Flickering lights, a bass that would knock the wind clean out of you, glowsticks; blazing like bars of pure energy. These things came together to paint a scene of total surrealism; a scene that had become the ever present backdrop in my life. Not like I was complaining, no, I was far from complaining; but a mare has got to have a change of scenery once in awhile.

So you’d only imagine the excitement I felt when, soon after I closed both for the night a few days ago, I was approached by a business-like colt offering me the opportunity to DJ at an upcoming event in Ponyville. I’d never been there, Ponyville, but I’d heard some interesting gossip in the various Manehatten clubs’ I’d traveled too. Apparently, it was the home of the fabled Mane Six, a group of ponies who possessed an immense amount of power. From the way they were talked about, I envisioned them as a group of costumed superheroes who each possessed some unfair, reality bending abilities. I sort of doubted that, but recently with all the talk that had been going around following the much publicized day that Nightmare Moon ‘descended from her silver lit place of banishment to wreak terror on Canterlot and Ponyville’s denizens’, my opinions were slowly beginning to change.

You’d only imagine my surprise when a spokspony for Celestia herself arrived at my suburban two story house in Manehatten and requested my attendance at Princess Cadence, Celestias nieces, wedding in a bunch of months. I knew then and there that I might actually get to meet the supernatural Mane Six ponies, or at least Twilight Sparkle, who was apparently mentored by the Sun Goddess herself. Again, I doubted such claims. The media has a fickle way of obscuring the truth, but the opportunity to DJ at a royal wedding, and maybe even meet the Sun Goddess herself, was an opportunity I’d go to Luna’s hell and back to get.

To my horror I yawned. My only nemesis, my sworn enemy, was making his attack. He was the only thing I feared while DJing. He goes by many names, lethargy, fatigue… but they all mean the same thing: you’re screwed. If I could make a wish that I’d never have to fall asleep again, I would do it, but for now I’d have to obey. Turning on the microphone I began to speak to the audience, who stopped dancing as I cut the music.

“This is your DJ speaking! Are you all enjoying yourselves tonight?!” A wild cheering arose from the assembled, and I enthusiastically smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes! Anyhow, I’m going to be descending from mount high to take a quick break. I’ll be back up here in about an hour, so till then… party hard!” Not a mere second after my voice finished echoing around the stadium like rave-hall I turned on the music again, bringing everypony right back in the mood as a regional favorite began to assault their eardrums.

With a final look at my audience, I left the DJ stand and exited through backstage into a medium sized staff room. Framed by colorful walls, the space contained a few couches, a fridge with free hard cider and energy drinks, a water cooler, and some pictures that I never really paid much attention too. Sighing heavily, I dragged my hooves to the fridge and pulled out an energy drink. Popping the tab off, I cantered over to a nearby couch and sat down heavily on its cushy surface. With another sigh I took a sip before closing my eyes, moaning and then falling back on the chair; letting my body sink in to the fabric. I didn’t know if I could go back out there; I was just so exhausted. I suppose all the late nights I’d been having recently were finally taking their toll.

“A little tired, are we?” A voice made my eyes snap open. Getting up, I tried to figure out where the source had come from. When my first scan came up with nothing, I fell back, chalking the words up to being a fabrication of my sleep deprived mind.

“Are you in there? I heard your hooves.” The voice came again, and this time, I knew exactly where it was coming from. At the far end of the room, a closed door that led to the main club was securely locked. The voice was coming in from the other side.

“Who’s there?” I asked, getting up and cantering over to the door.

“Celestia,” The male voice said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

Smiling to myself I arrived at the door. It was rather strange that somepony was on the other side- sure -and I wasn’t expecting anypony, but in all truth, what did I have to lose? It wasn’t like he was going to hurt me or anything, by Luna, I was the beloved DJ of the club… touch a mere hair on my mane without me wanting you to, and you’ve got a room full of ponies who would be more than happy to pummel you. Shrugging, I opened the door.

“Dj Pon-3?” the earth pony framed in the doorway asked a little shyly.

“Yep. What’s up?” I replied.

“You gave us a damn good show out there tonight. I and my friends were wondering if you’re planning on actually coming out, they’d love to meet you.”

“I don’t know bro…” I looked longingly over my shoulder at the energy drink, “you said it yourself… I’m damn tired.”

The visitor looked only slightly perturbed.

“If you don’t want to come out, could I come in?”

I sized him up. He had a raver’s build; with strong hind hooves to glowstring, a broad neck and a wiry frame. He was a fine specimen, no doubt… but trustworthy? His genuine smile dismissed my apprehensions. I could probably do with some company anyway. I’d been so busy with my work lately that I’d had little time to get in touch with my friends.

“What could I possibly do wrong, Pon3? Do I intimidate you?” He smiled playfully.

I raised an eyebrow.

“No, you don’t. Come in, make yourself at home… I’ve stood up to much, much larger things then you. Ever dealt with a griffon?”

He shook his head before cantering into the room. His eyes immediately locked on to the mini-fridge.

“They say you get free beer back here, is that true?”

“Yes, free drinks are a benefit of being a DJ,” I chuckled.

“The only benefit?” the earth pony questioned. “I’d bet you snag some mighty passionate fangasaming colts as well.”

“You being one of them?” I asked, closing the door and following him to the couch.

“You might find out.” When he looked at me again, I got a clear view of his eyes. They were blue, but more interestingly, they had what seemed to be a glaze of rainbow across their surface. I scotched the strange colors up to contacts. “May I?” He had made his way to the fridge, and was asking my permission to take a drink.

“Go ahead; Celestia knows I can’t drink it all on my own.”

“Sweet,” he murmured, before swinging open the small door and taking out two drinks.

Instead of walking towards me though, he closed the fridge door and just stared, tail and hind hooves facing me.

“What’s up?” I asked, airing on caution.

“N…nothing. Do you have a bottle opener?” he asked.

Without waiting for my response, he bent down so that he was almost fully hidden behind the granite topped island in front of the minifridge. I heard him opening up cupboards. I rolled my eyes.

“Dude, they’re screw off.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, rising again with both bottles open and a blush across his face. Placing the lids back on, he shook the bottles up and handed one to me.

“Take one,” he said, I shook my head.

“I’m tired, remember? Do you think that drinking alcohol will help that?”

“One beer couldn’t hurt,” the colt reasoned, plopping down beside me. “And besides, that energy drink will perk you right back up once you finish it.”

He did have a point. Shrugging, I allowed my magic to envelop the drink before bringing the lip up and taking a swig. I sighed, the beer was nice and cool. When I brought my gaze up from the bottle to rest on the colt, he was just staring at me silently. There was a sort of gleam in his eye, one that I couldn’t quite put a hoof on.

“So, what’s your name?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“That’s not important,” he mused. “My friends just call me Wolf.”

I screwed up my face. “Wolf? Rather predatory don’t you think? What’s the story behind that?” I asked.

As I took another drink I felt an unusual surge of arousal, accompanied by an undercurrent of giddiness, grab me. I froze up.

“It is, but I suppose I’m a rather predatory pony,” he replied with a grin.

Somewhere beneath the odd veil that had settled, hampering my decision making skills, I heard alarm bells go off. Something wasn’t right, but my body didn’t feel panicked. I took another drink.

“How…?” I stopped before I could finish the question, just holding back a moan as a second, far stronger wave hit me. Suddenly, the colt in front of me was looking mighty appealing. “…so” I finished my sentence, leaning against him.

I felt utterly concerned and confused, but all that was overpowered by an intense heat that made me simply aching for treatment. I rubbed my mane against his side and grinded against his flank, loosing sight of what's accepted in society as respecting boundaries.

“I think you’ll find that out very soon,” he replied. His voice had gone gruff, and it sounded like he was leering at me.

Bringing up a hoof, he pushed me away and forcefully tipped the drink into my muzzle; cider dribbled down my cheek and rolled off my chin. As a third wave overtook me I began to sweat profusely, the world spun and I fought to remain conscious. I brought a shaky muzzle to his cheek and kissed him passionately. He just sat there, sneering in sick triumph. As he rounded on me, he had a small vial and a miniature syringe latched onto his hoof. I hadn’t noticed them before, because a lime green striped hoof-sock had covered them up; that sock now laid a few hoof steps away in a ball.

“This here is Buck.” He stuck out his hind hoof and tipped the vial, swirling the faintly glowing rainbow colored liquid inside. “It’s the answer to all your problems. You don’t want to be tired anymore, this is the remedy.”

I locked up and stopped kissing him. Even as impaired as I was, there was no way I’d break that easily.

Buck, you mean he’s trying to drug me?

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I questioned, embarrassed at how he’d tricked me. What enraged me more however, was the fact that I still painfully craved for him.

“Oh, I’m not. And besides… don’t you want me for a bit?” He brought a hoof down to my nether region and stroked temptingly. I sighed bitterly.

No, no, no, no, no.

“Yes!” I groaned, pushing against his hoof.

“I’ll give you a deal then, instead of paying me in bits, you pay me like this.” He brought his damp hoof up and smeared it across my face. Before I could react, he pulled me into a kiss that sent me reeling.

“I’m doing a favor for you here, Pon3,” He said, breaking the sloppy embrace. “You have an audience out there waiting for you. It’d be such a shame if you disappointed them. You still have to DJ for another two hours.” He brought one of his rear hooves up and knocked over my energy drink. “And it looks like you spilled your drink.”

Don’t you dare do it, Vinyl.

“I don’t… want… it.” It was getting harder and harder to resist, my body was alight with stifling desire. Tears of embarrassment and defeat streamed down my face to mix with the alcohol. I felt violated and degraded. He brought his hoof up to my horn and roughly brushed it, my breath caught in my throat.

“Dammit, enough!” I whinnied. “Just give it to me, I need you, I can’t, I can’t take it any longer.” I began shivering; my sweat went cold.

“I thought so,” he said, taking the syringe out of its harness and loading it up with a shot of Buck. “It’ll be over in a second.”

No.

Did I mention how fun it is to DJ? I did, or maybe I didn’t. So let me tell you again; it’s so totally amazingly fun! The lights are colorful, I like how they shine. A tip though, don’t look at them directly, they might blind you! But I think that might be fun as well, because then, I would forever have all the colorful lights burnt into my eyes! I loved the colorful lights, but now, I love Buck even more. Or… maybe I shouldn’t be telling you that, Wolf told me to not tell anyone. Wolf. Wolf is so amazing. I can hear him whispering to me in my mind!

~*~*~*~

The Dance floor was in a flurry, but it wasn’t the ponies that were moving so energetically, it was the lights. They had lost all form, and instead resorted to flying at me, burning into my mind’s eye. There was no order here, just overwhelming activity. How long had I been up on stage? Time seemed to fly, while other times, it stood still. I was beginning to feel dizzy, but the massive serge of energy that was pounding through my muscles prevented any notion of actually stopping from entering my chemically hazed brain. All my common sense was out the window, and then probably hit by a grenade. I was acting restless, overworking myself.

As I continued to play, not heeding my bodies scream for a break, my stomach began to churn. Bile welled up in my throat and I cringingly forced it down. I began to DJ harder than ever. Small dribbles of rainbow tinted saliva began to escape from my clenched muzzle, and I brushed them away quickly as to not arouse any suspicion. If my injection of Buck was discovered, I’d definitely be kicked from the club. Soon, my stomach went from churning to all out burning. I slipped up, and my hoof fell onto one of the buttons on my mixer. The music was quickly distorted with a flange that absolutely destroyed its flow; the audience stopped. As the colors disappeared, I was blind again behind my glasses. Quickly, I took them off and looked at the audience. A ‘hush’, or what could be called a hush in a rave club, fell over them. Instead of trying to address the ravers though, I put my hooves again on the turntable and starting things back up. I began an attempt at mixing the new song, but it failed miserably and the audience began to boo.

This could not be happening.

But it was. I was losing it, and it sure didn’t help that I was about to throw up. I’d have to address them, even if the pain in my stomach was becoming unbearable. “Hey everypony!” my voice came out overly energetic, aside from how I was feeling. “I’m not feeling very good, but that’s ok, I just need another…” I stopped and my body convulsed. I heaved, and the pain from my stomach came out to burn my throat before spilling forth. My bile was tinted rainbow and glowing faintly. The audience gasped.

After a moment or so of prickly silence, a stallion from the audience spoke up:

“Buck user! Pon3 is an addict!” A torrent of disapproval contorted the features of many of my fans, turning their smiles of adoration to sneers of hate.

“I’m not!” I retorted into the mic, holding my ground. “And now I can play again! I’m not feeling bad anymore, right?!” I brought a hoof up to start the music, ignorant to the fact that I was being shouted at to get off the stage.

What came forth was a monster of sound and light, the audience cringed; a few from the group even started to leave.

"Where the fuck are you going?" I demanded. "Can't take the beats, pussies?" I brushed away a few drips of Rainbow tinted saliva before laughing for no apparent reason. Everything just seemed so funny to me.

A noise from behind made me stop and turn. Security, followed closely by the club's manager, beckoned me off stage. I shook my head and puckered my lips like a foal.

“I don’t want to; I’ve still got so much energy.”

“Miss Vinyl, that’s not your choice to make,” the manager replied. “If I knew you were on Buck, I wouldn’t of let you back up on stage in the first place. Manhattan's clubs don’t look kindly on drugged up DJ’s, and the only thing that is preventing me from dragging you down from here and throwing you out is because I like you. Step down from the stage, Vinyl; I don’t want to have to make you.”

“Well you’re going to,” I said, suddenly venomous. “Because I’ve still got an audience to play too.”

“Really?” the manager piped up, slowly advancing on me via the stairs that lead up to the stage. “Look around you, Vinyl; they’re as much against it as I am." He fixed me in a stern gaze. "This is my final warning, step down and come with me. I’ll even pay you for the night.”

“No!” I hollered, picking up the table my mixer had been resting on in a field of magic, and throwing it at the advancing security.

It struck them dead on, knocking them back down the stairs; the manager dived out of the way in the nick of time. I gasped. My magic was so much stronger than it normally was; another bonus of Buck, no doubt. My mixer came crashing down, skidding to a stop right before sliding off the stage and into the audience. The left turntable was broken. Fulfilling a shouted order from the manager, the guards rushed me. I tried to pick up my mixer and chuck that, but they were too fast, pinning me to the ground before I could concentrate. I struggled violently against their hold, screaming and hollering profanities; all my attempts only made them hold firmer.

After another minute or so I stopped; as quickly as the sudden surge of senseless anger had overcome me, it’d left, leaving me feeling empty inside. All the fight left me then and I collapsed in on myself. I looked up to see the manager looming above me.

“I’m sorry?” I whimpered. The manager just sadly shook his head.

“Sorry just won’t cut it dear.” He turned to address a third colt, one who had just recently made an appearance from somewhere offstage. “Take her away; notify the other clubs of her problem.”

It was in that moment that the realization of what I had just done, and what he had just said, crashed down on me.