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>You are Colt Rain, a saxophone player at heart, and one whose skill is known throughout Equestria!
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>Or… Well… At least as far as the local bar’s license extends.
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>The owner was a fine mare, Flying Buttress, a former weather mare that had the primary feathers of her wings clipped off in a storm cloud manufacturing incident.
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>She’d told you this one night when the atmosphere was dead– her being drunk off her ass as was usual.
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>More often than not, she paid you rather decently for your services, even if it was occasionally in food– not so much bits.
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>It was always on nights like these that really had you in a mood though; By that you meant, ‘Celestia, these mares are driving me crazy’.
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>”H-Hey! Cooooolt Raaaaaaiiiin! Ya can blow MYYYY horn if ya waaaant!”
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>You paid Berry Punch no mind as she laughed with her friends, continuing to play… ‘In The Mood’.
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>She always made comments like that.
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>You’d learned over the past few years to not let those sort of remarks get to you.
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>Remarks you could handle, but it was the… Touching… That actually did get to you, and that’s where Flying Buttress got a little bit less friendly.
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>Not to them, but to you.
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>”Don’t snark back, don’t hit them, don’t glare at them. I need my customers, Colt Rain.”
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>You didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter– you could barely afford rent at your dingy little apartment as it was.
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>Things got pretty hard after Mom died, what with your older sister getting all of the inheritance as was left in the will, and she ALWAYS sided with Mom when she would go on her “You need to settle down with a mare, Colt, give up that horn blowin’!”
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>She would always call you “Colt”, even if that was your name, it felt… Demeaning. Patronizing. You hated it.
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>By the laws of the land though, you weren’t legally allowed to change your name without your Wife consenting to it.
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>You had a hard enough time getting a bank account!
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>Everypony was always so patronizing to you!
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>You knew that’s how it’s always been, but still!
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>It was hard to not feel irritated, and you weren’t one to give up on your dreams– no matter how many mares wanted to ‘purchase services’.
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>”Awwwww… C’mooooon Colllllt! Show us a smiiiileeee!”
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>Berry threw a bit at you, the small gold coin rolling onto the tiny stage, bouncing off of your hoof with the tinniest ‘clink’.
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>It was all you could do to smile, thank Luna’s stars that Berry along with the other drunk patrons couldn’t notice your strained and exasperated expression as you showed them the slightest grin.
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>Flying Buttress smiled in approval behind the bar in your peripherals.
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>Celestia knows you wouldn’t want to make her mad.
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>You continued playing through your set, receiving the occasional hoot, holler, request, compliment, and jeer, but eventually it came time to finish.
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>As you finished your final song, you floated the saxophone down from your lips gently, letting it hang around your neck as you bowed your head.
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“Thank you, everypony! You’re a wonderful crowd as usual!”
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>”Doooo a poseee’scchhh!”
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>Berry cheered out, clopping her hoof on the table, and the other mares situated around the bar– at the tables also cheered out.
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>”Do a pose! Do a pose! Do a pose!”
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>You sighed internally.
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>You couldn’t wait to be a famous musician someday, you thought to yourself as you right-faced and struck a pose.
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>Standing proud and tall, eyes half-lidded as you gazed out over the mares, one hoof under your chin in a display of elegance- they cheered for you as a few more bits came your way.
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>This wasn’t a proud display in the slightest, much less elegant.
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>In all honesty, you felt dirty for doing it, but it’s what brought in the bits.
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>You relaxed the pose after the attention had died down somewhat, and began gathering the bits together in a small bag- about fifty percent of the bits would go to Flying Buttress- while you kept the other fifty percent.
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>Was it fair? Not really, but you had no other real… Choice.
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“Celestia knows I need to get out of here…”
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>You trotted down the short staircase to the main floor, pushing through the small crowd of mares-
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>’SMACK’
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>And there goes one slapping you on your cutie mark just now.
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>Anger built up inside of you, but you couldn’t say anything.
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>”Woah there Colt! You just let that set hang around back there? Y’know if you ain’t getting it tapped then you oughta sell it!”
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>Laughter followed, as well as a wolf whistle.
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>Your face grew red as you hurried back to the bar, quickly depositing Flying’s cut of the bits.
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>The mares continued to laugh all the while.
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>”Yeah! What’re you doin’ hauling that load around all unlocked? Somepony might open those doors of yours and take it for themselves!”
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>Your face grew even redder as you looked down, trying not to meet Flying Buttress’ eyes.
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>She smiled knowingly at you, not saying a word, but you knew what those eyes meant.
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>”I own your ass, Colt.”
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>You got the instrument case from behind the bar and hurriedly packed away your saxophone. All things considered, today was a good day for bits. Maybe you could even go out and get some food… Elsewhere.
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>You rushed out of the bar– right into the cool night’s air, briskly trotting right past a mare with her stallion in tow.
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>As you walked away from the bar, your ear instinctively tilted back as you picked up on their conversation
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>”I’m really glad you aren’t like him, Kale, you’ve been a lot happier as a stay at home dad.”
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>”Yeah! Of course! How couldn’t I spend time with our angels?”
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>He actually seemed happy.
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>You wished that you could be happy like that.
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>Not as a stay at home dad…
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>No, that’s far too unfulfilling for a stallion of your caliber.
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>It does happen!
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>Becoming a talented and prized stallion that is; There have been other colts who go on to become famous artists, musicians, masters of their craft.
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>As few and far between as they are, it’s not unprecedented.
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>Your brownish ears splayed down against the sides of your head.
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>You could do it.
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>Someday.
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>Your hooves clopped somberly against the cobblestone pavement as you walked to the nearest corner store.
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>You lost the mood to go out for food, and instead decided to just pick up something real quick from the store.
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>Meandering about, thinking, you settled on a hayburger from the cheap hot bar- slapping the bits on the counter for the clerk who simply nodded at you.
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>She was actually a nice mare, one that didn't treat you as if you were property.
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>Most mares think stallions are something to be owned, figuratively.
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>Theoretically you had rights, but sometimes you weren't so sure about that.
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>You carried along your saxophone case and hayburger in a dirty blonde magical aura, occasionally lifting the hayburger up to your mouth to take a bite.
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>You wanted a better life, a life that was much more fulfilling than this.
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>You would achieve that, eventually.
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>For now, you just walked back to your apartment.
by pogoman122
by pogoman122
by pogoman122
by pogoman122
by pogoman122