Trix of the Trade - Chapter 18

>Tuesday evening.
>Backstage.
>Ten minutes before Trixie’s first real live stage performance.
>And she is flipping out.
>For the past couple days, she has faced this with confidence. Using as much time as she could to prepare for this moment.
>Now, she’s pacing back and forth in the small white room she was given to prepare. She glances at the mirror on the opposite side of the door inbetween barking orders at you.
>”Trixie needs water.”
>”Fetch Trixie her brush.” When it is a foot away from her.
>”Good, now brush the mane.”
>”Ugh, can you do anything right? Fetch Trixie another glass of water!”
>”NO! Trixie will not need to use the little filly’s room. She is an adult!”
>It grinded on your nerves so hard, and normally you wouldn’t do any of this for her, but tonight is special. You need her in the best mood possible.
>But apparently, that wasn’t working. She glanced at the mirror for a few seconds before letting out a loud groan and falling against the wall next to it. Once her rump hit the ground, she began using a hoof to fan herself.
“Trixie?” You call with another cup of water in hand.
>She ignores you and begins to lightly pant.
“Trixie, are you-“
>”Why here? Why did you have to make Trixie perform at such a horrible location? Trixie should be on a stage in front of thousands.” You see sweat beginning to form on her brow. “But here. Why here? We should leave and find a better venue.”
>You take a few steps closer and kneel down to her level.
“You would die from nervousness if I got you something like that. Here,” You reach out an arm, handing the cup to her.
>She takes it in a magical grasp and downs it instantly.
“Besides, what’s so bad about this place?”
>”What’s so bad?” She mimics.

>She tosses the cup aside. Thankfully, it’s only plastic.
>”Do you not notice where we are!? We’re in a stupid children’s resturaunt!”
>Ah, yes. The most undesirable location to perform at, save for a gentlecolt’s club. So it COULD be worse. But… It ain’t great.
>You give her a shrug.
“It could be worse.” She opens her mouth to object, but you cut her off. “And we both know that.”
>She sighs after a second, and then goes back to fanning herself.
“Hey, Trixie.” Once again, no response. “Trixie!”
>Raising your voice causes her to stop and look at you with a worried expression.
“Calm down.” You place a hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. Okay?”
>She takes a slow, deep breath, and lets it out even slower.
>”Okay… Okay.” Her breathing evens out and quiets. She then slowly reaches a hoof up, resting it upon your hand.
>”Thank-“
>Trixie is abruptly cut off by a knocking at the door.
>”Trixie shall not be disturbed before a show! Leave at once!”
>The knocking only continues.
“I’ll get it.”
>Trixie slightly grimaces as you pull your hand out from under her hoof and stand up.
>You take a few strides and crack open the door.
>White and electric blue peek through.
>Vinyl. Of all the times…
>You haven’t seen much of her since lunch a few days ago. She’s been doing… whatever it is she does.
>You crack the door open a little more.
“Hey, Vinyl. What’s up? Here to wish-“
>”Hey, hey, hey. I finally set a meeting up with that club owner guy.”
“Oh, you did?” You lean your head a little closer. “When?”
>”Now.”
“No, like, when is the meeting.”
>”Now. Tonight. We need to go, dude.”
>Whoa whoa whoa. Red light.

“Hold on. Seriously? You know I can’t. Trixie’s perform-“
>”Your job is to set it up, and stuff. You did that. Her job is to perform. She doesn’t need you for that. So come on, let’s go.” She speaks quickly and nervously.
>You sigh before stepping outside of the room and closing the door behind you.
“I’m not going, Vinyl. I can’t believe you would pick NOW of all times.”
>”Whoa, hey.” She sits on her rumps and holds two hooves up defensively. “I didn’t choose the time and date. It’s just bad luck, is all.”
“No kidding. Sorry, Vinyl. I can’t.”
>”Aw come ooon!”
>You only close your eyes and shake your head.
>”Pleeease?” She holds two hooves together in a pleading fashion.
>You once again shake your head.
>”Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!?”
>Is she seriously begging like this?
“No-“
>She latches onto your leg, furiously nuzzling a little too close to… Well, it’s safe to say that this is very uncomfortable.
>”Please, please, please, please,” She just keep going and going like a child.
>A few staff members walk by, making this experience all the most awkward.
“Vinyl.”
>”Please, please, please, please, please, plea-“
“Fine!”
>Her face lights up with a huge smile before she pushes herself off and pumps her hoof in victory.
“Later.”
>”Huh?” Her celebration is cut short.
“I’m not going to miss Trixie’s show, so you and the club owner are going to have to wait.”
>”But-“
“That’s final, Vinyl.”
>Heh, that rhymed.
>”Ugh, fiiiine. Hopin’ to Celestia he’s patient for once. Oh, by the way you rhymed there.”
“I know.” You look back to the door. “Alright, I need to talk to Trixie. We’ll talk after the show.”
>Vinyl only elicits an impatient growl as you step back inside the room.

>And of course, Trixie wasn’t happy…
>She was impatiently tapping her hoof while glaring at you.
“Sorry, I-“
>”Trixie heard exactly who it was. Hmph!” She averts her gaze. “So what did she want? More money from you without anything in return?”
>Not money, but… Kinda, yeah.
“She, uh… was only wishing you good luck.”
>”Ah.”
>Great. What was supposed to an encouraging pre-show talk is now an awkward silence.
>Now there are only a few minutes before the show, and there’s still one more thing to do.
“Alright, I’d better go find my seat. Good luck out there, Trixie.”
>A small grin spreads across her face. “It’s bad luck to wish somep0ny good luck, Anonymous.”
“… Is that true?”
>”Of course not, now,” She dismissively waves you away. “Go. Trixie must make her final preparations and she doesn’t need you distracting her.”
“Are you sure? A few seconds ago you were freaking out.”
>She smugly chuckles to herself.
>”Of course, maintaining such composure is an old Lulamoon family secret.” Her voice dies off to a whisper near the end of her statement.
>You can’t help yourself from rolling your eyes at her cheesiness.
>”If things go well tonight, Trixie might let you in on the secret.” She passes you a wink and gives her hips a playful little shake.
“Hehehe, alright. We’ll talk after the show.”
>”Perhaps.” She turns back to the mirror. “Trixie will obviously be swarmed with adoring fans, so you may have to wait your turn!”

>A moment later, you exit Trixie's changing room and go to find a seat. To your surprise, a small booth off to the side is reserved for you.
>On your way, you see the owner of the establishment, what was his name? Bart O’ Bits? Yeah, you think so… You see him sitting in a nearby booth, one hoof wrapped around a lovely looking mare, and another around a young colt. You figure that’s his family, and you figure it’s best not to disturb him. So as you pass, you only give him a thumbs-up, which he returns with a nod.
>You take your seat afterwards, taking a moment to get comfortable. The seats are small and shaped for ponies, but you’ve grown accustomed to it over time.
>Soon enough, the lights dim, and the crowd of forty or so ponies quiets to whispers and shushes.
>You lean forward in anticipation. While you may be excited about this, you’re nervous as well. You keep your attention focused on stage until something slides into your booth and bumps into you.
>”It won’t take long, right?” Vinyl has quietly snuck into the booth with you and positioned herself uncomfortably close, and your personal space while sitting only consists of butt wiggle room.
“I don’t know, Vinyl. You’re just going to have to wait.”
>She begins to let out a long groan before someone loudly shushes her.
>”Hey! Who did that?!” Vinyl attempts to stand on the seat on hind legs, but you push her back down before she makes things worse.

“Chill. I know you’re anxious to get going, but you need to learn some patience. Trixie is my priority, so you gotta deal with it.”
>”Urgh, fiiiiiiiiiiine…”
>She slowly slides down in her seat, quietly groaning all the way.
“Is something wrong? You seem… on edge.”
>”It’s been a few days.”
“Since?”
>”Since… Sweet Celestia, I’m starving. Does this place serve grub? I could eat… you. I could eat something as big as you.”
“Well,” You grab one of the small menus lying on the table. “The primary thing to eat here is… pizza.”
>Oh, how you missed pizza. You will never have a supreme or pepperoni or stuffed crust pizza ever again. Surprisingly enough, the veggie pizzas in Equestria were a lot better than the ones on Earth. Still, there are better things to eat.
“Salad too, I guess.”
>”Order me a pizza or six.”
>You glower down at her.
>”Come ooon.”
“We’ll pick up a small snack on our way to your meeting. I’m starving, myself, but I’m running low on bits and we DO want to get there as soon as possible.”
>”You raise a good point, fair gentlecolt. If only-“
>Vinyl shuts up, or you start blocking her out when a hissing sound originates from the stage.
>Purple smoke begins to slowly seep onto the stage from both sides, drawing murmurs from the crowd.
>As the smoke meets in the center, it begins to swirl and rise.
>It’s then you realize what Trixie’s trying to do.
>Entrance number thirteen. Subtle, easy, and impresses easier.

>As the swirling smoke rises high enough, Trixie’s cape flares out from underneath as she rises to her extravagant two-legged presentation stance.
>The crowd lightly applauds before Trixie drops down on all hooves, and gives the crowd a sultry look before taking a dramatic pose.
>”Greetings, fillies and colts, stallions and mares of Fillydelphia. It is I, The Great and Powerful Trrrrixie!”
>You can’t suppress a quiet chuckle and small lurch of excitement. You love the way Trixie rolls her R’s. And it’s been a while since you’ve heard it, so your reaction was… not so subtle.
>That became even more obvious as Trixie’s glanced and smirked at you as the crowd applauded once again.
>Haha… Good thing it’s so dark, or Trixie would notice this blush.
>You look down at Vinyl as she nudges you in the gut. She gives you this little grin that makes your embarrassment exponentially greater. You’re fucking neon blushing at this point.
>Fucking Trixie. Fucking Vinyl.
>The applause dies down, and Trixie goes on about how she will amaze and inspire awe. It’s not long until a foal or two yawns in boredom. They don’t want speeches. They want cool stuff to happen.
>You wave Trixie down, and give her the signal to move on from the speech.
>”Er… Without further ado, let the show… BEGIN!” She finishes her sentence. Her horn flares up with magic, and the entire room is quickly covered in the empty void she has been meticulously practicing for the past few days. A combination of startled screams, excited laughter, and ‘Ooooo’s sound from the crowd.
>Trixie chuckles and makes a playful remark to the frightened children before beginning the routine.

>Trixie began what felt like a song and dance routine, without the song and dance. She would start off strong, as usual. She took the smoke that lightly drifted across the stage and formed it into a snakelike steam that swirled around her, then the audience. Most ponies took a swipe as the smoke as it passed by, allowing it quickly dissipate.
>She continues with a series of flashy spells. No explosions, as you both agreed on.
>Halfway into the show, she began to mellow the spells out. Previously, you worried about when Trixie began to lower the intensity of her show, but she came up with an idea. She wouldn’t dare to finish the show on a low note. Not anymore. She would use a period like this to recuperate her own energy.
>Trixie replaces her hat on top of her head after pulling an audience member out of it.
>”Hmhm… I believe you can find your way back to your seat.”
>The stallion on stage has apparently adopted some sort of stage fright, and remains frozen.
>”Ahem… Come now, handsome. The stage can be all yours the next time you’re doing a magic show.”
>Both Trixie and the crowd chuckle as she lightly pushes him offstage.
>Once the crowd settles, Trixie wipes the non-existent sweat off her brow.
>”My, my, my. Trixie does not think she’s had a better audience in her entire career! But you ARE awfully tiring. None of you would have an issue if Trixie took a quick moment to recuperate, would you?”
>No one had a chance to respond before Trixie disappeared in a small poof a smoke.
>You heard a few mummers and gasps before you heard Trixie’s voice come from one of the booths on the right side of the room.
>”Ooh, now this is comfy!”

>Trixie has teleported herself between two foals and their parents.
>”Trixie should watch magic shows more often, don’t you think?”
>She disappears again.
>Then the feeling of something pressed against you comes from nowhere.
>”Ah, is this a drink for Trixie? You’re too kind.”
>The small cup of water in front of you is levitated to Trixie’s snout. She doesn’t seem to even glance at you, but she’s giving Vinyl a look to make her look visibly upset.
>Trixie then sets the drink down and disappears once again.
>”… I don’t get you, dude. She’s a total jerk.”
“We’ve been over this a few times, haven’t we?”
>”And I’m still not satisfied with your answers.”
>”Well, well, well. Who is this attractive stallion I just HAPPENED to appear next to?” Trixie’s voice rang out from behind you.
>You turn to look, and sure enough, Trixie was getting a little too friendly with a lonely stallion in the back. The look she was giving him… it’s not going to be a quiet night, tonight.
>Trixie continues to talk to the stallion, but you subconsciously to block it out and sink into your seat a little.
>You hear the crowd laugh a couple times at something Trixie says to the stallion. Ha, jokes on them. She’s probably bringing him back to the wagon for a entertaining evening.
>Yes, joke. As in funny.
>”Yo,” Vinyl whispers. “What’s up with you?”
“Trixie.” You fold your arms and roll your eyes. “The way she’s talking to the stallion. Totally unprofessional. And I’m not exactly looking forward to Trixie bringing company back to the wagon. She’s loud, if you catch my drift.”
>”… So she likes to sleep around, huh?”
“Don’t tell her I said anything.”

>”Pfff,” Vinyl scoots close once again. “Dunno why you would put up with that crap. It’s her room, but she could at least show some courtesy.” She contemplatively places a hoof on her chin. “Come to think of it, you seriously get the shittiest end of the stick.”
“Hm?”
>”How can you not think so? I mean, you’ve seen her room, right?”
“Yeah.”
>”And you’ve seen your room, I bet.”
“… Ah.”
>”Uh huh. Try an’ tell me that isn’t bucked up, dude.”
>You remain silent. The obvious answer is yes, it is fucked up. You suppose you simply got used to it and didn’t pay it any mind. Now that Vinyl brings it up, you remember just how bad your sleeping situation is. You could just shrug it off and say to yourself, ‘Gee whiz! At least I have a roof over my head and food in my stomach!’ But that’s stupid. You don’t think you deserve a life of extravagance, but you deserve more than a large broom closet. And Trixie has been making all this talk of you two being closer, or whatever, but every night she still sleeps in her huge bed in a huge room, while you don’t even have enough room to lay flat. The least she could do is offer to enlarge the room, or something. Is that possible? Make it a little bigger, charge a few extra bits a month. Or something similar to that. You’ll need to look into it.
>Oh. Trixie has gotten back on stage once again. With a volunteer. The stallion.
>Yep. You know where this is going.

>Trixie does a few tricks with the volunteer.
>You’re not really paying much attention anymore. You feel tired all of a sudden, or something.
>Vinyl catches your attention once again with a nudge.
>”You know what I miss?”
“What’s that?”
 >”Manehatten. Canterlot was cool and all, but Manehatten,”
>Vinyl began to tell you fantastic stories of partying and adventure in Manehatten.
>Meanwhile, Trixie carefully watched the two of you out of the corner of her eye.
>She knows she should be focusing on the show. She keeps trying to flush all these thoughts of jealousy out of her mind. But watching you pay more attention to Vinyl than her, your client and friend, hurts. Not nearly enough to hurt her performance. Trixie is a strong pony, she won’t break down simply from seeing an unpleasant sight. And feeling an unpleasant emotion.
>Envy is a disgusting creature.
>Yet, the show goes on.
>Trixie dismisses her assistant, and prepares to set up the grand finale. It’s too early and it may feel out of place, but Trixie is losing concentration and patience. Especially with Vinyl.
>The magical vines. They worked so well previously. You may have warned Trixie against repeated spells, but she's more interested in getting you away from Vinyl.
>Trixie takes a punctual stance as the white magical tendrils seep out from her horn. They connect with the ground, spreading across the floor like roots. They climb every surface, stopping as they get too close to any of the ponies.

>The ponies become hypnotized by the tips of magic lightly waving in their faces. Some lightly bat at it, others give it a entranced gaze.
>Except two. You and Vinyl.
>Sure you noticed, but Vinyl’s tale of how she got a Lamia inside a motel room is a hell of a lot more interesting.
>And this offends Trixie.
>It isn’t easy, but she manages to control one tentacle and give you a stiff jab in the back of the neck.
>You let out a quiet yelp and rub the spot on your neck before turning your attention to Trixie.
>”Rude.” Vinyl says under her breath. You give her a quick nod in agreement.
>Trixie then quickly withdraws the magical vines, taking the void-like magic with it. It takes a few seconds for the ponies to understand exactly what happened, but once they do, applause breaks out.
>Despite your current frustration with Trixie, you applaud with the crowd. Vinyl reluctantly joins in as well.
>Trixie disappears backstage soon enough and most ponies begin stirring from their seats, ready to go.
>Vinyl nearly jumps out of the booth, then collapses on the floor.
>”Let’s… Let’s go!”
“One sec,” You scoot out of the booth yourself and step over Vinyl, attempting to intercept Bart O’ Bits before he disappears in the crowd. As you approach, he separates himself from his family, with the same idea in mind.
>”Well, well… She was quite an impressive little magician. You’ve got a talented mare at your side, Anonymous.”
“Thank-“
>”But!” He holds up a hoof to stop you. “My son said her show was too short, and she was a little boring at times. I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“Uhm… Ahem, We-I’ll talk to Trixie about it. Your critique is very-“
>”Please, don’t be so formal.” He chuckles and gives a hearty stomp. “Tonight was fun, but some critique never hurts, does it?”
>You cock your head and nod in agreement.
“Of course not. But I’ll make sure Trixie gets the message.” You see the mare who sat with Bart waving him over out of the corner of your eye. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time tonight. Family, and all. Are you available tomorrow?”
>”Indeed I am.”
“Excellent. I shall swing on by and finish up our business. Until then, good night, sir.”
>You give him a short, bow, which he returns. He returns to his family, just in time for Trixie to return from her dressing room, and in a small crowd of ponies just off to the side of the stage.
>It’s her time to shine, so you’d like to stay out of the spotlight for now. But, congratulations are in order.
>Then a white hoof around your knee stops you.
>”Okay. Time to go.”
“One sec, let me talk to Trixie before we go.”
>”But…” She points another hoof at Trixie. “She looks kinda busy right now.”
>Yeah, she’s talking to ponies, but you don’t see why-oh.
>She’s getting really close to that stallion she was with during the show.
>Maybe it is best to leave her alone.
>You can congratulate her in the morning or something. She deserves some time for herself, you suppose.
“Um… Sure, let’s go. Is the place nearby?”
>”About a fifteen minute trot. Twenty if we’re getting a bite to eat.”
“Alright, lead the way.”

>Vinyl lazily slides off your leg and makes for the exit. You take one last glace at Trixie. She still remains close to the stallion, even while talking to others. The stallion has an awkward and uncomfortable look on his face. Trixie is going to break him.
>Yeah, you’re out of here. You quickly follow Vinyl out the door, leaving Trixie to her fans.
==
>You are the Great and Powerful Trixie.
>Where is Anonymous going?
>He’s usually all over you after a show. Saying things like, ‘That was great!’ or ‘You could have done this better.’
>No, he’s just leaving. Is it because you’re being swamped by fans? That hasn’t been an issue in the past. Your show couldn’t have been bad enough for him to leave without a word. You’re sure there’s a good reason why he’s ignoring you.
>And you know what that reason is.
>Vinyl.
>Bucki-No, FUCKING.
>Scratch.
>Whenever you want to get close to Anonymous, Vinyl is the foil against your teeth. She is the sandpaper against your tongue. Simply put, Vinyl is quite possibly the biggest cockblock you have ever encountered. You fear what she would do if you were interested in Anon sexually. Terrible, terrible things.
>But, as much blame as you can place on Vinyl, Anonymous is still the subject of your anger and annoyance. He likes Vinyl. That’s fine. However, when she becomes a priority over you, things get fuzzy and lines begin to blur. Who do you like more, Anon? Trixie or Vinyl. Trixie, of course, but that question gets harder to answer every time you see them together.
>And they’re together a lot.

>You grunt in frustration after a few minutes. It’s obvious he isn’t coming back here. It may be best to wait for him at the wagon.
>But then what? How does one explain their jealousy and dislike of someone close to the person she is talking to?
>You wince after realizing what you just thought.
>Jealousy. It crossed your mind while you were on stage, and it’s back.
>You’re jealous. You want Anonymous to talk to you more often. You want to be close to him. You want him to tell you about his past. His family, his relationships, everything. None of this, ‘I was boring before Equestria’ garbage. And you want to tell him about your family. You want to tell him you’re the little filly who fell far below her mother’s expectations. You want to tell him about the older sister who used to constantly mock you for ‘only being good at magic’. You want him to hold you close as you let it all out. You needed someone who can sit and listen. Anonymous already did so much, but only to your bragging and other nonsense.
>You’ve been dropping SUBTLE hints that you consider Anonymous a friend. Maybe it’s time you become close… friends.
>…
>Heh, oh Trixie.
>You know you’re going to go back to treating him like dirt the moment Vinyl is gone.
“Hey, you.” You look to the handsome orange stallion next to you.
“You don’t have plans tonight, do you?”
>A blush creeps across his face.
>”Erm… No, ma’am.”
“Great, follow me then.”
>You begin to trot for the exit when the stallion pipes up.
>”I don’t mean to imply anything, Miss Trixie, but… I’m… gay, you know? So-“
“Even better, come along now.”

>You are Anonymous.
”Six bits? Hm,” You dig through your pockets, pulling out every bit on you.
>Shit, only four.
“Alright, I’ll just take the one candybar, then.”
>The cashier gladly takes three bits as you snatch the chocolate.
>You exit the small convenient store. Vinyl sits quietly next to the door like an obedient little dog.
>After unwrapping the candy, you break it in half and give one to Vinyl.
“Will that keep you going?”
>She stuffs the whole thing in her mouth before answering.
>”Yeff”
>Chocolate spittle hits your pants. Awesome.
>She swallows it all in one big gulp.
>”Okay, I’m good for like, five minutes.”
“Did you have trouble sleeping last night, or something?”
>”No, I’m… just crashin’… pretty hard.” Her words before unintelligible near the end of her sentence.
“You what?”
>”Nothin’. Hey, so, Trixie.”
“Again? You talk about her more than I do.”
>Vinyl takes the lead again towards the club’s location.
>”I dunno. Every time I think about you and Trixie, I get all mad, and stuff! I can’t help it.”
“And I keep telling you, it’s fine. The living situation isn’t great, but I can live with it.”
>”And that attitude of yours!” She spins on a heel, still moving in the right direction, only backwards now. “You’re okay with living in a closet? Well I’m NOT okay with you being okay!”
“Hey-“
>”Anon, real talk. Okay? You know what’s the issue here? You’re not assertive. Like, at all.”
>Okay, now she’s beginning to annoy you.
“You know, if I bent over and took everything Trixie threw at me, I would be in a much worse situation.”
>”Then you should have kept going! You deserve-“
“You’re buttering me up for something, aren’t you?”

>It sure feels like it. She’s been insisting you deserve something better than Trixie for a while now. There’s some sort of endgame here, but you don’t know what it is.
>”What? Phbbbt!” She turns back around. “I just care about you, is all. W—Aha! There’s the place!”
>She points to a sleek, square building. Magenta neon lights line the trim, while outlining the word ‘Marquee’.
“Huh, looks fancy.”
>”It’s mellow compared to what I’m used to, but it’ll do.”
>Vinyl leads you to the entrance where the two of you are stopped by a large bouncer. Vinyl doesn’t take long to explain who she is and the guest with her. Momentarily, you are in.
>You take your first step in the club, and suddenly Trixie’s room isn’t so purple. No actual white lights illuminate the area. Only several dull magenta floor lights. It only takes a few seconds for it to start being stressful on your eyes. The long hallway with black walls extended for probably a good thirty yards until it opened up into a large room, populated by several ponies.
>And with every step you took, the music got louder. The deep rumble of music resonating through the hall offends your eardrums.
“How do we get out of here?!”
>Vinyl’s mouth moves, but you can’t hear a thing. The music overpowers just about every noise.
>You make a gesture that you can’t hear, and she nods her head in the direction of the large room, and then proceeds to enter it.

>What you see when you enter would make Rarity squeal and vomit at the same time. Along the sides of the room, wide booth seats with classy looking ponies in them chatter amongst themselves. How they can hear each other is a mystery even Scooby and the gang cannot solve.
>The rest of the ponies, a much more wild looking bunch, occupy the center of the room, with a DJ and her equipment on a pillar in the middle.
>Vinyl takes no time to soak in the atmosphere, and weaves through the crowd towards the far side of the room where a slick black door lies, with two bouncers in front of it this time.
>You clumsily step around the crowd as Vinyl begins chatting the two up muscle bound ponies. They give you the go-ahead as you reach the door.
>Behind it, little sound from the outside gets through, finally allowing you and Vinyl to talk.
“Okay… Aah, hold on. My head is killing me.”
>”No time, we’re already probably really late.”
>Vinyl darts behind you and gives your rump a firm shove.
“H-Hey! Hold on! What am I even supposed to do? What are you looking for? Rates? Dates? Are there special terms I need to know of?”
>Vinyl sighs and falls backwards onto her flank.
>”As soon as possible, I cannot supply my own equipment, 2000 bits for a night, and that’s final.”
“… 2000 bits.”
>”Hey,” She crosses her forehooves. “I used to be in Canterlot. I lowered the price enough as it is, any lower is too much.”
“And that’s all?”
>”Yep!”
“… I think I got this.”

>You enter the owner’s office.
>And exit ten minutes later.
>Vinyl, in the same spot she was in once you left, sits still in amazement.
>”Did… what happened?”
“You got a job.”
>”W-… How?”
“I lowered the price to 1,500 bits. You were asking for too much, Vinyl. But since you were so stubborn about it, I only had to lower the price a little bit for him to become interested. Excellent business tactic on your part. Well done.”
>She remains still, mouth agape.
“Also, I got him to pay you 500 bits in advance. Whenever you’re ready, go ahead and collect it.”
>”Hug me.”
“… Wh-“
>”Shut up and do it.”
“Uh.”
>You awkwardly bend down and wrap your arms around her.
>She quickly returns it, wrapping her hooves tightly around your throat while nuzzling your cheek.
“Urk… breathing!”
>”Oops!” She releases her iron grip. “My bad. Heh. So,” she turns to the door leading to the dance floor. “Ready to party?”
”Erm…” You stand straight once again, fixing your tie and collar. “No thanks. Not my thing, you know.”
>”Then let’s make it your thing. I’ll get us a VIP room and I guarantee you’ll have the night of your life.”
“Vinyl-“
>”Hold up a sec, follow me.”

>Vinyl leads you out of the hallway and back into the main room where the music can once again assault your ears. She talks to a few ponies along the way, getting nods, little bags, or directions from each one of them.
>Soon enough, she leads you into yet another hallway, this time with a few extra tagalongs.
>The music dies off quickly in the hall, making conversation possible once again.
>”Oh, oh, Anon. I almost forgot. This,” She points to a light purple mare with cool offwhite mane just behind you. “Her name is Sweet… something. I forget.” The mare rolls her eyes. “Just a heads up, she’s into the more exotic types. So if you’re interested…” She wiggles her eyebrows before continuing down the hallway.
>You can’t help but blush a little. And then a little more once Sweet Something rubs up against you.
>”I like ‘em tall.” Her voice is soft and soothing, heavily dipped with a sensual tone.
>You wipe the sweat off your brow as you think to yourself.
>Tonight is going to be a long night.

>You are Trixie. The Great and Powerful and Amazing and Perfect Trixie.
“So he hops on Trixie’s wagon without a second thought, not caring about the emotional baggage and insane mares he’s bringing along!”
>The orange stallion and yourself sit at the table inside your wagon.
>You take another sip of brandy.
“Despite all of that, Trixie was able to look past it and find some sort of coexistence for the sake of business! Then he gets friendly with Trixie! ‘How dare he!’ I thought to myself. ‘No one can get this close to Trixie except Trixie herself!’. Hmph!” You trace your hoof around the edge of your glass. “That didn’t last too long.”
>”Oh? And how’s that?” The orange stallion inquired. You have yet to learn his name. You’ve been talking nearly the entire time and the subject of him or his name has yet to come up.
“He’s… charming. And groan inducing. He’s smart, but stupid.  He has this physical appeal, but he’s ugly. Trixie couldn’t help but enjoy his company. And he clearly enjoys spending time with Trixie! Only a couple of weeks ago, we had some sort of… connection!”
>”And what do you mean by that?” He sets his drink down, now clearly more interested in you than the alcohol.
“We… played off each other. When we talked, the banter would bounce back and forth-“
>”Not that. How did it feel?”
“Of course it felt nice. Trixie… hasn’t had many ponies to talk with. Just recently we started opening up to each other and… Tr-… I like it.”
>You lower your head onto the table, resting your chin on the rough wood.
“I like him.”

>”It doesn’t look like you say that very often.”
“I don’t.”
>”He must be something special, hm? Have you ever considered…” He simply rolls his eyes upwards and rocks his head back and forth a few times. You catch his meaning after a second.
“N-… Mmm… Yes.”
>”Have you tried anything?”
“We’ve… joked around a little. Neither of us took it seriously. To be honest, I’m not sure if I want… something. I don’t know.”
>You place your hooves over your eyes.
“And even if I did, some other mare would just continue to pull his attention away! She’s merely a beggar who Anonymous can’t stop giving handout to! And she keeps getting close to him and I’m afraid that… I’m just afraid.”
>”Is there something going on between them?”
“No. I don’t think so… But he left me today to go with her.”
>”Oooohhh.” He leans back in his chair. “You need to win him back.”
“I tried! I keep telling-“
>”That’s the problem. Stop telling and ordering. Give him some space, or at least the illusion of it, but don’t let him off the leash.”
>You push your head off the table. This topic just got a little confusing.
>”And be sure you make it obvious he’s off-limits to other mares. Relationships are a very territorial business. Get lazy, another mare may come in to steal your property.”
“So… I have to claim him… while giving him space?”
>”Uh-huh.” He picks up his drink again, taking a decent sized gulp before putting it back down again.
“So how would I, you know, claim him? Or whatever you mean.”
>”You could try dating him, see where it goes. You’ll gain his loyalty by the fourth or fifth one.”
“Eehh…”
>”The quickest way is to sleep with him.”

>Your whole body shudders at the thought.
>Pass.
>”A good hoofy-j or blow job will do the trick, but sleeping with him is probably the best way.”
>You can’t believe it. This random pony you pulled off the street is telling you to sleep with a strange alien creature from a sep-actually that makes perfect sense.
“Any other brilliant advice?”
>He shrugs, and downs the rest of his brandy.
>”So am I getting paid for this, or what?”
>Sigh.
“No, you’re getting out.”
>He gives you an annoyed glare before dropping his glass on the table and getting up. You stop the glass before it rolls off the table as he exits the wagon, calling you a cheap bitch.
>Well, that was fun.
>He did raise a few good points, however. You must talk to Anonymous once again. So much talk. Can someone please list a bunch of great bonding activities?
>So you wait at the table. He should be back soon.
>You entertain yourself by creating a beat with your hooves, finishing off your drink, and browsing the cabinets for food.
>But it isn’t long until you get bored enough to rest your head on the table.
>And you wait.
>And wait some more.
>And then you sleep.

>Several hours later, you awaken to the sounds of an extraordinarily squeaky door.
>You attempt to roll over and stuff your head into a pillow, but this isn’t your bed.
>As heavy footstep thud across the wood floor, you recall why you’re not sleeping in your bed.
>With a tremendous amount of effort, you push your head off the table before letting out a yawn.
“Anonmos… Is tha’ you?”
>You’d love to look for yourself, but there’s this reinforced crusty layer of eye boogers preventing you from doing so.
>But his telltale grunt gives his identity away.
“Where… Urg.”
>Finishing a sentence is hard right now. Bleh. Okay, deep breath and then one more try.
“Where were you?”
>”Out.”
>He sounds worse than you.
>You manage to pry your eyes open as he begins raiding the cupboards.
>He pulls out the box of little rainbow concentrate tea bags. Blast, he found out you’re not using real rainbow.
>You’ll get over it.
>As he starts boiling some water, you get to take a good look at him.
“You look like a wreck.”
>”You too.” His tone is a little more cold than what you’re used to. It must have been a really rough night.
“Well… today we should go to the park, maybe.” You rest your head on the table again. “That would be fun.”
>”No, we need to get on the road. I know you’d love a few extra winks of sleep, so would I, but I want to get to Manehatten as soon as possible.”

>You appreciate his motivation, but you’re not a fan of the attitude.
“I was thinking you and Trixie could… enjoy a day at the park or… something.” Your voice trails off.
>He lets out a low groan while rubbing his face.
>”Next time. I’m seriously down for the count.” He looks back to the pot of water. Now warm, he removes it from the stove and dips the bags inside. “What I wouldn’t give for this shit to be instant…”
>You hop out of your chair and stretch all your limbs. Judging by how the hair hanging by your face looks, you’re in desperate need of a brush, right now. And your breath probably stinks of alcohol and morning.
>”Want one?”
>Anonymous begins pouring himself a cup of the rainbow, with an empty cup set next to it.
“… No. Trixie may just go back to sleep.”
>Anonymous lets out a small grunt of frustration before taking one huge gulp of the stuff.
>He goes through the color spectrum once again, always breathing fire at red, then settles down.
>”Oooooh yeah…” He begins stretching limbs and popping joints. “Much better.”
>He then climbs the step ladder. As he cracks the top hatch open, sunlight pours in.
>Wait, it’s morning? How long were you out?
>Anonymous climbs up and out of the wagons without another word, leaving you alone once again.
>You sit and ponder for a moment. Your eyes dart from your bedroom door to the empty cup, and back again.
>”Hrm… no one will notice.”
>Despite how terrible you look right now, you pour yourself a cup of the rainbow, and proceed to follow Anonymous up.