Rhythm sighed softly. The earth pony mare was backstage of the largest gig that would hire her, a small coroner lounge bar in the heart of Canterlot. Rhythm frowned as the makeup unicorn applied her makeup, lipstick, eyeliner, mascara, the whole works. She hated all of this makeup, she always felt fake, like the rhythm she was introducing was not really her.
With that done the master of ceremony ushered the earth pony onto the stage. Rhythm blinked twice, the sudden blinding light robbing her of her vision. Soon enough, though, she could make out the dim outlines of the ponies in the audience.
Her voice rang out across the room, all the patrons hushed the sudden appearance of the cream colored earth mare clad in a shining, glittery, red dress.
"You had plenty of money in 1922. You let other women make a fool of you. Why don't you do right, like some other men do?"
Rhythm stepped forward onto the stage, her blues eyes narrowing under the sudden spotlight that surrendered her. She loved singing, and her voice clearly showed her passion, but she hated that this seemed to be the only gig she could book. She shrank back as she felt the lustful gazes of the the patrons on her...they only card about how she looked, not how she sang. Still she kept on. She was being paid to do a job, not to do something she wanted to.
"Get out of here, Get me some money too."
The earthpony's voice rang out, echoing across the dark lounge, as she slid up next to a corpulent unicorn, one she recognized from the stage manager description of a VIP.
She slowed her song down, her hips gyrating against the wealthy unicorn. She did her best to show her arousal, her eyes flashing desire as she ground against the other pony. The scent of his arousal nearly drove the mare to gagging, but she somehow managed to hold back her disgust.
Rhythm moved on to the next pony she had been directed to engage by the club owner. He was an earth pony, fit and well built from years of hard work, but still rhythm didn't like him from the moment he approached. She could tell that he had worked hard all his life and now was expecting everything to be given to him as reward. His was several decades past his prime and his body was several years beyond that.
Still Rhythm manage to swallow back the bile in her throat as she approached him, trying her best to sensually gyrate he hips toward the VIP, tail flagged so as to show all she had to offer.
"Now if you had prepared 20 years ago, You wouldn't be a wandering now from door to door. Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here, get me some money too."
The cream colored mar returned to center stage as her song came to its end. With every sentence she approached another customer, a pony not lucky enough to earn her full attention, but one rich enough to deserve the briefest moment of her undivided adoration.
"get me some money too.
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here, Give me some money too.
Boy, you know your stuck in cold
Get out of here,
Give me some money too.
Why don't you do right?
Like some men do!!!"
On the final note, with the last high roller taken care of, the cream colored mare disappeared off the stage to thunderous applause. As she made her way back to her dressing room, however, she could only feel one thing...shame.
She hated selling out like this...that somehow this was the only place who would let her sing. She knew they only did so because of her body. The well muscled flanks, the smooth cream coat, and those dazzling blue eyes against her red mane.
Still...she desired to be so much more than eye candy to the perverted stallions. Her cutiemark proclaimed her talent for song and she desperately desired to be know for that talent rather than simply being some floozy simple tramping about on stage.
The show mare's ears pressed flush against her skull, trying to drown out the thunderous applause demanding her encore. This was everything she had ever wanted...and yet, she couldn't hate it more.
An amazing, if sad, depiction of the life Rhythm A Capella had before she joined the Canterlot guard. Just barely a mare, still filled with the optimism of fillyhood while still knowing the bitter cynicism of adulthood.