Octavia’s music washed over the catwalks, the upbeat melodies dancing gaily through the air. The ponies that made up the unending crowds passed her by the same as always, but her smile remained. Today she played what she wanted. No covers of modern nonsense, no foolish flourishes, no pleas that the citizens of Manehattan spare her a few Bits, just her and her music.

Cheer and good spirits might not pay the bills, but today? She did not care. She simply played on, hitting each note with absolute perfection and a serene smile.

Nothing had really changed – she was still hungry, she was definitely still tired, and the muscles in her hind legs were already burning – but the simple kindness of that unicorn last night buoyed her up. In the back of her mind she knew that cold, hard reality would reassert itself soon enough, but, for now, she wanted to savor the feel—

“Oh no, oh no, oh no! Watch out down there!”

Octavia reacted quickly, dropping to all fours to cover her instrument. Boxes and envelopes rained down around her, many of them bouncing off her before hitting the walkway. The vast majority of them were lightweight and harmless, but that did not stop a few from stinging. Nor did it dull the pain from the crowd’s chortles and sniggers.

"Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!" a pegasus blurted out as she landed in front of Octavia, scrambling to collect the scattered parcels. One of the pegasus’ eyes seemed unfocused, making it hard to tell whether Octavia or the mail was her bigger concern. "Are you okay?"

Restraining a growl proved far more difficult than Octavia expected. She was in a good mood. She was happy. She was having a good day. She wouldn't let this ruin it. Besides, trying to kill this pegasus in view of a few hundred witnesses probably wouldn't go over well. "I'm fine," she managed in a tone that probably approached civility.

“That’s good!” the pegasus said, relief replacing concern on her face. "I’m really sorry! I don’t know what went wrong! I just lost my grip on my bag and then fwoosh! Unscheduled package shower! I was worried you might have gotten hurt.”

“Just my dignity,” Octavia mumbled as she unruffled her coat and picked her cello up. The pegasus seemed to be investing a lot more effort into the package collection than necessary: darting here and there, scrunching up her muzzle in a look of unnecessarily deep concentration, sticking her tongue out to focus... the pegasus looked absolutely ridiculous. Despite herself, Octavia chuckled.

"There! That’s the sound I wanted to hear!" The pegasus started collecting packages much more efficiently.

"What?"

"If you can still laugh, then you really are okay." The pegasus jammed the last of the parcels into her bag and offered a smile. "Super sorry!" she shouted, before launching herself off the catwalk and back into the air.

True enough, Octavia supposed. Even a belated chime from her BitCard didn't bother her as much as it had a few moments ago.

As she tried to stand up, something moved underhoof. Only a moment of desperate hoofwork and the support of her cello kept her standing. She drew her hoof back to send the offending object off the catwalk, but hesitated for a moment. She had expected a can or bottle, not a little, spherical stone. What little stone the station saw tended to be used for statuary on the hundredth tier.

The little stone fit comfortably in her hoof. It definitely seemed ponymade, and the lightning bolt carved into the dull, grey surface confirmed it.

Lightning. That brought back memories. She must have been a filly living on Trottingham Station that last time she had seen it. The pegasi tended to let storms wear themselves out on the agricultural stations before importing them to the big cities, ensuring the upper tiers never dealt with anything worse than a light drizzle.

Octavia considered tossing it in the nearest trash chute. It might be worth something at a pawn shop, but that made her responsible for it. She could turn it over to the guards, but she knew they would pawn it, then blame her for it disappearing. That made disposing of it the best choice.

It briefly crossed her mind that the pegasus might have dropped the rock. Unfortunately, if that was the case, she had no idea how to return it. Ask around the courier offices? Manehattan, big as it was, could not have too many wall-eyed pegasi in it. She just needed to figure out where the postal offices were and the best way to get to them.

She sighed and shoved the stone into one of her cello case’s pockets. Throwing it away just felt wrong after this recent outbreak of kindness she had encountered. Maybe later in the week, if things continued to be slow, she might be able to hunt down one of the offices and ask about the courier. At the moment, she needed to get back to work.

The rest of the day failed to yield even half as much as the impromptu comedy act with the pegasus had, but she could live with that.

Tonight she planned on eating for free.

~~~~~

"Delivery!" Ditzy Doo declared as she approached the reception desk. She'd been inside the council offices before, always with some parcel or another in need of delivery, but this place somehow never ceased to amaze her. So many ponies and so much effort, all dedicated to making sure the whole Empire worked.

"Great! Right on time!" A guard – she recognized him as Flash Sentry – rushed forward. He looked frazzled, his mane and wings appearing completely mussed. “You have the package, yes Ditzy?”

"Got it riiiiigh..." Ditzy continued to draw out the word as she rifled through her bag. After holding the word for a long moment, she stopped vocalizing and started digging more frantically. Another moment passed before she stopped completely. "Uh oh."

Flash's eyes widened, but he bit back an immediate response, first checking to make sure nopony else was nearby. Then, moving closer to her, he hissed, "What do you mean 'Uh oh,' Derpy?"

She cringed at the use of that title. "I, uh... I can't seem to find it..."

He dug his own forehooves into the bag to help her, pulling parcels out and dumping them on the tile floor. "Look harder! It has to be in here! It absolutely has to be!"

"I know it does! I made sure I packed it this morning! I triple checked that I had it!"

Flash finally pulled his hooves out of the bag. "Derpy, Councilor Shimmer is literally going to kill you,” he said, sitting back, “Right after she finishes with me. Think! Where could you have lost it? Is there any chance you just left it on your ship?"

"I—” Ditzy trailed off as she tried to think of where and when it could have vanished. “Oh. Oh! Oh! I know! I uh... I dropped my bag on the way over here. Maybe I lost it then?"

"You didn't check for it?" Flash snapped, slamming his hooves on the floor, the sharp crack overtaking the room’s noise for a moment.

Ditzy stepped back, folding her wings tightly against her sides. "I… I was pretty sure I counted them right..."

It took several deep breaths before Flash spoke again, “We need to find it as quickly as possible. Did you see anypony who might have picked it up?"

Ditzy had never seen Flash so worked up. Being a councilor’s personal guard must be pretty stressful. "Um. Well, nopony stopped to help me pick everything up,” Ditzy said. “Oh! But I did drop them on some street musician! Maybe she picked it up on accident?"

"That's... something I guess. Description? Please, please tell me you saw her cutie mark."

"Yeah!" Ditzy might not have been great at names, but, despite what people assumed, she at least had a talent for remembering ponies. "It was a... swooshy thing." She wilted under Flash’s glare. "Well, it was! I don't know what it's called. I could draw it for you."

"Fine. Let’s head up to one of the offices and see what we can figure out."

~~~~~

Octavia stared out the train’s window, watching the city pass by at a breakneck pace. She smiled as ponies passed by her seat, unwilling to try and fit next to both her and her instrument. Rude or not, she appreciated the small amount of personal space that her instrument protected.

She yawned and wondered once more if going out made sense. The morning’s euphoric joy had long since given way to lethargy, and the thought of spending an entire evening enduring flashing lights and magitronic noise played by some disc jockey with delusions of talent in some hole-in-the-wall near the shuttle docks did not exactly excite her.

At the same time, free food still sounded quite nice. An hour or two of moderate discomfort for the chance to gorge herself to her heart’s content – and maybe sneak a little home with her – sounded like a fair exchange.

As Octavia disembarked and struggled to force her way through the crowds, she remembered the adage about pride going before a fall. The club’s sign took up the entire width of the block, proudly declaring in shimmering, kaleidoscopic light that she had found Club Crazy Horse. That monstrosity put all but the most ostentatious displays in Eons Square to shame.

And the crowd! The walkway must have been expanded at some point to accommodate the hundreds of ponies waiting for their chance to reach the door. She doubted that she had performed for even a tenth-as-many ponies during the whole of her professional career.

Well, it was far too late to tuck her tail between her legs and canter home. Besides, she reasoned, trying to silence the voice that called her a vocation traitor, a club like this might have real food.

Putting on every air she had left, Octavia forced her way to the front of the line.

"Hey, little miss fancy pony," the bouncer grunted, noticing her much faster than she’d expected, “Back of the line.” He was a very, very large stallion and probably quite well-qualified for his job. Angry would not be a sufficient description for her feelings if the note didn’t work. She could only endure so much humiliation and embarrassment in a short span.

The bouncer sighed as Octavia presented the note. "Yes, that's this club. You can tell by the giant sign. Now if you would—"

Octavia rolled her eyes. "Other side," she said, her teeth still clamped around the paper. She tilted her head to the side to try and make it easier for him to read. Or encourage him to take it. Whichever ended this faster.

It took a moment of paper juggling, but the bouncer’s eyes finally opened wide and he nodded. "Sorry 'bout that, miss.” He stepped aside, ignoring the protestations from the ponies still trapped in line, and gestured at the double doors. “Head on in and they'll get you a badge."

“Thank you very much,” she said, smirking at the crowd as she walked in.

~~~~~

The evening continued to turn for Octavia. Despite her initial reluctance to even approach the club, her treatment so far brought back memories of better days. Skipping lines, instant and complete attention, ponies dropping everything to help her, free food and drink, badges that identified her as a very important pony…

“Is there anything else we can help you with, Miss Melody?” the attendant asked.

When was the last time someone had called her that? “Where would I go if I wanted to get something to eat?”

“Just turn left or right once you get inside and you’ll see some ramps up to the second level. We serve both food and drink at the tables up there. Anything else, Miss Melody?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you.”

“Then please, enjoy yourself!” the pony at the counter said.

The first thing that hit Octavia when she entered the club was the sound. Literally. The rolling waves of bass nearly knocked her off her hooves. Or maybe the lack of balance came from a stroke caused by the roving, strobing, chromatic light show that bathed the club floor. Add the pungent scent of sweat and alcohol to that, as well as the fact that the floor felt unpleasantly sticky, and this place managed to be an assault on almost every one of her senses at once.

Hopefully taste would work out better for her.

For just a moment her eyes fell on the stage, a raised platform in the center of the two story room, surrounded on all sides by ponies dancing with reckless abandon, and she caught a glimpse of the current act. Even at this distance she easily recognized the unicorn: same ridiculous blue mane, same stupid shades – did she ever take them off? – and the exact same obnoxious music.

Thanking her benefactor for her kindness before anything else was the polite thing to do, but, all things considered, Octavial felt it could wait.

She managed to make it across the club floor with minimal difficulty. The VIP badge possessed a magic all its own, causing ponies to step out of her way and make room. A few even smiled at her and offered a hoof in greeting; earth ponies, pegasi, and even unicorns all looked at her like she actually mattered.

To her surprise, the club’s noise slowly faded as she ascended the ramp. A barely visible shimmer in the air indicated the presence of magic, causing Octavia to recall the unicorn’s mention of a sound dampening spell. Maybe they used something like that here, too? By the time she reached the second level, she could actually hear snippets of conversation over the music.

She seated herself at an empty table near the railing where she could watch the stage while she ate. The unicorn might not have been an artist like Octavia, but she still deserved at least this much respect.

Barely a moment passed before a server trotted over to her table. "Hey there! Welcome to Crazy Horse!" the mare said. Her smile broadened when she saw the VIP badge. "Oh! I didn’t know we had a special guest tonight! Well, my name is Berry Punch and I’ll be taking care of you, okay?"

Octavia opted to cut straight to the heart of the matter. “This badge means I eat for free, correct?"

"Yes! Would you like me to fetch you a m—"

"Surprise me, please. Whatever you think is best."

"Gotcha! Drinks too?"

"Please."

“Great! That’s my specialty! You won’t be disappointed!”

Ignoring the grumble in her stomach, Octavia stared out over the club floor, watching ponies of every race dance to the pounding beats with the same reckless abandon that the unicorn on stage used in operating the multitude of devices on stage.

With the bombast dulled to the point Octavia could actually hear it, she had to admit that the unicorn on stage had a modicum of talent. She might not have been a musical genius, but she certainly had passion. She worked the devices on stage like a mare possessed, and, as the thunderous basslines gave way to softer, more delicate sounds, she even found herself enjoying the atmosphere. Between the hypnotic patterns of the lights and the trance-like melodies, she began to appreciate why so many ponies enjoyed this club. It was as if that unicorn on stage could make every other thing in the universe disappear...

"'Scuse me, miss?" Berry Punch said in a tone indicating she’d asked at least once before.

Octavia started. The server stood at the edge of the table, clutching a tray overladen with food in her mouth. “Oh, my apologies!” she said, moving her legs so the tray could be set down, “I was… I was lost in thought.”

“No worries! Happens all the time around here!” Berry Punch quickly shifted everything from tray to table. "Here you are. The house special salad, made with only the freshest greens and fruits from Ponyville Station, our cherry tomato and pepper pasta, and a selection of freshly baked breads and butter. Accompanying all that is a bottle of Sweet Apple Acres’ Reserve Cider, a bottle of Jubilee Cherry Cider, and, of course, some of our very own sparkling water! If this all doesn’t blow you away, your taste buds are defective!"

Octavia wondered if the server could even do anything other than smile. It actually bothered her a little. Had Line’s dour countenance really become her measuring stick for customer service? "I’m sure it will. Thank you."

"No problem! Remember, you need anything, just holler, okay?"

"Yes." The response sounded more curt than Octavia intended, but she could barely keep her mouth from watering as she stared at the heaps of food in front of her. The salad was enormous and the components... it all looked like actual, honest-to-Celestia greens. It even had fruits and flowers in it! And every inch of it was drenched in a delightfully fragrant raspberry vinaigrette. And the bread! Wonderfully soft and warm... there was even real butter with it. Real butter!

As she sampled the delicacies laid out before her, Octavia felt she could die happy, a mare completely satisfied with her life.

She could worry about how pathetic that seemed later.

~~~~~

"Alright my little bronies!" Vinyl shouted, the speakers making sure she could be heard over the tail end of her last track, "You're all too bucking much for me to handle, so I'm gonna turn the stage over to Neon Lights!" The roar that tore through the club could probably be felt all the way at the top of the city. "Don't let him off easy!"

"As if a quiet crowd like this would be a problem for me!" the unicorn said as he stepped up on stage, loosening the top buttons on his shirt. "What do you all say? Are you ready to really bring the noise?"

Vinyl couldn't contain her grin as the crowd endeavored to be even louder this time.

She hoof-bumped Neon as he took control of the turntables and switchboards with his magic, completing the transition without dropping a single beat.

Her legs shook as she stepped offstage, the strain of managing the club’s lighting and sound system catching up with her. She’d nearly used up her magic and her voice was on the verge of giving out, but she didn’t care. If she hadn’t promised to give Neon some extra stage time this month, she’d have gladly stayed up there all night.

One of the bouncers caught her attention and waved her over.

"Yo, Aces! What up?" She had to shout to have a chance of being heard, even this far from the stage.

He pointed at the upper level. "That mare you asked us to watch for turned up! She's upstairs right now!"

"Awesome!" Vinyl felt a second wind coming on. "Bucking great! Thanks!"

"No problem!"

Vinyl couldn't contain her grin. She liked bringing new ponies to Crazy Horse. Everypony deserved to have a little fun, and that mare? Probably needed it a bit more than most. Waving off all the attempts by various ponies to catch her attention, she quickly trotted up the ramp.

She figured it'd be tricky to spot her target in tonight’s crowd, but, by Luna, that grey mare stood out. Sitting at a little table all by herself, with a perfectly groomed mane, and pink bow-tie? Vinyl could have picked her out from across the room.

As she approached, she noticed the giant instrument case sitting next to her. The mare played music too?

Vinyl hesitated when she saw the mare eating. She might have looked like one of the station’s many snobs, but she ate like it was the first meal she'd seen in ages. Her grin faltered and, for a moment, considered just letting the mare eat. At the same time, it just didn’t seem right to let her personal VIP eat alone.

"Looks like you're enjoying yourself!" Vinyl said, claiming the seat next to her. She offered a couple friendly smacks on the the mare’s back to keep from choking as she inhaled a bit of food.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" the mare managed, still trying to catch her breath.

"I wasn’t exactly sneaking, you know."

The mare took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "I suppose you're right."

Vinyl nodded, offering her hoof. "Anyway, since we never got a chance to do this right last night. The name's Vinyl Scratch. Or DJ Pon-3. Whichever you like better!”

"Octavia Melody, Miss Scratch. Thank you for inviting me."

"Vinyl’s fine,” she insisted. “Anyway, it was no big thing, Octavia. Besides, if I hadn't done something nice for you, I might not have survived last night!"

Octavia's face reddened.

"Not too often I get some strange pony pounding on my door, threatening to kill me. Physical advances? Sometimes. Physical threats? Very rarely. All the news programs would have had a field day, though. Manehattan’s best DJ strangled by… crazed fan? Ex-lover? Insane stalker? Not really sure what they’d label you as. Probably depends on which one picked it up first.”

"I did not actually intend to hurt you. It was simply a bit of necessary hyperbole to express my dissatisfaction with the incredibly vexing manner in which I was awakened."

Vinyl stared at Octavia over the top of her shades.

"Oh! Sorry. Do you need me to define any of those words for you?" The corners of Octavia's lips were turned up in the barest hints of a smirk. “I’d be more than happy to.”

A short burst of laughter escaped from Vinyl. "You’re funny! I wouldn’t have expected that!" She poked at the badge dangling from Octavia's bow-tie. "You do remember who got you that badge, right?" For just a fraction of a second, Octavia looked worried, but her smile returned when she realized Vinyl’s own grin hadn’t dropped. "Anyway, you having fun? Enjoying the food?"

"It is much better than I would have expected."

"I bet that’s quite the compliment coming from you." Glancing out over the railing, Vinyl asked, "You been out on the dance floor yet?"

"No." Octavia tried to be subtle about it, but Vinyl noticed her continuing to pick at the nearly empty plates. "I wasn't really planning to."

"Really? Because I noticed your hoof has been tapping along to the beat since I sat down."

The way Octavia glared at her treacherous limb amused Viny. “I will admit that, despite my initial misgivings, I have found the music here to be a little catchy.”

“If you think Neon is good, then you must have thought my set was mind blowing.”

“You were passable.”

"Oh, wow. That cuts deep, Octavia.” Vinyl mimed a pained expression. “You know what?” she said, poking the badge dangling from Octavia's bow-tie again, “You seem way, way too refined to refuse an invitation from such a gracious host as me."

"A gracious host would respect their guest enough not to ask them to do something they did not want to do." The smile that continued to hang around Octavia’s lips told a different story, though.

Vinyl shrugged. "Your mostly gracious host then. How about I treat you to some dessert and a couple more rounds, and then we appreciate Neon’s music the way it was meant to be appreciated?"

“Wasn’t all my food and drink already free?”

That actually gave Vinyl a bit of a pause. “Well, uh... since this is my club, they’re technically on me to begin with. So how about it?”

“How about we see how I feel in a little bit?”

“Good enough for me! Hey, Berry! Couple more rounds over here! And some cake!”

“Sure thing!” the hostess called back.

After a moment, Octavia’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. Did you say this was your club?”

“Yep! Crazy Horse is all mine.” Vinyl nodded her thanks to Berry as the drinks were delivered, then continued, “You thought I was just a headliner, huh? I can’t blame you. Musical genius, a keen business sense, and good looks? Too much for one pony to have.” After a moment of thought, Vinyl added, “And I’m a beast on the dance floor.”

“Humble too.”

“Yeah.” Vinyl cracked the top off one of the bottles and passed it over before taking one for herself. “Though, seriously, I mostly just handle the beats. There’s no way I’d be able to run this place without a lot of help.”

Octavia took a long drink before she spoke again. “Let me get this straight. You are a unicorn.”

“Last I checked.”

“You own what appears to be a very popular club.”

“Number three on the station, according to Manehattan Night Life.”

“You can afford to give away fresh food like this.”

“On special occasions.”

“Do you mind if I ask why in Tartarus you live in the same housing block as me?”

“Oh.” That question caught Viny off-guard. “Well, you know. Lot of snobs live up near the top of the city.” Noticing the odd look from Octavia, she just waved the question off. “Anyway, I’d much rather know more about you.”

“Me?” Octavia looked taken aback.

“Yeah! Like, are you a musician?” Vinyl asked, pointing at the case that was leaning up against the railing. “Where do you play?”

“Oh.” Octavia fell silent, staring at the half-empty mug in front of her. “Well—”

The club went silent.

Vinyl whipped around in her seat, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Had the system shorted? No. Each piece of the sound system had been enveloped in a magical shell. It looked like a much sloppier version of her own dampening spell. The crowd hadn't needed magical intervention; the sudden silence stopped them dead in their tracks.

A moment later, the lights all flicked on and assumed their neutral settings, allowing Vinyl to find the source of the problem: a group of guards stood near the front door, with a familiar blue unicorn at their head, berating one of her bouncers. "Bucking Tartarus,” Vinyl groaned. She turned back to Octavia and offered the mare an apologetic smile. “‘Scuse me, Octavia. I have some other guests who are going to be far, far less fun to talk with. I’ll be back in a flash!"

Vinyl swore repeatedly to herself as she descended the ramp. Of all the nights for her to show up, she wished it had not been tonight. Someponies had no sense of timing.

"The great and powerful Commander Lulamoon demands that the owner of this filthy establishment—"

"Yo! What is it, Trixie?” Vinyl interrupted, pulling the unicorn’s attention from a very grateful Aces. Nopony wanted a member of the Council Guard shouting them down. Rumors persisted that if you talked to one of them the wrong way? You disappeared. “You do know you and your thugs are kinda killing the mood here, right?"

"Oh. Right. Commander Lulamoon had forgotten this little hole was yours, Vinyl." Trixie stepped forward, stopping just short of touching Vinyl’s muzzle with her own. "We're here to arrest a criminal. Some filthy groundling mare."

Vinyl's eyes narrowed behind her shades. "I don't want to hear that kinda bull in my club, Trixie. The rules apply to everyone here.”

"That is Commander Lulamoon to you, Vinyl."

Vinyl knew she was pushing it, but she wasn't going to let this arrogant little bully have her way. "Fine. I don't want to hear that kinda bull in my club, Commander Lulamoon," she said, practically spitting the word.

The guards watched stoically as Trixie tried to stare Vinyl down, an impossible feat given the protection her shades offered. "Trixie recommends you watch your tone."

“And I recommend you hurry up,” Vinyl countered, tapping her hoof impatiently. "I don't have all night, Commander Lulamoon. You were looking for an earth pony? There's a bunch here, so I’m gonna need a bit more than that to go on."

"A grey mare. Dark mane. Treble clef for a…” Trixie trailed off and sighed. “Right, you are an undereducated hack. You wouldn’t know what a treble clef is. Does one of you have the picture?”

“I know what a treble clef is. Some sort of musical note thing.”

“Fine. A treble clef cutie mark. We believe her name is Octavia Melody. Have you seen her?"

Vinyl glanced up at the ceiling. She hadn’t expected that. Did the mare upstairs really seem like the sort to be getting in trouble with the Council Guard? "Nope. Can't think of anypony matching that description."

~~~~~

Octavia strained to hear the conversation, absolutely dumbstruck. The Council Guard wanted her? Her heart pounded and her chest felt tight. Ponies they arrested tended to vanish.

She could feel eyes on her the moment Commander Lulamoon described her. She did her best to keep her cutie mark out of sight, but it was probably too late for that now. Eventually somepony would work up the nerve to get Commander Lulamoon’s attention and point her out, then she would be—

"Maybe you should go," Berry Punch whispered, nudging her.

"What?"

"I really doubt Vinyl would want her special guest to get in trouble, and you look an awful lot like that mare they're after." She winked and waved a hoof towards the kitchen door. "There are some stairs back there that'll take you down to storage. There’s a door down there that lets out onto the next tier."

~~~~~

Vinyl smirked as she continued, “Guess you got your information all wrong, huh?” Watching Trixie get annoyed amused her.

"Everypony is to exit this club right now!" Trixie shouted, raising her voice to make sure everypony in the club heard jer. "You will be questioned as you leave and then—"

"No they won't, Trixie," Vinyl growled, keeping her own voice much lower. "You are way out of line here. You might be able to intimidate them, but I'm not an idiot. I've answered your questions. You're done." Vinyl prodded her in the chest for emphasis as she continued, "Get out before I report you for harassing my customers." Turning and offering a disrespectful flick of her tail, Vinyl started back towards the stage. The lance of magical energy that crackled by her, gouging away a chunk of the laminated floor, came as an unwelcome surprise. "What the—?"

Trixie said, grinning as crimson magic crackled around her horn. “That was a mistake, Vinyl. Commander Lulamoon shall arrest you on charges of obstructing justice, assaulting a guard, and whatever other offenses she can come up with!"

Panic erupted behind Vinyl as ponies hit the floor, looked for cover, or tried to make it out the door. “What the buck are you doing, Trixie? You’re gonna start a freakin’ riot!”

“So?” Trixie gestured and the guards behind her dispersed to try and corral the panicking crowd. "Now Vinyl, since you were once Trixie’s friend, she'll give you one more chance. Where is the groundling?"

Vinyl didn't have a lot of magic left, but if Trixie wanted to charge her with assault, then she might as well enjoy it. Besides, she wasn’t about to let that slur pass again. "Fine. You win. I'll tell you. Just calm down, okay?"

"Oh? Trixie did not expect you to see sense, Vinyl. It seems you've gotten smarter."

"Yeah, yeah, I’ve definitely learned a thing or two since school," Vinyl grumbled, watching carefully as the guards reigned the crowd in with a minimum of fuss. Hopefully somepony on staff took care of Octavia while she had Trixie’s attention. "All right, if you go look on stage? You’ll find the mare you’re looking for right next to my BASS CANNON!" Vinyl emphasized her point by conjuring a rolling wave of sound directly at Trixie, the floor buckling as the deafening roar passed over it.

Which is why Vinyl’s jaw dropped when the wave hit Trixie and dissipated harmlessly. She smirked as the magic around her horn crackled and the clasp she wore on the front of her cloak glowed.

"Buck me," Vinyl managed before the retaliatory blast from Trixie hit her.

~~~~~

Things were moving too fast for Octavia to deal with. One moment she’d been enjoying a nice dinner and conversation, the next she’d been ready to bail out the back to save her flank, and the next the club had descended into pure chaos. This was ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous!

She glanced back at the kitchen door. She had to get out of the club as quickly as possibly. The longer she stayed, the more her chances of escape declined. But... She watched as the magical blast slammed into Vinyl and sent the unfortunate unicorn flipping into the air. The sound of her limp body hitting the floor with all the grace of a rag doll seemed to drown out all the other noises in the room.

Octavia turned away and looked at the door again.

Vinyl made her choice. She decided to mouth off to the commander of the Council Guard. That mistake was fully, completely, and absolutely on her. Octavia did not owe her a single thing. Nothing. She needed to worry about herself. Experience had taught her that doing anything else just came back to kick you in the flank.

She just needed to sneak out that door.

Just trot over to the door and leave.

She sighed and hefted her cello case.

~~~~~

Vinyl's world spun sickeningly as she struggled to get her hooves back under her. The problem was she couldn't figure out how many of them there were. Or how they worked. Or which ones were hers. Somepony spoke.

"Trixie figured you would try something stupid, Vinyl. She just didn’t expect it to be quite so pathetic."

There was some sort of prodding sensation in the area of what was probably her face.

"Poor little Vinyl. Trixie wonders how sad it must be to not have a friend left in the whole Empire. So many ponies in your little club, and not a single one of them is going to bail you out this time.”

Some small part of Vinyl's brain managed to fire correctly. She offered a lopsided smile as she stared past the irritating blue shape in front of her. "Nuh uh. I gots a pretty alicorn princess lookin' out for me."

Trixie sneered as she leaned closer to Vinyl. "Oh dear. Trixie must have overdone it and scrambled what little brains you have in that thick skull of—"

~~~~~

Despite herself, Octavia smiled as her back hooves connected with Commander Lulamoon's side, lifting the unicorn off the ground and sending her tumbling across the club floor. She would be much less satisfied when the comeuppance for that decision arrived, but at the moment? This little strike back at society felt immensely satisfying.

Leaning down, she offered Vinyl a hoof. "Come on, get up! We really need to go!"

The unicorn smiled inappropriately as she responded, "How many ponies got a pretty alicorn lookin’ out for ‘em, eh?"

Octavia gritted her teeth. They needed to run before the guards noticed what had just happened, or worse, Commander Lulamoon got back on her hooves. Thankfully, being an earth pony actually came in handy sometimes. "Hold on as tightly as you can, okay?" She hoped that the noise Vinyl made was some sort of agreement as she slid her hooves under the unicorn and hefted, throwing the unicorn onto her back.

Octavia then took off at a full sprint. Out the door, through the crowd of stunned onlookers, and into the city’s ramps and walkways.

She felt a foreleg tighten around her neck. Great. She might manage to avoid bouncing Vinyl over a railing. She wondered how long she could keep this pace up, though. Her legs were already starting to burn. Vinyl might have been lighter than she had expected, but she was still dead weight.

They needed to get lower as quickly as possible. Headed towards their housing block seemed stupid, but she barely knew anything about this side of the city. Navigating Manehattan required patience, experience, and time to visit the kiosks that littered the city.

Her eyes lit up as she spotted a welcome sight in the distance: a lift shaft. Judging by the size, it must have been a worker lift too. Large, fast, and, most importantly, limited stops on the way down to the city’s bottom level. The descending lift had perfect timing

She redoubled her pace, ignoring the protests of her body.

"It'd be a lot easier if you just flew," Vinyl mumbled.

"It would be a lot easier if you carried yourself," Octavia gasped. "Now, for the love of Celestia and Luna both, hold on!"

The only response she received was legs tightening wherever they could on her body. Please, Celestia, let that be enough, she prayed as she summoned up the last of her strength and hurdled the catwalk rail as the lift passed it.

Her legs buckled as she hit the lift’s metallic floor, but she managed to keep her hooves under her. Ignoring the pain, she glanced back to make sure both her loads remained safe and sound.

“See? Flying: easier,” Vinyl mumbled.

With nowhere to run for a few moments – not that she could even if she wanted to – she tried to take stock of the situation. It was tough between the ragged, heaving breaths and the shaking of her legs, but she had an easy starting place at least: the half dozen dumbstruck ponies staring at her.

"You... uh... really could have just used one of the normal lifts, you know," a large, ruddy stallion said, eying her.

"Nice jump," another offered.

"Doctor," Octavia managed between breaths, "Emergency." Running from the guards only made half a plan. She did not know much about medicine, but she knew enough to know that Vinyl sounded like a pony who needed her head examined.

"For the horn? You could do us all a favor and just dump her off the l—" the mare stopped short as Octavia's eyes narrowed. "Uh. I mean that I dunno. All the clinics are gonna be closed this late."

She could feel a bit of space open between her and the other ponies as she looked at each in turn. She probably looked like a mare possessed at the moment.

An older, ash colored stallion finally broke the silence. "I think there's a pony down on the third tier who takes late night emergencies sometimes? Not a real doctor, mind you, but beggars can’t be choosers. My cousin told me he took his son there once. Building C, room one, I think?"

That did not sound particularly promising, but like he said: beggars could not be choosers. Besides, if she wanted to lay low, nothing beat the bottom of the city. “Thank you,” she said, slumping to the floor of the lift.