Chapters Vinyl Scratch: it's not even her real name; her real name is something not many ponies actually know. She is a famous DJ that goes by the alias of 'DJ-PoN3'. Officially, she doesn't even exist. At some point, everypony knew the name 'Vinyl Scratch' ,and a few retain that knowledge. She is a known fillyfooler. However, recently, even those ponies who remembered, began to forget. She is at the lowest point in her career. She is in the 'Shadow'; the shadow that covers every forgotten pony. This is her story.
Octavia Philharmonica: a name that some say 'will be heard through the ages'. Whether or not that's true, her name is one you can hear in every corner of Equestria. Everypony knows her name. She is a world-class cellist. She has a secret that no pony, including herself, knows. She is at the highest point in her career. She is in the 'Light', the spotlight of the world. This is also her story.
Author's Note
Just a starter with background information. Give me some comments, but cut me some slack, this is my first fan-fic.
Chapter One: The Spotlight
***Nothing different, just minor edits***
Fiddling with my cravat nervously, I sat backstage. Is everypony ready? Oh, I hope everypony's ready. Am I ready? I think so. Should I go check? -
"Stop messing with your bow tie Octavia, you are making us all nervous."
He interrupted my thought process! "You know very well that it's not a bow tie Frederick, it is a cravat , and I cannot help myself, it is not straight !"
"Oh please, Octavia. You know very well that it is. Just. Fine."
"No! It is not fine!"
"Octavia. Octavia! Stop!" he ordered; I stopped. "Thank you. Now, you should make sure your cello is in tune."
"But I already che-" I started. Frederick leaned in close.
"Just go and make sure, it will help you calm down," he whispered.
I pursed my lips. He is right. It will help me calm down. Poor Beauty Brass, she looks pretty shaken. "I- Okay. I will be in the back room re-tuning my cello."
*Knock-Knock*
I breathe deeply. "Yes?"
"Octavia?" says a small voice from the other side of the door. Harpo. Figures that they would send him to get me. I find it harder to get mad at him than anypony else. I don't think Frederick wants to talk to me after what happened earlier, and Beauty is likely still too shaken up. Good choice.
"Yes?" I said after a moment. "Sorry, got lost in thought."
"We are about to go on stage, and we need our cellist," he replied meekly.
"Of course. One moment please." If that stallion had some backbone, he'd have mares practically crawling on him. Pity. After a quick look in the mirror to check that my mane was straight and my cravat wasn't crooked, I open the door. "Lead the way," I said, stepping through the door and closing it behind me.
As we all set up on stage, we can hear the audience shuffling about on the other side of the curtain.
"It sounds like a full house tonight." Wow, Frederick's still talking to me.
"Yeah, it does," I said with more than a just a bit of a sigh.
"Something on your mind?"
"No," I lied, shaking my head. "Why do you ask?"
"You are usually-"
"Positions!" somepony shouted quickly, cutting him off.
"We will have to continue this chat of ours later. Now, it is time to play."
I make sure I'm in my proper place, my cello and myself, in perfect balance. My bow in hoof. What song are we playing? Iambica Heartstrings' Twelfth D major. Okay. I'm ready.
The curtains are drawn from somewhere off-stage, and I get a brief view of the crowd. Standing room only and not much of it.
I closed my eyes and began the piece on a long low G, only to fall in to a high staccato rhythm that faded out slowly after a few short moments. I sigh inwardly, maintaining my half-smile. This is going to be a long night
"OCTAVIA, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN US FOR DRINKS TONIGHT?" And now my ears are ringing.
"Beauty, you're shouting again."
"WHAT?"
"I said 'Beauty, you're shouting again!"
"Jeez, no need to yell, Octavia."
"I-" I start. "I am sorry, and no, I am afraid that I will not be able to join you for drinks tonight."
"Whyever not? You of all ponies need it, if you ask me," Frederick butted in.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" I said, working myself into a bit of a tizzy.
"Nothing!" he said a little too quickly.
"Right," I look at the clock. "As to address your first question, one of my strings is nearly broken, so I must hurry over to the music shop on Clopperstone since they're the only one open at this hour, it would not be good to forget about it."
"So, this is where we part ways then?"
"Till next time." I leave the group with brief hugs and proceeded to trot away. Great now I'm alone with my thoughts...
As I canter through Canterlot, I can't stop feeling so alone. Not in the 'It's past 11pm, nopony is awake' sense but in the 'When I go home, it will just be me' sense. I've got to get away from my thoughts. I see a shooting star, and, knowing that it's either a comet passing by, or just a meteor, I still found myself thinking Why the hay not I whisper the little rhyme and my wish.
"I wish, I wish, upon a star, that when I wake I won't be far, from my dreams, coming true. I wish, I wish, oh yes I do, I wish that I weren't so very alone."
Author's Note
Hey, if you're reading this than I bet you're somewhat interested. If you read my little rhyme aloud, I applaud you. Throw up a thumb or throw down a comment.
Chapter Two: The Wrong Side Of The Track
Did you know that you can see the strangest things in Canterlot? For instance, I'm keeping an eye out for an ostentatiously bright green statue of Celestia on my way to 'Beats 'n' Jams'. Quite strange indeed. What street is this? Trottingham? Good, not far to go at all. It seemed strangely empty, even for this time of night. This area almost always has a certain amount of activity, but now, now it's just... desolate.
*Clatter*
"Hello? Is somepony there?" Celestia, I sound so weak .
"Uh... no~?"
"...Really?"
"Really."
"So... Nopony is there?"
"Yes."
"Hello, Nopony."
"..." Now they're clamming up . "Hello, Octavia."
"How-"
"Newspapers and such."
"Ah. I see."
"Do you?"
"Well, I can not see you, but I can see what you mean." Who is this mare?
"No, no you can't."
"M-may I?"
"May you... what?" Why do I want to see her? Her sense of humour leaves something to be desired.
"May I see you? I want to put a face to the voice that has been so kindly wasting my time." Speaking of which, what time is it? I'm sure it's getting awfully late.
"Well, if you put it that way, then no. No you can't!"
"Fine. Well, I must be on my way then. Go tell your little friends that you got to talk to me." I exhaled sharply. I've got this... Yeah, I've got this... I think... Maybe...... nope. "Can you direct me to 'Beats 'n' Jams'?"
"Filly, you're nowhere near Jam's place. Come on, I'll show you the way." Was that a mood swing?
"Does this mean I get to see you, then?"
A white unicorn steps out of an ally way. She's kinda pretty. I'd bet my bow tie that she has somepony back at home for her. "Unless you plan on following my voice." I hate it when hooligans like her have a point.
"Lead the way."
"So, do you have a name?" Never let it be said that I'm antisocial.
"Maybe."
"..." And the silence ensues.
After a few long moments, she finally said, "Vinyl Scratch."
"Huh?" What?
"My name. Vinyl Scratch, it's my name. Don't suppose you've heard of me before, have you?"
"No, I am afraid I have not." It sounded like I should have though. "Why?"
"A while back, I was as famous as you are now. I made a bad call, and I suffered for it."
A story is no good without back story, and a back story only makes sense if you have something to relate it to. An overview is a synapses of what happens in the story. Is there a back story to this excerpt?
One tiny, little question later. "What was your 'bad call'?"
"Having faith in my following." Not what I had in mind
"Why was that a bad call?"
"Can we not talk about this right now?" she snapped. I'm not antisocial, I'm just bad with ponies. "Look, that was uncalled for, I know, but considering how far I fell, can we just... not?"
"I am sorry. I had overstepped my boundaries. How much farther until we get to 'Beats 'n' Jams'?"
We stop in front of a place called 'Sound Barrier'. "No farther actually. We're here."
"Thank you so much, Vinyl. I suppose this is where we part ways then?"
"Can you find your way home?"
"Hmm..." Let's see, I go down the street, take a left... I glance at her. But I want to learn more about her, like why's she wearing sunglasses? In the middle of the night no less... "No," I finally say, "I don't believe I can. Could you help?"
"Yeah, course I can. Just go and get your cello strings."
"How-"
"I'm not going to bother explaining; just accept it."
"I'd like to know."
"I was at your show tonight. I'm surprised it didn't snap on stage."
"Then why were you on Tro-"
"I might explain later. Just go and get what you need."
"Okay." She's right, I have no place butting into her life. "But this place is-"
"Open. 'Beats 'n' Jams' closed a few hours ago. You were actually about a block away from it where we met."
I draw my lips into a straight line and then nod my head, saying, "I see," as I open the door.
It was a quiet little shop. Well kept. Not a spec of dust in sight. Quite the collection of records on sale. I went and got the strings I needed to replace, grabbed a few records from the shelf, and was walking up to the counter to pay for my goods, when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Just a spot of electric blue. Upon closer inspection, it was indeed the exact same color as Vinyl's mane. I picked the record casing up and saw in bright neon pink at the top 'VINYL SCRATCH'. The price tag was nothing to sneeze at, but I always bring a semi-large sum of bits with me. I added it to my little pile of merchandise at the counter and paid for it all.
"I haven't sold anything by Scratch in a few years! What makes you pick it up?" said the old mare as she rang me up.
"Just looked kind of interesting, I suppose."
"I don't judge."
I look around, but can't seem to spot Vinyl anywhere along the street. I guess she had better things to do. I continue on home, where the final thing on my list is: a nice glass of whiskey.
"BOO!"
I squeal. Then I sigh. Then I turn to the rude white mare that's suddenly next to me and say, "That really wasn't funny, Ms. Scratch."
"Are you kidding? That was hilarious. I mean- You squealed! And what happened to Vinyl? Why am I now 'Ms. Scratch'? It makes me sound old ."
"Nothing happened."
"And that looks like more than just strings in your bag. What'd you get? Huh- huh? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!"
"Just some Bethooven, Bach, and Chtrotski."
"Oh, but that's booooring. Why don't you get some DeadHor5?"
"Dead horse? What?" What is this crazy mare talking about?
"Bah, never mind!"
"So, 'Tavi, what're you up to tonight, 'cause I'm bored off my flank."
"Well... Wait, WHAT? Did you just bastardize my name?"
"No, your name just has too many syllables for me, I mean Oc-tav-i-a [ok-tey-vee-uh], four syllables, 'Tavi [tah-vee], one. You can't have more than three if you expect to keep your name."
"What?
"You never answered my question: what're you going to do tonight?"
"Well, I was just going to have a drink, listen to music, and then go to bed. Why?"
"Can I join you for the drinking part, and maybe the bed part too, depending on how I feel?"
"WHAT?"
"Relax, I was joking about the bed. So can I?"
"I don't know, can you?" Ha.
"Yes! Yes I can." Should've seen it coming. *Smack* "Eh, you alright there 'Tavi?"
"No, my hoof just got the sudden urge to bury itself in my forehead."
"Okay. So where's the booze?"
"I don't keep any 'booze', I only keep classy alcohol. And it's in the bottom cabinet to your left."
"Cool!" I go into the next room, leaving her in the kitchen. With my cello set down in it's proper place, I return to the kitchen.
"You call this classy?" she says, holding an almost toxic green bottle I'd hoped to never see again. Pan-Equestrian Gargle Blasters.
Chapter Three: What Happened (To You)?
The normally pristine, perfect, elegant living room of Octavia Philharmonica was in complete disarray. Every one of her sixteen paintings were crooked; what's more, they were all at the seemingly exact same angle. Her three couches, which were placed for perfect symmetry, were not only off kilter, but one was upside down. The curtains were open and shining down on one ash grey, charcoal maned mare.
"Ngh..." I'm afraid to ask myself, but... What the happened last night? Hmm, nothing? No memory what-so-ever? Oh well, maybe it's for the best. Alright, upsy-daisy. I try to sit up only to find that it was harder than it sounded. Where am I? I'm at home, I know that, but where? Looking around, I find that I'm laying across the back of one of my couches... that was upside down.
Okay, how about we review what we can? Let's see, last night, I played at my ensemble's concert. Afterword, I went to go and replace my cello strings. Yes, and then I met Vinyl- VINYL! Where is she? I manage to roll quite gracefully (not) off the couch.
"Vinyl! Are you still here?" Oh, I hope she's alright.
"Shhhh, 'Taaaaviiii. Make quiet happen," said a small voice from nearby.
"Vinyl, where are you?"
"I'm praying to the great rum gods to have mercy."
"Sounds like you're under the couch." The couch that I was just on top of.
"Yeah, it's nice and dark in here. You should come down here."
"Vinyl... Get up."
"Wait, I gotta find my glasses." Purple lensed, black framed obstructions more like it. I still don't know why she's got to wear such horrid eyewear. How can she even see?.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"The glasses, why do you wear them?"
"Filly, nopony gets to see me without my glasses. Even if the princesses asked my to take them off, I wouldn't."
"That still doesn't answer my question."
"You want to know what I just realized?"
"What?" She's avoiding my question.
"Breakfast sounds really nice. Doesn't it?"
"Well..." Wait, why is she still here?
"Vinyl, why are you still here?" There was a long pause. That was tactless. Never let it be said that I'm anti-social, I'm just socially awkward. I nearly facehoof at the thought.
"Oh, FUCK !"
"Pardon?"
"My stuff. It was out all night, unguarded."
"Where is your stuff?"
"Remember where we met?" I shook my head. "You asked me why I was there after your concert?"
"Possibly..."
"If you and I are thinking the same thing, which actually, when does that ever happen? Anyway, yes, I'm homeless, and yes, just about everything I own is probably gone. Everything except my turn-tables, at least."
"Well then, let's go and get them," I say, perhaps a little too forcefully.
"Where am I going to put it though?"
"In the spare study, where else?"
"Wha-?"
"I need somepony to make sure this house isn't so Celestia damned quiet. You seem somewhat rowdy, but good hearted, and, what's more, you need a place to stay. I've certainly got the room." Why? Because I need somepony to come home to. You're not quite what I had in mind, but it looks like my wish came true.
"Why?" I just- Wait, those were just thoughts. Think, think, think!
"Uhh- Because you need it, and because I need more friends. So come on whaddya say?"
"Okay, bu-" At that moment Vinyl Scratch learned something very important: hooves are kinda disgusting.
"No." Blunt and to the point. "Now, stop dilly-dallying, and get your flank in to gear. I can't imagine turn-tables being very light."
"Wubbsy! Oh my Celestia, you're alright! Do you still have all your songs?" *Click* "Yes, everything's still here. Do you still work?" *WUB!* "Oh! Glorious day this!"
"Wubbsy? Really?"
"Yes Wubbsy."
'Wubbsy' was currently situated at the back of a deplorable dead-end alleyway strewn with trash and over-clichéd items.
"Well, it's time to get Wubbsy home, then. I don't want to spend any more time than necessary here."
"Understandable. It does kinda stink like a week-old cadaver."
"How long did you stay here?"
"Only a few weeks. I was about to move again anyways, that's why all my super important stuff was inside Wubbsy."
"Smart. Where did you get Wubbsy?"
"Get? As in 'buy'? You under estimate me, I made Wubbsy... from Scratch." At which point my eye began twitching uncontrollably.
"Never, ever make a pun like that again," I hissed. "Understood?" A feeble nod is the only response I got. "Good. Now let's be back home by lunch."
"Uhh, 'Tavi." *twitch* "It's more like dinner time. Heh."
"You're kidding, right?"
"Look up."
"I'm gonna have fun with my ensemble tomorrow."Look at this!
Chapter Four: One Missed Day
A pleasant aroma sauntered through the house, teasing, in a most unpleasant way, one Vinyl Scratch.
"Taaaviii! When's dinner gonna be done?"
"If you keep whining about it, it will only take longer. Anyway, the daisies are almost done, give me, oh I don't know, ten minuets?"
"But Taa-aa-vii-iii, I'm hu-uu-uu-ngry-yy-yy. Isn't this a war crime?"
"What?" Wait, I know where this is going, crap.
"Cruel and unusual punishment?"
"So, you're saying you need to be punished?" What? Ohh, no. No. No. No. No. I did not just say that.
"What? Celestia, did you really just say that?"
"I-" *BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP* "Fuck, dasies..."
"You do what to dasies?"
"So, you gonna tell me about your daisy fetish?"
"Vinyl, do you even know what fetish means?"
"Well, of course I do. It means... ah... um..."
"Let me help you," I rise from my place at the table and go get my trusty old school dictionary. "It says: Fet-ish noun, 1. an object that is believed to have magical power. 2. Something to which excessive attention or reverence is given: an age in which hygiene has become a fetish. Nothing to do with what you though it did."
"..."
"Finish your dinner so I can go to bed. I'm going to go fit your room with fresh sheets."
After the bed was fitted with fresh sheets, I went looking for some headphones.
"I don't know how your house works, but normally sheets are in a linen closet, not the study"
"EEP!" I shoot a menacing glare at Vinyl. "I'm not looking for sheets, that's already done with. I'm looking some headphones. I want to listen to my new music."
"Oh, you could've just asked me. I've got loads of them. C'm'on, follow me." Are we going to Wubbsy? Yes, yes we are.
"Thank you, Vinyl." I finally get to listen to that record. I wonder what kind of music she makes.
Once I was ready to crawl into the folds of my bed, I plugged the headphones Vinyl gave me into the record player. I removed Vinyl's... vinyl from the stack, removed it's cover, and set it on the deck to play. It started with some loud cheering. Oh... That's why this album was so expensive, it's live.
"This is DJ-PoN3, the Diva of Dubstep, here to rock the house with y'all. So let's make some NOISE!" Ow.
The first song on the track was something called 'Pony Rock Anthem'. It started out fine. I closed my eyes and even started doing a stupid little dance. That is, until I heard her; the pink menace. My eyes snapped open... only to find bright ruby red ones staring back. What did I do? I screamed.
"I knew you'd react this way. Everypony does." She quickly closed her eyes. Then I registered the voice, and then the horn, white coat, and the ragged, beautiful, bright blue mane. Vinyl.
"What? No! I screamed because I was in here making a fool of myself, not expecting anypony else to be in here. No, you have beautiful eyes!"
"Really?"
"Really, Vinyl. Your eyes are gorgeous from what I saw. Can I see them again?" She cautiously opened her eyes. "Your eyes are amazing Vinyl! Actually, could you not wear your glasses while you're here?"
"...Only if we don't have company."
"Thank you. Why did you show me? You said, and I quote, that 'Even if the princesses asked my to take them off, I wouldn't'. So, why?"
"I don't know, you've just done so much for me after knowing me for... not even a day. I just thought that I might be able to trust you with this."
"Well, if you trust me that much, you should look at the record player."
"Huh?" She trots over. "Heh. Pony Rock Anthem. Not my best piece. The next track's way better. Do you mind if I stay to listen?"
"No, not at all." So we sat on my bed and listened.http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=zCihrA91f-Q
*Update*
I'm really sorry about this, but, WIAS is going to be postponed... again. Maybe a week, probably less. Life's just overwhelming, and people are sucking. Let's see if I can't get a life again.
