A Scratch on the Surface Ch. 1

Dawn broke slowly on Manehattan. The city was already awoken and full of noise - of course, Manehattan was possibly the one area of Equestria that never slept - but now there was the distinct sounds of hustling and bustling; morning workers piling into offices and setting up for a day's work; market stalls being constructed and furnished, laden with goods of all kinds to sell in the squares; retailers turning over the "CLOSED" signs on their shop windows and opening the doors wide to custom. Ponies of all kinds were waking in a way that was clouded over with disappointment and dread; even the weather reflected the general mood as a low mist clung to the city, sticking to buildings and splattering pedestrians with a light, irritating rain. It was Monday morning, the morning nopony likes to see.

Nopony, that is, apart from a young stallion in a high-rise apartment towards the west of the city, going by the name of Marble Star. He was an earth pony; black and white pinto in colour and relatively thin, with a neatly layered mane falling just past his shoulders and a forelock which covered his eyes just a little. His cutie mark was a plain black star, but a large and clear symbol, indicating that he was somewhat involved with showbusiness. The stallion seemed undaunted by the day of the week, and hummed a tune contentedly as he made his way around the neatly furnished and decorated kitchen of the apartment, singing along to the radio that played in a far corner of the room. Marble Star was preparing food in an elegant and delicate manner, arranging and re-arranging the crockery and cutlery to a perfect fashion, as if it meant something important to somepony. The food itself was of the best kind one could find in the city; softly toasted wholemeal bread, freshly cut hay, juicy and ripe fruit, and a pot of coffee, strong and flavoursome. It was a meal for somepony very, very important, and that somepony was just awaking in the next room.

Sunlight poured into the bedroom and fell into the eyes of a unicorn mare, white in coat, who lay snuggled up in her covers on the large bed. She let out a groan, and turning over, her attempts to shut the day out were thwarted by the arrival of Marble Star with her breakfast - just like every morning. The mare in her bed was Vinyl Scratch, or DJ PON-3 as her stage name read - infamous club music producer and disc jockey, a platinum record selling artist who was admired and respected all over Equestria. You would be forgiven for thinking that Marble Star, breakfast tray in his hooves, was a relative or partner - he was merely her agent, manager, spokestallion, assistant, companion and faithful servant. In all truth, the pair merely passed as being "friends"; but they were like-minded in their line of work, and to Vinyl, that was pretty much all that mattered.

"Good morning to you, Scratch." Marble carefully set the breakfast tray down on the bed and gave the young DJ a warm smile. Vinyl heaved herself up and blinked, startling crimson eyes bleary, cobalt-blue mane tangled and tousled. She looked down at her breakfast then up at Marble with a grin, before wordlessly tucking in. It might have seemed rude to another pony for not having received a greeting of any kind, but Marble was used to it. He wouldn't expect a thanking, either, which was fortunate - as if he was, he would be disappointed heavily by Vinyl Scratch.

The stallion then trotted into another room momentarily, before returning with a folder marked "Marble's Organiser". It was large, packed to the brim full of paperwork, forms and invitations and fan letters, all stored by the efficient colt as a mild way of keeping Scratch's life in order where he felt she wouldn't be able to alone. Opening the first page onto a diary, he flicked to the day's date and looked over it before reading it aloud to the munching DJ.
"All right. So today, you're needed at the opening of that music centre for disabled foals in Fillydelphia--"
"No can do." The mare waved a hoof at Marble, dismissing the idea entirely.
"And why not?" said Marble, although he knew perfectly well what was coming. So well, in fact, that he could have probably mouthed along with Vinyl's next words as she said them.
"Look, Marbs, I'm a big-show star. I've told you before, I'm not doing any small-town events because they're just not worth it. I need better than that. I'm too good for Fillydelphia, we can both admit it."
"But they're counting on you out there! This is a big opportunity for those kids, can't you see that? Most of them will never be able to play music like you can."
"Then why should I care?"
It was a cold comment, and it sent a shiver down Marble's spine. He secretly couldn't tolerate her callous, throw-away attitude in the slightest, but this was his job, so he did not object.
"Very well, Vinyl. I will contact them as soon as I can and tell them to find a replacement. Better?"
Vinyl took a sip of her coffee and nodded. "Much better. What else?"
The stallion peered back down at his organiser. "A photo shoot. For Manehattan Mares magazine, two-thirty this afternoon."
"Good... and?"
"And a DJ set at the after party of a premiere for the Bridleway adaptation of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', eight forty-five tonight. I know you don't... appreciate Flankspere all that much, but it will be a very high-profile event."
Vinyl sat back on her pillows for a moment of thought, brow furrowed in concentration, before concluding her opinion.
"Anything high-profile is good enough for me. We'll keep that."
Marble nodded, and with another bright smile, he shut his organiser and strolled out of the DJ's bedroom, leaving her to eat in peace.

Later that day, Marble accompanied Vinyl on a shopping trip on the higher end of the city's retail area. The two spent hours browsing over dresses and scarves and shoes and earrings, all intricately patterned and all with a hefty price tag; but money was no object for such a high-flying mare such as DJ PON-3. Admittedly, clothing wasn't exactly her thing, but she had mixed with the right ponies for long enough to obtain a good fashion sense and a pride for what she wore - not to mention the ability to strut along confidently in her high-heels in pretty much any situation. At this point, Marble was merely a companion; not being at all fashion inclined, he was forced to sit on the sidelines and only give the most basic of advice to the DJ's choices. However, not unlike most stallions, he didn't mind this option at all. The most 'fashion' Marble Star found himself accustomed to was the colour and style of writing quills.

On arrival at the photo shoot at two-thirty, Marble was once again bereft of his client as she was whisked away by a group of ponies in rather bright outfits. From here, she was covered in make-up, dressed and re-dressed about fifty times, and had little choice in the matter before being flung out in front of a harsh spotlight and a camera. Despite this fast pace, her smile remained, and as she posed for the camera the claps and cheers from the designer ponies and make-up artists could be clearly heard. The photographer, going by the name of Focus Snap, turned to Marble during the interval and clapped him so hard on the back he almost spluttered out the tea in his mouth.
"This girl is a superstar! Are you her manager?"
"Uhm... yes. I am her manager, agent, spokestallion, companion and assistant, sir."
The photographer widened his eyes with a grin. "Well you do have your hooves full, don't you? You must be very pleased with her."
"Oh yes," Marble smiled as nicely as he could. "She's my very best client."
Vinyl Scratch was, in fact, Marble's only client - but he was not about to let an important pony know that. As they had taught him in showbusiness school, "Never let the truth get in the way of a good story."

What followed the photo shoot was an interview with Inksplotch, a Manehattan Mares journalist with a reputation for getting the worst out of celebrities. Her questions proved to be... challenging.
"So, DJ PON-3! How's life?"
Vinyl smiled smugly. "Better than the best you can imagine. I think we can clarify that I got it good. I'm living my dreams!"
"Fantastic! So ahead of your new album release, Party Ponies, what are you thinking? What are you expecting of your success on this one?"
"Well, that's obvious," beams Scratch. "The same I get from every album. Platinum."
"Oooh, aiming high, huh? Well, I wish you the best! So, may I ask, who are you celebrating your success with? Got somepony waiting back home?"
"Hmm? Nah, nopony. Apart from my manager Marble of course. He's great. He's like a husband, really, just without the mushy romantic ties."
Inksplotch raised her eyebrows, before calling Marble over. "Is that true? Are you like a married couple, Marble Star?"
Marble was aghast. When was he told he'd be brought into this? Besides... he was already married! To a mare who was good, kind, helpful, selfless... in a nutshell, nothing like DJ PON-3.
"W-well... I'm already m-married... uhm..."
"Well, would you wanna be with Scratch?" continues the bubbly journalist, ignoring the stallion's clear distress. "She's the mare every stallion wants to love, right? You get a very personal insight into her life."
"Uhm... o-oh dear. Uhm... I think..." Scratch's eyes burned into him from behind her glasses. Never let the truth get in the way of a good story. But... Marble was a good stallion, and he was not about to ruin his marriage over some celebrity.
"Even if I was not married, I think I would remain in a professional relationship with DJ PON-3. Nothing more."

"I cannot believe you."
Vinyl Scratch had not said another word to the interviewer, and once they were free, she had scolded poor Marble for all he was worth.
"You were supposed to say that you'd drop everything to be with me! You're supposed to have a huge crush on me, remember? Just like hundreds of other ponies!"
"I am not obliged to say or do anything of that sort, Vinyl. As much as you may wish it, I have no romantic feelings for you. I am happily married."
"Equestria didn't need to know that!"
Marble ran a hoof through his mane before it slipped back over one eye once more. "I'm not discussing this any more, Vinyl. I do so much for you, and the thanks I get for it is humiliation."
The stallion walked ahead along the street, and Vinyl called to him.
"You get paid for the things you do for me! Isn't that enough?"

The afternoon was spent in a subdued mood. Marble never liked to hold a grudge against his client, but sometimes she tested his patience to the very limit. Getting ready for Vinyl's set at the premiere was an arduous task without communication between the two, but somehow they managed, and at eight forty-five, Vinyl Scratch stepped out onto Bridleway's red carpet, joined by her manager. The pair were greeted by actors and playwrights alike, and soon they made their way through the theatre and down a spiralling staircase that led to a high-profile nightclub. The nightclub was hazy with smoke, music and strobe lights - just the sort of environment Vinyl was used to - and she spent a few moments preparing backstage before trotting out in front of the crowds to play her set.

The night was just like any other night for DJ PON-3. Ponies of all kinds danced their hooves off on that floor, most of them heavily intoxicated and all of them enjoying the music to the most of their abilities. True, Manehattan was a classy city, but that did not mean the residents didn't let their manes down given the opportunity; and tonight, anything seemed to go out there as ponies hooked up, made out and danced off, all in sight of the young DJ who spun her records and worked her music like the professional she was. Marble was backstage, as always, discreetly hiding away from the mess and noise of the club. He wasn't particularly taken with the DJ's idea of a "good time", so, like every night, he modestly kept himself to himself backstage, talking to nopony except to call his wife and let her know that yes, he was still alive.

A few long hours later, and the party was finished. The club was slowly being vacated, and DJ PON-3 was slumped against her DJ deck, completely wasted. It would now be Marble's job to pick her up, drag her home and set her down in bed, with an aspirin and a glass of water on her bedside table ready for whatever ridiculous hour in the afternoon she decided to wake the next day. He did this with no complaint, plucking her off the stage and helping her to walk down the winding streets and avenues of the city before reaching the apartment block, and after holding her mane back for her while she unceremoniously expelled the contents of her stomach into a nearby bush, he dragged her up the staircase and to her home. After getting her in bed and tucking her blankets in over her, he sighed.
"This has gotta change, Scratch." he said to himself. "You can't go on like this."

The problem Marble Star had was that Vinyl had no reason to change. She was set in her ways, a mare of her own mind, and like she had said to press reporters and fans alike, she was completely unstoppable. She would have to undergo some sort of huge life-altering event to think twice about her flashy lifestyle, and that was quite unlikely. With another sigh, Marble Star picked up his organiser and left the apartment to go to his own home. He would likely not get much sleep tonight, but what was new about that?