Might I suggest some background music?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIiUqfxFttM
Have you got the music on? Good. Read on.

“…And stay out!”

A unicorn, his normally bright blue coat muddled with dirt and whatever else the decrepit cobblestones of the alley could stick to him, the suit he wore disheveled and hastily patched at the seams, flew out of the door, thrown with excessive force by the bouncers hired by the club for just such a situation.

“If I catch ya here again, Imma break ya legs. Ya hear, boy?”

The blue pony laughed, a grim chuckle that almost caused the bouncer to cringe. “Yeah. See ya next week, Ma’am.”

The bouncer shook his head. “Why don’t ya go make somethin’ of yaself, stead ah wastin’ ya life on that damn music dream ya got?”

The pony rose to his hooves, rubbing his head. “Next time, don’t throw me on my head. I need this precious mug.”

He preformed a perfect about-face, his suit swirling around him as he did. He picked up his hat, tipped it to the bouncer, and sauntered off, a light jump to his step, humming an old jazz tune.

As he set a course for his usual hangout when a gig went sour, he took a glance around him. The surroundings matched his mood: A somber grey twilight mad the buildings surrounding him nothing more than iridescent shadows, the rising moon struggling to maintain the semblance of light. The glows it did produce fell on the larger buildings and casted long, obtuse shadows, concealing a vast majority of the outskirts of Ponyville. The wind blew slightly, cause for a rational pony to wear a scarf. The entire town was cast in a sepia tone grey hue brought on by lack of light, turning the edges of the horizons into mush and making the few lit tamps hanging outside the only significant sources of light for any pony who wandered the streets at this hour. Several buildings still had lights on, but a vast majority of the houses and businesses of the town had closed down for the night, the “closed” signs he continually encountered proof of his theory. A club nearby was still jumping, computerized bass pumping from the confines of the bar.

“Whoa, buddy. Slow down!” the owners of the voices were several stallions exiting the bar. They were all clearly inebriated, but all but one was barely able to stand, the effects of alcohol raging through their systems like a virus.

As he passed the party, one pony stumbled. Acting on instinct, the blue pony created a cushion of magic under the inebriated pony, cushioning his fall.

“Whoopsie… thanks mate.” He slurred. No more thanks were needed. It wouldn’t be given, either, as the ponies stumbled around the corner and disappeared.

-----

The door to Sugarcube Corner jingled with a staccato “clink” as the unicorn entered, removing his hat and reclining on a stool next to the display case.

“Well lookie here! Hiya Suits! Another gig gone down the drain?” Along with the voice bounced a pink mare, a mass of pink curls bobbing in step with her. The one piece of color that wasn’t distorted by the sepia tone twilight outside.

“Ooh yeah.”

“Neato! What did you do this time?”

The pink mare’s enthusiasm for his story made him smile. “Pinkie, it’s a BAD thing that the gig fell through, remember?”

“Pff, yeah, I knew that! But when it does happen, you always have a funny story of what you did to make it go wrong!”

To that he had no argument. For all his successes, he was notoriously hard to work with. He convinced himself that this only made him more desirable, but deep down he knew all he was doing was losing opportunities.

His thoughts were interrupted by one Pinkie Pie, defying all imaginable laws of physics by hovering in front of him, suspended in mid-air by some unseen force. He waved a hoof over and under the mare, making sure no trick wires suspended her in fau-flight.

“Erm, well, I just got into an altercation with a particularly drunk patron about the adequacy of my song selection. We got into a bit of a fight, and I won. After we carted him out, the owner got all mad at ME for fighting. Can you believe that?” The mare could only nod in agreement. “Anyway, we got into it, and I might have, kinda punched him.”

“NICE!”

“Yeah… nice. After that, I got tossed and came here.”

“Well,” said Pinkie, “My doors are always open! And for your troubles, a double choco-tastic cupcake, no icing!”

“You know just how I like them, Ms. Pie.” He bowed curiously, taking the confection in the hold of his magic and taking a bite. Most mistook his favorite sweet for a muffin, but Pinkie knew the difference, and that’s why he gave the mare’s shop business.

“So, Pinkie: How’s business?”

This got the mare off and running, so to speak. He knew from experience that Pinkie could talk for hours on end, if left uninterrupted. Her chatter, although mostly contaminated with gossip and mindless ramblings would, sometimes, morph into intelligent, intellectual discussion.

This, however, was not going to happen tonight.

“Pinkie,” he said, distracting the mare from her most recent tangent. “I need to go. Beauty sleep and whatnot.

“Oh… Okie dokie lokie!” The slightest hint of sadness crossed her face, forcing her usually bombastic curls to droop.

“Don’t worry, Pinkie. Celestia knows I’ll be back sooner than I’d hope.”

Her smile returned, her hair returning to its former state with a whoomph. “Yay! I’ll be waiting!”

“I know you will. Until then, Ms. Pie.” He bowed, brandishing his hat in a flourish before adorning it at a crooked angle on his head. He tossed the remnants of his confection into his mouth, and disappeared out the door.

The world had not changed since he entered the shop, sans a slight change in the sepia tone world around him. He sighed, and then began to trot to the edge of town. As he did, the wind picked up slightly, forcing him to pull his suit up against himself to preserve warmth.

Gonna be a cold one tonight.

He reached a sheltered archway, over which a small bridge was precariously placed, the supports long rotted away. He re-draped his jacket over himself, and sat down on the cold ground, shivering slightly as he did so. He tipped his hat over his face and closed his eyes, preparing himself for another cold night under the bridge.

“Soon,” he thought, “I’ll be living it up in the spotlight. No more living on the ground. I’ll be the biggest thing to ever hit Equestria. That’ll be the day…” he mumbled as he drifted into another night of fitful slumber, his body rooted to the present, but his mind floating in fantastic dreams of the future.