Truth is...
Some things never change.
Club, live house—whatever the venue, it doesn't matter. Attractive people always get approached more often. That's the ironclad law. So, for someone like Garden Gale, whose face was practically catnip for other Umamusume...
Just how many times would she get hit on, and what might happen?
She shuddered at the very thought.
...
Right now—Garden Gale was utterly dumbfounded.
Was this perhaps her first-ever experience being approached like this? Her fingers stiffened, not daring to twitch.
She didn't know whether to accept or refuse. Should she say yes decisively to avoid disappointing this person, or politely decline by claiming someone was already here? But what if they persisted and refused to leave?
Even setting that aside...
Would the other girl be hurt if she rejected her?
Hmm.
She had no clue.
Right now, all Garden Gale knew was that she knew nothing—a philosophy worthy of ancient Greece.
Seeing Garden Gale remain silent, the girl repeated her request. "Mind if we share the booth? It's close to the stage." She blinked expectantly, assuming Garden Gale hadn't heard clearly.
"Ah..."
Garden Gale's mouth opened slightly—
But no words came out.
Her voice was stuck—only a small squeak escaped, like she was mute. The girl in front of her even briefly wondered if this cool-looking stranger might be deaf or mute. But why would someone who couldn't speak or hear come to a live house? That seemed pointless, didn't it? Thankfully, that thought vanished quickly.
"Yes, go ahead." Garden Gale adjusted nonexistent glasses, trying to sound aloof—
Yet inside, panic reigned supreme! Despite her internal chaos, she couldn't bear disappointing the girl's hopeful expression, nor did she have the courage to refuse.
"Thank you!" The girl's eyes curved into joyful crescents as she immediately launched into excited chatter. "I came here just to see ! monad! She's performing tonight—did you know that? She's insanely popular right now! Even the club's business has improved thanks to her! Honestly, her mixing has this unique charm I just can't describe..."
"If I had to put it into words… ! monad's transitions are incredibly clean! Her sense of rhythm is impeccable!"
Oh no, please spare me the lecture!
Garden Gale's brain was melting.
Instant regret filled her for having agreed earlier—why was this girl such a chatterbox? Garden Gale felt herself dying inside.
Why did I say yes?
Her only comfort was realizing the girl wasn't actually flirting—just a genuine fan here for the show.
Please, please talk less from now on!
Yet, the core issue remained her inability to refuse. Just as she worked up courage and drafted an excuse to end the conversation, a sharp, commanding beat echoed suddenly from the stage.
Clack—!
"Good evening, everyone!"
The flamboyant, charismatic voice instantly stole everyone's attention. On stage, bathed in the brilliant spotlight, stood Air Shakur—in performance attire and flashy pink sunglasses. The entire venue erupted into cheers and applause, crowning her instantly as the brightest star in the house.
"! monad!!"
The girl beside Garden Gale went absolutely wild, eyes sparkling as she screamed passionately: "! monad, I love youuuu!"
Terrifying.
Subtly, Garden Gale slid her chair slightly farther away, wearing an unmistakable expression of "I don't know this person."
Not that she actually did, anyway.
And then—
! monad's unique performance exploded to life. Her music surged from gentle taps into a thundering storm, gradually pulling the audience into her rhythm. It was a classic move—of course, DJing wasn't literally spinning vinyl records like in old-school bands. Modern DJs used turntables and mixers to adjust outputs, tweak frequencies, fade sounds, and manipulate sampled clips.
A genuinely complex art form.
Executing it perfectly—that defined a top-tier DJ.
Don't think DJs are some outdated profession... there's legends like Avicii…
Before Garden Gale could finish explaining to herself, the beats erupted like a downpour, powerful and electrifying! This wasn't just mixing—it was pure performance art. As the saying goes, masters in any field can transform their craft into beauty itself.
Exactly like now.
Air Shakur blazed brilliantly on stage, radiating pure energy, commanding the entire room!
The fan beside Garden Gale shrieked louder and louder.
Garden Gale shrank deeper into her corner, silent, her eardrums nearly rupturing. She absolutely wasn't built for this.
Still, she sighed in relief. At least the "approaching crisis" had resolved itself neatly. Now she just needed to endure quietly until this ended.
Unfortunately, the enthusiastic girl wasn't about to let her go that easily. Catching Garden Gale's vacant, distant gaze, she leaned closer, bouncing excitedly to the music. "Don't you feel it? Come on! This is ! monad—the best DJ around here!"
"Um... I..."
Garden Gale's eyes darted, attempting ignorance, stammering weakly, "I... I don't know much about DJs."
No, no, no!
Fangirl by yourself! Why drag me into it? Can't you just dance on your own and leave me to suffer quietly in peace?
What a nightmare.
"Oh, then let me enlighten you." The fan's enthusiasm soared further, like someone intent on pushing their favorite hobby onto an unwilling friend. "Like I said earlier, ! monad is the most famous and skilled DJ around. She emerged two months ago, and her skills have skyrocketed ever since. Now she's practically a boss-level monster—whether you call her a butterfly or whatever else…"
"Such a shame, though. If only I could chat with ! monad or get her autograph later. I'll try my luck after the show—maybe I'll get the chance."
She glanced briefly at Garden Gale, deciding this stranger probably didn't care much for DJs. At least she wouldn't be competing for autographs.
But even knowing this, she never stopped her torrent of praise.
And inside Garden Gale's head was just one desperate thought:
Please, master, spare me the lecture.
She was about to faint from exhaustion.
---
T/N: here's DJ ! monad (shakur's dj name)
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