Manehattan Narrative

And I did; for it didn’t take long for this place to be completely filled up. After twenty minutes of playing my set, which would make the time twenty after ten, the entire dance floor was taken over by crazy dancers who were yelling at the top of their lungs and having the time of their life. They seemed to be taking a strong liking toward my stuff, which gave me nostalgia as to why I do this sort of thing; and—even though I didn’t have the pony who should have stuck with me through everything I ever dreamed of doing—I knew I’d be fine since I was starting a new life right here in Manehattan. And that was good.

Flicking up my shades and lowering my headphones, I raised my hooves in the air and cheered to the huge crowd with a smirky grin. Then I spoke in the microphone. “What’s up Spotlight‽ How we doing tonight‽” A loud cheer came from the crowd after I asked them

Right now, there was a remix I made from a song I heard on the radio a long time ago. It was a classic, one that wouldn’t be easily forgotten, at least with me anyway. When that track was done, I swiftly switched records, this time for a heavier, deeper, and intenser bass tune to it. Cranking up the volume, all I could hear were the thumps of wubs, pumping through my body and the nightclub, something that made me feel happy and in the right place—albeit my ears didn’t agree with me.

The thing about being a DJ, I’ve learned over the years, was that you had to be careful with how you treat your ears. It’s not really all the obvious, considering that your job as a DJ is to blast a place out with loud music—but you have to do it in a way that won’t make you deaf, trust me. Sure the crowd was hearing the same thing I was, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as being right in front of the source. Luckily for me, the track that I just put in was reasonably long, which gave me time to go backstage and take a small breather, and maybe see