She was quiet, and that was just cause for worry. Sarabandes was almost always engaged in a conversation about her incredible musical talent, stunning beauty, or anything else that could build up her enormous yet ever growing ego. As a well know, successful multilingual pop singer, it wasn't hard to find someone who would fawn over her, but now she was curiously detached. She had been ignoring everyone in the club, and hardly said a word since she arrived.

For anyone who didn't know her, Sara probably seemed to be spacing out, but that wasn't the case. If she was silent she was most likely plotting something, it became common knowledge after spending some time around her.

She was intently watching the DJ from a plush couch that lined the back wall of the club, her expression impassive, though she had taken on a faint smirk as she stared. Her buff, tight shirted boy toy beside her seemed oblivious. She was holding on to his arm, and suddenly tugged him to get his attention.

“That woman is very attractive. Do you agree?”

“Wha... the DJ?” Since it was so loud, they had to yell to be heard, even directly next to each other. The man looked from her, to the DJ, and then back to her. He looked nervous about answering, and Sara rolled her eyes.

“The answer is yes, chiquito.”

“Oh uh... then, yes. But not as attractive as you.”

He tried to kiss her, but she held up her hand.

“Would you like to sleep with her?” Her eyes remained locked on the DJ on the other side of the room, and the man beside her stammered. “If you would, you are invited to join us tonight.”

“Wait, like... like a threesome?”

“Yes.” Sara's tone lacked inflection, but her snide grin remained.

“Why would you want a threesome? I'm not up for that...” He seemed upset, and Sara finally turned to look at him. “Am I not good enough? I thought we were...”

“Pobrecito mijo! You are like a tiny love struck kitten...” Sara dropped the heavy sarcasm, “But I do not care. It will take very little time to replace you.”

Dejected, he hesitantly conceded defeat. “A threesome sounds great...”

“Yes, it does.”

A young man suddenly plopped down beside Sara, and she noticed the black marker X's on the top of his hands. He happily greeted her as she eyed him.

“Hey, you're Sara? Like, Sarabandes the singer, Sara? My dad runs this club, you like it?”

“Who is the DJ?” Sara's eyes had strayed back to her newly found object of affection, and the newly arrived young man followed her gaze.

“Oh, you like the music? That's Vinyl Scratch. Went to school with her, a few years behind her though, but-”

Sara stood up and walked off, pulling her date along with her. They ended up against a different wall, closer to the DJ, and she turned to her date.

“You go away, I will handle this.”

All night, Vinyl had hardly looked up from her work. It was nearing midnight now, and since the club felt more like a furnace, she had taken off her tank top earlier. It was stuffed in her back pocket, and she was just wearing a bra and a pair of jeans. Several people had approached her, trying to talk or flirt, but she had disregarded every one of them. Sara was no different, Vinyl didn't acknowledge her presence at all. The large headphones she wore helped with ignoring everyone.

Suddenly, Vinyl's headphones were removed from behind her. She whipped around to glare at the headphone thief, who was a woman she vaguely recognized as some pop singer. That didn't change her reaction.

“What's your problem?” Vinyl tried to snatch the headphones from her, but the woman held them behind her back with one hand. Her other hand was holding an unopened bottle of vodka, which she offered out to Vinyl.

“I'm Sara. Maybe you have heard my music?”

Vinyl looked at the bottle, then returned to glaring at Sara. “Yeah, but I don't like pop.”

“I would have to agree. I am what you would call here, a 'sell out'.”

Vinyl glanced at the bottle again. “What do you want?”

Sara's smile broadened as Vinyl's hostility seemed to turn down a notch.

“I want what you want. To drink and have a good time... but you have not had a drink all night.” She thrust the bottle into Vinyl's hands. “It is sad. You are too... tense. You need a drink.”

Sara stepped forward, so she was right against Vinyl, and put the headphones back on her. She lingered a bit longer than she needed to, but eventually left and disappeared into the dancing crowd. The look she had given Vinyl as she walked away made her guess that wasn't the last she was going to see of Sara.

Vinyl looked down at the bottle she held. They sold this sort of vodka here, it was expensive, and worth it. It was great in jello shots... or regular shots, for that matter. When was the last time she had a shot? It felt like too long ago.

But she didn't need a drink. When she would play at clubs, usually she drank, but she didn't need a drink.

Besides, she had told Octavia she wouldn't.

“Can you not put your feet on the window?”

“They're not.... oh shit, yes they are.” After some struggling, Vinyl repositioned in the back seat of the car. “My bad driver dude.”

“And I would appreciate it if you put your seat belt on.”

“For sure, that's a good idea!” A minute or so passed of silence, then Vinyl suddenly whined, “Why do they always make these so hard?”

“Forget it, we're almost there.”

Unrestricted by her supposedly complicated seat belt, Vinyl leaned over into what was certainly the driver's personal space. “So, I have a question... Do you hate your life? Because you look like you hate your life.”

They sharply turned, and Vinyl grabbed onto the front passenger seat as if for dear life. The cabby held back a laugh.

“Dude! I'm drunk and I could drive better than you!”

They came to a screeching halt, and Vinyl clung to the seat again.

“We're here. The fare's thirty-”

Vinyl handed him a bill, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Twenty dollar tip, because you hate your life, and that's just depressing.”

She had a hard time opening the car door, but once she figured it out, she was only a few staggering steps away from Octavia's front door.

Luckily for Vinyl, her ability to speak coherently was one of the last abilities she would lose when she drank, but her balance was one of the first. By the time she was drunk enough to have slurred, mostly incomprehensible speech, walking wasn't even a possibility.

But she was still drunk. It would be a challenge convincing Octavia she was sober, but if that didn't work she was sure she could defend her decision to have a few drinks.

It was early in the morning, a little past three A.M., but Octavia had said Vinyl was welcome to stop by no matter the time. So, here she was, waiting for Octavia to respond to the knock on the door.

She had knocked... hadn’t she? As Vinyl was trying to remember, the door opened, confirming that she actually had.

Octavia threw her arms around Vinyl almost immediately, and since she was already a little wobbly, the two almost fell over.

“Whoa... did you miss me?” Vinyl was confused, but she couldn't say this was a bad greeting.

“Of course, but that's not...” Octavia took Vinyl's hand and led her inside the house, “I'm just really proud of you.”

“... Thanks?”

When they reached Octavia's room, she turned to Vinyl, now looking a bit embarrassed. “I got a little nervous tonight, so I decided to stop by Vertigo...”

Vinyl had turned a bit more pale than what was her natural skin tone, but Octavia didn't seem to notice.

“I saw that trashy pop singer all over you, and Vinyl, I just...”

Looking undeniably scared, Vinyl stammered. “Okay, listen...”

“I saw you shoo her off, and it just... thank you.” Octavia gave her a tight hug, which Vinyl hesitantly returned. “I'm sorry I didn't trust you.”

“Uh... no problem.” Vinyl's drunk brain couldn’t quite piece together what had just happened. She decided it was best not to question it... this was a good thing. “Sorry, I'm not really... with it, right now...”

“Yes, being drunk does that... but it's fine.”

This was all going better than Vinyl could have hoped. Octavia didn't care that she had gotten drunk, was really happy with her because she had seen... something, which Vinyl still didn't understand, but right now she didn't care to. Octavia had just taken off her shirt, revealing that she wasn't wearing anything underneath, and that smile she had was the best kind of invitation. What had happened earlier tonight was behind her, and Octavia was in front of her... right now, it was as easy as that.

They had been incredibly productive today. Octavia had played a bit, but most of the work had actually been done by Vinyl, who was mixing the cello recordings with her own electronic music. Octavia was coming to appreciate Vinyl's genre... and at this point, it was her genre as well. The cello played a big role in the songs she had created, Octavia would simply play whatever she felt like playing, then Vinyl would work with that. When it wasn't at an ear-splitting volume, it was actually nice to listen to.

They had already made a number of songs, and originally Vinyl had said she wanted to make an album. They hadn't discussed it at all though, not since Vinyl had convinced Octavia to cooperate.

Vinyl was intently working, but she would stop the moment Octavia spoke. Octavia could always command her attention, and she really didn't even need to try. Vinyl was always eager to be distracted by her, always happy to listen and watch her with what seemed to be boundless admiration.

“Hey, Vinyl...” As expected, Vinyl stopped her work and turned to Octavia. “We've made a few songs now, and I was wondering... did you still want to make an album out of these, or something like that?”

“Yeah, of course.” Vinyl leaned up against the console she had just been tinkering with. “Is that what you want?”

“I... don't really know how that works. I'm up for it, but would we need to be working under a record label?”

Vinyl shrugged. “We can figure that out when we come to it.”

Octavia didn't doubt Vinyl knew what she was doing, so she left it at that. Besides, she looked too tired to discuss it anymore, but that wasn't her fault. She had been yawning all day, and wasn't quite as energetic as usual, but her late night of DJ'ing, which ended up becoming an even later night at Octavia's house, was the reason for that. Octavia didn't feel exhausted, but then again, Vinyl had been working while Octavia spent most of the night comfortably in her house.

“Maybe you should get some rest, Vinyl.”

“Yeah... I guess.” She didn't look thrilled about that suggestion, but was apparently too tired to deny it being a good idea.

The two left the room, Vinyl turning off most of the equipment with her magic as they went. Octavia followed after her, stopping in the living room when Vinyl took out her phone to check the time.

“I guess I'm turning in kinda early.”

“That's fine... I'll see you later.” Octavia gave her a goodbye kiss, but when they parted Vinyl was smirking.

“You sure?" Vinyl tossed her phone onto the nearby couch, so her hands were free to place on Octavia's hips. "I'm not that tired, you don't have to leave yet...”

“I think a zombie would look more lively than you right now.” Vinyl looked a little disappointed, but that didn't change Octavia's mind. “Go get some rest.”

Vinyl didn't need much more convincing, and Octavia suspected she'd probably pass out the moment her head hit the pillow. Once she had gone off to her bedroom, Octavia went to pick up her jacket, which was lying over the arm of the couch. As she put it back on, Vinyl's abandoned phone briefly buzzed, and the message of a newly received text flashed on the screen. Octavia had just glanced at it, not thinking anything of it at first, but the words caught her attention.

Maybe she had misread. She wasn't reading it up close, so that was possible... but she picked it up and read it closer, and it definitely said....

Sara told me to send u these

Attached to the text were quite a few pictures, but they weren't displayed. Octavia would have to open them.

Sara was the shortened name of the singer who she had seen with Vinyl, but apparently, the person who had sent the text wasn't her. The number wasn't a contact in her phone, so there was no name to put with it. She couldn't yet bring herself to open the photos, but she didn't want to simply set the phone down and forget about this. Whatever this was about, it didn't feel right.

It might not have been a wise choice of action, but Octavia called the number that had sent the texts. She walked into the kitchen as the phone rang, not wanting her conversation to be heard.

It was a man who answered, and he didn't sound happy.

“What do you want?”

He must have thought it was Vinyl, that made sense... Octavia was calling with her phone, after all.

“You just sent my...” She was going to say girlfriend, but for some reason, decided against it. “You just sent Vinyl a lot of pictures. Who are you?”

“Who are you?”

It took her a moment to decide how to answer that. “I'm just a friend of Vinyl's.”

“Right...” He laughed, though it wasn't exactly a jovial one. “Did you look at the pictures I sent, Ms. just a friend of Vinyl's?”

“Um, no...”

“Well why not? Check em out... maybe tip off a gossip column or something. I tried telling Sara it was stupid to send them, so it's her fault if they end up on magazine covers, or... whatever.”

Octavia didn't like this one bit, it was all adding up to make her very anxious. She wanted to hang up there, but she didn't.

“Look, I'm kinda busy... you can call me back later, if you feel like it... not on Vinyl's phone. Don't want to be reminded of that bitch.”

Octavia wasn't sure what else to say, this had all blindsided her. It seemed she wasn't expected to say anything more, though.

“My name's Baseline, for future reference.”

With that he hung up, and Octavia looked at the phone's screen again. Going through Vinyl's phone didn't sit well with her, but it wasn't really an option to her. Something was off, and she needed to figure out what exactly was going on.

Author's Note

I didn't really proofread this, I hope it doesn't sound like it was written by a first grader.