I Left My Heart in Marecelona
“Seriously, I still can’t get over the nerve of that chef. Self-entitled jerk. Where does he get off talking to us like that, huh?”
I nod at Lily and take a bite of my salad. Fresh and crisp, and whatever is in this “house” dressing, it’s really good. But it’s not going to do much to curb my craving for a toasted hay and daisy wrap.
“I mean, it says right on the floor plan for the reception hall that the lily arrangements go on both ends of the buffet line! Both! Not just one!”
I made a ‘mhmm’ sound as I chewed another mouthful of salad, motioning with my free hoof to keep Lily talking. Not that she needed any encouragement. I knew this rant was coming the minute that chef threw his first set of random complaints our way this morning.
“But nope, he was as serious as Princess Twilight in a library.” Lily waved her fork around wildly, flinging specks of ranch dressing onto the table. “He insisted that the flowers go on the left side only. And after I moved them like he demanded, he had the gall to complain that they were in the way of his Luna-forsaken ice sculptures! Ugh!”
The salad was good for sure. But what I was really craving was a toasted hay and daisy wrap. Simple street food like that is probably too low brow for ‘trendy’ cafes like this one, but these fancy Canterlot chefs don’t know what they’re missing out on. Those street vendors in Marecelona could teach them a thing or a hundred about real comfort food.
“You’d think shoving the floorplan – which the bride herself drew up – in his face a dozen times would get the point across, but nooooo…”
The more I thought about those wraps though, the more my mind wandered to an entirely different kind of snack. One that you wouldn’t find on any restaurant menu.
“I swear to Celestia, if they weren’t paying us both twenty percent over our usual event rate, I’d have taken his fancy fru-fru hat off his stupid head, turned it sideways, and shoved it straight up his rump!”
His smile, his kiss, his voice… hair as black as night, and those seductive, endless blue eyes...
The mere thought sent a flutter through my heart.
“Um, Rose? Hey, Equus to Rose…”
What I wouldn’t give for one more night, one more dan–
“Roseluck!”
“Ow!” Lily’s voice, and a well-placed kick to my lower leg beneath the table, jolted me back to reality. “That hurt.”
“Sorry, but you were totally spaced out there. Did you hear anything I just said?”
“What? O-of course I did, Lily! You were talking about, um… it was, erm…” I flailed for a few seconds before giving up and slumping back in my chair. My cheeks felt like they were on fire with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”
Lily looked at me for a moment, then sighed and shook her head. “At least I don’t have to ask what you were thinking about.”
My cheeks turned pink again. “Y-yeah.”
“Three months later and still daydreaming about him?” Lily grinned and sipped her wine. “Girl, you definitely left your heart in Marecelona, didn’t you?”
“I wasn’t planning to, at least. You know my main goal in going there was to visit Tablao Rosa, experience the place for myself.” I grabbed my wine glass and took a long drink of my own. “But it was all so much more than I could have even dreamed of.”
“Are we talking about the dancing, or this mystery stallion?”
I couldn’t help but smirk just a bit as I replied. “Yes.”
That got her attention. Lily’s ears perked up and her eyes focused squarely on me. She leaned forward and lowered her voice, clearly playing up the moment. “Does this mean there was an encore performance?”
“Hmm…” I hid a sheepish grin behind my glass of Malbec. It didn’t go with the salad at all, but I’ve been on a Malbec kick lately. “You could say that.”
“Oh la la!” Lily bounced a bit in her seat. “It’s like one of those steamy romance novellas come to life.”
“Those novellas wouldn’t have done him justice, trust me. But steam was definitely involved.” I just smiled and took another sip of wine while I waited for Lily’s face to flush when her mind caught up to what I had actually said there.
“Okay, now you’re just showing off. Though now that I think about it, you never mentioned any of this before, Rose.”
“Sure I did,” I replied. “We were at the spa with Daisy right after I got back, remember? We talked all about it over hooficures.”
Lily raised a fork and poked it in my direction. “Now don’t you play coy with me, filly. You said you met a stallion and danced with him. You didn’t say anything about an after party.”
“Every mare is entitled to a secret or two.” I picked a small tomato off the top of my salad and popped it in my mouth. “Besides, I don’t hear you two volunteering stories about your dating exploits.”
Lily began to reply, only to stop and laugh at herself a bit. “Alright, alright, fair point. Still would’ve been cool to give us a clue at least though.”
I saw the waiter coming over out of the corner of my eye, dessert tray in hoof, and I smiled. “Well… a piece of caramel cheesecake might coax a few clues out of me.”
“Fine, but you’re buying the wine.”
I chuckled and clinked my glass against Lily’s. “Deal.”
“Wow, that sounds amazing, Rose. And really, really hot.”
My cheeks turned red all over again. Well, redder, anyway. They had been various shades of that color for the last few minutes as I recounted that wonderful night between bites of cheesecake. After polishing off the last of my wine I switched to water - partly to better wash down the dessert but also to try and keep myself from getting too hot under the withers as I talked.
I dabbed the corner of my mouth with a napkin and took a deep breath in an attempt to slow my mind down. “Like I said, it was unexpected. And over far too quickly. But I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”
“You’d be a fool not to if he’s that good,” Lily said between her last bites of cheesecake. “Does this dashing stallion have a name by the way?”
My throat suddenly became dry and I had to reach for a quick gulp of water. “Um… Yes?”
Lily let out a small whistle, “Ouch… you replicated those romance novellas too well there, Rosie.”
My ears folded back a bit. “I know, I know. That’s mostly why I took his scarf, so I’d at least have something. But still, I just can’t stop thinking about him. Every time I practice, I can almost see him next to me, matching me move for move. On free dance nights back at the Silver Shoe, I keep hoping he’ll just walk in the door.” I let out a long breath, blowing a piece of mane out of the way in the process. “I know it sounds like a big fling, Lily, and maybe that’s all it was to him. Maybe he’s forgotten all about me already. And yes, I know I’ve had a few flings over the years. But by the stars this all felt so… so different. So right. Like we really saw something in each other. Something more.”
The bill arrived just then, and we paused to divy up the total. Lily picked up the dessert, her price for hearing all about my little tryst halfway around the world. I covered the wine and we split the rest, and soon we were walking back out into the sunny but very humid Friday afternoon.
“By the way, did you ever get an update on your dance shoes?” Lily asked as we turned down the avenue and began the trot back toward our hotel.
“Yeah,” I replied. “While you were taking a lunch break, a courier stopped by the reception hall with a message from Pirouette over at the dance supply store. Said there was a delay getting some of the material she needed, so my shoes won’t be done until tomorrow.”
“Ah, I see. Well, I’d love to hang out with you so you’re not stuck here by yourself, but I have a couple of appointments tomorrow myself.” Lily gave me a sympathetic look. “I feel bad now.”
“Nah, don’t be,” I waved her off before following her lead across an intersection. ”Pirouette works miracles, but I know flamenco shoes aren’t something she deals with every day in her shop either. I’m just glad I have somepony I can trust to re-sole them correctly when they need to be. ‘Sides, I’ll probably just end up grabbing a light dinner at the pub next door to the hotel and call it an early night. Been a long day.”
“Absolutely,” Lily replied. “I have no doubt I’ll doze off on the train ride back to Ponyville.”
Once back at the hotel, I stopped by the desk to add the extra night to my reservation while Lily went to our shared room to finish packing her things. We agreed to split up the boxes of supplies we had brought with us to set up at the reception, ensuring neither of us had to lug it all back home by ourselves. Lily returned to the lobby after a few minutes, and I joined her on the carriage ride over to Canterlot Central Terminal.
While she was getting checked in, I went to the ticket counter to change my own ticket to tomorrow’s midday train before joining her on the platform. We made small talk for a short while, until the arriving train pulled in and began disembarking its passengers. After helping her load the extra boxes, I waved Lily off as the train pulled out into the early evening sun for the just under four-hour ride back to Ponyville.
With time to kill, I took the long way back toward the hotel. I did some window shopping along the way, and spent a little while in one of the city’s many well-manicured parks. Between the shade provided by the many trees, the cool mist from a nearby stone water fountain, and a cool berry smoothie I snagged from a roving vendor, it helped take the edge off the thick late summer heat.
A lovely sunset painted the skies above Canterlot in a myriad of colors by the time I began making my way back to the hotel. Gem-powered street lights began to flicker on as I went, casting their warm yellowish glow up and down the boulevards. Ponies and other creatures whisked to and fro; some dressed up for a night on the town, others hurrying home after work or ducking into one of the dozens of restaurants opening up for evening dinner service. It wasn’t the frenetic energy of Marecelona, but Canterlot at nightfall was a sight all its own.
With my stomach still mostly satisfied from lunch and little else to do, I was content to grab a nightcap at the pub, then head back to my room. My plans changed, however, when I stopped to read a very brightly colored flyer that had been stuck to one of the streetlight poles.
DJ Hoof Beatz presents
The Globetrot World Tour
Featuring the hottest sounds from across Equus, from Neighpon to the Griffish Isles
plus timeless classics remixed by Hoof Beatz herself!
This Friday & Saturday ONLY at
Synthwave
Doors open at 8 // Show starts at 9
Any other time, cramped clubs with insanely loud music wouldn’t appeal to me that much. I like my smaller, more intimate venues. But right then, loud, fast, and upbeat sounded perfect. I don’t know if it was the stress from pulling off that huge wedding event, months worth of pent up daydreams, or some crazy mixture of both. But the more I looked at that flyer, the more my hooves needed to move.
And move they did – to the hotel just long enough to freshen up, and then to catch a taxi to the eastern district of the city, where the nightlife hub was located.
“Now this is more like it.”
The architecture wasn’t the same, but the vibe, the energy in the air brought me right back to Marecelona. Every street seemingly buzzing with excitement. Street vendors hawking all manner of food and drink, the aromas mixing with the laughter and cheers of creatures thronging through the streets, the echoes of music emanating from club after club. And all of it bathed in a rainbow of lights that cast a soft neon glow over everything and everyone.
The surroundings may be different, but the energy I felt brewing up within me was the same one I felt standing on that street corner in Marecelona all those months ago. The same magnet that drew me to that tablao then drew me now through the crowded streets of Canterlot on a Friday night, guided by the need to dance, to let myself sing in my own way.
I popped out from a small shortcut path in the midst of a gaggle of food vendors, all of whom had quite the line of hungry patrons around them. I shuffled left and right, trying to be as polite as I could amidst the crowd, but I stopped when my nose caught a very familiar smell. “Is that—”
I twisted around and wormed my way between a trio of ponies and zebras bedecked in neon glowsticks until I saw it right there on a sign. “Hay and daisy wraps!” I’d have kicked my hooves up in glee, but that would have only succeeded in bucking the poor mare in front of me who was also trying to get into the queue, it seemed.
Thankfully the line moved fairly quickly, and after a few minutes I was happily munching away on a toasted hay and daisy wrap. Didn’t have quite the same seasoning the vendor in Marecelona used, but it still fed my soul just as much. More than that, it stoked that yearning from before, that increasingly fantastical wish to see him again.
After finishing the wrap and washing it down with some flavored soda, I merged back into the throngs of creatures and, following the directions the hotel clerk had provided, made my way toward my destination.
I had not heard of this DJ Hoof Beatz before, but if the crowd outside Synthwave was any indication, this was the place to be tonight. The clock on a nearby building showed the time to be half past eight, which left me just enough time to get a ticket and make my way into the venue just as the show was really kicking off.
And what a venue it was.
“Oh wow! The Silver Shoe in Ponyville has nothing on this place.”
No one heard me say that, of course, as my voice was completely drowned out by the noise of the crowd and the rhythmic thumping of bass coming through the walls into the club’s ‘lobby’ area. A few minutes of squeezing, shuffling, and unheard apologies later, I popped out into the dancefloor proper, where I was greeted by the biggest wall of speakers I had ever seen.
I remember Vinyl Scratch having a full complement of equipment whenever she played shows back home, but this place was on a whole other level. Speakers of all shapes and sizes ringed the DJ booth, with more hanging from the ceiling or mounted into the railing of the balcony level that curved around the outer edge of the room. Gem-powered lights, strobes, and even a fog machine sprung to life in time with the music, washing over a mass of creatures easily big enough to fill Ponyville’s town hall a few times over. Ponies, griffons, zebras, hippogriffs, and even some changelings were dancing and jumping and twisting every way they could. It was a total free for all, so unlike the tidy, neat progression of the small venues I was used to, to say nothing of the Tablao Rosa. But it was all in-sync at the same time, like the crowd was its own living, breathing thing, and the music was its lifeblood.
It took me a moment to find an open spot on the floor, but once I did, I shook my mane out and dove in with gusto.
Forty minutes and most of the opening set later, I ambled through the crowds and made a beeline for an open spot at the corner of a bar set on the far side of the main floor.
The bar itself was set in a kind of alcove that was raised just a few small steps off the floor. Glass light tubes framed the back of the bar, the gems set into each end casting an ever-changing spectrum of colors across the well-stocked glass shelves. A sturdy bar top of polished metal accented with dark wood stood in front, with more of the neon lights casting a subtle glow onto the floor in front. The bartender, a tall unicorn mare with a bright orange mane done up in a shaved bob style, popped over my way after a few seconds.
“Evening, dearie. What’ll it be?”
“Oh, uh, h-hello!” I took a deep breath to try and calm down a bit and wiped a bead of sweat off my head. “Not sure to be honest. Something cold that’s not cider. Any recommendations?”
“I got just the thing,” she said. “You okay with gin?”
“Yep. Go for it,” I replied. She gave me a wink and went to work. I couldn’t tell what ingredients she was using other than the gin, but a couple of minutes later I watched her hover a tall glass in front of me.
“Here we are,” she said as set the glass down. “My take on a classic gimlet. Give it a try.”
Immediately my nose was filled with the scent of fresh cucumbers and lime, along with a bit of sweetness. A thin slice of cucumber lay atop the glass, held in place like a ribbon by a small skewer. “Looks great!” I carefully sipped from the glass and immediately my mouth was awash in a blast of cooling flavors. The lightness of the lime and cucumber blunted some of the herbiness of the gin, making it entirely refreshing.
“Really hits the spot too. Thank you!”
The barmare beamed at me as she set some freshly cleaned glasses on what looked like a drying rack. “Glad you like it!” She seemed to look past me towards the stage for a moment, where the music was hitting a fever pitch. “Sounds like Turntable’s wrapping up. Hoof Beatz is on about fifteen minutes after that, so feel free to relax for a bit. You’ll need the energy.”
I nodded. “Will do. And thanks. This is a faster pace than I’m used to. But it’s a lot of fun too.” I glanced back at the pulsing mass of creatures out on the dance floor and smiled. “I don’t think I could match their energy all the time, but I could totally do this again.”
Behind me I heard the crowd break into loud cheers and applause, and a moment later the music faded out, replaced by a quieter, almost soothing beat. The opening set was finished.
“Glad you’re having fun,” she replied, her voice momentarily much louder without the bass to drown it out. “Great thing about shows like this is, you don’t need to memorize any specific dance moves. Just get out there, shake your flank, and have fun.”
“Heh, I’ll drink to that!” I raised my glass in playful salute. She met the gesture with a water bottle she grabbed from the counter behind her.
“Ah—” she stopped midway through taking a drink of water. “Speaking of Turntables…”
I saw a pony move into view to my right, and I scooted my chair over a smidge to give him a bit more room. But the moment I fully laid eyes on him I had to stop myself from doing a double-take. Pegasus, stallion. Average height. Sandy, almost light-brown hair. And a light red coat.
I had seen this pony before. But where?
“Heya, Swizzle. How’s my favorite barkeep?”
“That depends,” I heard her say. “You gonna take me out for that dinner you promised me last time you were here?”
He smiled wryly at her. “Eh, if you twist my wing enough, maybe.”
Feigning outrage, Swizzle lightly whacked him on the snout with a towel. “That’s for after dinner, you naughty colt.” They both busted out laughing at that, and I couldn’t help chuckling to myself as well.
“Your usual?” she finally asked.
“Yep!” came his reply, and barely a minute later, she slid a drink in front of him as he took the seat next to me.
“Vodka soda with a twist. Just like you like it,” Swizzle said. “Cheers.”
She moved off to tend to the first wave of customers making their way over for a drink between sets. Meanwhile, I sat quietly sipping my drink, and wracking my brain trying to figure out why the stallion next to me looked so familiar and yet not at the same time. Part of me kept wanting to just ask him directly, but I also didn’t want to make myself look like a fool, a stalker, or both.
“So, how’s the tour so far, Turn?”
I was so lost in my own mind, I had not noticed Swizzle return to this side of the bar.
“Going great so far,” he answered. “HB is, as always, a bundle of energy. Tough to keep up with some days, but she’s a great partner to be touring with too. Just glad to be a part of it all again. Been a while since I’ve played venues this big.”
“Oh yeah,” Swizzle replied as she used a bit of magic to reorganize a few bottles. “You‘ve been doing the residency thing across the ocean, right?”
“Mhmm,” he nodded. Two of them, actually. One in southern Prance, the other in Marecelona.”
Now I did a double take. Now I knew where I had seen this stallion. I was sure of it. As sure as my heart rate just spiked about ten times over.
If this was the pony I thought he was, then…
“Excuse me,” I tapped him on the shoulder, the words spilling out of me before I could second-guess myself, “Did you say Marecelona?”
He turned my way and for a split-second I could see that same sense of maybe but not quite recognition in his eyes. “Yes…”
I swallowed hard, chewing over the next words. “Any chance you did any of those shows in flamenco joints? Perhaps the Tablao Rosa?”
“Um, I believe so…” He furrowed his brow for a moment. “Yes! Yes I did a few shows at the Rosa too, now that I think—” Now it was his turn to do a double take. “Oh my gosh. Are you…?”
I nodded my head, a giddy smile plastered on my face.
“I thought you looked familiar!” he rapped his hoof on the edge of the bar. “Wow, this is… this is amazing!”
“Hmm?” Swizzle gave me a curious look. “Do we have a VIP in our midst here and she didn’t tell me?”
“Maybe not a celebrity like you’re used to here, Swizzle, but she’s the talk of the dance crowd back in Marecelona.”
That caught me entirely by surprise too. Me? Famous for anything at all? I leaned back in my chair and looked at him. “I am?”
“She is?” Swizzle added.
“Indeed,” he replied. “A few months ago, I was doing a pair of dates at the Tablao Rosa—”
“That’s the really old, famous one you told me about a few times, right?”
“Same one,” Turntables continued. “Kinda off the tourist radar, but for those who know or appreciate flamenco, it’s a destination all on its own. To say nothing of getting to dance there yourself.” He took a pull from his drink and cleared his throat.
“So it’s a Saturday night. The biggest night of the week, with two performances on tap, usually with the best performers on the tablao’s roster. Then in walks this mare with a black dress and a red mane—” he nodded my way. “Things started off as usual, so I’m just in my groove setting things up for the second half of the show. Next thing I know, Gables is pulling her up on the stage and he’s asking me to spin up a track for a duet.”
“Gables?” I muttered.
“Green Gables, to be exact. Youngest son in the Gables clan, which has been the name in roofing and construction around Marecelona stretching back decades. And widely considered to the best Bailaor the city has seen in generations.”
Finally, I could put a name to that handsome face. And what a wonderful name it was.
Green Gables. I let his name roll around my head a few times, just letting it marinate in my memories of him. It suited him well too. Green, just like the vibrant highlights in his hair. And gables, the crowning piece on top of any roof – and, as my memories quickly reminded me, he definitely knew how to be on top.
“Anyway,” Turntables continued, waving a hoof for attention, “so Gables and, er, sorry what’s your name?”
“Roseluck,” I replied.
“Ha!” he barked a laugh. “The nickname fits you even better than I might have imagined.”
“Nickname?” I answered warily.
“Yes. A lot of the regulars at the tablao call you ‘Night Rose’. Pretty fitting too, if you ask me. You stole the show, and then stole Gables away for the rest of the night.”
I nearly spit out the sip of my drink I had just taken. “W-Wha— I, er, what did he tell you?”
Turntables waved me off. “Nothing salacious, I assure you. Gables is a charmer, but he’s no oaf either. I’ve known him long enough to know he doesn’t fall for just anypony, and he fell hard for you. He still wears a rose on his shirt every time he performs now.”
I gasped at that. “H-He… oh my gosh I… I had to leave the very next day… Hell, it all happened so fast I never even knew his name until just now. I just figured he’d forget about me.”
“Sure sounds like he hasn’t,” Swizzle said as she leaned over the bar towards us. “Moves like that and he might be rich too? Filly, you better go back there and get him before I do, hehe.”
Just then a wild mix of light and sound began booming through the place as the staff began what I guessed was a final sound check.
“That’s the five minute mark then,” Turntables said before polishing off the rest of his drink. “I better get back there and see if they need my help, and figure out what food will be open at two in the morning too.” He winked toward Swizzle.
“One more thing,” he added, turning to me. “Are you from Canterlot, Roseluck?”
“No. I live in Ponyville. I only came here to help one of my friends set up flower arrangements for a client’s wedding. We co-run flower shops. But do me a favor…” I placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Tell Gables where I am. I’ll do my best to visit him again, as soon as I can. But if he comes this way, now he knows where to find me. And tell him… tell him that I have his scarf waiting for him. He’ll know what that means.”
Turntables just smiled warmly and patted my hoof with the tip of a wing. “That I can do.” He got up from his chair but turned back after only a few steps. “Stick around for Hoof Beatz’s set, by the way. I… think there’ll be a song in the set you’ll really like.”
He gave me a wink and disappeared into the crowd. Moments later the lights went down throughout the room, and the fog machines began to fill the floor in a fresh haze.
Turntable’s set was great, but Hoof Beatz was like an out of this world experience. I could quickly see why she and Vinyl Scratch had such a friendly rivalry. The lights, the sounds, the beats, all of it was mesmerizing, and the crowd was lapping up every second of it. Then, after the first few tracks, a spotlight shone down on the DJ booth, and I could just make out Hoof Beatz grabbing a microphone.
“How we doin’ tonight, Canterlot?”
The crowd roared its approval.
“Awesome! So good to be back here, and thank you all for comin’ out tonight. Turntables and I have an amazing set planned for you, so keep that energy up! And we’re gonna kick it up a notch right now with a real banger, straight from the shores of Esponia itself. Get those hooves ready, y’all, cause things are about to get spicy up in here! Are you ready?”
Again, the crowd cheered and hollered.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” The beat switched tempos entirely as a new song began to slowly rise in volume. “This is a new mix by Turntables, actually. One he’s been previewing in small venues across Marecelona over the past few months. But tonight, you lucky ponies get to hear it for the first time in Equestria! It's so fresh, he literally just decided on a name for it a few minutes ago! He calls it…”
“Night Rose.”
The volume ramped up, that first guitar note sounded out, and I recognized it all immediately. It was the same song he played that night. The exact same one.
My heart soared with the rising tempo as my front hooves began tapping along, falling into sync with the beat like it was second nature. I didn’t have my dance shoes, or my dress, or a wooden stage. But I didn’t care. Everything came rushing back in an instant. The club faded away, replaced by that small tablao, the simple wooden stage, and a gorgeous stallion standing back to back with me, ready to take the world by storm.
The tempo kept building, and building, driving both the crowd and my heart crazy. I waited with bated breath for that first drop, that explosion of sound.
And when it did, I danced.
Marecelona, Three days later
Knock knock
“Just a second! I’m coming!”
Green Gables groggily trotted down to the first level of his flat, entirely displeased with being awakened so urgently.
Knock knock
“I said I’m coming! Luna’s sake just hold on a second!”
Using the wall for extra balance as he fought to shake off the dregs of sleep, he finally made it to the first floor – and was almost blinded by the sunlight pouring in through the kitchen window. Taking a second to futilely brush his mane into shape with a hoof, he opened the front door.
And stared right into the face of a local postal courier pegasus who looked entirely too cheery for such an early hour.
“Telegram for a Green Gables!”
“Yeah, that’s me. But do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Um…” the pegasus quickly checked his pocket watch. “About half past ten in the morning, senor?”
Green started to reply, then his brain caught up to what time it actually was. He looked up at the clear, sunny, mid-morning sky, and sighed. “Ah, I see. Late night last night, you see.”
If the courier was offended, he didn’t show any visible reaction. “No problem, señor. Anyway, if you can be signing here, I will be out of your mane.” He pulled a clipboard and pen from his saddlebags and passed them over to Green, who promptly grabbed the pen in his mouth and scribbled a signature.
“Perfect. And here is your telegram. Have a lovely day, señor.”
Green thanked the courier and went back inside. After getting a pot of coffee started, he grabbed a letter opener and carefully broke the wax seal protecting the telegram.
“Alright, what have we here…”
PEGASUS EXPRESS - OFFICIAL TELEGRAM
DATE: August 26, YC 1005
FROM: Turntables - Canterlot, Equestria
TO: Green Gables - Marecelona, Esponia
Just did two shows in Canterlot. Won’t believe this, but Night Rose was there. Yes, it was really her! Real name’s Roseluck. She’s a florist, from a town called Ponyville, wherever that is.
I literally sat next to her at the bar after my set; that’s when she recognized me. Green, if you thought she’d forget all about it, she hasn’t. Not at all. I had HB play the same remix I played for you that night. I saw her dance. She’s as over the moon as you are.
Oh, one more thing. She said to come to Ponyville and get your scarf. You’ll know what that means.
-Turn
Green Gables set the telegram down in shock. “I can’t believe it. She… remembers too?”
He turned and looked out the kitchen window, where in the far distance the port of Marecelona beckoned like never before.