Why was she bound to be so... Stereotyped? She had wanted to be different. Not trapped in the same repeated world. But to outshine and reach past the stars, see what lay beyond her future, experience the moments like never before. But here she was, facedown, wound up, ready for everypony's amusement. Not that she hated it, but the steadily increasing rot building up inside was enough to pause and question her motives. What was her purpose in life? To live as a peaceful citizen under the Royal Equestrian Princesses? Tick, done. To fiddle with electronical harmonies and spread joy through the gateway of music? Check, done. To feel special? Like she was blessed with life to do something? Something worth her entire lifespan? That was a blank box. But she was hoping to soon find it. Soon find it, or else die trying. But first... First she had to tear off these wires, these cables of electrified peer pressure. Because soon... Soon she would live up to the name of what was hers, and hers only. Vinyl Scratch.