Lights strobed. Hooves stomped. Smoke pumped through the air and the bass thumped hard enough to shake your flank straight through your legs. Drinks were slammed, surreptitious glances were stolen, furtive makeout sessions held in the corners. The entire building shook and flooded with the strength of their emotions, an audience hundreds-large all at her thrall. She was in her element, indisputably the Queen of All Wubs, the Lady of Discs, the one and only DJ P0N-3. But those were all just titles and stage names. She was Vinyl Scratch, and she ruled over this club, her hooves and magic flying across discs and dials in equal measure, making the night last as long as her crowd wanted it to.

And, once the hours got late (early) and the moon got low (sun got high), they finally began to calm down. Ponies left, in ones and twos and threes, while Vinyl played on. It wasn't until she was totally alone that she began to pack up. Her turntables were made to fold and collapse, quickly flipping and meeting together to form one of her now-iconic briefcases. Records in their slipcases, then the slipcases into in their hard cases, then all of that in the carrying case- Vinyl was careful with three things in her life. One was her gear, two was her records, and three was waiting at home in the bed they shared.

Speaking of which, it was soon time for her to get home, push Octy up against the wall, and have some frisky fun before they both went to sleep. Their bed schedule, both in cases of bed time and "bed" time, had grown pretty funky. Octavia worked long hours on weekdays, performing concerto pieces and teaching musical students at their old alma mater. Vinyl was free almost all week, but worked through the whole weekend as if tomorrow was not a thing. In the end, they had both gotten a bit flexible, sleeping whenever they got the chance, and "sleeping" just as often. And yeah, maybe part of that was just how insatiable she could be... But she'd learned that Octy could more than keep up.

Everything was collapsed and completed, the janitors were hitting the floor, and even the stallion tending bar was gone. So now she could just head out the door and... Ah, that would be a little bit of a problem. Across the wide floor, between her and the exit, a unicorn couple were walking in. They clearly didn't work here, and the stallion was singing, swaying from side to side- Maybe drunk, maybe just enthusiastic. Vinyl didn't quite recognize the song he was singing (and that was rare for her), but the lyrics caught her ear. The tone was melancholy, yet a bit upbeat, the weird kind of dichotomy she liked.

The couple themselves...Another rarity for her, she didn't recognize them. The singing fellow had a dark purple coat with a short riffed mane and tail, both coal-black. Cutie mark... A figure-8 made from two black squares, laid side to side. His (marefriend? wife? courtesan? whorse? sister?) companion was a huge contrast to him. A coat of pale violet with a white mane and tail, both braided, with a shockingly similar cutie mark- Two silver coins, instead of black squares, but the same configuration. Vinyl had them pegged as one of those lovey-dovey "destined to be together" couples, probably looking for a threesome with the hot DJ. She couldn't blame them.

Well, she'd shut them down gently, like she always did. No matter how many ponies asked, Vinyl Scratch was a one-mare mare, and had left those kinds of party day behind... Not that she ever had many of them to begin with. But what she got up to back in college was entirely her own business, and totally behind her. And in front of her was... Well, another couple of swingers about to be disappointed by her old-school monogamy. But hay, where she was concerned, Octavia was the only mare for Vinyl Scratch, and Vinyl Scratch was the only mare for Octavia.

By then, the two of them had made it closer to her. She prepared her usual spiel, and...
"No, we're not here for that. And yeah, it's really that obvious that you were planning to shut us down."

Vinyl blinked. His voice was... not rough, but had a sort of calculated edge. Somepony who knew how to seem risky and dangerous even when he clearly wasn't. Not a talent most could pull convincingly. He extended a hoof, and she shook it warily.

"Matte Finish is my name, my wife here is Nickel n' Dime, and we are actually here to make you a different kind of offer. Similar topic, tho."

Wait, he (presumably) knew what she had been thinking about, and he -still- had the same topic in mind? That took some guts. Her respect for the guy rose another tick.
"And what makes you think I'll hear you out, Mr. Finish?"

He grinned- Rakish, cocky. Not surprising, with what she had seen so far.
"You have precisely buck-all better to do, you always have some excess energy to burn after a show, and you're probably sorta glad we aren't hitting on you."

Actually, that thought had been occurring to her...
"Alright, hit me."

The mare floated a small slip of card-stock over to her.
"Our card."

Vinyl looked it over.

Oh. Oh wow. Vinyl hadn't heard of any 'shops' like that in Canterlot apart from Velvet's place, which was really more about the clothes. Which is not to say she hadn't been looking... As awesome as Vinyl obviously was on her own, Octavia deserved the best she could muster in the bedroom. Sometimes that meant getting some help... Given the shoddy craftsmanship of the "toys" they often found, it ended up being easily-breakable help. So without a doubt, the idea was catching her interest. She looked past the card now, eyebrow raised. Matte Finish just looked back at her, smiling.

"We hadn't named the place at first, but some of our more... interesting customers gave us an idea, in passing. So yeah, now you know who we are. And as to why we're here... Ms. Scratch, we're here to talk business."

--------

Five AM. Celestia's Sun was coming fast, and that's why Vinyl found herself lying in the booth of her favorite diner, ordering just that. She turned to the waiter and floated the menu his way.
"Celestia's Sun, extra hay, real crispy."

Matte and Nickel, snuggled close in the booth across from her, put their menus down. They hadn't really looked at them to begin with, now that she thought about it.
"Same for both of us."

The waiter took their menus in his mouth and trotted off. Vinyl quirked an eyebrow at the pair.
"Ordering something that isn't even on the menu? Daring couple."

Nickel, who up to this point had barely spoken, smiled.
"Three eggs, basted in spicy broth, the sides are diced celery, hash browns, and hay fries."

"...Aand you've never been here before?"

Again, that slightly-off smile.
"My mother used to make something with a similar name when I was a filly... It was an easy assumption to make, that it was the same dish."

Vinyl just nodded in response, looking over the two of them. That was pretty reasonable... Except she was responsible for that nickname herself. She ordered it constantly, since it was her favorite early-morning hangover cure. So now she had to wonder- Did she come up with it just like this mare's mother did, or was something strange going on? What would Octy do in this situation? Well... She'd figure out the facts. Facts make it all flow easier. Alright then, facts... What do I know about these ponies?

They came to see her after her show... So they didn't come in for the show itself and stay behind. Not a fan of the music? Needed prep time? Tight schedule, maybe. Business card, came here because of her... her what? Her music? Her reputation as a party pony? Was it about... The things she did back then? No, it couldn't have been...

"If you're wondering, Ms. Scratch-"

She interrupted Finish. No more of that.
"Vinyl. Just call me Vinyl. No sense in getting formal with me, supposed business plans or not. I don't do formal."

He chuckled.
"Fine by me. Well, if you're wondering why we want your help with a business venture... Let's just say that your reputation precedes you."

Buck.
"My reputation for being a completely immaculate and awesome DJ, right?"

Neither one of them said anything.
"...Right?"

----

In the corner of the Engineering Department's main building at Canterlot Technical Institute, a mare was working overtime. Then again, she worked overtime all the time. A double-major doctorate in Acoustical Engineering and Electrical Engineering (specifically the new and exclusive sub-department of 'Computer' Science) wasn't easy- And the 'art' of digital music (much less the existence of digital technology at all) was still terribly young. So not only was she taking two extremely high-stress course sets at once, but she was a pioneer in her field. And it showed- The stress and the pioneering. A messy white coat that hadn't seen a brush in days, a ragged cobalt mane that hadn't seen a comb in weeks; topped off with eyes bright, wide, and most of all enthusiastic behind her glasses.

The head of the department, coming through on inspection, called out to her. He had, over the years, formed a bit of a rapport with the department's star student.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Scratch!"

Vinyl turned around, smiling...

----

She scowled at Matte over her coffee.
"Alright, that's the last straw, buddy. How do you know so much about me?"

Rather than getting a response from him, it was his mare who looked at her, taking a sip of her own drink. She seemed entirely calm when she spoke.
"What if I told you I went to school with you?"

"I'd laugh in your face. I might have been pretty work-focused, but I would have remembered somepony with a name like "Nickel n' Dime". Pretty unique."

The other mare chuckled, refusing to make eye contact.
"Aaand if I told you that Nickel n' Dime wasn't actually my name?"

Vinyl squinted at her. The wheels turned in her head- A bit slow at this time of morning, but still they turned. This girl wasn't exactly familiar, but plenty of ponies dyed their manes, or their coats... And then it clicked.
"Wait. Wait, I do know you! You're Nickel Char-"

She was shushed almost immediately, a look of fear in Nickel's expression.
"Quiet, please. Let's just... We won't spread around what we know about you, and you don't remember me. Sound like a plan?"

Privacy. Secrecy. Shared deception. Vinyl was used to it- Buck, she appreciated it. As much as her education was important to her, it was also tough to reconcile with her modern-day P0N-3 image. And if this mare had something to hide so recently after (graduating? But she was new to the school the year I got out, and that's only been...) leaving school, so be it.
"Deal."

She would have asked something else, but their food arrived-- Three sizzling plates, eggs bright gold under the vicious red sauce. It would play merry Tartarus on her stomach, come morning, but it was so worth it. They all dug in, not even attempting to talk until the whole thing was finished. A few cups of coffee later (her favorite measurement of time) and they were finally ready to talk once more.

"OK, so, what's the scoop? Why've you got me tapped?"

"The 'scoop' is that we're pretty interested in the... feel of music."

"What, like the texture?"

He laughed- Not at her, just generally. He didn't seem the type to laugh over a misunderstanding.
"Well, no, I was being more literal. I mean, you can touch music, right? Or any sound."

Vinyl knew exactly what he was talking about... The 'Wall of Sound'. It was a familiar concept to her- The sound waves from any source, like somepony's voice, or a speaker putting out music, create physical pressure. And unicorn magic could amplify those waves, and condense that pressure. The result could be a powerful blast, or even a dense presence, like a (very fleeting) solid object. She knew about it very well, after all... Her final project had involved the construction of an experimental "Wub Cannon". The first test firing took the roof off of the High-Energy Music Department. She passed with flying colors... after the review board got dug out of the rubble. It almost seemed like they were in a hurry to graduate her, after that.

"Hmmm. That sorta explains why you want me to help. But I'm getting tired, ponies- I want to hear the details sooner than later, or it's a no-go."

"Alright then, here's the facts: We want to make a line of sonic sex toys. Vibes that sync to music, sure, that's not too hard. But we're looking to stretch the limits, make toys that use sound, that are sound. And if anypony can make it work, it's you."

Vinyl could already see the possibilities in her head. It was a nice sight.
"...Let's talk bits, then."

He grinned, a kilowatt smile to be sure.
"So you're in?"

"We talk compensation first, then I tell you if I'm in."

For a moment, the two of them leaned back and whispered to one another, and Vinyl relaxed. This sounded... Good. She had been thinking about making some extra cash on the side anyways, to make things a bit nicer for Octavia and to prepare for... future events. Might as well make that money doing something fun and sexy, even if it did mean relying on her old decidedly un-sexy college experiences. So even if they named a bad price, she was up for it.

Matte looked back up from their discussion.
"Thirty percent of the profits from whatever we design together, straight off the top. And the same percentage as a permanent discount at our shop, as a thank you."

...Or he could name a bucking phenomenal price. Mind-boggling, even. She shut her mouth, sure her jaw had been hanging open. There was really only one thing she could say. So she put her hoof out and smiled as he did the same. The smile got a bit wider as Nickel put her hoof in as well- Clearly she had been right about the whole "couple that does everything together" idea.
"Matte, Nickel? You have a deal."

--------

In her rather well-appointed Canterlot apartment, a cellist named Octavia was disrupted from her sleep, suddenly chilled to the bone. Clearly, her dear Vinyl was about to do something atrociously stupid.

It said a fair bit about their relationship that she woke up with that kind of premonition most nights.

"..."
She rolled over and went back to sleep.