The sound of the door behind her being flung open only made her quicken her pace as she descended the apartment stairs. She wanted to escape, to disappear into the night and move on with her life. Her promising career, her social status, her family... it could all be recovered, if she could just-

“Tavi, wait!”

She climbed down faster still, but she was being chased. She realized it was going to be more complicated than simply walking away.

“Hang on, will you?”

“What do you want, Vinyl?” She had finally stopped and turned, her furious demand coming out as a scream, which echoed through the stairwell. It stopped Vinyl Scratch in her tracks, standing on the landing only a few steps above Octavia.

She was in a pair of shorts and nothing else, though she was covering her breasts with a shirt she didn't take the time to put on. Vinyl always seemed to naturally exude confidence, it was a part of her image, but standing there now was not the reckless young DJ who was so sure of herself. She looked terrified and shaken. Her mind was disoriented, all that she wanted to say was jumbled up, and she had no time to sort through anything. She managed to grab onto a thought, though it hardly seemed like enough.

"I don't want you to go."

“Ah, well, it's a bit late for that.”

Octavia's biting tone and spiteful gaze had Vinyl drawing back, but she wasn't giving up.

“I'm sorry... come back inside, okay? We can talk-”

“Talk? As in, you will try to charm me, so I'll forgot how horrible you are?”

“No! No, Tavi, I-”

“I'm not like you!” Octavia pulled the gold ring she had been wearing off of her finger and threw it onto the steps. Vinyl flinched slightly at the dull clink it made against the floor.

“I'm not a polyamorous... bisexual... sex fiend, alcoholic, narcissistic bitch!” Octavia's face was flushed and hot, as was the rest of her body. She was finally releasing anger that was long overdo. “I don't know what you want from me, and I'm done trying to find out. I'm done, you understand?”

Vinyl didn't follow as Octavia turned and once again headed down the stairs. She remained on the landing, clutching her shirt to her chest, listening to the sound of Octavia's footsteps becoming further and further away, until they couldn't be heard anymore.

One month earlier...

“Octavia, we have a problem!”

The violist of Octavia's quartet was scrambling his way across the room, calling out to her in a panic. He was less than dextrous on his feet, and was disrupting the party goers who they had already worked so hard to please. It didn't help that he was always panicky about something unimportant. She even had a talk with him the day before, telling him not to lose his head unless it was an emergency. If he wasn't such a viola prodigy, she would have replaced him long ago.

“Excuse me, just a moment.”

She flashed an apologetic smile at the people she had just been chatting with. Her performance had ended roughly half an hour ago, and she had been mingling with the guests and graciously accepting any compliments she received. She was also listening for anyone who sounded like they were planning future get togethers, as that meant there was a chance she could offer her quartet as entertainment... though no one would want them if Allegro continued to act like a crazy person.

She turned her attention to him as he reached her. He was violently gasping for air, and Octavia was sure that wasn't necessary.

“Allegro, that embarrassing display was completely uncalled for!” Her scolding was hushed, though her stern tone was still clear. “Why on earth are you so worked up?”

“I, I stepped out for a minute, because these crowds, and these walls, and the talking and-”

“Yes yes, you are a basket case. Get to the point.”

“There's some people out there. I overheard them, they're trying to crash us. I mean, crash the party.”

Octavia's eyes widened at this news, though the momentary anxiety she felt disappeared once she reminded herself of Allegro's wild imagination. “All right, well... if you are sure that's what you heard, show me these 'crashers'.”

“Right, of course!”

Doing a better job of not bumping into guests, Allegro led Octavia out of the ballroom, down the marble staircase, and through the foyer. Their performance had taken place in an incredible mansion, belonging to Laureate, a widower who was probably in his mid 50s. Since the death of his wife he had become devoted to making large sums of money and blowing it on things like this. He had hired Octavia and her quartet to play at his party, which was an annual gathering of high class citizens from all over the world. It was an incredibly big deal for someone in the classical music business to be hired here. The pay was astounding, but it wasn't just that. This party was opening doors for her, and she wasn't going to let anything get in the way of the opportunity to broaden her career.

As Allegro led her through the courtyard, she caught a glimpse of the crashers he had meant, congregated outside the mansions gates. They looked like they had just come from a completely different sort of party, judging by their attire... or lack thereof. The men in their group were almost all shirtless, while the majority of the women were in skin tight, ripped up clothing that showed plenty of skin. They belonged in a trashy nightclub, not loitering outside a mansion.

There were two security guards at the gates, and more of them were posted at other entry points around the mansion. She was doubting any of them could get through, but as she got closer, it was clear they were trying to plan a way to get in.

Allegro was nervously muttering to himself as they approached the gate. “Allegro, you can go back inside. I'll handle this.”

“Yeah, ok, you got this.”

He scurried off, and Octavia turned her attention back to the gathered miscreants. The gate glowed a dark red and opened for her, one of the guards apparently using his magic to open it. They gave her a nod, but the group she was concerned about didn't seem to notice her. She was watching them from a short distance away, trying to assess the situation.

It looked like they wanted to scale the tall fence around the mansion. Or, that was what they were planning, judging from some of the gestures they were using. They all seemed to be chatting amongst themselves, but at a few points, they all went quiet and looked towards the center of their group, then went back to talking.

Octavia realized there was a woman sitting on top of a small speaker, right in the middle of them, and whenever she spoke they all intently listened.

Like the others, her clothes didn't cover much, leaving most of her exposed. Her top looked more like a strapless bra, though she was wearing an unzipped jacket over it, which Octavia thought was rather stupid and defeated the purpose. Her entire midriff was showing, as was most of her legs, since she wore a scanty pair of shorts full of rips. A big pair of boots finished her nonsensical outfit.

Now that she noticed, she was watching Octavia as well, peering at her over a pair of purple tinted glasses. She was still talking to the people around her, but her eyes remained fixed on Octavia. It was... strange. But Octavia was staring back.

One of the crashers said, rather loudly, “Let's just do this!” And that was where Octavia decided to confront them. The girl on the speaker smiled as she walked over, and the others stopped their chatter as she invaded.

“Are you the ring leader of these clowns?”

The question was directed towards the woman on the speaker. It was a valid question, since she seemed to be the only one who could grab their attention as she had done several times.

“Yeah, sure. That's me.” She didn't miss a beat, and continued, “Welcome to the circus, Bowtie!”

The others snickered, but Octavia ignored them.

“Have you met security yet, or would you like me to introduce you?” Octavia didn't seem to intimidate her.

“Nah, we met 'em. Not very nice, are they?”

“Not to you, I'm sure.” Octavia crossed her arms, “You can't hope to get into that party. Leave before we call the police, all right?”

“What a fucking pessimist this chick is!” She was talking to her group, as if the scowling cellist wasn't right in front of them. But she quickly turned her attention back, “Of course we can get in. And where's the law that says we can't party?”

“It's called trespassing.” Octavia folded her arms, “You're not very bright, are you?”

“Bright?” She turned back to her group, looking like she was about to burst into laughter, and as she spoke, several of the others around her started chuckling. They were picking up on something Octavia was missing. “Is it bright in there? We don't do bright.”

Several of them had already begun walking away from the mansion's gates, and the woman who was talking with Octavia stood up. One of the muscular men grabbed her speaker. “Maybe next time, Bowtie?”

And they were leaving, just like that. Octavia was beyond confused as she watched them go, though she eventually decided to return to the mansion, trying not to give the odd encounter any more thought. She once again began mingling, though about ten minutes later, the party encountered a problem.

The power went out. Throughout the entire mansion, they had completely lost electricity. The ballroom erupted with questions of what was happening. Laureate tried to get the power back on, but failed, and in the end, the party was cut short.

The outage seemed to be a mystery to everyone, but Octavia had a good guess about how it happened.

Two days later, she decided to return to the mansion, to tell Laureate of her suspicions. She had been allowed through the gates without question, which surprised her, and she was even more surprised when Laureate, who had been lounging in the courtyard with a book, stood to warmly say hello. They exchanged greetings, and he even remembered Octavia's name.

“You're good with names, Laureate. I'm impressed.”

“Oh, no, I'm terrible with names!” He laughed, rather loudly, then added, “But how could I have forgotten the young cellist and her quartet, the highlight of my party? It was short, and disastrous towards the end, but looking back, I hope the guest will remember your performance before the power outage!”

“Thank you, that means a lot.” Octavia hadn't expected any of that to be said, and lost her train of thought for a moment, but reeled it back in. “Laureate, about that power outage...”

“Such embarrassing business that was!” He was a loud man, Octavia was quickly realizing, but amiable regardless. “My niece was responsible for that. She's a bit of a troublemaker, so I asked her to stay out of the party... but she found another way to make trouble, of course!”

“You have a niece?” Octavia asked, trying not to jump to any conclusions.

“Yes, she's a lovely young woman, when you get to know her. But that would involve actually getting her to sit still so you could talk! She's a bit too energetic for her own good.”

“Ah... does she live with you?”

“No no, I doubt I could handle her! She lives downtown, in the rather nice apartment. Those are difficult to find in that part of town, but it really is nice, as apartments go.”

“I see...”

Laureate waved for Octavia to follow him inside, “You looked like you wanted to tell me something, and it's rather hot out today. Shall we talk inside?”

“Well, I was actually coming to tell you, I knew who had cut your power. But it seems you figured it out.”

“Blue hair, never wears enough clothes, has a rather unsavory entourage?”

Octavia nodded.

“Ah, you met her! That's Vinyl Scratch.” Laureate headed inside his mansion, and Octavia followed. “That's splendid actually, do you think you could do me a favor, Octavia?”

She didn't like where this seemed to be going, but she responded with an agreeable, “Certainly, Laureate.”

“I have a package I need delivered to her as soon as possible.” There was an ornate marble table in the foyer, towards the side of the stairs. A wooden box was sitting there, and Laureate picked it up. “Her parents passed a year ago, you see- my brother was a dedicated traveler, but the poor fool died during a zip lining venture in the jungle, along with his wife.”

“That's.. very sad. I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Tragic business, that certainly was. But, such is life. Or death, as it happens!”

He spoke of it very casually, and Octavia decided he was just overall an odd man. Though he seemed to have good intentions.

“Anyway, though we had most of their belongings returned to us with their ashes, some more of their things seem to have turned up. Octavia, if you could deliver them to her, I would be grateful. Uppercrust is having a little affair on her yacht next week, I would certainly put in a good word for you, she loves live music.”

She really didn't want to do this, but in her mind, she wasn't being presented a choice. This was for her career, sacrifices had to be made.

“I'll head over right now, Laureate.”

Author's Note

For anyone wondering, a quick note on aspects of this universe: Unicorn magic still exists for characters who were originally a unicorn, though horns don't. Their hands glow, rather than their horn. Wings still exist for characters who were originally a pegasus. The two are different races than regular humans. Cutie marks do not exist, but having a destiny and discovering it as a child still happens.