad in shiny white boots and a magenta bikini that almost seemed to glow in the dark. Most striking, however, was the dancer's neon green hair which was similar in its color to Lemon's. Lemon could not quite put her finger on it, but there was something that seemed familiar about this girl.

The song ended with each of the dancers striking a dynamic pose. As the patrons roared, a row of lights illuminated the dancers. Lemon's gaze fell on the green-haired dancer's lithe pale gold form. That was when the dancer met Lemon's eyes. 

Lemon's jaw dropped as recognition dawned on her. The dancer's own face contorted into a mask of shock before she took off running down the stairs as fast as she could in her platform heel boots. Lemon weaved not-so-gracefully through the crowd, nearly knocking over a kissing couple as she made her way toward the bottom of the steps.

Up ahead on the club floor, the dancer bolted through a pair of swinging doors. Lemon rushed through the doors into a brightly lit hallway. Within the corridor, the din from the club was muffled just enough for Lemon to call out:

"Hey wait!"

The dancer halted in her tracks but did not look back. The double doors swung open again. Lemon whipped around to find the other two dancers coming up behind her. One, a girl with shoulder-length lavender hair, eyed Lemon with suspicion while the other, a girl with short bluish-white hair called out to their colleague.

"Everything okay here, Midori?"

The green-haired dancer straightened up. "It's alright, girls," she said as she slowly turned around.

Lemon stared, enrapt at Midori. Now, in the light of the hall, she could clearly see the dancer's toned abdominal muscles, her purple eyes, and, most notably, the freckles on her cheeks. Slowly, Midori reached a hand up to her temple, grabbed hold of her neon green hair, and pulled it down to reveal a familiar head of rose-colored hair gathered in a bun.

Lemon's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Sour Sweet?"

"Hey Lemon," Sour Sweet said with a sheepish smile. "Long time no see."
> Reignited
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lemon was thunderstruck. Either this was a dream or somebody had spiked her drink with some powerful hallucinogen! Never in a million years would she have ever imagined she would find Sour Sweet - of all people - swiveling her hips as a go-go dancer! Lemon stepped forward in a daze, wondering if her former classmate would dissipate like some psychedelic illusion.

"Yeah, it has been a while," Lemon mustered with some effort.

The other two dancers exchanged glances before the lavender-haired girl spoke.

"We'll be in the break room. Catch you in a bit, Midori."

With that, they walked past Lemon and Sour and disappeared down a branching corridor. Internally, Lemon breathed a sigh of relief. They must have taken her for some crazed stalker chasing after their colleague!  Oddly, Lemon had the feeling that she had seen both of them before...somewhere. She waited until they were both well out of earshot before speaking again.

"So, uh...small world, huh?"

"C'mon, let's go someplace where we can talk."

Sour led Lemon further down the hall to a door emblazoned with a bright golden star. Inside was a brightly-lit dressing room. Near the vanity counter was a shelf lined with four mannequin heads, all of which were bald save for one with a bright neon yellow wig. Sour gestured for Lemon to take a seat in one of the folding chairs as she placed her green wig onto one of the bald heads.

"That was quite a number you and your co-workers did just now," Lemon said. "I liked it."

Sour pulled up a chair for herself. "Thank you. Guess I've still got some of that ol' dance magic, eh?"

"You sure do! You know, I thought you'd all but vanished. Last I heard, you were teaching archery to campers at Camp Everfree. I never pictured you working with kids!"

"Keeping them interested is half the battle," Sour tittered. "Kinda gives you a whole new respect for our teachers. But it was a fun gig. Gloriosa Daisy is a great boss to work for. Her brother is alright," Sour's face now contorted into a sneer. "When he's not cracking dumb jokes."

"I'm surprised you didn't try out for the national archery team."

Sour's gaze drifted to the vanity mirror - to hers and Lemon's reflections. "Indigo said the same thing the last time she and I talked. I did consider it, but...honestly, Crystal Prep gave me all the competition I can stomach for a lifetime. I just wanted to go out and experience life - to make my own mistakes and learn from them - without having to prove anything to anyone." Sour now looked back toward her friend. "The thing is, I still don't know what I want to do with my life."

Had Lemon's hands not been planted on the chair, she would have toppled out of it. The Sour she had known at Crystal Prep approached nearly everything in life as she did with archery - lining up her shots before shooting her arrows. More often than not, she hit her targets. To hear that her classmate and fellow Friendship Games finalist was in the exact same boat as she was hit her like a ton of bricks.

"What did you do after the summer season at Everfree ended?" Lemon asked.

"I got a job at Sprawlmart. Lasted about three weeks before I got canned."

"What happened?"

"One day, I'm taking my break in the cafeteria when a couple of punks with their arms full of LEGO make a dash for the exit. The security guard grabbed one but the other was getting away. I was only thirty feet away, so I grabbed a soda can from the cafe cooler and chucked it at the second guy." At this Sour grinned. "Beaned him right on his temple!"

"Ha!" Lemon gave a clap of her hands. Now this was the Sour Sweet she knew! "Aw man, if somebody had gotten a video on their phone, it would have gone viral!"

That probably was for the best," Sour sighed.

"Why do you say that?"

"Once the first guy sees his buddy drop, he gives up. We take them to the security office and later the police haul them away. No big deal, right? The next morning, the store manager calls me into his office and tells me that they can no longer employ me, as the guy I beaned could potentially sue the store for 'excessive force.'" She gestured quotation marks with her fingers.

Lemon scoffed. "Oh, what bull!"

"Yeah, I said as much myself. After that, I landed a job as a call center rep for a credit card company. I lasted about two months there before they fired me for telling off one rude customer too many." At this, Sour shrugged. "What can I say? Half of these idiots don't even read the contract! Anyway, job-wise, it was just one bit of bad luck after another. I finally managed to land a job as a 'fulfillment specialist' at a retail distribution center during the holiday season."

Lemon's gaze drifted across the framed photographs of go-go dancers lining the walls. "So how did you end up getting this gig?"

"I was looking for a side hustle to earn some extra cash. One day, I reached out to Pinkie Pie and learned that she was looking for go-go dancers to perform at clubs and private events. I figured, 'Why not?' I mean, how long am I going to look this good?" Sour gestured to her midriff, still as lean and toned as ever.

Lemon blinked. "Wait...you work for Pinkie?" 

"I'm my own boss. Pinkie is like my agent. She gets a small cut from the gigs she lands me. And believe me, she is well worth it!"

"Do Sunny and the others know?"

Sour chuckled. "Funny you should ask that. I actually told Sunny during a vid call last night. I'll admit, I was bracing for her to go full Cinch on me! She was definitely surprised, but much to my surprise, she was actually supportive!"

Lemon raised an eyebrow. "Really? Sunny stick-up-her-ass Flare?"

"Believe me, I know her tells."

"How about Indigo and Sugarcoat?"

"I was actually going to call each of them. And you tomorrow morning. But as luck would have it, here you are!" 

"The stars doth align!" Lemon said in her best Shakespearean voice.

Sour now bit her lip. "I'm sorry I freaked out on you just now. I...guess I wasn't as ready as I thought I was."

Lemon waved her hand. "Hey, don't worry about it! I am now curious about one thing: Midori?"

"As in Midori Sour," Sour said as she retrieved the green wig and placed it back on her head.  "It's got a nice ring to it. And it goes perfectly with this color."

There was a knock at the door. Lemon and Sour glanced up as a grinning Pinkie Pie breezed into the dressing room. "Fifteen minutes to your next set, Midori!" Her smile deepened as her eyes fell on Lemon. "Oh, Lemon! What a coinkydink!"

Just then, the other two dancers entered the dressing room.

"Hey," the lavender-haired girl hastily greeted as she strode by. "I just need to change this top - the strap looks like it's about to give!"

Lemon eyed the first dancer as she sifted through the array of bikini and halter tops. When Lemon glanced back at the second dancer, recognition dawned once again.  "I thought you gals looked familiar," Lemon exclaimed. "You both used to work with Pinkie at the Sweet Snacks Cafe!"

The dancer standing at the door - the girl with bluish-white hair - laughed as she threw up her hands in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged!"

"Sunny Sugarsocks and Doo Wop, right?" asked Lemon.

Facing the wall, Doo Wop hastily doffed her black bikini top and fastened on a navy blue one. "Out there, yes." She then turned around with a sultry look. "Here, I am 'Quiet Storm.'"

"And I am 'Sweet Lace,'" Sugarsocks said, giving a toss of her shoulder-length hair.

Sour giggled. "I don't think Lemon ever saw either of you gals with your hair down. Or without roller skates!" Looking back at the Friendship Games tri-cross relay, it was no wonder Pinkie held her own speed skating against Lemon and Sunny Flare.

At that moment, Lemon's eyes drifted to the neon blond wig mounted on its mannequin head. Below the shelf holding the heads was a bin filled with several pairs of boots. Her sight then fell on a fluorescent green bikini hanging on the clothes rack. Lemon turned back toward the others, her eyes alight with a fire that had not blazed in a long time.

"I know this is super last minute," Lemon said. "But is there room for one more out there?"





Minutes later, Lemon Zest - clad in the blond wig, the green bikini, and a pair of white high-heeled boots - accompanied "Quiet Storm," "Sweet Lace," and "Midori Sour" back onto the club floor. Lemon had gained one centimeter around her waist over the past year, but that did not deter her in the least. She was still in Friendship Games form! With renewed confidence, she strode up the stairs. The last time she wore such boots was when she and Sour collaborated with Pinkie (and their respective classmates) to make their Chance To Prance music video. It was all too befitting!

As the dancers assembled on the walkway, DJ glanced up from her booth and spotted Lemon. DJ raised her sunglasses in disbelief and gawked for a moment before a huge smile split across her face. Throwing an enthusiastic thumbs up to her roommate, DJ queued up the songs comprising the go-go dancers' second set of the evening.

The crowd cheered as a lively electronic beat began pulsing throughout the club. Lemon threw herself back into her familiar groove. She did not worry about what move she did next. She did not need to be synchronized with the others - none of them did. They just kept moving. Lemon circled her hips and rolled her head to the thumping bass line. She could not remember the last time she danced as energetically as she did now.

Down below, Pinkie Pie sauntered over to DJ and cheerfully bumped fists with her former CHS classmate. Pinkie had been saddened when DJ told her the previous week that Lemon Zest was not feeling her usual self. Knowing that Lemon still regularly showed up to DJ's club gigs, Pinkie worked to book Sour Sweet at the same venue at the same time. Perhaps a "chance reunion" with a CPA classmate would revive some of Lemon's verve.

Sure enough, reconnecting with Sour face-to-face raised Lemon's spirits. However, Pinkie had not expected Lemon to join Sour and the others in their performance. Thankfully, Sour, Doo Wop, and Sugarsocks welcomed the idea. The girl dancing alongside them now was the same vivacious Lemon Zest whom Pinkie and Sour had always known. Most importantly, Lemon was having fun. Mission accomplished!

The dancers danced through a total of three songs, the crowd cheering and grooving along with them all the while. By the end of the third song, Lemon was tired, but in a good way. The fatigue brought on by passionate exertion was far, far different from that born from despondency. She held her head high as she and her new colleagues returned to the dressing room.

Lemon cheered with a hop. "Oh man, that was so much fun!"

Sour clasped Lemon on the shoulder. "You've still got it!"

Pinkie came up behind them clapping her hands. "Congratulations, Lemon Tart! You have officially passed your audition!"

Doo Wop and Sugarsocks likewise cheered and applauded Lemon.

Tears of joy welled up in Lemon's eyes. "Thank you, gals. You don't know how much I needed this!"

They gathered for a group hug.

"Before we forget," Sugarsocks piped up. "We are booked at this club again next Friday and Saturday."

"Are you free those nights, Lemon?" Doo Wop asked.

Lemon grinned. "I sure am!"

Sour hugged her old friend even tighter.

Pinkie pumped her fist. "Awesome! Glad to have you on board, Lemon! Group photo!"

Pinkie mounted her smartphone onto a selfie stick and snapped a photo of the five of them. Afterward, the dancers proceeded to change back into their "civilian" clothes. Lemon smiled at herself in the mirror as she removed the blond wig. For the first time in a long, long time, she truly felt alive. 





The following day, Lemon met Sour at Canterlot City's central park. They sat on a bench under the shade of a large tree sipping cups of iced tea as Sour called Sugarcoat on her smartphone. Lemon held her tongue as Sour spent several minutes making small talk before revealing her go-go side hustle. It had always been difficult to read Sugarcoat's mood face-to-face, and doing so over the phone was nigh impossible. Their former classmate seemed intrigued more than anything, matter-of-factly asking Sour about her personal safety measures like an older sibling. When Sugarcoat remarked that she expected Lemon to have taken up go-going first, Lemon seized the moment to cheerfully surprise her on the line. 

They used the same approach when they called Indigo, who was just as dumbfounded as Lemon had been the night before.  Apparently, Indigo never thought an "Amazon" like Sour would ever take up go-going. When Indigo demanded a photo as proof, Sour and Lemon were more than happy to forward the one Pinkie had snapped the night before in the group text chain they shared with her, Sunny, and Sugarcoat. After giving the photo a "thumbs up," Indigo promised to come see Sour and Lemon at one of their gigs the next time she came for a visit - a sentiment which Sunny and Sugarcoat both echoed.

After nearly two hours of chatting on the phone, Sour and Lemon leaned back to gaze up at the azure sky. They watched the pearly clouds float by for several minutes before Lemon broke the silence.

"So, what other venues do we normally hit?"

"Pinkie knows a few other club owners in town. She is also working on getting us a gig at Starswirl Music Festival."

"That'll be fun!" Lemon finished the last of her tea. "You ever think of going back to school?"

Sour considered for a moment. "I have. A degree in Business, Communications, or Marketing is always versatile. These days, no matter what you do, it helps to know how to be an entrepreneur." She finished her own tea and crushed the paper cup. "Just as long as the school isn't some damn diploma mill!"

"Yeah, no kidding!" Lemon snorted.

They both crumpled up their empty cups into palm-sized basketballs and sent them sailing into a trashcan twenty-two feet away. Free of appointments to keep and obligations to meet, they continued watching the clouds.

Lemon reflected on the events of the last (not-quite) twenty-four hours. She had been so paralyzed by her own indecision, her own fear of wasting her time, energy, and resources, that she had forgotten to look at the big picture. Her reunion with Sour the previous night served to remind her that there were many paths to success (or at least financial independence), even if they included a few detours along the way.

Who would have ever thought the impetuous Pinkie Pie was such a schemer?

Lemon still had no clue what path she herself wanted to pursue, but for now, that did not matter. She was going to enjoy - and learn from - every step of her journey. And if she can make a few extra bucks doing something she truly enjoyed, alongside a friend, all the better!