Fingers dancing over the myriad of knobs and buttons, sweat beading on his forehead and a determined grimace on his face, the DJ wove his web. Throbbing sound thundered from the great speakers like a torrent of molten gold, touching hearts and souls alike. The dancers spun, feeling the music touch them as they enveloped themselves in the storm of sound. Lights flashed and the smell of sweat permeated all.

Beethoven stood, hands clasped behind his back, and watched from the bar as the music whirled around him, raging water flowing around a resolute stone. Cheering and whistling echoed around the room as the music began to fade at last. With a blink, Bach turned his attention from the DJ to the crowd, watching the happy, sweating faces as they turned, smiling. Handel glanced sidelong at his companions.

“And vot did you make of zat?” Bach coughed politely and sipped his diet coke noncommittally. Ludwig smiled, wryly.

“To play vizout passion is inexcusable! zis touches zeir hearts. Zat is all zat matters."