"Truth is a precious commodity — so precious, in fact, that it is best kept hidden behind a wall of lies."
–Argent Snow, House Argent, 113 BCE

Some sang for fun, some for money, and some for fame.

Nightwish was much more interested in the last one; after all fame came with money, and money bought fun. That was why she joined Darkstar, who had benefitted from her artistic talents to the point where they were this year's favored band at the annual Shockwave competition. Metal bands from all over Equestria would play off against each other in front of a live audience for the glory and contracts that came with a winning position, and Nightwish intended to take first place.

This year, the event was being held in Baltimare, at Madame Butterfly's Nightclub and Cabaret. The sidewalks on both sides of the street were swarming with fans; security could barely hold back the tide as Nightwish stepped out of her cab. Her entrance was met with screams of delight from her fans mixed with marriage proposals from many stallions and more than a few mares. She flashed them an appreciative smile that was almost as bright as her trademark sapphire necklace. It had been a part of her ensemble at every concert and public appearance. Fans called it a good luck charm, without realizing how accurate the term really was.

"Excuse me! Miss Nightwish!" A maroon unicorn with a tan mane and a series of musical notes on her flank — what was such a mare doing in the news industry? — strained against the banisters that kept the paparazzi from intruding on the red carpet. "Phrase Mark — The Daily Sun. Is it true that you've taken up with Prince Blueblood?"

While Nightwish was new to the scene, she was smart enough to know that talking with the paparazzi did more harm than good. She gave the 'journalist' a cold smile and walked away from her as she continued to shout questions to her receding form. A quick glance back revealed that Phrase Mark was harassing a thestral with a flaming skull on his flank — Dive Bomb of the Stormbirds. To her surprise, he actually seemed to be flirting with her and managed to convince security to let her in with him.

There was evidently no accounting for taste.

The nightclub's bar was filled with ponies awaiting the start of the competition. Most were drinking and talking amiably amongst themselves, though one mare spent her time alone at the bar. Her tired blonde mane drooped over her face as she stared determinedly at her half–empty glass of whiskey, occasionally checking the watch on her wrist out of boredom. The cutie mark on her brown flank seemed entirely befitting her attitude — a daisy whose stem had been cut by a pair of shears.

Most stallions would have been put off by her sullenness. One particularly bold unicorn, however, interpreted her demeanor as a challenge and took it upon himself to cheer her up.

"Hey babe," the stallion grinned as he slid up to her. "Who're you here for? Dive Bomb?"

"I am afraid not," she scoffed. "I find his music to be bland and uninspired. The only reason he is popular is because he caters to passing fads and timeless cliches. If, however, you are looking for an unfortunate mare who shares your taste in music, may I point you towards the gaggle of girls three tables yonder who seem to be in serious danger of passing out from excitement?"

She turned her attention back to her whiskey and let the stallion sputter in outrage before he left, muttering some rather vicious speculation into her personal life.

"Wow, Daisy, wasn't that a little harsh?"

She looked up again as a unicorn sat down next to her, a white–coated mare with a bright pink mane, and a diamond cutie mark divided equally into red, blue, yellow, and white square subsections.

"He was a boorish bore, Flash Point," Daisy replied dryly.

"I don't know," she winked. "I thought he was cute."

Daisy snorted. "We do not have time for such trivialities."

"Yeah, gotta pay attention to the music, right?"

Flash Point turned on her stool and faced the stage, where the announcer was introducing the bands. Darkstar was the first to play; Flash Point's attention was entirely focused on Nightwish, while Daisy fished out a pair of earplugs and quickly jammed them in her ears before the music could reach them.

Sound waves shook the walls of the building and rattled Daisy's skull as Darkstar played some nonsense about war and violence — juvenile tripe that appealed to power fantasies of pubescent males. It was the same with the next band, and the band after. This was what she truly despised about the genre; not the fact that the music was loud and crude, but that the message was about mindless aggression.

Five agonizing hours later, she was slumped next to Flash Point downing her fifth glass of whiskey as the last band left the stage so that the contest judges could begin handing out awards. Unsurprisingly, Darkstar won first place, to the sound of thundering applause. The second place band, Sleipnir, glared at Darkstar enviously, though the third place contestants, Stormbirds, took the results much better.

In fact, Dive Bomb stumbled over the bar reeking of whiskey from a flask in his hooves. He wore a grin so wide that his fangs were exposed, and threw his arms around Flash Point and Daisy. "Ladies, how'd you like t' spend an evening with the third greatest guitarist in Equestria?"

Flash Point giggled appreciatively at the attention she was receiving from the thestral. "How could anyone turn down that offer?"

"How indeed?" Daisy grumbled, though she let herself be led off nonetheless.

Dive Bomb waved off security as he took the pair backstage into his band's guest room. It was thankfully empty, and Daisy lost no time in locking the door while Flash Point and Dive Bomb settled comfortably on the couch.

Flash Point bounced on her cushion in excitement. "I can't believe we're actually doing this!"

"I know, right?" Dive Bomb hugged Flash Point. "Almost like a reunion."

The faint ghost of a smile graced Daisy lips. "Almost."

She walked over to the coffee table and grabbed an apple from the complimentary fruit bouquet, which she devoured in three swift bites, core and all. "So, how've things been?"

"Pretty good, got a new ax last month!" Dive Bomb grabbed an electric guitar off of the floor and played a short riff on it. "Meriwether made it f' me when I opened for DJ Pon–3 in Canterlot."

Flash Point giggled. "How do you say that name with a straight face?"

"What? DJ Pon–3's a perfectly valid stage name!"

"Almost as good as Dive Bomb," Daisy snickered.

Dive Bomb shook his head. "I'm taking that as a compliment."

Daisy smirked and devoured another apple, while Flash Point ruffled his hair affectionately. "Don't worry, little bro. We don't think any less of you for it."

"Yes," Daisy added stoically. "That would be impossible."

Dive Bomb rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You two can go straight t' Tartarus."

There was a chime from Daisy's saddlebags. She turned her attention away from her bickering siblings and fished out a small crystal mirror, a product of the Crystal Empire. Looking into the surface did not yield her own reflection, but Instead, that of a dark red unicorn looked back at her cheerfully.

"Hiya, Daisy Cutter! Welcome back from the Crystal Empire! How're you and auntie Amber Grains doing there?"

She regarded the mare in the mirror cooly. "Very well, Phrase Mark. Thank you for asking. Mom has just been promoted to head gardener at the palace, and I have set up my apothecary. Yourself?"

"Canterlot's fine, but living with dad feels so... restrictive. He always scares off my dates, you know? Nothing scares off a stallion faster than knowing that a mare's father is Celestia's court messenger, unless maybe he was a general, or police chief." The sound of shattering glass drew Phrase Mark's attention over her shoulder. "By the way, sweetheart, the target's currently dancing on a table and very drunk. You ready?"

Daisy looked up to see that Dive Bomb and Flash Point were wrestling on the ground. "As always."

"Good, Merry's going to kill the power any second now. Just sit back and relax."

Daisy bit into her third apple forcefully. "I am relaxed."

"Is that why you're going through apples faster than Blueblood goes through marefriends, sweetheart?"

Instead of responding, Daisy shoved the mirror back in her saddlebags and reached for another apple. The lights went out a moment later, only to be replaced by the dull red glow of the emergency lights. They then flickered briefly before cutting out as well. Ponies outside began whinny in confusion as the nightclub staff tried to keep them calm and restore power.

Daisy cleared her throat in the darkness. "Are you two done?"

Dive Bomb gave a sheepish laugh from somewhere behind the couch. "Um, yes."

The thestral released his hold on Flash Point and moved up to the door. Unlike ponies, thestrals had evolved in the deep caves of Tramplevania, and possessed a natural sense of echolocation. On top of hearing sharper than that of any pony's, sound would also stimulate their visual cortex, a form of synesthesia known as chromesthesia. He felt as comfortable in darkness as he did under the brightest of lights.

Dive Bomb listened at the door for a good minute before being satisfied that the corridor was empty. He quietly opened the door and the trio snuck down the hall to Darkstar's room. Dive Bomb put his hoof on the door handle and found, to his surprise, that the door swung open without protest.

The spine of a heavy book connect with Dive Bomb's skull the moment he stepped through. He collapsed on the ground in a daze as Flash Point's horn glowed off–white. There was just enough light to see a pony dressed in dark olive vest before a pith helmet covered her horn and the sound of hooves hitting Flash Point filled the air. Their assailant quickly cried out in pain as Flash Point caught one of her hooves and threw her into the wall.

The sound of impact echoed through the room and allowed Dive Bomb to pinpoint their opponent. He promptly charged their attacker, ramming his shoulder into her barrel as she struggled to get up. The blow knocked the wind out of her lungs and stunned her. Dive Bomb quickly held her in a headlock as Daisy brought out a hoofful of glowing green powder and spread it in the air to illuminate the room.

To their surprise, Dive Bomb had caught a khaki pegasus with greyscale mane. "Let me go! You'll never get away with this! I'll– Hey, weren't you on stage an hour ago?"

Dive Bomb beamed proudly. "Why yes I was! Always nice t' meet a fan."

She promptly elbowed him in the gut and began bucking against him. "How much is Ahuizotl paying you? I hope its enough to ease your conscience when he unleashes a murder of trained crows on the Tenochtitlan Basin!"

Daisy Cutter rolled up a magazine that was lying on the coffee table and gave the pegasus a sharp whack on the muzzle with it. "Stop your raving, we're not working for anypony."

The pegasus blinked in confusion. "Then what are you here for?"

Flash Point pointed at Dive Bomb dramatically. "Overcome by jealousy at losing the contest, Dive Bomb decided to break into Darkstar's personal belongings and sabotage their equipment!"

Dive Bomb looked at his sisters in disbelief, as if to say "And you think she'll buy it?"

They glared back at him. "What, do you have a better suggestion?"

He rolled his eyes. "Look, I think its pretty obvious we're up t' something bigger than petty vandalism."

"I'm not going to stop you from wrecking the place," the pegasus said, much to everypony's surprise. "All I want is Nightwish's necklace."

Daisy raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Oh, a thief, are we?"

She flicked her tail in agitation. "I'm not stealing! It belongs in a museum!"

There was absolutely no change in Daisy's expression.

"I'm telling the truth, alright? It's the Songbird's Lament, a powerful artifact that enhances the wearer's voice and allows her to control birds by singing! Its probably why she's been winning so many contests!"

Flash Point gave the pegasus an appraising look. "So why shouldn't we take it? Sounds like it could be useful."

Daisy turned and smacked Flash Point with the magazine.

"Fine," Flash Point grumbled. "How about we make it a trade?"

The pegasus looked at the three of them nervously. "But I didn't bring anything with me."

"Oh, I'm sure we could think of something." The pegasus felt her mouth go dry and throat construct as Daisy crouched down next to her until they were eye to eye. Daisy's gaze lingered on the pegasus's flank, which bore the mark of a compass rose, before she brought it up to her face, along with a pen and notepad. "Can I have your autograph?"