Up To Scratch

Forming unlikely friendships from bonding over equally unpleasant past experiences... perhaps it was an odd way to have become so close with her once roommate, and now best friend, but how it happened hardly mattered anymore. They were often times inseparable, and the originally awkward question that always came up was nothing but a source of laughter now.

“So... she's here a lot... Are you two together?”

It was to be expected, no one was immune to the curiosity. Even his coach, who the pair had known for months, had finally caved.

“Psh, no. Have you seen the way she dresses?” Baseline jabbed Octavia with his elbow, “Clearly a lesbian, am I right?”

“Well, you're certainly effeminate enough to be a woman. If it wasn't for that whole penis thing...”

Maybe they were too close, but neither of them had any complaints. His coach looked like he might have one, but Octavia had wandered off before he had a chance to vocalize it.

When Octavia had met him, Baseline was a dedicated tennis player aspiring to be pro, and now he had reached that goal. She was proud to say she had been beside him the whole time, and he even credited part of his success to Octavia. He said she had helped him out of a pretty terrible relationship, which had always held him back.

The gratitude was mutual, Octavia didn't think she would have been quite as successful without his support. She had given up her career for a relationship that had ended badly, pushed away her family, and probably compromised bits of her sanity as well. A financial crisis had been looming over her around the time she and Baseline were becoming good friends, so when he had mentioned the idea of renting an apartment together, Octavia happily obliged. They agreed to move out of town, both wanting to put some distance between themselves and the city where they had been royally fucked over.

Still out of work, and having realized she didn't have an interest in performing classical music for a living, Octavia was left to her compositions. As it happened, there was a surplus of film writers and directors that couldn't resist hiring her to compose original music for their movies. So, that's what she did, and nearly three years later, her name was already in hundreds of credits. It wasn't the sort of career she had expected, but it was both enjoyable and payed well enough to be a viable living.

If you had asked her at nearly any point in her life where she believed she would end up at age twenty-six, the answer wouldn't have been here. But she was happy, and couldn't complain.

She had just left the court where Baseline had won yet another regional tournament. Earlier on in his career she would wait for him to head home as well, but now that he had become something of a tennis star, the media always dragged things out. Octavia had no idea how many sports channels there actually were, and how many actually featured tennis, but apparently there were a lot... and all of them were deeming Baseline this year's player to watch.

Chances were they would see each other later anyway, and Octavia had some work to catch up on. The deadline for a piece she needed to complete was only a week away, but the movie it was for was really... dumb. A cliché action movie, and though it was a challenge to work with something that didn't inspire her, at this point she knew what sort of music the directors of overrated action movies loved. She just had to set aside her own preferences and make something that she would normally consider extremely obnoxious.

It was later in the afternoon when a knock on her door made her look up from her work. Chances were it was Baseline, though he usually didn't come by without calling, so when she answered the door she decided to jokingly give him a hard time.

“So you just show up now? Completely unannounced?”

“Yep.” He nonchalantly stepped around her, removing the headphones he had in when he entered. “If you were busy with a hot woman in your bedroom, you have my sincerest apologies.”

He had stopped in the middle of the room and was scrolling through music on his MP3 player, though Octavia shoved him as she walked by, back towards her study.

“Yes, that's exactly what was just happening two minutes ago.”

“Nah...” He was following her, but hadn't looked up from his music, apparently trying to find something. “That would require you to look up from your desk... hey, check this out.”

Poking fun at each other was pretty common for them, so Octavia had shrugged off his comment and took the MP3 player as it was handed to her.

“There's this free download that was set up yesterday, it's ten songs that... it's kinda weird to describe, but you'll love it. Just listen.”

Looking at the screen, the songs were simply titled Track 1, Track 2, and so on. Octavia didn't know what to expect, but put on the headphones anyway.

“See? It's pretty unique. Who knew there was an electric cello, right?” Octavia looked stunned, and offered no comment on the music, so Baseline assumed she was enjoying it. “It doesn't have an artist on there, I'm hoping they'll let us know at some point who this is, they're good...”

“It's me.” She started scrolling through the other songs listed there, still looking shocked. “That's me on the cello.”

Baseline looked a bit confused now. “...Really?”

Octavia didn't respond for a few minutes, apparently listening to the music, so Baseline simply took a seat nearby.

“I recorded these with Vinyl. She mixed the electronic parts, and... from what I can tell, they haven't been changed at all. They're exactly how they sounded back then.”

Octavia took off the headphones and handed the MP3 player back to Baseline. He glanced at her, then back to the device in his hands.

“This site has them posted as some sort of promotional thing.” Baseline looked a bit uneasy, seeing Octavia didn't seem at all happy with this. “You could probably sue. Or, I don't know... does it bother you? You could get them taken down.”

“I don't want anything to do with them.”

Baseline dropped it there, and quickly made an effort to change the topic.

It really, really bothered her. Ignoring it was impossible, and the fact that she couldn't just let it go was another source of frustration for her. It wasn't upsetting that she wasn't getting any credit or profit, she just hadn't wanted to be reminded that those songs existed.

Octavia had checked the source of where they were being made available. The download was being hosted on the website of a company called High Rise Records, which looked to be a pretty large, well known company. On their site they had listed every artist under their label, and not only was the list enormous, Octavia recognized many of the bands and musicians.

She had gone on for a few days trying to forget it, keep herself busy and distracted with anything else, but it didn't work at all. She finally took Baseline's original suggestion into consideration... it might be difficult, but she was thinking of trying to get in contact with someone from High Rise Records.

When she called their listed help desk number, she was already expecting to be shot down, so she really had nothing to lose.

Octavia ended up having to listen to a monotone voice offer her various categories, each one paired with a number to press if her problem fell under that category. Then when a number was pressed, the category broke down into more specific categories... after a while of frustrating number pressing, she was finally placed on hold for 'the next available specialist dealing with issues of Copyright and Fair Use.'

No one had even spoken to her yet and she already wanted to hang up, though luckily the phone was answered surprisingly quickly. The perky voiced woman on the other end happily greeted Octavia.

And then it got strange. Once Octavia had said she was calling about a possible copyright issue with the free to download songs on their site, the woman asked her name...

“I see. One moment, Ms. Octavia.”

She was on hold again, and she didn't know why. She stayed on the line, and a minute later someone picked up. The man who spoke had an incredibly deep voice, which was quite a contrast to the woman she had just spoken with.

“Ms. Octavia, I apologize for any inconvenience this has caused. You are calling about your contributions to several of our songs, correct?”

“... Yes.”

“Again, I apologize for our lack of communication prior to making the songs available. When these tracks were purchased the seller named you as the featured cellist, but we were given no contact information. The tracks are now legally owned by High Rise Records, but a portion of the amount paid to the seller has been reserved, as compensation if you did ever contact us.”

Well, that was unexpected.

“I wasn't really calling about being paid for them... who exactly sold you those songs?”

“Respecting the agreement that was made with the seller, I cannot discuss that information with you over the phone. However, your name was mentioned in the agreement, and we will gladly cover any transportation costs so we may discuss this with you at our main office.”

“I... if I have to speak with the seller, I'd really rather not.”

“We no longer keep contact with the seller. This can most likely be settled by simply speaking with a representative at our main office, Ms Octavia.”

In the end, Octavia had decided to meet with... whoever, though she really didn't know what she was doing. If nothing else it seemed she'd receive a check, but ideally she wanted to have them taken down. An appointment was made, and she received a free train ride out to the city their company was based in.

Most of the city consisted of sky high office buildings, or at least the part of the city she was in. The office belonging to High Rise Records was no different, though they had a giant HRR logo at the top of the building.

Through the large motion activated front doors was the lobby, with several receptionists seated on the opposite wall, a few elevators and lots of men and women dressed in business attire. It seemed the building was designed with a clear color scheme of black, red, and brown, with black desks and other furniture, red carpet floors, and brown hardwood walls.

There was a hulk of a man standing beside the receptionist desk, and he seemed to match the color scheme perfectly. His tie and the large wings on his back were the same deep shade of red, he wore a black suit, and his skin was dark brown... Octavia wondered if that was a coincidence or intentional.

He spotted her and started to walk over, with Octavia meeting him half way.

“A pleasure, Ms. Octavia.” He offered her his hand, “My name is McTwist. I spoke with you over the phone.”

He really didn't need to add that last part, his voice was easily recognizable. Octavia shook his hand, though she really didn't know what to say after that. He seemed to understand, and started speaking again as he led her over to an elevator.

“Your meeting is on the top floor, though the representative I had wanted to speak with you may be running a little late.” McTwist had hit the number four once they were in the elevator. “Typically we aren't so unprofessional. You have my apologies.”

“No, you seem very professional... It's fine.”

This was starting to seem like something bigger than Octavia had anticipated... like something important wasn't being told to her. She really hadn't been told much, but hopefully that's why she was here, so this could all be cleared up.

The elevator opened and Octavia followed her guide down a hallway. At the end was an unmarked door, though it looked like it typically had a name plate of some kind attached to it, which had been taken down. McTwist held the door open for her.

“I'm sure they won't be long. Have a seat.”

The room was pretty large for an office, but that's all it was. A tidy desk, a chair behind it and another chair facing it... Octavia's study at home could have been pretty similar, if she could afford to blow tons of money on her furniture. There weren't any windows, simply the hardwood walls that were used everywhere, but the room was well lit by a big standing lamp in the corner. The office had a a few other features, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Octavia took the seat facing the desk, and McTwist started to leave, but as soon as he stepped through the doorway he must have spotted something in the hall, as he stepped back inside.

“Octavia, please meet the CEO of High Rise Records...”

Vinyl Scratch had stepped into the room and slapped McTwist on the arm as she walked around to the other side of the desk. She was wearing a white suit with a light blue collared shirt underneath and matching light blue tie. Octavia already knew those were her favorite colors.

Vinyl took off the purple tinted glasses she wore, folded them and set them on her desk. “No need for introductions. We've already met.”

She flashed a smile at Octavia, who looked like she was still trying to process this. So, instead, Vinyl turned to McTwist. He was standing by her desk, looking too serious for her tastes.

“Come on, you're my partner in crime... lighten up!” Vinyl put an arm around his broad shoulders and jostled him, though he hardly reacted, still looking solemn and professional. She addressed Octavia instead of him, “Believe it or not, this guy is one hell of a skateboarder. I don't know what he's doing here with me, when he's got talent like that... man, what are you doing here?”

Vinyl had gone to sit at her chair, but McTwist finally smiled a bit and glanced at her.

“Because I love this company, and respect what you do.”

“Aw...” Vinyl swiveled around in her chair so she was facing him, and traced an outline of a heart in the air with her fingers. He chuckled, and she turned back to Octavia. “He's basically a three hundred pound teddy bear.”

“What the hell is this?”

Octavia finally spoke, and she didn't sound the least bit amused.

“What the hell is... what, exactly? I'm Vinyl Scratch, that's Mcwist... this is my company, and I sort of tricked you to come pay me a visit.”

Octavia's surprise had become anger, and she abruptly stood. “Keep the songs, and any 'compensation'... if it means not having to deal with you it's well worth it.”

With that she stormed out of Vinyl's office, though Vinyl looked undisturbed. She stood, and McTwist glanced at her again.

“Should I... do something?”

“No need.” Vinyl pointed to what appeared to be a phone, hooked up to the wall behind her desk. “Have we ever used that?”

“The PA system? I don't think so.”

“Well, let's hope it actually works.”

McTwist watched curiously as she picked it up and began speaking.

“I had something to say, Octavia. See... everything here was built from the ground up. I worked myself ragged for three years to make this, and get here, but it wasn't just about this company.”

Her voice was definitely being heard throughout the entire building, and she didn't sound like she was joking around any more.

“I wanted to make myself into someone I'd be proud of, and if it wasn't for you I'd still be a deadbeat. I said you were an eye opener, and I meant it. You inspired me to become better, and I wanted you to come here so I could say thank you, whether you wanted to hear it or not. High Rise Records partners and employees, please thank Octavia. She's the reason we're here.”

Vinyl hung up the phone, but after a second picked it back up.

“She's the really angry looking woman making a beeline for the exit.”

She hung up again, and this time left it there.

With a sigh she plopped back down in her chair, and McTwist took the chance to offer a comment.

“That was really sweet...”

Vinyl laughed, “Man, you really are a giant teddy bear...”

Big record labels like High Rise Records, or even big companies in general, weren't known for their morally sound business tactics. Octavia was sure a simple search on the web would reveal that Vinyl had more reasons to be ashamed than reasons to be proud.

Not even a block away from Vinyl's office, Octavia had turned to her phone for help, ignoring the missed call from Baseline as she quickly opened a search engine. She knew it wouldn't be a challenge finding unsavory, incriminating details about High Rise Records, or Vinyl herself, so that's what she was going to do.

Skimming over the titles of online articles and news reports, Octavia hadn't stopped to analyze her actions, or try to figure out why this was suddenly such a big deal to her... she only stopped to think once she realized the titles were not at all what she had wanted to find.

High Rise Records First to Initiate Company Wide Renewable Energy Sources via Solar Panels, Celestia Gives Her Full Support

High Rise Records CEO and Founder Sets New Record for Largest Donation Made to Everfree Wildlife Conservation Society

Dozens of Instruments and Musical Education Tools Donated to Schools Nation Wide Courtesy of High Rise Records

CEO and Founder of High Rise Records Personally Organizes National Recovery Effort for Victims of Recent Parasprite Swarm Devastation

It went on and on... and it was completely unbelievable. Vinyl Scratch was a corporate saint, and Octavia couldn't wrap her head around it. How had she even managed all of this in three years?

It didn't add up, nothing here made sense. This whole thing had her feeling mentally spent, and really not up to making the train ride home. Getting a hotel room sounded good right now, so she could recuperate after the surprise and confusion today had brought her.

“Hit me. What's today look like?”

Vinyl was seated at the end of the large table that was typically used for meetings, but right now it was only her and Quick Fix, the man in charge of juggling her meetings and appointments. He was the most organized person she had ever met, and after two years of having him manage her schedule, Vinyl had no complaints. He wasn't exactly someone to go to for casual conversation, but when it came to his job he was a pro. His claustrophobia often kept him out of the office, but every morning the two of them would meet in the largest room in the building, so as to avoid any panic attacks.

“You'll be nearly booked until about 4 P.M., starting in one hour with a telephone conference with Ginseng about a partnership over seas. Our translator will be arriving in 45 minutes, so we don't encounter any misunderstandings, as we did last time. That phone conference should take a hour, but your next appointment is set for a hour and thirty minutes later, on the off chance it runs late. Next...”

A man had quietly entered the room, and Quick Fix glared at him. He was hesitant to speak, until Vinyl turned her attention to him.

He still looked uncomfortable under the glare he was receiving, but explained himself anyway. “Ma'am, you said to let you know if someone named Octavia called, and, well...there's a woman named Octavia in the lobby...”

Vinyl nearly knocked over her chair by standing too fast.

“Cancel everything. Reschedule for tomorrow, or whenever you can.”

Quick Fix's jaw dropped “What... are you serious?”

Vinyl was already at the other side of the room, and didn't say anything more to him, instead thanking the man who had come to let her know about Octavia's arrival. He had trouble keeping up with her as she walked, until she had entered the lobby and suddenly stopped, though he practically ran into her.

She took a deep breath to help her relax before she walked over to Octavia, who was standing beside a desk listening to the receptionist go on about something. When Vinyl joined them the receptionist offered a cheerful singsong greeting, and Octavia turned around to face her.

“Welcome back.” Vinyl looked comfortable, even confident as she spoke to Octavia, though she felt anything but. “You decided to stay in town another day? I had that train ride back set up for you.”

Octavia didn't hide her own unease as well as Vinyl, or maybe she wasn't trying quite as hard. “Yes, I... didn't feel like going back just yet.”

“I don't blame you...” Vinyl was smiling as she removed her glasses and hooked them on the breast pocket of her jacket. “There's a lot to see around here, it's pretty hard to soak it all up in just one day. You want a tour?”

Octavia hadn't expected that sort of offer, but then again, when did Vinyl ever do anything she expected? She had come on a whim, which was probably a really stupid whim, but she had wanted to talk to Vinyl. After what Vinyl had said yesterday, and after Octavia had stopped being mad, she thought she might say thank you... or maybe your welcome. Or both.

And she had expected Vinyl would want to talk as well, but instead she had offered to show Octavia around the city.

“All right... that sounds nice.”

Another stupid whim that Octavia didn't really give herself the chance to consider.

“Great!” Vinyl started towards the front door, with Octavia at her side. “The business district doesn't have much worth looking at, but a few blocks down from here it gets to be less of an eye sore.”

It had stopped feeling awkward, though Octavia couldn't say exactly when that had changed. It was weird, and then it wasn't. Hanging around Vinyl had become more like hanging around an old friend, with nothing about their previous romance having been brought up, and Vinyl seemed content to keep it that way. Octavia was thankful for that.

The town Vinyl now called home was a bustling metropolis, and even though it was huge, walking seemed to be how a lot of people got around. The streets were always jammed with cars, but there were still plenty of cabs in case walking wasn't an option.

It was already late in the afternoon and Octavia had to admit Vinyl was right about there being a lot to see. Museums, land marks, tourist spots, street performers, and the list went on... in the hours they had spent sight seeing Octavia still felt they hadn't yet made much of a dent in all of the possible attractions. Vinyl seemed eager and determined to show it all to her in one day, though she had grabbed a taxi for them both, as she said she wanted to quickly change out of her business attire. Apparently she liked to wear suits to work, but spending hours trekking around in one wasn't very practical.

The taxi was still in front of Vinyl's house... or rather, Vinyl's mansion. It was impressive, Octavia would have bet the price Vinyl payed each month to take care of her lawn was bigger than her own monthly mortgage. The taxi driver didn't seem fazed by the sight of it, but then again, if he lived in the area he was probably used to seeing homes like this.

Vinyl had said she would be right back and darted into her mansion to change, so Octavia had stayed in the car. A few minutes later Vinyl reemerged, wearing a pair of jeans, a tank top and a jacket. She turned around on the way back to the cab, proudly displaying the High Rise Records logo on the back of her jacket. Vinyl's nonchalant demeanor was probably what helped remove the awkwardness from this situation. She was exuberant and just seemed happy to be here, Octavia really couldn't have stayed uncomfortable even if she tried.

Vinyl had just reached the car when Octavia opened her door and stepped out of it.

“You think we could take a break?”

“Sure...” Vinyl looked puzzled, though she remembered Octavia had mentioned she was staying in a hotel. “Did you want a ride back to your hotel?”

Octavia shrugged. “I can stay here for a bit. We should catch up.”

Still a bit wary, Vinyl eyed her for a moment before paying the driver. Once the cab pulled away though, she appeared to be fine, and the two of them walked into the mansion.

There were so many windows Octavia doubted Vinyl needed any sort of lighting during the day. She lived outside the city limits, as did most of the wealthier citizens, Octavia guessed. The lakeside view from the mansion, which was on top of a small hill, made the windows even more appealing, and since she was on a large plot of land privacy probably wasn't such a big issue.

“Vinyl, how did you do all of this?”

They had chatted a lot today, but none of their conversation had been serious, or at all about the past. Octavia was curious how Vinyl had accomplishing what she had in such a short amount of time.

“Laureate helped, when I was starting things off.” Vinyl had walked over to a nearby glass door that led on to her porch, and was sliding it open as she answered. “He passed away, and left everything he had to me. He was getting pretty sick, and he left this letter... saying he was glad I was finally doing something right, and trusted I'd do something good with his money.”

Vinyl didn't go outside, apparently just opening the door to let in the breeze. She started into a nearby living room, and Octavia joined her in a nicely decorated living room. Nearly everything in here was the clean shade of white Vinyl seemed to like so much, but one piece didn't quite match. She was going to offer her condolences about Laureate, but her mind had immediately wandered away from that.

“The rest of it was just working my ass off. If you can set a company apart from the rest, make it unique and attract people's attention... that was a big part of it. And having a nice starter fund helped, of course... people keep trying to say I'm too young to be doing this, but the way I see it, I'm not bankrupt yet. Far from it, actually.”

Vinyl had laid down on her white leather couch, but Octavia was still standing, staring at the dark gray electric cello set up on the other side of the room as if it were a decoration. Vinyl didn't need to see what she was looking at to know that it had caught her attention.

For Octavia, it had become weird again. What had possessed her to go see Vinyl, and to spend time with her? And she had spent that time as if they were friends, rather than telling Vinyl how much Octavia despised her.

Why was she here? What had she been thinking? Vinyl couldn't answer those questions, but there was one question Octavia was wondering which she probably could.

“Why did you keep it?”

“What was I going to do with it... throw it in a landfill?” Vinyl gestured for her to sit, and Octavia finally pulled her gaze away from the cello, though she didn't take a seat. “How are you and your parents?”

Even if she wasn't staring at the cello anymore, Octavia's thoughts weren't on what Vinyl was asking her. She didn't answer right away, and Vinyl groaned.

“You're really failing at catching up, Octavia...”

“Well, I'm sure you can understand that this is a bit odd for me.”

“It doesn't have to be.”

Vinyl's nonchalance was starting to bother Octavia rather than ease her frustration, and her tone of voice was making that clear. “Considering how we left things, I think it does.”

A tense silence filled the air between them. Octavia was feeling overcome with regret, she should have left on the complimentary train ride out of here and never looked back.

When Vinyl broke the silence she was looking at the ceiling rather than Octavia. “I haven't been with anyone. Not since we last saw each other.”

“And why not?” Calling out Vinyl was a great way for Octavia to avoid asking herself similarly difficult questions that she didn't know how to answer. Vinyl didn't say anything though, instead she had gotten off the couch and walked over to a nearby wall, leaned against it and looked deep in thought. Octavia wasn't going to let up on her though. “You need to move on. I did, and you should too.”

Vinyl's stare was cast to the floor. She looked to be thinking very hard, resembling how someone would look if they were trying to solve a difficult math problem in her head. Octavia couldn't see any reason to stay, but as she turned to leave Vinyl started talking.

“When I was a kid, I liked music... electronic music especially.” Vinyl was speaking softly, though she was still loud enough to be heard. “Later on I realized I liked making it and playing it more than just listening. I could make people move just by sitting behind some screens and buttons... it felt good, I felt like I belonged there. It took two seconds for me to decide I wanted to do this forever... Maybe you felt that way with the cello.”

Octavia had turned back around to listen to Vinyl's musings. Vinyl kept it together, but she seemed to become more passionate in what she was saying as she went on.

“I think most people only feel that once, but I feel it every time I look at you. Like, hey, I'm meant to do this... I'm meant to be here, with her. But if I've just fucked it up too badly, or if you've moved on, you should go. I'll leave you alone.”

Vinyl was still calm, but hearing the way she had spoken and seeing the way she looked, Octavia didn't doubt the sincerity of anything she had said. Even what she had mentioned earlier, about not being with anyone else all this time. It was completely believable, though what Octavia found far less believable was the sudden disappearance of her anger. At least she could begin to connect the dots, to understand the driving force behind most of her actions today and piece together the bigger image of what she had hoped to accomplish.

Octavia had wanted peace of mind. Vinyl was somehow still in love after not seeing her for three years, and it was clearly hard for her, but she wasn't being selfish about it. She wasn't begging for her to stay this time.

Vinyl couldn't hold Octavia's gaze and quickly looked away from her, only to have her eyes drawn back once she realized she was walking towards her rather than walking away. Maybe she had expected to be slapped, because she seemed surprised, even as Octavia grabbed her by her jacket and gave her the quiet but adamant command of, “C'mere.” Even as she pulled Vinyl into a kiss, and Vinyl pulled her into her bedroom, followed by the pulling off of clothes, she still felt like she was in a confused stupor.

Only when she woke up the next morning with her arms around Octavia could she say it had finally begun to sink in. Somehow things had been set right again, and if it was up to Vinyl, this was how they were going to stay.