Music to His Ears

Chapters

Chapter 2 - Coming Out, Again
Chapter 3 - Stress
Chapter 4 - One Step Forward, Two Back
Chapter 5 - End of the Line
Chapter 6 - Moving
Chapter 7 - Welcome Home
Chapter 8 - Old Times
Chapter 10 - Reunited
Chapter 11 - Preparation
Chapter 1 - Dysphoria
Chapter 9 - Progress
Chapter 12 - The First Day of the Rest of Our Lives

Chapter 2 - Coming Out, Again

Evening had fallen over Manehattan. In the upscale part of town, an after-party was being held for participants and guests of the Equestrian Music Awards. The rich and famous gathered in one of the top hotels in Manehattan, the penthouse floor booming with activity as many ponies chattered between sips of wine and champagne. All kept to their own cliques, while in the background, a string quartet played classical music for the few who were paying attention.

Out on the patio, a well-dressed grey earth pony with a long black mane and tail kept to herself. She wanted nothing more than silence. She stood with her forelegs hanging over the low stone wall, with the lights of Manehattan and a glass of wine for company.

“Four years in Manehattan Musical Conservatory, multiple performances with well-known symphonies, and even playing at the Grand Galloping Gala have finally gotten me... here.” Octavia sighed, and gulped down the rest of her glass of wine. “Yet another party pandering to the rich and snobby.” She stared at her freshly-emptied glass for a few moments, then reached for her bottle to refill it.

“What’s a mare like you doing out here by herself?”

Interrupted, Octavia glanced aside to see a unicorn with a white coat and an electric-blue mane had taken a seat next to her, leaning her back up against the wall and sporting only purple sunglasses and an open white jacket. The unicorn pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a brief magical spark.

“Enjoying my privacy.” Octavia knew who the pony was - yet another celebrity who had done nothing to earn her status, but still outshone her own meager fame by far.

“Ah, same here.” The mare looked up at Octavia, flashing her a smile.

Octavia looked back out at the lights of the city. Why had she bothered coming? She knew she wasn’t going to win anything. The conversations she’d overheard were trivial, the violin player in the string quartet was too sharp, and the smoke from that unicorn’s cigarette wasn’t helping her growing headache. Would yet another night alone in her apartment really have been so bad?

“You know,” she groaned, “the point of privacy is that you’re enjoying it alone.”

“Yeah, I know. But why enjoy it alone when you can enjoy it with somebody?”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “If that’s the case, why don’t you enjoy yourself in there with all the other ponies? More must be better, right?”

“Nah, I can’t smoke in there. It’d set off the fire alarm. And besides, everyone in there sucks. They’re stuffy and boring. Actually...” A smile grew on the unicorn’s face. “Maybe I should go smoke in there. It would liven things up, at least.”

Octavia found herself giggling despite everything. “So, you must be...” She tried to recall the name she’d kept seeing on magazine covers at the grocery store lately. “DJ PON-3?”

“Vinyl Scratch,” she replied, extending her hoof to Octavia, who refused to return the gesture.

“Didn’t you win album of the year?”

“Yeah.” Vinyl let her hoof fall, seeming to realize the other mare wasn’t in a mood to shake. “I guess I’m a star now.”

“Indeed.” Octavia poured another glass of wine.

“So, what do you do?”

“I play cello for” – Octavia paused – “well, no one, actually. I fill in for groups that need a cellist while they look for full-time band members.”

“Cello? Isn’t that like an oversized violin?” Vinyl grinned.

“Ah, no, a cello is–”

“I mean, why do they make them so large? Couldn’t they make them a bit smaller so you wouldn’t have to stand up to play it? Speaking of, how do you even stand up for so long?”

Octavia was getting annoyed with the mare’s questions, not just because of how stupid they were, but also how often she heard them.

“Heh, sorry. I’m just kidding.” Vinyl got up and crushed out her cigarette.

“So, how did you make album of the year? I heard pressing play on a record player is quite the challenge,” Octavia snarked.

“Yeah, it was really hard deciding when to press it.”

They both remained silent, trying to hold in their laughter. They couldn't for long, and soon they were both laughing and smiling at each other.

“Oh, and I’m sorry also.” Octavia finally offered her hoof to Vinyl. “My name is Octavia, Octavia Melody.”

Vinyl clung to Octavia tightly. Octavia remained silent, struggling to understand. What could she say?

“Vinyl…” She wrapped her forelegs around Vinyl, who was still shuddering.

“It’s okay.” She rubbed his back, trying to calm him down. “Please…”

“I’m sorry.” Vinyl said, sniffling. As he started to regain his composure, his death-grip on Octavia’s shoulders loosened and he started to breathe more easily.

“No, it’s fine.” Octavia ran a hoof through Vinyl’s mane tenderly. She had never seen him like this.

“Tavi, are you angry?” He pulled back to look at her, but didn’t let go.

“No,” Octavia said, “but if you are not a mare, what are you?”

“A stallion. I think... I am a stallion.”

Octavia’s concerned expression shifted to one of worry and confusion. Hearing the word stallion was a bit of a shock to her. “How long have you known?”

“Nearly a year,” Vinyl said as Octavia remained silent. Though at first they had been a dull buzz, her nagging questions, doubts, worries, and fears had built up to a roar.

”I need some time to myself.” She pushed Vinyl back and got up off the sofa.

“Tavi–”

“Vinyl, please, just – let me just gather my thoughts.” Octavia dashed into the spare bedroom and slammed the door.

Vinyl fell onto his back.

“Damn it.”

The spare bedroom of their apartment was repurposed as a music studio. A majority of the room was dedicated to Vinyl, as he used the space to store crates of records, cassettes, and stacks of audio production equipment. In spite of the chaos that was Vinyl’s section of the room, a small corner was kept clean, with a luxurious rug covering the tacky shag carpeting. A large instrument case rested against the wall, holding Octavia’s most prized possession: her cello.

Octavia slammed the door behind her and fell onto her haunches, leaned her back against the door, and began to cry. Too many conflicting thoughts rushed through her mind.

How did she not know? Was she not paying enough attention? How could she not notice something that important about her- him? Oh Goddess, and they were supposed to be getting married!

Instead of focusing on her thoughts, she forced herself onto her feet and cleared the tears out of her eyes, walking to her corner of the room. She opened her cello’s case, taking the instrument and bow from their resting place inside. She stood up on her hind legs and began to warm up, playing a few long, somber notes that soon grew into a melody. The music gradually drowned out her conflicting thoughts and feelings as she played.

Vinyl was lying on his back, listening to Octavia play her cello in the next room. Hearing her play kept his mind on her. He’d finally let out his secret, and things were going to be... different. At least she hadn’t said she was going to leave him, but he couldn’t stand not knowing what was going to happen. Whenever he managed to force himself to not worry about his relationship, the only thing he could think about was what to do next.

“Where do I even begin? Do I go to a doctor? See a therapist? Ask the pharmacist for over the counter medication? Go to the insane asylum?” He sighed, staring at the ceiling. “I guess I’ll talk to Derpy about it…”

Vinyl had promised to tell her how it went, after all. He got up from the sofa and walked over to the kitchen, picked up the phone hung on the kitchen wall, and punched in Derpy’s number. After a few rings, he was redirected to her answering machine.

“Hello, this is Derpy. If this call is work-related, please call my work telephone. Otherwise, please leave a message after the beep.”

BEEP

“Hey, Derpy. It’s Vinyl…” He hesitated, fiddling with the phone’s cord. “I told her. I’ll call you later.” He hung up and went back to the living room, grabbing the pack of cigarettes he’d left on the table. He opened the glass door to the outdoor patio, leaving the door open so he could continue listening to Octavia play. Walking to the edge, he stood and rested his forelegs on the surrounding brick wall. He pulled out a cigarette and lit up, hoping for a moment’s relief. While he was only a casual listener of classical music, he appreciated the sound that only his fiancée could produce. He’d counted on the soothing melodies and rush of nicotine to take the edge off, but if anything, they only made it harder to stay calm. Each note built toward an impending crescendo, each drag urging on his eventual doom.

After crushing out his first cigarette on the brick and flicking it down to the street below, he took another and lit up again. Telling Octavia was supposed to be a release, but the tension was worse than it had ever been. While he waited for her, all he could do was smoke to keep his nerves in check.

“Vinyl...” Turning around, he saw Octavia leaning against the doorframe. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was worried you wouldn’t like me.” Vinyl looked at the ground. “The mare you proposed to those few months ago was never a mare and…” He paused. “I lied.”

"I did say I like you because you are a mare like I have never met before.” She walked to Vinyl, cradling his face in her hooves and looking into his eyes. “But I like you for you who are, not because you are a mare.” She pressed her lips to Vinyl’s, giving him a gentle kiss.

“I love you, Vinyl Scratch, mare or not.” Octavia smiled.

“I love you too, Octavia.” He returned her smile.

“However...” She looked to the side. “It’s going to take me time to adjust.”

“I understand,” Vinyl wrapped himself around Octavia as she did the same, each holding on to the other as they allowed time to pass by.

Vinyl was sitting on the sofa in the living room, while Octavia was in the kitchen going through materials for dinner that evening.

“So, where do we go from here?” Octavia said, shuffling through a cabinet.

“I have no idea, honestly,” Vinyl sighed.

“Do you feel like heading out?” Octavia said, poking her head out of the kitchen.

“I think some fresh air would help, yeah.” Vinyl groaned, stretching as he got up from the sofa.

“One minute then,” Octavia walked over to the kitchen telephone and picked it up, punching in a number she waited for the receiver to pick up. “Hello Vidala, It’s Octavia.” She paused. “No, my mane is fine. It’s for my fiancé; he needs a bit of a touch-up and you are the first pony I would ask about this sort of thing.” She paused again. “You’re free right now?” Octavia looked over at Vinyl, smiling. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Octavia hung up and walked over to Vinyl.

“So… where are you taking me?”

“I am taking you to my mane stylist. We don’t exactly know what to do next, and I think this is a good start.”

“Fair enough.” Vinyl walked to the master bedroom. “Let me get dressed before we go.”

“All right.” Octavia waited for Vinyl in the living room, wondering what he meant by dressed. She didn’t have to wait long, as Vinyl soon returned from the bedroom with his favorite hoodie, this time with his mane tucked into the back of the jacket rather than hanging down by his face.

“You look good.” Octavia was impressed how easily Vinyl could change his look, even if he had always dressed a bit more masculine.

“Thanks.”

Octavia and Vinyl emerged from the apartment building into the streets of Manehattan. Without his headphones, Vinyl’s walk was not as pleasant as usual. For the first time in a long while, the general din of the streets invaded his ears: taxis rushing past, snippets of overheard conversation, and ponies trying to yell to each other over it all. With Octavia at his side, however, he didn’t mind all the noise as much. Side by side, they walked toward the salon.

“So, where is this place?” Vinyl said, getting out yet another cigarette.

“Just a few blocks.” Octavia wrinkled her nose and looked at Vinyl with worry in her brow. “Vinyl, how many of those have you had today?”

“Um… not enough?” He lit up, continuing his regular smoking routine.

“I thought you were going to quit this year. For me.” Octavia kept a short distance between herself and Vinyl, staying clear of the noxious cloud that followed each of his puffs.

“Look.” Vinyl sighed. “I’m trying, but that tour was a major setback next to…” He stopped mid-sentence.

“Coming out?” Octavia finished.

“Yeah, that.” He looked at Octavia. “I know this is sudden, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Octavia said, trying to sound reassuring. “I just wish I’d known earlier. Perhaps things may have been easier this summer.”

“Maybe; it’s hard to say. It might have made things easier for us, but I’d still be keeping a secret from the public: that I am together with a mare, and one who is also a classical musician. Not to mention I’d still be keeping the fact that I identify as a stallion secret from my record label.”

“Does Derpy know?”

“Yeah.” Vinyl paused for a few seconds, taking in his cigarette. “I’ve been spending as much time with her as with you lately, thanks to my tour schedule. While she is a business pony first, she’s been my friend since high school. She wants what’s best for me, but at the same time has said coming out publicly could ruin my career.” Vinyl took one last hit of his cigarette, then tossed it onto the pavement. “I’ll try and make that my last one of the day.”

Octavia smiled.

After a few minutes, they finally stood in front of the salon. On the outside, it was an old brick building with two large windows displaying the inside of the shop. Stepping inside, the two were met with a minimal theme; a majority of the objects within the shop were coated in white with black and transparent accents.

A pink earth mare with a two-tone pink mane immediately noticed the two walk in. “Good to see you, Octavia.”

“Hello, Vidala. Sorry for coming to you on such short notice.”

“No worries.” She looked over at Vinyl. “Is this your fiancée?”

“Yes, this is my–” Octavia stopped herself from saying ‘future wife.’ “This is Vinyl.”

Vinyl waved. “Yo.”

“Well, you aren’t as formal as your fiancée.” Vidala laughed. “I always figured she’d end up with someone more prim, proper, sophisticated… you know, no fun. Just like her.”

“Hey!” Octavia protested.

“This way please,” Vidala trilled, giving Octavia a wink and guiding the two to one of her stations. The salon itself felt strangely empty, as the three of them were the only ponies present. Vinyl sat in the hairdresser's chair as Vidala started looking over his mane.

“Well, I didn’t expect this.” The pink mare seemed fascinated by Vinyl’s hair, and ran one of her hooves through it. “Enchanted mane dye?”

“Um…” Vinyl was a bit surprised that she was petting his mane rather than just picking up a pair of scissors – much less in front of his fiancée.

“Yeah. Did it back when I was in high school.”

“You certainly have given it good care.” She pulled away and grabbed a cover to put over Vinyl. “So, what do you want me to do?”

Vinyl honestly wasn’t sure. As if sensing his hesitation, Octavia stepped in for him. “Something masculine. I want you to give her–” she quickly corrected herself “–him, I want you to give him a more masculine style.”

Vinyl was surprised to hear Octavia referring to him by his preferred pronouns already. “I think it’d be cool if we just shorten the length, but keep some of my spikes.”

Vidala smirked. “Spikes, is it? What are you, some kind of punk singer?”

“Not exactly, I produce electronic music and tend to DJ in large venues.”

“A unicorn with an electric blue mane that specializes in electronic music.” Vidala was still going through Vinyl’s hair. “You remind me a bit of a popular celebrity. DJ PON-3, perhaps?”

“No, I’m sure that–”

“Also, you have her cutie mark,” Vidala said, cutting Vinyl off and giving him a knowing nod.

“Oh… yeah.” Vinyl reflexively tried to cover up his cutie mark with his tail, though he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Vidala had already recognized him.

“However, I can tell you’re rather different from that mare on stage.” Vidala pulled the rest of Vinyl’s mane from underneath his jacket. “So, Octavia, you didn’t tell me he was like–”

“You?” Octavia interrupted.

“Me?” Vinyl asked.

“Yes.” Vidala grabbed a pair of scissors. “I usually keep this secret from my customers, but Octavia knew me back when I was a young colt.”

Grabbing a spray bottle, she pressed the handle a few times to wet down Vinyl’s mane, making it easier to manage. “She was one of the few to remain my friend after I came back to school as Vidala.” Putting the bottle away, she pulled out a comb and brushed his messy mane. “Plus, no other stylist knows how to take care of her mane properly.”

Vinyl couldn’t respond. There are other ponies like me, he thought. I’m not the only one.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Octavia shuffled to the entrance of the shop and sat on one of chairs, leafing through the magazines left out for waiting customers.

Vidala pulled out a pair of scissors and gave them a few midair test snips, now keeping a more minimal conversation with Vinyl. “Octavia didn’t tell me much about you, especially you being a big star and all.” Pausing, she cut off a lock of Vinyl’s mane. “But I can tell she definitely found somepony worth sticking with.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Just look at how she’s been looking at you ever since you two came in. Devoted, protective, almost motherly - but not in a weird way,” she added, glancing at Octavia. “She cares about you.”

Vinyl kept his eyes closed while Vidala did her work. This was the first time in a while he’d had his mane done by another stylist. The label had assigned him a “presentation consultant,” whom he met with before his shows, but she would do nothing more than maintain the same style to ‘preserve his artistic image.’

Vidala stopped and inspected her work, turning Vinyl around to face the mirror. Vinyl opened his eyes and blinked a few times when he saw himself.

“What do you think?” Vidala asked, passing Vinyl his glasses.

Putting them on, Vinyl turned his head in a few directions, taking a good look over his new style. It was shorter than before, but his right side still kept its longer length and maintained his signature spikes along the sides and bangs.

Vinyl stared at himself in the mirror, brushing a hoof through his short hair. After a couple of seconds, he could only manage a half-whispered "Wow."

“Wow, indeed.” Octavia walked up next to him and examined his new mane. “You really know how to work your craft, Vidala.”

“It’s nothing.” She shrugged, taking the cover off of Vinyl.

Vinyl smiled. “I like it. I like it a lot.” He rose from the chair. “How much do we owe you?”

“Fifty bits.”

“Fifty!?” Vinyl yelled. “For a manecut?”

“You should see how much Octavia spends here every month.” Vidala smirked.

Glaring at Octavia, Vinyl grabbed his wallet and pulled out a few bills. “I do appreciate it. Thank you.”

Vidala nodded while counting the money for her work. “You're welcome. Come back if you need anything in the future.” She turned and smiled at Octavia. “And I hope to see you later this month. Yes?”

Octavia nodded. “Of course.”

“See you soon, then. It was good meeting you. Vinyl.” Vidala walked over to the door and opened it for Vinyl and Octavia. They left the shop and headed back to their apartment.

The sun was beginning to set when Vinyl and Octavia returned to their apartment. Upon entering, Octavia went to the kitchen. “I’ll start dinner. Care to help, Vinyl?” she said, setting up the items she’d chosen earlier.

“Sure,” Vinyl said, walking over to the bedroom. “Just let me put my jacket away.” Midway through taking his hoodie off, he heard the doorbell ring, followed by a yell from Octavia.

“Vinyl! Are we expecting guests?” Vinyl tossed the hoodie on the floor and walked out of the bedroom.

“Not really,” he called back. "I’ll get it.”

Vinyl opened the door. Out in the hall was Derpy, with a young filly trying to hide in her tail. Derpy’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped as soon as she saw him.

“Vinyl…” Derpy said, staring at his mane.

“Yes?”

“What happened to your mane?!”

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine and Proper Noun for helping with this chapter.

Re-edited on 8/20/2015 by Madeline L-Equine.

For those wondering, Vidala is a background pony in the show. Proper Noun asked me about her and was confused when I said she was not an OC, here is a pic which may ring a bell for those not familiar with her.

Chapter 3 - Stress

The sun was setting for Ponyville, giving way to the slow rise of the moon. With the arrival of evening, many younger ponies were converging on the town hall for the single most important night for any teenager: prom.

One mare, however, was headed in the opposite direction of the others on their way to town hall. The grey pegasus was walking by herself, with only her saddlebags. She slunk to the residential area of Ponyville and approached one of the town houses, a well-styled but small home with a large front window. She knocked on the door.

Vinyl opened the door a crack, and tilted her head curiously to one side. The mare was the last pony she’d expected to see that night.

“Derpy? What are you doing here? Aren't you going to prom?”

“Aren't you?”

“Nah, I don’t care about any of that extracurricular stuff. Besides, I failed two semesters already, and at this point I’d rather just finish classes, get my diploma, and move on.” Vinyl looked at Derpy, concerned. Her friend sounded more down than usual as she mumbled her replies, avoiding eye contact. “Seriously, why are you here?”

“Can I just come in? Please?”

“Sure.” Vinyl fully opened the door, allowing Derpy to walk in. Vinyl gestured to the sofa, inviting Derpy to sit as she walked over to the kitchen.

“So, what exactly is going on?” Vinyl asked on her way to the fridge.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Derpy said, shuffling her hooves.

“We have plenty of time.” Vinyl grabbed an energy drink for herself out of the fridge and poured a glass of water. Then she walked back to the living room, passed the glass to Derpy, and took a gulp of her own drink.

“Well, it started about a month ago. I was spending extra time at the writing club with Noteworthy. We were wrapping up another article for the school paper, and I asked him if he was doing anything that evening.” Derpy held the glass in her hooves and took a big sip as Vinyl sat down next to her.

“He said no, and that his parents were away for a few days, so we had his entire house to ourselves. One thing led to another and” – Derpy gulped – “we had sex.”

“Okay, so you had a one night stand with a friend. And?”

“I found out a few days ago I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.” Vinyl tried to find the right thing to say, her mouth opening and closing several times without a word. How was Derpy supposed to deal with something like this? In the same situation, how would she handle it? What could she say to comfort her friend? “That… sucks?”

“Vinyl, I’m supposed to be going to college after I am done with school.” Derpy paused as she began to breathe heavily. “What am I going to do?”

“Get rid of it?” Vinyl shrugged.

“What?! No! You know I could never do that!” Derpy yelled, slamming her hoof on the coffee table.

“But I thought you being pregnant was bad news. We’re in high school, for Celestia’s sake. How are you supposed to be ready to be a mom?”

Derpy groaned, shaking her head slowly. “You’re right. I’m not ready for it. I’m angry, I’m scared, and I have no idea what I’m going to do, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to go and kill my foal!”

“Okay, okay.” Vinyl raised her hooves in surrender. “You will just be going to Ponyville Community College, right?”

“Yes, and I’m already enrolled for next semester.” Derpy sighed. “I honestly don’t know how I am going to work around my schedule.”

“Well, you helped me in the past.” Vinyl hesitated for a moment. "I'm not exactly an expert on business or being a mom, but I can help you out a little with anything you need, including helping you take care of a foal."

“Thank you.” Derpy threw her forelegs around Vinyl. “You’re a good friend.”

“Are you a stallion now, like mommy said?” Dinky emerged from behind Derpy’s tail, looking up at Vinyl.

“Yeah, I think so.” Vinyl smiled, tousling Dinky’s mane with a hoof.

“Vinyl!” Derpy yelled, cutting into their conversation.

“What?”

“The executives are going to kill me when they see your hair. You know how much they hate deviating from signature appearances.”

“We’ll get through it.”

“You say that all the time.” Derpy sighed. This wasn't the first time she’d had to get Vinyl out of a bad situation with music execs.

“And we always get through it.” Vinyl smirked. In the back of his mind, however, he knew this wouldn't be something Derpy could easily slip him by.

Derpy walked into the apartment behind Dinky, and Vinyl closed the door behind them as Octavia took notice of the two.

“Oh, I didn't realize we were expecting company,” Octavia said, looking up from the counter and waving politely. “Derpy, Dinky, it’s good to see you. Vinyl, can you entertain our guests while I get dinner ready?”

“Sure.” Satisfied, Octavia nodded and began cutting vegetables. Vinyl ushered Derpy into the living room, while Dinky ran over to the kitchen.

“I wanna help!” Dinky grabbed a stool and set it next to Octavia to be at her height. “Mommy’s work can be so boring,” she said. Octavia smiled at her and beeped her nose.

“I know the feeling. Sometimes when Vinyl’s immersed in his work, I just have to find things to do on my own. But still, I wouldn't trade him for the world. Now then, let’s get this finished.”

In the living room, Vinyl sat down on the sofa, opposite Derpy.

“So, I’m guessing you got my message.”

“Yeah. From your tone, it sounded like it didn't go well.” Derpy looked over to the kitchen, where Octavia and Dinky were working together on dinner. She was surprised to see Octavia acting so casually so soon – Vinyl’s secret had been no small affair. “But, it seems like things between you and Octavia are fine. What happened?”

“Just some tension. I mean, it was hard and she needed some space for a while, but I think she's over the shock of it. If it's bothering her, she's not letting it show." Vinyl slouched against the back of the sofa, trying to make himself relax. “It’s going to take time for both of us to adjust, but I think we’ll be fine.”

“Glad to hear it.” Derpy smiled.

“Octavia even took me to her stylist and helped me with my new hair,” Vinyl said, pointing to his newly cut mane. “But honestly, we don’t know what we’re supposed to do next.”

“I got that covered.” Derpy pulled out her saddle bag from the side and pulled out a folder setting it on the coffee table. “There is a clinic here in Manehattan that can help you move forward.”

Vinyl picked up the folder and opened it to find a few info documents and forms, looking through the contents. One pamphlet contained information on ponies like Vinyl, while another outlined medical procedures which might help. It was all new to him, but he committed himself to memorizing every word.

“The clinic I went to was confused at first by my request, but soon found what I was looking for and gave me what is in that folder. I also asked them if they had any free appointments tomorrow morning, and they said they had a few slots still open. I think you should go.”

“I’ll call them first thing tomorrow.” Vinyl placed the folder onto the coffee table. “Anything else?”

“We have a meeting with the higher-ups next week, and…”

“And?”

“They want a sample of your next project that day, too.”

“Already?!” Vinyl knew he would have to work on something sooner or later, but this took him by surprise.

“It doesn't have to be finished, but they want something that continues in the vein of your recent successes, with broad appeal to maximize profits from your burgeoning fanbase.” Derpy lowered her ears; she knew Vinyl didn't want to hear more of the executives’ orders.

“Typical,” Vinyl sighed. He wanted to make music for himself, not the company. It seemed like every year, the label kept pushing him to sell out, away from actually putting his talents to use.

“Sorry to be a bother,” Octavia said, stepping in from the kitchen. “Dinky and I are almost done with the salad. Can you help us set the table?”

“Sure.” The two got up and trotted into the kitchen to join Octavia and Dinky in helping set up dinner. Though Vinyl chipped in with a smile and hummed as they worked, in the back of his mind he had more on his plate than ever. Not only did he have to think about moving forward with his transition and how Octavia might react at each step, but work was tightening the screws as well.

“Thanks again for dinner, Octavia, but it’s getting late and we need to get going,” Derpy said, gathering her things. She quickly flicked a wingtip, signaling to Dinky that it was time to leave.

“It was nothing. I always like having guests over,” Octavia said, opening the door for the two. Before stepping out, Derpy turned to face Vinyl, who had returned to the living room and was looking over the folder she had left for him.

“Hey, Vinyl,” Derpy said, breaking Vinyl’s concentration. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, stay safe.” He smiled.

With that, Derpy and Dinky walked out of the apartment, and Octavia closed the door.

“You didn't ask her how she knew about me earlier,” Vinyl said.

“It’s in the past. Right now, we need to focus on the present.”

“Yeah...” Vinyl kept his eyes on the forms within the folder.

“What’s in there?” Octavia looked over his shoulder.

“Mainly info pamphlets, and forms I can submit to the clinic when I go there for an appointment.”

“Oh. What does ‘info’ include?” Octavia said, glancing over one of the packets Vinyl had opened.

“My next step, apparently. I just need approval from a physician at this clinic and I should be able to get on some medication that will help me out with my transition.”

“Transition?”

“Yeah. You know, from mare to stallion.”

“Okay.” Octavia honestly didn't know what to say to that word - ‘transition.’ She had a general idea what Vinyl was going to do, but thinking further ahead, she knew her partner was going to change. “I am going to do some reading and head to bed. Do you want to join me?”

“In an hour, maybe. Derpy said I need to have a sample track ready by the end of the week. I’ll be there when I get some ideas out of my head.”

“All right. You know where I’ll be if you need anything,” Octavia said, and headed to the bedroom.

Vinyl got up from the sofa and walked into the studio, seating himself at his main setup. He switched on his keyboard, poking idly at the synthetic sound keys while glancing over the stacks of audio equipment.

Producing music had once been a fun activity for Vinyl. He had made music for himself first and foremost, putting love into the sound he produced. After a while, however, he realized he’d begun to make music for his label instead. The executives only wanted to sell more records, and he no longer did more than follow their instructions like a good, money-making puppet.

Mashing a few keys down and groaning, Vinyl flipped a switch along the top of the keyboard to turn off the synth sound. Once, he’d loved it, but that night it was only giving him a headache. Vinyl struck another key and a low piano note rang out. He slowly worked his way up the keyboard. “Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do…”

In Ponyville, it was a sunny afternoon, and a young filly was sitting in front of a piano with her mother.

“Okay, let’s begin our first lesson,” the mare said tenderly. Her coat was the same off-white as the filly sitting next to her, but she had a long straight mane that was red like wine to matched her bright red eyes. A piano key cutie mark adorned her flank.

“Where do I start?” Vinyl asked, hitting a key with one of her hooves. The grand piano had so many keys - how was she supposed to know which ones to play?

“You need to use your magic first, hun. Keep your magic focused on four keys right now.”

“Any of them?”

“Any of them,” she assured.

Following the simple instructions, Vinyl’s horn glowed a small blue aura as she began to focus her magic on the piano. After a few moments, she was able to play four adjacent notes at once.

“Now try adding four more. Take your time, and add sets of four until you can control all of the keys at once. Just try to control all of the keys at the moment, don’t worry about actually playing anything yet.”

“Okay, mom,” Vinyl said. Slowly, she brought all the keys under her control, managing to manipulate every one without causing a chaotic mess. Her mother smiled.

“Now, let’s play a basic song.”

Vinyl pressed one last key as his melody came to an end, and stopped the recorder. It was not an electronic sound, but it was the start of something, and it was his own.

“I’ll get back to this tomorrow,” Vinyl told himself, shutting down his gear and walking out of the studio to the bedroom. Octavia was curled up in bed, with her nose in a book as usual. She looked up at Vinyl as he entered.

“Done for the night?”

“Yeah,” Vinyl said, taking off his glasses and lying in bed next to Octavia.

“You've only worked for an hour. Did you get anything done?” Octavia set her book off to the side and turned off her bedside lamp.

“I got a little done. It’s enough for now.” Vinyl rolled onto his side, with his back facing Octavia in the darkness.

“Can I ask you something?” Octavia asked softly, wrapping herself around Vinyl from behind.

“Sure.”

“How far are you planning to go with this... transition?” Octavia lowered her hooves around Vinyl.

“I don’t plan on anything extreme, I guess. I just want to get on that medication.” He was sure his fiancée had to feel at least a little conflicted about his changes down the line.

“So…”

“Surgery has not come to mind.”

“Okay.” Octavia raised her legs and wrapped herself around Vinyl. She didn't know how to feel. Vinyl identified as a stallion, but still planned on keeping his original anatomy. She did her best understand him, but this only confused her more.

“Are you worried I’ll become something else?” Vinyl asked. He could hear the quaver in Octavia's voice that she only got when she was worrying.

“Just please be my Vinyl,” she whispered back.

“I always will be.”

The two held onto each other for the rest of the night, knowing this would be a long journey not just for Vinyl, but for the both of them and everyone around them.

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine and Proper Noun for helping with this chapter.

Chapter 4 - One Step Forward, Two Back

The campus and halls of Ponyville High School were filled with a diverse body of students, with the occasional instructor around to be sure ponies stayed out of trouble. It was lunch hour, and Vinyl was at her locker grabbing books for her next class period. The hallway was deserted, so she hummed to herself as she fished through dog-eared books on intermediate magic theory, algebra, and musical composition. She didn't notice the light beige earth pony approaching until the mare was right beside her.

“Vinyl, we need to talk,” Bon Bon said. Vinyl jerked in surprise, then pulled her headphones off and let them slide down her neck.

“Sure, Bon Bon. Something up?”

Bon Bon opened her mouth, but cut herself off immediately. She tried again, but kept stumbling over her words as she tried to find the right way to tell Vinyl…

“Sweetie, I don’t think this is working. I’m breaking up with you.”

Vinyl blinked a few times in stunned silence. Then her nervous smile fell, and her whole body seemed to wilt.

“I don’t understand. I thought you liked me?” she said, her ears drooping.

“Vinyl…” Bon Bon said, unable to meet her eyes. “You’re a sweet mare, but compared to others I’ve gone out with, you just seem… different.”

“What? How?” How could Bon Bon see her as different?

“You don’t like going to the places I do. I wanted to take you to the spa and the local boutique, and you just weren’t interested.”

“But I did take you out on dates. We went all sorts of places!”

“I don’t think a fast food restaurant is somewhere I would take someone on a date, Vinyl,” Bon Bon sighed. “There was also that dress I bought you—which you never wore.”

“I just don’t wear dresses often, Bon Bon. It’s not my thing.” Vinyl caught herself. “B-but I could give it a try. We could do it today, right after school.” She forced herself to smile, knowing in the pit of her stomach that it was useless, but still hoping all the same.

Bon Bon looked back up at Vinyl, knowing she left a mare heartbroken. “Look, honeydrop, I’m sorry. I’m calling it off.”

There was a short pause, and Vinyl knew this really was the end for the two mares.

“I have to go.” And with that, Bon Bon walked down the hall and out of Vinyl’s life.

Vinyl stood there in silence, still not sure what had just happened. Where had she gone wrong? More importantly, why was she seen as different?

Vinyl's eyes fluttered open. With a groan, he rolled onto his side and tried to bury himself in the covers, but it was no use. Those nagging memories weren't letting him go back to sleep, and he finally gave up with a sigh, looking over at his bedside clock. 7:00 AM. Still too early, but with further sleep out of the question, he got out of bed to try to at least get the thoughts out of his mind.

Walking into the bathroom, he stepped into the shower and turned on the water. He let the stream of hot water soak into his coat and mane, and steam quickly filled up the bathroom.

A familiar figure walked in, her outline and colors blurred by the foggy glass. Octavia opened the door to the shower stall.

“Mind if I join?” she said, looking at Vinyl with a smile. Her gaze traveled over his drenched mane and coat, glistening with water from the shower.

“Not at all,” he replied, smiling back and moving over to give Octavia space. The shower had more than enough room for them both. Octavia stepped in with a purr, sensually licking the base of Vinyl's neck—and immediately gagging. "I... did not realize you had already soaped there," she explained when Vinyl turned around.

"Aww, poor baby," Vinyl crooned. "Here, my lips are clean..."

While the bad memories were still nagging at the back of his mind, he knew Octavia still loved him for who he was, and that was all he needed. Yesterday, things had gone better than expected, and he hoped today would be just as good.

With morning hygiene out of the way, Octavia stood by the stove, letting pans heat on the stove in preparation for breakfast. Vinyl sat at the kitchen table, opening the folder he’d received from Derpy last night.

“Are you going to call that clinic today?” Octavia asked, walking over to the fridge.

“I think so. It’s the only way we can move forward with my transition, right?”

Octavia nodded as she grabbed a carton of eggs from the fridge and walked back over to the stove. “Let me make you breakfast before you go anywhere, at least. I can’t have you living off of bagels every morning.” She opened the eggs and cracked a few into one of the pans to fry.

“Thanks.” Vinyl pulled a number out of his folder. “I’m going to make that call real quick.”

“All right.”

Vinyl got up from the table, trotted over to the phone, and dialed. After a few rings, someone picked up on the other end.

“Downtown Manehattan Clinic. How may I help you?”

“Hello, I want to make an appointment.”

"Okay, sir, let me just check our openings..." Vinyl tapped his hoof as he heard papers rustling on the other end. "I've got 10 AM open today with Doctor Aid, if you can hurry. Otherwise it'll have to be later in the week."

“10AM sounds great.”

“What can I put this appointment down for?”

“Um…” Vinyl knew exactly what he wanted, but at the same time he couldn’t form the words, so he tried the first thing that came to mind. “Consultation?”

“Can I get a name, please?”

“Vinyl.”

“Okay, we’ll see you soon, Vinyl. Thank you for calling.”

Hanging up the phone, Vinyl let out a sigh of relief and sat back down at the table. Octavia placed a plate of eggs and veggies in front of him before sitting down with a plate of her own.

“Got an appointment?” she asked as she dug into her eggs, eating quickly so they wouldn’t get any colder.

“Yeah. It’s at ten, so I’ll have to leave soon.” Vinyl levitated his fork over to cut off a piece of egg, and took a bite.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Octavia said, giving him a worried glance over the morning newspaper she had idly read over while waiting for him to join her at the table.

“I think I will be fine. I’ll just visit the clinic, sign some forms, and they get me on what I need, right? Easy squeezy,” Vinyl said, putting on his jacket and making sure he had what he needed.

“Let’s hope so.” Octavia masked her discomfort with a smile. While she knew she should be happy for him, she couldn’t help but feel things were starting to move too quickly for her.

Vinyl levitated his plate and shoveled its remaining contents into his mouth. Before heading out for his appointment, he walked back to the kitchen and gave Octavia a kiss. She playfully made a face at the lingering taste of his food, a gesture that reminded them both of earlier, easier times, and he chuckled.

“I’ll be back soon, hon.”

“Good luck.”

Vinyl left the apartment building and walked down the streets of Manehattan, listening to another mixtape on his cassette player to cut out the noise of the city.

Since yesterday afternoon, he had tried his hardest to hold off for Octavia’s sake, but his nerves wouldn’t take any more. He finally had to cave in, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes to withdraw one. He felt a bit guilty lighting up, since he promised her he would quit, but no matter how much he wanted to stop, his cravings demanded another.

After a few blocks, Vinyl reached the clinic. On the outside, it was a pretty average brick building with a large glass window and a wooden door. A sign over the entrance read “DOWNTOWN MANEHATTAN CLINIC” in large block letters.

Taking his headphones off, he crushed out his cigarette on the sidewalk, then turned the knob on the door. It had a bit of resistance to it, clearly showing the age of the clinic, it opened up to a small waiting room. Like other doctor’s offices he had been to in the past, it was very plain and quiet, a welcome change to the chaos outside that was Manehattan.

Vinyl walked up to the check-in window at the back of the waiting room, passing several ponies waiting for their appointments. Vinyl tapped the glass window with his hoof, and it immediately slid open.

“Name and appointment,” the mare behind it said, her voice unpleasantly nasal.

“Vinyl Scratch for Doctor Aid at 10AM,” Vinyl said as the receptionist looked over her notes.

“Did you come in for anything specific?”

“Just this.” He passed the forms he’d received from Derpy and filled out last night across the counter. The receptionist took them and looked over them, occasionally taking quick glances at him as she put them into a folder. Vinyl took a step back, uncertain of how he was supposed to feel. That look she kept giving him almost seemed critical.

“The Doctor will be out for you shortly, then,” she finally said, closing the window in his face.

“Thanks?” Vinyl turned around and took the nearest seat that was not occupied.

“Vinyl Scratch,” a nasal voice called. Vinyl had been waiting for an hour while other ponies had come, been called, and gone, and he eagerly got up to approach the pale blue earth pony nurse.

“This way, please,” she said and he followed her to a scale.

“We will need to do a quick check-up. Please stand here.” She pointed to the scale and he stepped onto it, watching while the nurse adjusted the counterweights.

The nurse hmmed to herself, scribbling on her notepad.

"Sit there, please." Vinyl complied and she wrapped a band around his foreleg, pumping it tighter and tighter until he winced. "Oh, don't be such a baby," she chided, then smiled as though it were a friendly little joke. She released the pressure and he rubbed his leg.

“Follow me, please.” The nurse walked Vinyl over to the doctor’s office and ushered him into a seat.

Is this a caregiver’s office or an assembly line? he thought as he sat down.

“The doctor will be with you shortly.” She left Vinyl alone in the office, and he looked around the room while he waited. It was just as plain as the waiting room, only in a tighter space with no windows. Fifteen agonizingly dull minutes ticked by before the doctor walked in.

“Vinyl Scratch?” he said, his eyes fixed on his clipboard.

“Yes?” Vinyl replied, expecting a bit more of an introduction.

“Just making sure.” He began writing a few things down on a form and sat down at his desk. “Do you have approval from a psychologist?”

“Excuse me?” Vinyl was caught off-guard—the doctor didn’t even introduce himself before starting with the questions!

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said, finally looking up from his clipboard as though a case had been solved. “Well then, in that case, I will have to submit this paperwork and will get back to you within three to six months. It seems you are trying to present as male now, which will help your case, but honestly I’ve only dealt with patients going from stallion to mare and—”

“Excuse me!” Vinyl cut him off. “What do you mean, three to six months?”

“Three to six months until I can give you a prescription,” the doctor said, his tone slightly bitter.

“But I’ve known about this for at least a year!” Vinyl stood from his chair, raising his voice.

“If that’s true, why didn’t you come here earlier?” Vinyl shrunk back into his seat, feeling the weight of nearly half a year with nothing to show for it bearing down on him. The doctor sighed and shook his head.

"Look, it's not like it's my call. Rules are rules, and we have to rule out the possibility that this is just a phase, or you're in a manic state and don't really know what you're asking for, or any number of things." He finished writing and got up. “I’ll send you a call for your next appointment.” The doctor opened the exit door. “Until then, have a nice day, Miss Scratch.”

The reference hit him like a slap in the face. It was a simple comment, but to Vinyl it echoed throughout the room and everyone overheard it. Miss Scratch. He didn’t acknowledge the doctor as he got up, and remained silent on the way out of the clinic.

Vinyl took a longer route back to his apartment, the headphones in his ears playing a different tape while he smoked another cigarette to get his mind off the clinic.

He couldn’t believe it. Things had been going so well yesterday with Octavia, Derpy, Dinky, and even complete strangers regarding his identity. Today, however, a single pony made all of that feel meaningless. His visit to the clinic had gotten him nowhere. How much longer could he wait? He had hoped to make the next step today, but it felt like he’d been thrown two steps back instead.

Arriving at the apartment, Vinyl walked inside to find Octavia in the living room, continuing her book from last night. She marked her page and looked up, focusing on him.

“How did it go?”

“I don’t know...” Vinyl groaned.

“What?” A strained edge to his tone told Octavia that things must have gone poorly.

“I don’t know how much longer I can wait!” Vinyl fell onto Octavia and wrapped his hooves around her, pouring slow, painful sobs into her shoulder. She was surprised by his response, but allowed him to let out what he needed to, and gently brushed the back of Vinyl’s mane with her hoof to comfort him.

“We’ll get through this, Vinyl, and I will stick with you no matter what,” she said, holding him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Vinyl whimpered. He tried to restrain his tears, but that just seemed to encourage them.

“Don’t be. It’s okay for stallions to cry.” Octavia did her best to comfort him, but in the back of her mind, she wondered, Is this going to become a regular occurrence? It was only yesterday, she realized, that she’d first seen him cry, and this time was even worse. “Vinyl, what happened?”

“The doctor… h-he said I’d have to wait three, maybe six months for anything!” Despite his best efforts to hold back his sobs, Vinyl’s collapsed into a low wail. “Then! Then he called me Miss Scratch! Like everything I’m going through didn’t matter at all! That entire clinic didn’t like me.”

Octavia blinked in surprise. Patients like Vinyl might have been a rare occurrence, but even she knew he wouldn’t want to be referred to as Miss. “Maybe the doctor just didn’t know?”

“He knew, Octavia,” Vinyl groaned. “He had all the paperwork. He knew exactly.”

“Sorry… I just really don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t,” he said, keeping himself wrapped tightly around her. “Just hold me.”

An hour later, the two were still lying on the sofa, holding each other silently. Vinyl sat up with a yawn, rousing Octavia, who had nearly fallen asleep.

“Feeling better?” Octavia asked.

“Yeah.” Vinyl sighed, looking down at the ground. “Thank you, Tavi.”

“What for?” Octavia didn’t know what to be thanked for. She had just wanted to help support her partner.

“For putting up with me.”

“You have to put up with me too,” she said, giving Vinyl a gentle kiss. He smiled in return. The two remained next to each other while Octavia laid her head against him.

“We still have a good chunk of the afternoon. Do you want to head out?” Vinyl said.

Octavia blinked. “I thought you would want to stay home.”

“Nah, I think heading out and having a good time with you would take the stress off easier.”

Octavia smiled. “Well, in that case, we can go wherever you want.”

“How about a walk around the park?” Vinyl suggested, hoping she wouldn’t mind.

“Sounds perfect.” She got up from the sofa with him, and they headed out of the apartment together.

Vinyl and Octavia stayed close to each other as they walked to the park. While Vinyl focused only on what was ahead of him, Octavia picked up a familiar odor in his coat. You’ve been smoking again, she almost said. Given what he had been through already, however, she decided to not bother him about it today.

They arrived at the park in the middle of the afternoon. Compared to the rest of Manehattan, this place was peaceful, filled with the small talk of park attendees and birds chirping rather than the chaotic din of ponies yelling and loud carriages speeding past. The park itself contained luscious green grass and a variety of large trees and bushes. Stone-brick paths led to various sights and attractions. In the center of the park was a lake that brought everything together.

The two walked slowly, taking in the sights and sounds. As they crossed a patch of cool grass, Vinyl raised a hoof for a stop.

“Can we take a break from all this walking? It took us enough time just to get here.”

“Of course, why don’t we sit over there for a few minutes.” Octavia said, pointing her hoof to a bench. As they headed towards it, she saw Vinyl was breathing heavily, while she was only a little winded herself.

They both sat down on the bench, and Vinyl pulled out his pack of cigarettes to light up again. Octavia stayed close, and he did his best to keep the smoke out of her face.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep myself off of these for long,” he said, stretching himself out.

“It’s fine; I don’t like you smoking, but I know you are under a lot of stress.” Octavia leaned her head on his shoulder, but kept her eyes on the trees across the path. It wasn’t fine, not really, but she could only deal with so many things at once.

“I think I’m gonna do something a bit different for this record. The past stuff is all the same. Too aggressive.” Vinyl sucked in a deep draft of nicotine smoke, and let it back out in a thick, steady stream. “Being here with you... it’s soothing. I want to make something that keeps me relaxed and feeling at peace.”

“Do you think it’s best to upset your bosses? They already don’t know about this transition of yours.” Octavia supported Vinyl making the music he wanted, but at the same time, his idea was concerning. “Derpy told you exactly what to produce. I don’t think it’s a good idea to upset her, or your bosses.”

“She did, but for a while, I want to make music for myself rather than my label.”

“Maybe do something on the side? I would like to perform more complex pieces on cello by myself, but I can’t go against my superiors when performing.” Octavia sighed. “Both of us, as musicians, need to show our true feelings in our music, but in our careers, we unfortunately have to cater to our bosses rather than ourselves.”

“I know.” Vinyl brushed the back of Octavia’s mane. In the back of his mind, he knew going against his manager and record execs was a bad idea, but at the same time, he knew he’d lost his passion for club music years ago. Sometimes, it felt like the paychecks were the only thing keeping him producing. More important than the paychecks, though, was the thought of Octavia without a roof over her head.

Then again, what good is comfort if we're not happy? What good are careers if we're not following our dreams? One day, we'll be making music for ourselves, not following anyone else's orders.

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine and Proper Noun for helping with this chapter.

Chapter 5 - End of the Line

Derpy's mind whirled as she walked toward Vinyl's home. Her management class had really worn her out and she needed to get ready for work. Thankfully, the walk was short, but she found the mailbox crammed full of mail from over the weekend, again. No matter how many times she'd reminded her, Derpy’s roommate, Vinyl Scratch, was not too keen on keeping an eye on the mail.

Walking inside with mail held in her wing, Derpy found her daughter at the living room table drawing in her crayon book.

“Hi mommy!” Dinky said around the crayon in her mouth.

“Hey, sweetie.” Derpy smiled, going through the mail she grabbed earlier.

Shuffling through the usual bills and junk mail, she noticed an actual letter addressed to Vinyl. Seeing the return address she put the other mail to the side, opening the envelope and taking a quick glance at the letter, her eyes widening at what was before her.

“Dinky, where’s Vinyl?”

“She’s upstairs making the musics!”

Rushing upstairs to the second floor, Derpy ran to the back hall and knocked on Vinyl’s bedroom door.

“Vinyl! You need to see this!” Derpy yelled.

Getting no response, she immediately opened the door to see Vinyl hunched over her workstation with her headphones on, producing music. A lit cigarette dangled from her mouth, a nearby window opened to allow the smoke to escape.

As she heard the door open, Vinyl groaned.

“Working here. What?” Vinyl said, looking over her shoulder. “Oh, sorry Derpy. I was just in the middle of laying a track down. What’s up?”

“One of the record labels that we sent our sample cassette to replied back. They want more!”

Vinyl’s ears perked up and she immediately snatched the letter from Derpy’s hoof, quickly reading it over. She skipped over the fancy talk and the main details, her eye drawn to the name of the record label.

“Manehattan Records?”

“That’s them! One of the top record labels in Equestria.”

“And they wanted more songs in the style of my track…” Vinyl paused, unsure how to feel about their choice. “Wub Bomb.” She sighed—one of her many experimental tracks. “Honestly, I pounded that one out late one night just for fun; not sure what they see in it that I don’t.”

“Who cares which song they were impressed by? It’s still your work they're excited about. This is our foot in the door!”

“I care. As great as this is, I want to make my music my way. I want to be an artist, not just someone who takes orders, you know?”

Derpy rolled her eyes. “Vinyl, if you want to work in the music industry, you're going to have bosses. You're going to have to follow someone else’s rules.”

“But that’s why I have you.” Vinyl snickered. “I think I could handle orders from you. But really, I think we should see who else makes us an offer.”

“But there’s no harm in saying yes just for now. Let them know we're still keeping our options open, but if the offer’s right…” Derpy shrugged. “Manehattan Records are the biggest game in town. In Equestria. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and we shouldn't pass it up.”

Vinyl sighed. This was a step in the right direction, but going with the first label that accepted them rather than waiting to see if others responded seemed… reckless. Perhaps Derpy was just overeager. Then again, she always knew best.

“Yeah, I guess you're right. No harm in saying yes for now, right?”

Bleary-eyed, Vinyl stared at the calendar on the wall of the small apartment studio. It couldn't be right. Vinyl groaned and let his head hit the desk with a thud. A whole week had gone by and all he had to show for it was a few bars and a mountain of balled-up sheet music. Before, he could churn out two whole albums in that time with ease. This time he wanted to do something different, but inspiration just wasn't coming. With nothing coming to mind, he lit a cigarette inside the studio.

As small puffs of smoke spread around the room, he got up from his chair and went over to a shelf containing his recent recordings, then picked up a cassette.

Sitting back down at his workstation, he popped the tape into a cassette player and pressed play. The cassette started out with white noise, but soon started playing the piano track he'd recorded earlier that week.

Vinyl leaned back in his chair, smoking his cigarette while listening to the track. It reminded him of when it was fun composing music for himself and playing at his favorite venues. The record label he worked for did help him to get where he was today, but listening to his old work made him not care much for his current success.

While the music soothed Vinyl for a short while, the door to the studio burst open with such force that Vinyl fell out of his chair. A bit flustered, he got up and saw Octavia at the doorway.

“Vinyl! Are you smoking in our apartment!?” she yelled, enraged Vinyl would expose the apartment to the smell of tobacco.

“M-maybe….” Vinyl quickly took the cigarette out of his mouth and put it out in an ashtray. “Sorry hon, I’ve just been stressed these past few days getting something done.”

“Is this what you are going to submit to your label?” Octavia asked, her tone softening. She pointed to the speaker.

The music still playing in the studio had attracted Octavia in the first place, though the smell had irked her. Compared to Vinyl’s other... songs, this was surprisingly quite tolerable, even verging on pleasant.

“Oh, um… Yeah! Just a new style I'm trying out.” Vinyl forced a smile. He didn't like lying to Octavia, but this newfound good mood was keeping her from chewing him out.

Besides, who'd want to be stuck being married to a fraud who couldn't write a single new song?

“It’s... piano? You never told me you were a pianist, Vinyl.” Octavia smiled.

“Yeah, I learned a little bit. Back when I was younger.”

“It’s lovely, but…” Octavia frowned. “I thought you said your label was forcing you to stick with the same style. Will they really take this?”

"O-of course they will, Octavia," Vinyl crowed, avoiding Octavia’s eyes. "Don't forget—you are marrying a talented musician!”

"Of course. How could I ever forget." Octavia rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help smiling a little.

Yet, at the back of her mind, the nagging little doubt refused to go away. There’s something you're not telling me, Vinyl. Why?

She tried to silence it internally, but eventually ended up asking, “So, everything’s fine, then?”

“That’s what I just said,” Vinyl said flatly, looking back at his desk.

Whatever it was, trying to drag it out of Vinyl would only lead to him getting mad at her for not believing him. Octavia turned to leave for the bedroom.

“Don't stay up too late, hon,” she called from the doorway.

“I'm actually wrapping up. I’ll be in bed soon.”

“All right, hon.”

After Octavia walked out, Vinyl stayed in the studio until the tape was over. He popped it out of the cassette player, placed it in an individual case, and then went to join his fiancée in bed.

Showered and ready for the day, Vinyl rested his elbows on the kitchen table as he drank his morning coffee. A few droplets still clung to his mane, which reeked of chemical spray. Octavia spread a pad of butter across a rapidly warming frying pan.

“So, today’s the day?” Octavia asked. Cracking two eggs, she poured their contents into the frying pan. They sizzled pleasantly.

“Yeah, Derpy and I have to go meet with executives and demo my new work for the next album. Hopefully it won't take long.”

“Mmm, can you pop the bread into the toaster, Vinyl?” Octavia looked like she was nearly done.

“Sure.” Vinyl went over to the toaster and popped the bread down.

“Are you nervous?”

Nervous would be better, Vinyl thought. I'm already hoping that they won't notice or won't care about all the changes I'm going through, but disobeying them on top of that? What will they say? What will Derpy say?

“Always am. When your future depends on what other ponies think of your work, you can't afford not to be, you know? I'm sure it’s the same when you play.”

“Yeah.” Octavia nodded, the toast popped from the toaster, catching them in midair, she spread butter across both slices, then placed an egg atop each.

After serving Vinyl at the table, she sat down across from him as both of them partook in the simple but enjoyable breakfast.

“Will you be out long?” Octavia asked.

“Hopefully only until the early afternoon. Vinyl quickly ate his breakfast and got up, putting on his jacket. “I do need to go though, I’ll see—”

“Vinyl?”

“Yeah?” He stopped, focusing his attention to Octavia.

“Whatever happens,” she paused, fidgeting her hooves. “I love you, and will always stick with you.” She smiled.

“I love you too, Tavi.” He smiled back. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Outside Manehattan, it was the same as other days. Most ponies kept to themselves, walking by while traffic sped past. Once he left the apartment building, Vinyl walked to the curb and raised his hoof to the traffic.

“Taxi!”

Immediately, a taxi buggy pulled to the side near Vinyl. As he climbed into the coach, the driver of the buggy turned his head.

“Where to, buddy?”

“I need to pick up a friend at the downtown apartments, then head to the Manehattan Records building.” Vinyl pulled out his pack of cigarettes. “Is it all right if I smoke in here?”

“Depends. You got a spare smoke?”

Deftly levitating two cigarettes from his pack, Vinyl lit them and passed one to the driver. “I can spare another one at Manehatten Records. My fiancée wants me off these things anyway.”

“Heh, thanks bud. Most passengers tend to ignore me, but you seem like an all right stallion.” The driver put the cigarette in his mouth. “Next stop, Downtown Manehattan apartments.” The driver then began running, taking the buggy at a decent speed around town.

Throughout the ride, Vinyl kept to himself. He stared at the ponies passing by, thinking back to what Octavia said to him earlier that morning, and how she loved him no matter what. It made him feel a bit better, in spite of not knowing how today was going to go.

“We’re here,” the taxi driver said, stopping in front of a large apartment building.

Vinyl looked at the front of the building and saw Derpy waiting outside, wearing a mare’s suit by Pommel with an open white collar and a miniskirt that failed to cover her blonde tail. Her mane was swept back into a bun, but her bangs still hung down on over her eyes. A light dusting of foundation and some mascara completed her professional businessmare look.

He waved at Derpy, who took immediate notice, walking into the carriage and sitting next to him.

“Next stop, Manehattan records,” the driver said, speeding off again.

“So, ready for the big day today?” Derpy asked.

“For the most part.” Vinyl shrugged.

“Vinyl, please tell me you are one-hundred-percent ready today. I already came up with an explanation for your hair. If there is anything else I need to know, then please let me know now.”

Vinyl grumbled. “Yes, mom.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you, you know!” Derpy scoffed. “I know it feels like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders because you’re the artist, but my job’s not easy either. Just throw me a bone here; if there’s something coming, I need to know what.”

“I don't have a tape as requested.” Vinyl paused. “I just can’t keep making the kind of music that the label wants.”

Derpy groaned, holding her head in her hooves. “Vinyl, I can’t do my job if you can’t do yours.”

“It’s not like I’m coming to them empty-hooved. I have a plan.”

“You have a plan? I don’t think I can sell them on just a plan.”

Derpy was even more confused now. Before, he was able to pull off two albums within a few years, and now he was not able to make a single track? Something was definitely up.

Vinyl stared at the pavement as it crunched under the carriage’s wheels. “Just be sure to handle the image problems. I’ll handle the music. If you need an excuse, just say I am working on something experimental.”

“But we were told—”

“I know!” Vinyl yelled, making not only Derpy jump, but also the driver, who raised a concerned eyebrow at him.

Vinyl sighed. He had to calm down the situation. “Look, let’s just get through this meeting and we’ll see what we can do.”

“All right.” Derpy sighed. Today was not going to be easy.

Vinyl and Derpy spent the rest of the ride in silence, Vinyl humming to himself while Derpy kept her eyes closed, forcing herself to take deep, even breaths. It wasn’t their first argument and it most likely wouldn’t be the only one today, but she had to remain cool. Both of their livelihoods were riding on today.

After a few minutes, the driver stopped at a large building.

“Manehattan Records,” the driver said with none of his prior enthusiasm.

Derpy stepped off first while Vinyl pulled out his wallet and gave the driver a few bits and an extra cigarette.

“Um, sorry for earlier. We just… it happens sometimes.” Vinyl truly did feel bad for having the driver see them argue.

“Eh, I’ve seen and heard a lot worse. Best of luck to you two. And thanks for the smoke.”

“No prob.”

Vinyl shortly caught up with Derpy, who was waiting at the far end of the massive lobby by the main elevator. One of the doors opened. They stepped in and began to go up.

“Well, at least we are on time,” she said, checking her watch.

“Hopefully this meeting won’t take as long as the last one. I can’t sit around for more than an hour.” Vinyl fidgeted with his cigarette pack, flipping the lid open and closed.

“Be patient. Since we have nothing to show, we should be in and out pretty quick. Just hopefully not out on our asses."

“Right…”

The elevator doors opened up to a big open room. On display were various gold records, memorabilia, and large photos. At the end of the room was a large desk with a receptionist typing away on her typewriter in front of two large doors.

“DJ-PON3 and Derpy Hooves?” The receptionist lifted her head, adjusting her glasses.

“That’s us. We are here to see Mr. Price to present DJ-PON3’s demo,” Derpy said, talking for Vinyl.

“Of course. Unfortunately, Mr. Price is not in today, but Mr. Rich has expressed an interest in listening. He is waiting for you in the executive’s room.” As soon as she finished speaking, the receptionist returned to her typing.

“Wait? Mr Rich?! The CEO?!” Derpy gasped.

Of all the days to stick his nose in their business, why did he have to pick today? Wasn't there a golf tournament or a charity auction he should be at?

“Derpy, calm down.” Vinyl put his hoof on Derpy’s shoulder. “We stick with the same plan.”

“Um… right. It'll all be fine...” She sighed and straightened herself out. “Let’s go.”

Derpy led the way in front of Vinyl. Opening the large doors behind the receptionist revealed another large, dark room. More hallway than room, its centerpiece was a broad hardwood table that seemed to stretch out to the horizon, each side lined with imperial high-backed chairs. Mounted on the wall behind each glittered a gold casting of the label’s most popular albums. At the far end of the room, a lone stallion in a deep-crimson suit sat and perused a thick black binder.

“Welcome, Ms. Hooves. You’re looking lovely, as always,” Mr. Rich said with practiced warmth and a sharp smile. “PON-3.” He nodded. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you.” Derpy sat down next to Vinyl.

Mr. Rich licked his hoof and turned a page in his binder.

Derpy took it upon herself to break the silence. “Um, we didn't expect to have a meeting with you today. Not that it’s a bad surprise,” she added hastily. “We just thought Mr. Price was going to be here. Because, you know, we made the appointment with him, and…”

Derpy trailed off and Mr. Rich waved his hoof dismissively. “Well, things change quickly at the top, Ms. Hooves. Mr. Price was called away unexpectedly, so I was happy to fill in. You know I’m interested in your success.”

Mr. Rich smiled, but his enthusiasm faded as he looked at Vinyl. “I see your client has gone so far as to change her appearance. I thought you said you were going to keep this under control. Keep them from doing anything that would alarm the public regarding her… issues?”

Derpy’s stomach dropped. An uncomfortable, acidic emptiness filled her body in its place. Although she knew she couldn't bear to look, she found her head turning toward Vinyl of its own accord. Oh please oh please oh shit oh please… She pleaded internally that, by some miracle, Vinyl wasn't paying attention or somehow missed what Mr. Rich had implied.

His dropped jaw and ragged breathing proved that he hadn’t.

“You what?”

Derpy cringed, shooting Vinyl her best apologetic look before turning to answer Filthy Rich.

“Um, yes. Well, he did it by his own choice when I was not around.” Derpy suddenly found the floor to be extremely interesting. Her ears burned and she could feel Vinyl’s stare boring into her. Those eyes told her they'd be exchanging some very heated words as soon as Mr. Rich was gone.

“I'm so sorry,” she mouthed to Vinyl.

If he understood, he gave no sign.

Filthy Rich cleared his throat. “At the moment, we are looking to bring in an outside consultant to accommodate your client’s… new look. But first things first. I was told you have a sample of your upcoming work?”

Derpy took a deep breath and swallowed hard before speaking. “We do, Mr. Rich, but it might not exactly fit what was requested...”

“I have to say I'm disappointed, though I'm also curious. I have copies of all relevant documents right here,” Mr. Rich said, tapping on his binder, “and the instructions given to both of you were quite clear. Was there anything that you did not understand?”

“No, sir.”

“So then, am I to take it that this is deliberate disobedience?”

“N-no!” Derpy squealed. “It’s just that right now he’s working on some experimental music and even though it’s different it’s really good and—um…”

Derpy froze. Mr. Rich shook his head slowly.

“Ms. Hooves? Is your client going to—”

“No.” Vinyl interrupted the two.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Rich raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not making that kind of music anymore. I’ve done it and done it for years, and I just can’t go on doing it. I’ve already made this label more money than you could ever spend. Isn't it about time you let me go in my own direction?” Vinyl stood up from his chair.

Mr. Rich closed his binder and took a deep breath. “So, you think we're being unfair, do you? And you think that you can use your earnings as leverage against us to get what you want?”

Mr. Rich lit a cigarette. “I hate to break it to you, but this label wasn't built on your shoulders. Atlas can shrug here. As a matter of fact, I could throw you out on the street right now, go home, and sleep like a baby. Naturally, I don't want to do that, because I hate wasting good potential, but I must advise you to understand your place here and be a team player.”

At the mention of getting thrown out, all the blood drained from Derpy’s face. She gestured at Vinyl to stop. “Mr. Rich, could we have a mo—”

But Vinyl would not be stopped.

“So what? I don't get to make what I want to make even though you're the one who’s paying me to be creative?” Vinyl thought to himself, Was any of this worth it?

“It’s not that I don't understand your whole personal artistic quest, Ms. Scratch. The problem is that, well, to put it bluntly, your fans are idiots who won't understand it. While it’s important to you, this journey of musical self-discovery is a financial liability. We have an image to maintain here, and Manehattan Records is not going to put out a flop just because one of their artists threw a hissy fit.”

“Fine. I quit.”

Derpy’s jaw dropped. “Vinyl!” Her eyes darted back and forth between Vinyl and Mr. Rich as her heart pounded in her chest.

Mr. Rich’s eyes flared behind the smoke, but when he spoke, it was with practiced calm. “As I said, I hate wasting potential. Are you sure that this is what you want to do?”

“No, he’s not sure!” Derpy yelled. “He—he’s not thinking straight right now. Everything I was reporting to you…” Derpy struggled to find the right words. “He didn't know…”

“Well, well...” Mr. Rich stroked his chin thoughtfully. “You two do have a lot to talk about. Take your time.”

Derpy grabbed Vinyl by the collar of his jacket and pulled him outside to the reception area. A sticky note taped to the receptionist’s desk said she was on her lunch break, so Vinyl and Derpy were alone.

“Vinyl! What do you think you're doing? Are you trying to dismantle everything we worked so hard for these past few years?!”

Derpy still couldn't believe what Vinyl did. She helped him get to this point, and in the span of a few minutes, he was going to throw it all away.

“Right, you're the one who gets to be mad at me. Why are you talking to the executives behind my back? I trusted you! I opened up to you about stuff I couldn't even tell Octavia about! How long have they known about… about me?!”

“Vinyl, this is my job. I’m your friend, but I also have to manage everything you do, all of your press, and deal with all of the stress and the bookings and the money, and I also have to make sure you're fit to perform. You're my best friend, but this job is how I make sure my daughter can eat every day, and if that means that I have to tell the bosses about you without your permission, then I am sorry, but I am going to do what it takes to give Dinky the happy childhood that I never had!”

Derpy was only dimly aware that she was yelling. It hurt seeing Vinyl so upset, but what else could she do?

“I…” Vinyl stammered, then grunted as he changed the subject. “If stabbing your friends in the back is what it takes to earn a gold star here, then we shouldn't stick around. There has to be someone else we can work for. The independent labels—”

“—Can't even come close to matching our current salaries,” Derpy finished for him. “Are you aware that if we leave this company, we will lose all of our benefits? That fancy equipment you love so much? Our health insurance? Do you have any idea how expensive you are to insure? Even our homes! Everything that they've given us, they can take away!”

Vinyl tried to mentally calculate how much Octavia brought in as a session cellist. Not enough to keep living in the city she loved.

He wanted to scream. To hit Filthy Rich right in his smug face. To hit himself. But neither of those would solve anything. Neither he nor Octavia could support themselves in Manehattan without him suffering under Filthy Rich. They would have to start over again.

“Derpy, I hate it here. I thought that if I just stuck with it for a while, I could finally convince them to let me make my own way. But it’s just not going to happen.” Vinyl sat in the middle of the lobby, shivering. “They can take it all away from me if they want; I hope they choke. It’s not worth it. This is killing me, and I can't take it anymore.”

“So… that’s it?” Derpy’s tears stung as they fell onto her hot cheeks. “All that we did to get here, and you're just going to leave?”

“…Yeah.”

“Fine. Just go. I hope your fiancée feels the same way when she hears she’s losing her home.”

“Derpy…” Vinyl reached out to one of Derpy’s shoulders.

She slapped his hoof away from her.

“Go!” Derpy yelled. “Please just go. I can't talk to you right now.”

Vinyl was taken by surprise by Derpy’s anger. He had seen her angry before, but seeing the tears roll down her face truly made him feel guilty.

He turned around and walked to the other end of the hall. Before he went into the elevator, he turned and faced Derpy.

“…If I am not in town by next week, you know where I'll be.”

With that, he took the elevator and left Derpy behind.

She wiped the tears from her face. Her mascara smudged across her cheeks, but she didn’t care.

“I had a feeling she'd be a troublesome client,” someone said behind her. “Are you okay?”

Turning around, Derpy saw Mr. Rich standing in the doorway.

“Oh, Mister Rich. I didn't realize you were there.”

“I don't mean to pry, but I couldn't help but overhear.”

Derpy looked down at herself. She was an absolute mess. “I’m sorry, sir. That was...” She choked down a lingering whimper. “Very unprofessional of me.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Mr. Rich said, offering her his kerchief.

Derpy wiped her face clean.

“Vinyl Scratch is a tough one to handle. However, Ms. Hooves, you have always been an excellent employee in my eyes. Come on in,” he said, taking a step back and opening the door all the way. “We still have some business to discuss.”

“I'm not being fired?”

“Perish the thought. We have plenty of other clients in need of a manager of your… caliber.” Mr. Rich smiled, shutting the door behind Derpy as she followed him inside.

“Are you familiar with a Mr. Neon Lights?”

It was done. The last rope tying Vinyl to his old identity had been cut. As heavy as the regret weighed on his heart, he couldn't help but feel newfound lightness in his feet. The only worry on his mind now was what to say to Octavia—not to mention moving plans, since the label did provide him with the apartment and a majority of his production equipment.

Vinyl lit a cigarette and walked back to the apartment. The noise of the city all blended together in an irritating buzz and his headphones hung uselessly around his neck. The only music he heard was “What am I going to tell Octavia?” on endless repeat.

After an hour of walking and taking a small break at a local café, he returned to the apartment building.

Vinyl sighed. There was no way around it. He had to tell Octavia while there was still time to prepare for the inevitable.

Vinyl couldn't stop tapping his hoof as he took the elevator up to his apartment, walking inside slowly.

Octavia ran up to Vinyl, kissing him on the cheek. “That was quick. How did it go?” she asked with a smile.

As much as Vinyl wanted to smile back and tell her that everything was okay, he couldn’t.

“Tavi, we need to talk…”

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine, Bad_Seed_72, Furion and Proper Noun for helping with this chapter.

Chapter 6 - Moving

The house looked more like a storage unit than a home. Packed boxes were stacked on top of each other against the barren walls; all the pictures, art, and various decorations had been taken down. Vinyl and Derpy finished by placing a large cover sheet over the grand piano at the front of the home, closing the blinds to the window that it sat against.

“I think that’s it,” Vinyl said, rubbing the sweat off her forehead. She took a swig of water from her bottle and passed it.

“You're tired already? We only worked for half an hour.” Derpy stopped for a sip anyway.

“You know I was never fit compared to you.”

“I think running deliveries for the post office helped a bit.”

“Yeah.”

Vinyl walked to the center of the living room and looked around, picturing how the home was before it became filled with packed boxes and covered furniture.

“I wish I didn't have to leave.”

“I know this place has a lot of importance to you Vinyl, but you know we will have to have meetings at their headquarters. What are you going to do, commute every day? Not to mention, they're giving us free housing.”

“Even though I already own this place.”

“I'm sure you'll like it in Manehattan. The city has a lot more to do than Ponyville.”

Vinyl sighed. She knew Manehattan was a big place with more opportunities, but it wasn’t Ponyville. It wasn't her home.

“Can we say goodbye to my mother before we go, Derpy?”

“We still haven't gotten our tickets, so its best we go straight to the train station. You talked to her yesterday, didn't you?”

“I did, but I just wanted to say—” Vinyl was cut off by Derpy.

“Look Vinyl, we have a meeting with them tomorrow and even if we leave now, we won't be there until tomorrow morning.”

“All right, fine.” Vinyl sighed. “Can I just have a moment?”

“Sure, I'll be outside.” Derpy walked out and left her alone. Vinyl walked over to the large covered piano by the window and placed her hoof on it.

“Goodbye.” Lifting her hoof away, Vinyl turned to join Derpy outside.

“Hon, what’s wrong?” Octavia trotted up to Vinyl’s side. Vinyl said nothing, so she wrapped a hoof around his shoulders. “Did… they not like it?”

“The meeting didn't go well.” Vinyl shrugged out of Octavia’s embrace and walked over to the living room, collapsing onto the sofa. Octavia followed and sat next to him.

“What happened?”

Vinyl groaned. Octavia’s caring gaze only made the words harder to say. How could he tell her that he'd just thrown everything away?

He wanted to tell her that he was just kidding. That everything went great - so great in fact that he'd be bringing home more money than ever before. But when he looked up into Octavia’s eyes, Vinyl found himself blurting out the truth.

“Things didn't go well with my boss. Derpy and I got into an argument.” He stopped, taking in a breath of air and letting it out slowly. “And I quit my job today.”

Octavia’s mouth dropped.

“You what!?” she yelled, making Vinyl flinch.

“Things were not going well, so I quit.”

“And you didn’t even talk to me about quitting your job!? Vinyl, you coming out to me last week was unexpected, but at least it was something I could handle.” Octavia slumped back in her seat. Refusing to look at Vinyl, she stared daggers at the ottoman.

“Octavia, I’m sorry I did this without talking to you about it, but—”

“But what? You couldn't take a five minute break to tell me that you felt like throwing away our future?”

“No, I—” Vinyl squeaked.

“Do they not have phones at Manehattan Records?”

“No, I couldn't take it anymore!” Vinyl screamed. “I just couldn't, okay?”

Octavia sighed, halfheartedly punching the armrest before resting her head in her hooves. “Vinyl… I know you’re under tremendous stress at work, but this is really big. Not ‘I’m sorry I smoked in the apartment and set off the fire alarm’ big, I mean this is going to change our whole lives.” Octavia sniffled, wiping her face. “You can't just go and do these things on your own, because it’s not just you who has to deal with the consequences— it’s us.”

Vinyl tried to respond, to tell her how sorry he was, but no words escaped as he fell into Octavia’s lap and sobbed. Despite her anger, Octavia found herself stroking a hoof through his mane softly. Eventually, Vinyl quieted down and they were left unsure of what to say.

“So... what now?”

Vinyl groaned and stretched. “Since this place and a good chunk of its possessions are lent by my company, we have to move.”

“I figured,” Octavia sat next to Vinyl. “I know some ponies in the real-estate business, actually. You'd be surprised how many high society parties are just for new buildings opening. I’m sure if we explained our situation to them, they'd give us a deal on some nice places nearby. I know we have enough money in the savings to—”

“We're not staying here.” Vinyl said, cutting off Octavia.

“Excuse me?”

“In Manehattan, I mean.”

“You can't be serious. I know you are unemployed, Vinyl, but I still have work here.”

“Has anyone hired you as a full-time cellist since we've been together?”

“You're not turning this around on me,” Octavia snorted. “You're still the one in trouble here.”

“No, I don't mean it like that. Seriously, has anyone even offered you a full-time position?”

Octavia closed her eyes, thinking hard. Other than a few temp positions with some fairly popular groups, she didn't have a particularly steady income, and the prospect of being first chair in a symphony seemed no closer than when she started. “No.”

“Why do you think that is? You know you're a better cellist than anyone else.”

“Well, I-I simply haven't had my big breakthrough like you have. Not everyone is lucky enough to strike gold on their first try like you.”

“No, they're not giving you your big breakthrough. And they won’t. Because you're not one of them. And that’s what made me want to get to know you at that party all those years ago. They snapped me up because I was some young stupid DJ they could exploit. You deserve to do better than being stuck temping because you're not a snobby asshole like the rest of them.

“Manehattan is overcrowded anyway. I can make my music anywhere, and I just need to find an independent label somewhere in Equestria to get by. And in any other city but this one, you’d be the biggest cellist for miles!”

“You’re right,” Octavia said with a sigh. “I've lived here for a majority of my life and if something was going to happen in my career, it would have by now. The thought of leaving is just… frightening. Do you know what I mean?”

“So… you want to stick with me?” Vinyl asked.

“What? Of course I do,” Octavia laid her head on Vinyl’s shoulder. “I told you I would stick with you no matter what, didn't I?” She smirked a little as she waved a hoof in front of Vinyl’s face, showing off her gold band. “What did you think I meant when I said yes, silly?”

“Thanks.” Vinyl rubbed Octavia’s back.

“But where are we going to go?”

“Ponyville.”

“Pony…Ville?”

“It’s a small town below Canterlot. I, um, own a house there.”

“Oh, that’s good—wait, what?”

“I own a house there,” Vinyl said sheepishly.

Octavia’s blinked. “You own a house?”

“Um, yeah.”

“And you never bothered to tell me?”

“Yes?” Octavia’s eyes narrowed, and Vinyl immediately knew he’d made a mistake. “It’s just, I lived there since I was a child. Derpy actually lived with me there for a short time as well. Once I got the music deal we moved and have lived here since, but you can't just get rid of your home.”

“But why didn't you tell me?”

“I still pay insurance and property taxes on the house. It’s only a fraction of my paycheck, but money’s been tight, so I was worried you would tell me to sell it off.”

“I see,” Octavia said, still struggling to process it all. “I really wish you had told me, but at least you didn't temper tantrum us into homelessness.” Octavia shook her head, reaching out to stroke Vinyl’s cheek. “You'll still be sleeping on the couch for a while, though. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” Vinyl smiled.

“So, when do we have to move out?”

“Before the end of the week.”

Over the next few days Octavia and Vinyl spent their time loading a few personal items into cardboard boxes, leaving the rest of the items lent by Vinyl’s record label behind. By the end of the week, the apartment only contained a few bare necessities, almost as empty as the day he had moved in.

Vinyl haphazardly tossed a few last possessions into his saddlebags: his cassettes, Octavia’s books, and a folder containing important documents. Putting on his jacket, he checked the pockets to make sure he had his cigarettes and cassette player, then placed his saddlebags on his back.

“I think that’s it. Are you taking anything else?” Vinyl asked, looking over at Octavia.

“I already packed my clothes in those boxes we shipped.” She picked up her cello and bow, placing them carefully into a soft travel case, then swung the large bag onto her back and smiled. “This is all I need with me.”

Vinyl nodded and took one more walk through the apartment, scanning the rooms to be sure nothing was left behind and finishing at the front door.

“Ready to leave?”

Octavia stood in the living room, looking around the apartment one last time. She knew Vinyl didn’t like the apartment much, but it was where she had spent a majority of her time with him. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the door. “Let’s go.”

They both left the apartment behind and took the elevator down to the first floor. As the doors opened, a stallion at the reception desk spotted them and trotted over to head them off.

“Excuse me, but there is a large crowd of ponies with cameras outside the building. I think they may be here for you.” He said pointing to Vinyl.

“Paparazzi?” Octavia asked. The stallion nodded.

“Figures they only show up when things are not going well. You have a back door?”

“This way,” he said, opening the door behind his desk and walking through a back room. Unlike the entrance to the apartment complex, the floors and walls were mostly stained concrete. The three walked through a small, dusty break room with nothing but a table and vending machine.

They stopped at a door at the back of the room and the stallion pulled back a rather imposing looking deadbolt and swung the door open, presenting an even dirtier alleyway nestled between the apartment buildings.

“Thanks,” Vinyl said, giving the stallion a small tip and exiting through the back door. Octavia nodded to him and stuck close to Vinyl, the two walking through an alley between the tall buildings, where only the gaps in the rooftops provided a small opening for sunlight.

“Have you had to deal with ponies like that before?” Octavia said, sticking close behind Vinyl.

“Yeah, you can say they are one of the reasons I want to stay out of stardom.” Stopping at a large opening, Vinyl looked both ways before crossing an intersecting alleyway. “That and the screaming fans.”

The two spent another few minutes walking to the end of the alley, keeping their distance from the paparazzi at Vinyl’s apartment. Reaching the end, they found themselves on a street corner. Vinyl called out a taxi. One immediately stopped for them, and they both climbed on.

“Where to?” the stallion driving the taxi grumbled.

“Outer Manehattan Station.”

Arriving at the station, Vinyl gave a few bits to the driver while Octavia stepped off and looked around, taking in the city one last time.

“Are you going to miss it here?” Vinyl said, standing next to her.

“No… no, I've been here most of my life and am open to a change really.” She looked at Vinyl. “I just hope we don't run into any more trouble.”

“I'll make sure that doesn't happen.”

They both walked inside the station and got in line for tickets. The station was, like most days, packed full of both regular commuters and tourists.

“Next!” a mare said from behind the counter, and Vinyl and Octavia walked up to her.

“Two tickets for Ponyville, coach class please,” Vinyl said.

"One minute please—wait, did you say coach?"

"Yeah. Is something wrong?"

"Oh no, no," the mare said, waving a hoof dismissively. "It's just that you two look more like the kind who like to ride first class. Aren't you that famous DJ?"

"Yes..." Vinyl shuffled back and forth a bit. "I just... wanted to try something different." He fumbled with his saddlebag, which contained what was left of his earnings. There was easily enough to afford first class tickets, but who knew how long they'd have to coast on it?

The mare behind the counter processed the tickets and handed them to Vinyl. “Have a nice day.”

“Thanks,” Vinyl grabbed the tickets and passed one to Octavia.

“Next,” the mare behind the counter said again, while they both walked toward their train platform.

Arriving, a few ponies were standing around while others sat on nearby benches. Vinyl and Octavia remained standing as they waited for their train.

“So we're really doing this, leaving everything behind and starting anew,” Octavia said.

“Not everything,” Vinyl said, nuzzling her cheek. “I still have you.”

“That’s sweet.” Octavia smiled. “But you know what I mean.”

“If it means anything, Ponyville is beautiful town. I’m looking forward to seeing if anyone I know is still there, not to mention our wedding, once we settle.” Vinyl pulled out a cigarette and lit it up to have a smoke.

“I had to call that dressmaker. She thought we were cancelling our wedding when I wanted to cancel my dress order. I... hadn't realized crying could be so loud over the phone. However, when I told her about Ponyville, she said she had a friend there who specialized in dresses: a mare by the name of Rarity.”

“Rarity? I know her a little. My mother would visit her shop often for custom orders and would drag me along.”

Octavia’s ears perked. “You never mentioned your mother much.”

“It’s not like I don't love her or anything. I just… I don't like talking about it.” Vinyl saw the train coming, right on time. He quickly took another hard pull on his cigarette, trying to burn what he could before the train arrived.

“I understand.”

The train came to a stop, and on boarding, they found their seats adjacent. Vinyl took the window side and placed his bags underneath the seat in front of him, while Octavia sat on the outside, and kept her cello case in between the two.

“Why coach and not first class?” Octavia asked.

“Less attention, and you have to remember we are not going to be able to live a life of luxury like we did in Manehattan.”

“I see…”

The intercom rang across the train that it was about to depart, soon afterwards it began to move, departing the station and soon, the city. By then the sun had begun to set, the world transitioning from late afternoon into evening. Vinyl and Octavia looked out the window, watching the scenery pass from cityscape to countryside.

For the rest of the ride, Octavia read one of her books while Vinyl listened to his cassettes, the two holding each other’s hooves while they waited.

Once it got late, Octavia yawned and closed her book, setting her head on Vinyl’s shoulders, closing her eyes whispering to him.

“Let me know when we get there.”

“All right.”

Vinyl kept his headphones on, looking at the passing dark countryside. He was looking forward to heading back to his hometown, but how his past friends and acquaintances would take his new presentation felt uncertain, especially since he was returning without giving them a call or any other kind of notice. Will they recognize me? How will they feel about my new identity?

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine and Proper Noun for helping with this chapter.

Chapter 7 - Welcome Home

“You’re what?”

“I am dating a mare. I realize that this may be… unexpected, but she’s really nice. I think that you would like her. Her name is Beauty Brass, and she’s—”

“Since when did you start dating mares?” Octavia’s mother cut in. “You dated stallions in high school. What has this college done to you?”

“Mother, I simply date any pony I find interesting. Mare or stallion.”

“Then could you please be more discreet about your dalliances? What you do is your business, but I will not let my daughter shame us with her...” Octavia’s mother stopped, stammering her next few words. “Sexual deviance! We’re not paying thousands per year for you to turn into some kind of pervert!”

“How dare you!” Octavia stomped her hooves. “I am a mare, mother, not your little filly at your beck and call. I will not hide myself away just to satisfy you.”

“You will do as your mother says, Octavia,” her father said, stepping into the conversation. “It's not that we don't want you to be happy, but you know we can't be associated with this sort of thing. It tarnishes us all. It's what's best for all of us. Can't you see that?"

"You always have to be the understanding one, don't you Cyan?" Octavia's mother struggled to hold back tears. "You know the reason she's turned out this way is because she's never had a strong male role model."

"Not now, Majesty, not now!"

"Can't you see what you're doing to this family?”

“You can’t be serious!” Octavia yelled.

“I am.” Her father stood next to an old family photo. “You can still attend your school, Octavia, but if you are going to insist upon this selfishness, then you should at least have the courtesy to never bring your ‘marefriends’ here, and we ask you only come here during holidays.”

“You’re disowning me?” Octavia tried her best to hold back her tears, but couldn’t restrain a low whine and shudder.

“You are still a part of this family, but we can’t have you presenting yourself this way.” Cyan placed his hoof over the family photo. “You have a difficult choice to make, Octavia. What’s more important, your family or your… lifestyle?”

Octavia immediately stood up. “Fine! If you don’t want me, then I will be going.”

Her father placed the family photo face down. “So be it.”

Octavia quickly walked out of the family room and went to the stairs of the large home. Walking up a floor, she encountered her parents’ butler.

“Mistress Octavia—”

“I’m sorry, Fare.” She cut past him, heading straight to her room.

She grabbed her school saddlebags and packed them full with what she could take with her. The butler walked in, closing the door behind him.

“Mistress.”

“What, Fare!?” Octavia yelled, turning her head to him, fresh tears still trickling down her face He still held his posture, but shifted his weight from side to side.

“While I honorably serve your parents, I do not approve of their actions. Please do not tell them this, but I myself have a grandson who recently married his longtime boyfriend.”

“Well, congratulations to him. It must be nice having a family that doesn’t hate him.” Octavia wiped the most recent tears from her eyes, then placed the bags on her back.

“Apologies, Mistress. That is not what I meant. I wish I could do more for you, but if you need anything else from this home before you move out...”

“…Anything?”

He nodded.

“The old cello in the library, the one our family have been using as a decoration for the past few generations. I’ve always wanted to play it. It’s one of a kind, but all mother and father do with it is collect dust. Can you get it?”

“Give me a few minutes. I can sneak it out before we leave.”

“You will?” Octavia smiled.

“Yes. Wait in the the private carriage in the garage.”

She threw her hooves around him, holding the old stallion tightly. “Thank you.”

“You were always my favorite in this family. Even with the education they gave you, you deserve better.”

“What if they find out?”

“I was planning to retire sooner than later.” His ears perked up as steps echoed through the hall, approaching Octavia’s room. “Quickly, before anypony finds out.”

“Right!” Octavia opened the door and froze, surprised by a large, muscular stallion in a suit. His coat was white, and he wore a golden ring in each of his ears.

“Everything all right up here?” The security guard said, looking down at Octavia and back up at the butler.

“Yes. I will be taking Mistress Octavia back to her school. Can you be sure she makes it to the private carriage in the garage? I need to grab something before I leave.”

“Sure, no problem.” He looked back down at Octavia. “You, follow me. No loitering, wandering off, or funny business.”

“Fine,” she huffed, following the guard down the hallway to the stairs. The butler soon headed down to take Octavia back to school, but not before giving her one last gift.

Octavia opened her eyes, waking up with her head resting on Vinyl’s side. He was snoring like a brass band. Sitting up, she blinked her eyes a few times and looked out the window, where more of the countryside rolled slowly past.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the intercom blared across the car. “Approaching Ponyville Station,” a monotone voice dully declared.

Vinyl awoke at the noise with a groan, and lifted his head. “That damn thing has kept me awake all night.”

“Morning, sleepy-head.” Octavia smiled.

“Morning.” Vinyl stretched his neck and forelegs. “You looked like you had a nice rest.”

“Not exactly. I still wish we had a sleeping car.”

“Well, when I blow it here, I'll make sure we have first class tickets," Vinyl said, sticking out his tongue. Octavia prodded his side.

"That's not funny."

"Mmph." Vinyl rubbed his side. "Come on, it's a little funny."

Octavia shook her head. Vinyl shrugged and stood up, stretching more vigorously once he had some space. As he looked around, he noticed there was hardly anyone in the car. He was distracted by a growl from his stomach. “We didn’t pack any snacks, did we?”

“Maybe they will serve us breakfast?”

“I doubt it. Besides, we’re about to enter town.”

Octavia sighed and checked up on her cello quickly, to make sure there was no damage along the trip.

“It’s fine, though. I know a good place or two in town for breakfast,” Vinyl added.

“Clean places, right?”

“Of course! When have I steered you wrong?”

The intercom rang out across the train again. “Now arriving at Ponyville Station. Please do not forget your personal belongings.”

Octavia looked out the window with Vinyl next to her, surveying the town. Unlike Manehattan with its giant grey buildings and skyscrapers, the town only contained a few tall buildings, with a majority of the businesses having only one or two floors.

“Looks about the same. Happy to see that,” Vinyl said.

“So this is where you used to live?”

“Yup, nothing else like it.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Vinyl looked at Octavia with a smile, and gave her a kiss on the lips; she returned the same.

“Let’s get ready,” Vinyl said, placing his packed bags on his sides. Octavia swung her cello case onto her back. Soon the train stopped and the doors opened.

Vinyl walked out first, taking in his first breath of fresh air. Octavia did the same, but sneezed immediately.

“Not used to country air?”

“I guess not,” she said, blowing and wiping her nose with a handkerchief.

“You should get used to it after a while,” he said, rubbing her back. “Want to get some breakfast?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Vinyl and Octavia left the station and began walking down a dirt road approaching town. As they arrived, the dirt road transitioned into a wide open road covered in grass, where ponies walked freely.

“They just allow ponies to walk around in the street?” Octavia wondered aloud. “It feels so open here, compared to Manehattan.”

“Yup, quiet and peaceful too.” Vinyl pulled out his pack of cigarettes only to find one left. Groaning, he lit it up and put the empty pack back into his jacket.

“So, where are we going to eat?”

“Just a franchise place called Goldy’s. They normally serve junk food during lunch and dinner hours, but their breakfast is pretty good.”

“Sounds nice,” Octavia said, pausing briefly to rub her rumbling belly.

After a few more minutes of walking and finishing his last cigarette, they arrived at the diner. Most of the establishment could be seen from outside thanks to its large windows. Inside patrons sat in booths, and waitresses walked back and forth past tacky New Art on the walls. A sign on the roof read ‘GOLDY’S’ in bold red print.

As they entered, Vinyl and Octavia were greeted by a mare in an apron.

“Mornin’! Welcome to the Goldy’s! Just the two of y’all?”

Octavia’s eye twitched and she turned and looked to Vinyl, who smiled and answered, “Yup, just the two of us.”

“This way, please.” The mare turned and quickly trotted to a corner in the diner. “M’name’s Goldy and I’ll be your server today,” she said, placing two menus on the table and pouring two cups of coffee.

“As in the Goldy?”

The waitress laughed. “No, silly. What gave you that impression? If y’all need anything, just holler at me,” the waitress said, walking off.

“Thank you.” Vinyl picked up his menu.

“Vinyl, I honestly did not understand half of what that mare said,” Octavia said, placing her cello against the seat next to her.

“You’ll understand after a while. Find something you want to order.” Vinyl closed his menu.

Octavia had her menu open on the table, marvelling at the pages and pages of pictures in place of descriptions. “What is a ‘hay slam’?”

“See that picture with the plate of eggs, hash browns, grits and a separate plate of pancakes?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a hay slam.”

Octavia stared at the image of a meal the size of a foal. “And this is a single item on the menu?”

“Yep.”

“Are y’all ready to order?” the waitress said as she returned to the table. She held up a notepad in her hoof and a pen in her mouth.

“I’ll have the cheese ‘n’ pepper omelette,” Vinyl said, between sips of coffee.

“I’ll have this one.” Octavia pointed to the picture on her menu.

“I’m surprised you ate all of that. Most ponies that order a slam tend to skip the pancakes,” Vinyl said.

“I told you I was hungry.”

He chuckled, then looked at the town’s clock tower. It was only 9AM.

“One thing before we go to my place.”

“What is it?”

Vinyl pulled out his cigarette pack and showed the empty box to Octavia.

“Need to refill. There should still be a convenience store down the road.”

“All right.” Octavia sighed. “I suppose we could use some groceries and other things as well.”

“Good idea.”

After a few minutes and a brisk trot through the business district, they found the convenience store at the other end of the street and walked inside.

Octavia grabbed a basket and began going around the store picking out various food and items. While she did that, Vinyl walked over to a newspaper dispenser and placed a bit inside the machine; pulling out a paper, he read through the headlines. Most were the usual boring small town news stories, but one caught his eye.

‘FAMOUS DJ CALLS IT QUITS, DISAPPEARS FROM SPOTLIGHT’

The article mentioned DJ PON-3’s recent performance in Canterlot and her sudden, inexplicable departure from the music industry afterwards. The last paragraph also noted the former DJ’s manager, Derpy Hooves, switching over to a new rising DJ by the name of Neon Lights. They were working together on Neon’s first single.

Vinyl shook his head and threw the paper into the trash with a violent burst of telekinesis just as Octavia walked up to him, the full basket in the crook of her foreleg counterbalanced by a shift of her cello’s position on her back.

“What were you reading?” she asked, forcing the startled edge out of her voice.

“Oh, just celebrity gossip. Nothing important. Ready to check out?”

Octavia nodded, and they walked up the register, where a stallion with a blue coat and light blue mane stood behind the counter.

“This it?” he asked, taking items out of the basket and punching them into the register.

“Also two packs of Crystal greens,” Vinyl said. “Hundreds, if you got ‘em.”

“Only got shorts.”

“That’s fine,” Vinyl grumbled.

The stallion turned around and grabbed two packs of cigarettes and rang them up. He handed them to Vinyl, then paused, looking at him curiously.

“Say, do I know you? You look familiar.”

Vinyl was taken by surprise.

“Um, can’t say. I did attend school here, so maybe? Never can tell.”

“Ah well,” the stallion said, packing the items up into a large paper bag. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Your total is sixty bits.”

“Sixty?” Vinyl looked over at Octavia. “What the heck did you grab?”

“A bit of everything,” Octavia said sheepishly.

Vinyl sighed and placed a few bills and bits on the counter.

“Have a good day,” the cashier said.

Vinyl nodded, picking up the brown paper bag with his magic and walking out of the store with Octavia, ready to head home.

The two of them walked along the road through Ponyville’s business district and into a residential area filled with townhouses. Octavia glanced over a few of the houses as they passed, looking at the decorations and small touch-ups residents had done to personalize their homes.

Vinyl stopped in front of one home, staring at it silently. Unlike the others, this one had two large bay windows dominating the front, and looked like it hadn’t been lived in for years. The blinds in the windows were drawn and covered with dust, and the cream paint on the trim was flaking off. Small weeds dotted the path leading to the steps.

“Is this it?” Octavia asked, looking at Vinyl.

“Yeah, this is it.” He dug through his jacket pockets and pulled out a single key. Walking up the steps, he unlocked and opened the door.

The daylight only managed to light the first few feet of the foyer. Dust had settled on every visible surface, rising in small clouds and making Vinyl cough with each hoofstep he took inside. He pulled back the blinds to let more light in, revealing what must have once been a lovely home now littered with boxes and covered furniture.

“Can we even spend the night here?” Octavia asked as she walked in after him.

“Of course. Just prop the door open. I’m going to crack open all the windows. We just need get rid of this dust and get this furniture uncovered.” He placed his bags next to the large window.

“Feel free to look around. I’m going to go downstairs and turn the power back on at the breaker,” he said, throwing the front windows open. “After that, I’m going to do a quick sweep around to make sure nothing got damaged over time.”

“Okay.” Octavia took the cello case off her back, placing it next to Vinyl’s bags, and walked over to the kitchen, while Vinyl disappeared through a door into the darkened basement. Inside, she found nicely tiled floors, an old stove, and a fridge with a small freezer on top. She also took notice of the wooden cabinets, and opened them up to find neatly organized dishware.

Her gaze turned again, lingering on the refrigerator. Images of curdled milk, expired fried rice, and black bananas flashed through her mind. "Oh, please don't tell me..." She groaned and placed a quivering hoof on the fridge door, and yanked it open. Though dark inside, the fridge was mercifully devoid of food. Octavia released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Returning to the living room, she went over the other large window, where a massive object rested against the interior wall, dominating the room even from under the heavy sheet that covered it. She placed her hooves over the cover and pulled it away, revealing a grand piano underneath. The branding on the front was the first thing to catch her eye.

‘Phemius and Sons’

“Wow.” Octavia lightly traced the inlaid gold script with her hoof. These were the best pianos money could buy, engineered by Gryphons and famed for their build quality. What was Vinyl doing with such a top of the line instrument? Looking to the top of the piano, she found a photo frame lying face down. Picking it up, she saw the face of a young mare. “No way…”

Vinyl stepped in from upstairs. “So, what do you think of—” He stopped mid sentence on seeing Octavia with the photo.

“Is… Is this your mother?” she asked, turning the photo around. It showed a smiling unicorn mare with the same off-white coat as Vinyl, a long wine-red mane, and bright red eyes.

“Y-yeah.” Vinyl sat down on the covered sofa in front of Octavia, and she joined him. “That was my mother. You know, before she passed away.” Vinyl took the frame.

“I know you didn’t tell me much about your mother, other than that she passed away early and that you loved her. Still, you never told me your mother was a pianist—much less Claret Rondeau.”

“How do you know her name?”

“I bought some of her records when I was young. I even went to see her perform live.”

“Yeah, I guess she was talented.”

“Why didn’t you tell me more about her?”

“Like I said, bad memories.” Vinyl stroked the photograph before gently placing it back on the piano. “She was diagnosed with magic degeneration when I was sixteen. Just a stupid kid, y’know? I was still crying over school crushes and breakups, and she had to figure out how to tell me she was dying.” Vinyl began to breathe heavily, his memories coming back.

“Magic degeneration?” Octavia said, tilting her head curiously.

“It’s a rare cancer that only affects unicorns. It’s not hereditary,” he said, laughing joylessly. “Of course I read everything I could about it as soon as I found out, but to make it simple, whenever my mother used magic, it slowly killed her brain over time. It attacks the area of the brain reserved for magic use and its growth is spurred on by heavy usage.” Vinyl had to stop and breathe rapidly before he could continue, and Octavia rubbed his back gently. “It forms early on, giving unicorns occasional headaches, so her doctor thought it was just stress. It’s a pretty common mistake, apparently.”

Octavia wrapped her foreleg around Vinyl bringing him closer to her.

“Once she was diagnosed, it was too late. Doctors told her if she underwent treatment she could live for another few years, so she went the local hospital here for treatments every few weeks.” He began to cry, but forced himself to keep talking.

“She stopped playing piano when she was diagnosed; she did her best to stop using magic entirely. I decided to dedicate most of my time with her rather than school, helping her any way I could.”

“If this is too much, you can stop.” Octavia rubbed Vinyl’s back again.

“It’s fine,” Vinyl sniffled. “After my eighteenth birthday, her health was quickly deteriorating. She... died a few weeks later. After her passing I was given everything in her will, including this house.” He looked over at the piano.

“After she died, I went back into high school and started experimenting with music. I didn't graduate until I was twenty, and I couldn’t play that piano when she was gone. It wasn’t the same, playing it without her here to listen.” Vinyl stopped, letting more tears find their way down his cheeks. “It’s been nearly ten years, and I still miss her.”

Octavia wrapped both her hooves around Vinyl and rested his head against her chest. “Thank you. I’m sorry you had to go through that, and that you went through it again in telling me.”

“I would have to tell you sooner or later, just seeing that piano and her face. It all came back.”

“If it means anything, Vinyl, she raised a great child.”

“...Thanks.”

An hour later, Vinyl settled down and the two began dusting out the home and uncovering furniture. By the mid afternoon they took a break, sitting in the kitchen eating with what they grabbed from the convenience store.

“So, now I am curious. Were you friends with Derpy during all of that?”

“Yeah, I met her when I was in high school. She helped us both when mom was diagnosed. The usual household stuff I didn’t have time for anymore, you know? She truly was a great friend.”

“Do you think we’ll see her again?”

“I told her where I would be if I left Manehattan,” Vinyl said, taking a sip of his water. “She’ll come around one day, I’m sure.”

“I hope so.”

The two finished lunch and went back to cleaning and straightening up the home. It would take at least a week to finish up entirely, but at the end of the afternoon, most of the dust was gone and the furniture was uncovered.

“Phew, I think we got enough done today.” Vinyl took some deep breaths between his words, exhausted from working.

“I agree.” Octavia wiped her forehead with a towel.

“Want to head out for some food?”

“That sounds lovely.”

Vinyl and Octavia cleaned themselves up and closed the windows before leaving. Side by side, they walked back through the business district. Vinyl pointed at various businesses, telling Octavia how the pet spa used to be a toy store his mother would take him to or how he and Cutie used to play in that fountain. Suddenly, he stopped in the middle of the road.

"Sorry, I got so caught up that I forgot we're supposed to be looking for a place to eat," Vinyl said with a laugh. "Anything happen to catch your eye?"

"I'll leave the choice to you. It's your hometown, after all. Besides," Octavia said with a smile, "it's nice hearing about your childhood."

"Just don't tell me you want another hay slam." Vinyl stuck out his tongue.

"I think one was enough."

"We're actually pretty close to a pizzeria I liked—if it's still there."

"Pizza would be nice."

“I know Manehattan is known for its pizza, but I think that was the best pizza I had in a while,” Octavia said, walking next to Vinyl.

“Glad you liked it. Can we do one more thing before we head back?” Vinyl stopped.

“What do you want to do this late?”

Vinyl looked down, shuffling his hooves. “Do you... want to see my mother?”

Octavia tilted her head in confusion, but then it clicked. “Oh! Yes, we can do that.”

“All right. It’s a bit of a walk.”

Vinyl and Octavia left the business district and followed a side street out of town, then climbed a walkway up a hill that was lit by night-time lamps.

At the top they came upon a cemetery, dimly lit by some lamps and candles sitting on some of the graves.

“Where is she?”

“Not here, exactly. Over there.” Vinyl pointed to a tree at the other end of the cemetery, sitting at the highest point of the hill. Walking across the graveyard and up a few steps, they reached the tree. Beneath it was a large, lonely tombstone.

Claret Rondeau

Loving Mother

Talented Musician

Born 954 CE · Died 993 CE · Age 39

Vinyl sat in front of it, placing his hoof tenderly on the name.

“Hey, mom. Sorry I was gone for a long while. I managed to make it big, like I said I would, but I think I’d rather have done it more like you did. The high life isn’t as fun as it looked from the outside. Lots of stress, trying to figure out who you can trust. It’s been really rough, and sometimes I wish you were here to tell me how you managed it, but somepony very close to me has helped me all throughout it.” Vinyl began to weep as Octavia sat down quietly next to him.

“Her name is Octavia, and she is my fiancée.” Vinyl removed his hoof from the tombstone, placing it over Octavia’s.

“She’s a great mare, mom. You would like her.” Octavia found herself tearing up as well.

Vinyl paused, and the two sat next to each other quietly for several minutes, looking at the tombstone.

“I’m sure my mother would like to hear from you,” Vinyl finally said, breaking the silence.

Octavia smiled, and shifted closer to the tombstone.

“Hello, Ms. Rondeau. I’m glad to have met you. You raised a great son.”

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine and Proper Noun for helping with this chapter.

Chapter 8 - Old Times

Vinyl walked home slowly, tracing the route from memory. She didn’t bother watching where she was going. Why would it matter? Everything was over anyway. And her day had going well until Bon Bon...

“I don’t think this is working. You just seem… different.”

Who are you calling different, you… you… Whatever the word was, it wouldn’t come. Vinyl’s home loomed in front of her like a prison. She wanted nothing more than to collapse in her mother’s lap and feel her run her hooves through her mane like she always would. But will she even want to hold me if she finds out I like mares?

Vinyl took a breath, then pushed the door open and walked inside. Her mother was playing the piano. Claret gave her daughter a smile, immediately noticing her glum expression.

“Hello, dear. How was school?” Claret stopped playing and turned to focus on Vinyl.

“It was –” Vinyl paused “– fine. Just fine.” She slumped onto the sofa.

“Are you sure?” Claret got up from her piano bench and sat next to Vinyl.

“I told you, I’m fine.”

Claret shook her head slowly. “You don’t sound fine.”

Vinyl snorted, crossing her forelegs.

“Vinyl, I’m your mother. You know you can tell me anything.” She placed her hoof on Vinyl’s shoulder.

“Mom, I already told you, I’m…” Vinyl shuddered, her heart pounding. “I’m not fine.”

“What’s wrong, dear?”

Vinyl sat there in silence; she knew that her mother was onto her, and would have to tell her.

“You’d love me no matter what, right mom?”

“Of course I would,” Claret replied hastily, her eyes wide.

“Even if I was different?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, see I have this friend, and she told me today that she’s… well, attracted to mares. And I’m trying to figure out what to think about it. I mean, she’s still herself, so it shouldn’t be a big deal, right? I mean, If I was–you know–too,” Vinyl broke off, looking out the window and rubbing her foreleg, “you wouldn’t look at me differently. Would you?”

“Well,” Claret said, thinking for a moment. Vinyl had always been different from her: the way she talked, the way she dressed herself, but she had always been content to dismiss it as the generational gap. “I wouldn’t think of you any differently. What’s important to me is that my daughter gets to have a long, happy life.”

“I—” Vinyl stopped, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for whatever her mother had to say. “I think I like mares then, mom.”

“That’s—” Claret paused. “How long have you known you liked mares?”

“A long time, I think. It just wasn’t until the last two years I realized what it was I was feeling about other mares. I wanted to tell you sooner or later, but I was afraid you would hate me.”

“Of course not, Vinyl. You are my daughter; I would never hate you over something like that.” Claret smiled. “Come here.” She pulled Vinyl into a hug.

“Thanks, mom,” Vinyl said, wiping her eyes.

“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

“My girlfriend broke up with me,” Vinyl whimpered. Despite her best efforts, tears formed and rolled down her cheeks.

“Oh, poor baby,” Claret said, running a hoof through her daughter’s mane. “Do you want to talk about it?” Vinyl shrugged, so Claret asked anyway. “How long were you two together?”

“Only 2 months—and she was my first,” Vinyl added hastily. “When she left, she said it was because I was different from other mares.”

“How so?”

“I wish I knew! She said I don’t do things like other mares do. I dunno. Because I don’t get makeovers? O-or wear fancy dresses?” Vinyl cried into her mother’s shoulder. “What’s so wrong with me being me?”

“Vinyl, you shouldn’t be ashamed of being yourself. Anyone who doesn’t like who my daughter is inside doesn’t deserve her.” She patted Vinyl’s back.

“I know,” Vinyl tried her best to talk, sniffling.

“She was only one mare among many others. I am sure you will find someone else that fits you like a glove.”

The two sat there in silence for a moment. Vinyl cried into her mother’s shoulder, and Claret held her tightly until she calmed down.

“Thanks, mom.”

Vinyl opened his eyes. It was the middle of the night, and he was lying next to Octavia in their newly-arranged bedroom. He glanced over to the clock on the bedside table, which showed it was only 4AM. With the thoughts of his mother still at the back of his mind, he got up out of bed and headed downstairs.

Using a spell to emit a dim light, he walked downstairs into the dark living room and turned on a single lamp to dimly light the inside of the home. He then walked into the kitchen and opened the door to the fridge looking at anything he could snack on late in the evening.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised to find that Octavia bought a case of beer at the convenience store. But there it was, right in the center of the top shelf of the fridge and covered in inviting red print. He took a can, closed the fridge again, and moved to the kitchen table, popping the tab of his beer and taking a few sips.

He then heard someone walking down the stairs slowly. A moment later, Octavia shuffled into the living room. She looked around and saw Vinyl sitting in the kitchen, blinked the sleep from her eyes, and moved to join him.

“Something bothering you?” she asked. Vinyl drinking her beer couldn’t be a good sign.

“Just thinking about my mother again. The good times, nothing bad.”

“I wish I had good memories of my own family.” Octavia walked over to the fridge and grabbed another drink for herself, then sat at the opposite end to drink with Vinyl.

"Well, that's dark."

"You're marrying an artist, hon. We're not exactly famous for being happy or well-adjusted."

"Fair point. So, since when do you drink beer? I thought you only liked the fancy stuff."

“I did go to college.” Octavia took a sip of her beer, and grimaced at the taste. Vinyl chuckled and levitated his beer over to Octavia’s, tapping it.

“Cheers, to our successful move.”

“Cheers.” Octavia took another sip, and seemed to find it more to her taste the second time around. After the toast, they both sat in silence for a minute, taking in the sound of insects chirping outside. Octavia was the first to interrupt the silence.

“So Vinyl, you told me about your mother, but you’ve never said much of your father. I don’t mean to pry; I just assumed there would be a picture of him or something. Where is he now?”

“He bailed on my mother when I was born, so I don’t really know anything about him. Mom never felt like talking about him.”

“Oh.” Octavia took a sip of her beer, then sat fidgeting with the tab as she tried to think of something to say. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah, it’s not really some huge emotional thing. I just don’t have anything to be emotional about. Sometimes I wonder, but after all the crazy sex I’ve seen at my own shows, I’d rather not think about it.”

“I doubt your mother would be the type to conceive you in a bathroom stall.”

"No, of course not. It was probably very normal, loving—actually, can we not talk about my mom and dad doing it?"

"Fair enough."

“And I know your family is more or less a bunch of jerks, right?”

“My mother, yes, but my father still paid for my college even after rejecting me. My mother was enraged, but he said he still wanted me to pursue my dreams.”

“I’m sorry you had to grow up with bad parents.”

“You’re sorry?” Octavia raised an eyebrow.

“I lost my parents. You were rejected by yours.” He took down the rest of his beer. “In a way, I’d say that’s worse.”

“I see your point,” Octavia said with a nod. She tipped back her can and downed the rest of her beer.

“You think my mother would still accept me? After this transition?”

“Of course. You yourself said you loved your mother, and I imagine she loved you in return. Why would she throw that away?”

“You’re right.” Vinyl paused. “I don’t know about my friends, though.”

“We’ll worry about that tomorrow; why don’t we head back to bed?”

“Yeah.”

Both ponies left the kitchen and walked upstairs back into the bedroom. Vinyl tore back the sheets and hopped in, while Octavia slid in gracefully.

“I love you, Vinyl.”

“I love you too.”

The sun shone through the curtains into the bedroom while birds chirped outside. Vinyl woke again to the peaceful Ponyville morning with which he had once been so familiar, and smiled as he let the the chirping of birds and chattering of occasional passers-by draw him the rest of the way out of sleep. It felt like ages since he'd woken up to such a quiet and beautiful morning.

After a few minutes, he couldn't lie still anymore, and turned to look over to Octavia. She was still asleep. Moving over to her side of the bed, he leaned over her and nibbled on her neck. Octavia groaned and opened her eyes.

"Well, you're certainly amorous this morning."

"Ahm ha hampihre," Vinyl said through a mouthful of neck.

Octavia smiled, then looked over at the clock. "It's too early. Sleepy blood's no good for you anyway," she said with a yawn.

"How about a nice hot shower to help wake you up?"

"Mmm... sounds nice, but gimme five more minutes." Octavia rolled over, pulling the covers up over herself.

“Okay.” Vinyl got out of bed and immediately opened the blinds, letting the full morning light into the room.

“Noooo…” Octavia mumbled, trying to cover her eyes with a sheet.

“I’m going to heat up the shower. Not sure how well the water heater works.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be up soon.”

Vinyl walked into the bathroom. Turning on the lights, he stepped into the shower, and turned the water on. It took a minute, but the water heated up soon enough and steam started to fill the room. Octavia trudged in behind him.

“I’m up.”

“Good. Water just heated up.”

Octavia stepped in first and her coat began to get wet, taking in the fresh water for herself. “Is there any soap in here?”

“Nope.”

Vinyl immediately jumped in and held onto Octavia, kissing her from the neck down.

“Vinyl—! Ah!” Octavia squealed. “Don’t make me jump when I’m in the shower,” she groused as Vinyl kept kissing further down. “Ninety percent of accidents happen in—oh. Oh my. Okay, this is a good start to the morning.”

After their morning kickstart, Vinyl and Octavia were in the kitchen. Vinyl stood at the stove, making scrambled eggs while Octavia sat at the kitchen table sipping her coffee.

“Other than what happened late last night, did you sleep okay?”

“Never better.” Vinyl removed the pan from the heat and split the scrambled eggs onto separate plates. “It’s nice waking up to peace and quiet compared to the chaos of Manehattan.”

“I’ve grown used to waking up to street noise every morning. This is a nice change, though.”

“Wait until you meet my friends.” Vinyl placed a plate of scrambled egg in front of Octavia, then sat down at the opposite end of the table with his.

“Are you going to introduce them to me today?” Octavia broke up her eggs with a fork and began eating.

“Yeah.” Vinyl chewed a large mouthful of egg. “At least my friends Pinkie and Rarity. They knew both my mom and I pretty well. I think they will be surprised to see me.”

“I hope they will be all right with the ‘new you’.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. There will be ignorant ponies everywhere, but Rarity and Pinkie are probably the nicest ponies I know here.”

After breakfast, Vinyl and Octavia left the house and walked outside.

“Vinyl, I liked your eggs, but I think I’m still hungry.”

“No worries.” Vinyl pulled out a cigarette and had his first smoke of the morning. “We’re actually headed to a bakery to visit one of my old friends. If she still works there, that is. Her name’s Pinkie Pie.”

“That sounds delightful.”

The two passed by a few ponies along the way, some giving a nod or the occasional "morning" along their walk. Octavia followed Vinyl as they cut through the business district to the main street, where shops and restaurants were thriving. They soon came upon a building that looked for all the world like a gingerbread house, complete with a cookie-tiled roof, candy-cane pillars, and frosting trim.

“This is it—Sugarcube Corner.”

“It looks... nice. Er, do gumdrops and gingerbread meet current fire safety standards?"

"Oh, I'm sure everything's fine." Vinyl grinned, leaning in and bumping noses with Octavia. "All that worrying's gonna give you wrinkles,” he teased in a sing-song. “Just don’t try to eat the place. All that color is actually paint."

As Vinyl and Octavia opened the door and stepped inside, a small bell rang above them. The storefront was empty, with no one in sight.

“Um, hello?” Vinyl said.

“Just a second!” a mare yelled from the back kitchen. “Oh! Jelly belly! Must be someone familiar!”

“What did she say?” Octavia raised her eyebrow.

“Don’t think too much of it,” Vinyl said. “It’s just kinda something she does.” Soon a pink mare with a super curly mane sprang from the kitchen and began circling Vinyl.

“Hmmm…” she said, prodding his side. “You look familiar and I know I’ve seen you before, but something is different.” She placed her hooves and looked deeply into Vinyl’s mane. “Especially with this mane color—very familiar. And very blue.”

“Excuse me, ah, Miss,” Octavia interjected. “I understand that you are excited, but release my fiancé at once. He’s not a toy.”

“He? Oh, it’s even more confusing now! See, you reminded me of someone except she was a filly and you’re not a mare and I’m sorry but you just seem so familiar, but...” she said, starting to sweat.

Vinyl sighed and stepped in.

“Pinkie, it’s me. Vinyl, Claret’s—”

“OH MY GOSH! VINYL!” the pink mare immediately screamed, hugging him tightly and lifting him up.

“Hi, Pinkie,” Vinyl said, with a flush of embarrassment. “You can put me down now.”

“Oh, sorry!” She let go of Vinyl. “You just look so different!”

“Yeah. To make things simple, I am sort of a stallion now.”

“Oohhhhh. I don’t exactly get it, but I’ll pretend to understand.” Pinkie turned to Octavia with a big smile. “And what’s your name?”

“Octavia. Octavia Melody.” Pinkie raised her eyebrow at Octavia’s accent.

“Heh. Always going for the fancy ones, eh Vinyl?” Pinkie nudged his side.

“Uhhh—”

“Vinyl?” a voice called from the back of the kitchen. A moment later, another mare with a crème coat and a multi-colored mane appeared in the doorway, then froze.

“Bon Bon!?” Vinyl yelled, blinking and rubbing his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Wow,” she said, looking at Vinyl. “I couldn’t help but overhear, and I can see why Pinkie was confused.”

“Vinyl, who is this?” Octavia said, staring at Bon Bon.

“Just an old ex of mine, way back from high school.”

“Oh.”

Bon Bon giggled. “I can see you two are doing well.”

“Mostly, yeah. Octavia and I moved here just yesterday, so I’m showing her around.”

“Vinyl, I’m still hungry.” Octavia rubbed her stomach for emphasis.

“Oh yeah. Do you serve anything for breakfast, Pinkie?”

“Yes indeedy! A full load of carbs and sugar is the best way to start your day, I always say!” Pinkie cheered, then giggled. “Oh, that rhymes! Anyway, why don’t we chat for a bit? We don’t get much business until the afternoon.”

“Hey Lyra!” Bon Bon yelled across the store.

“Yeah, baby?” said a mint green mare, popping her head out of the kitchen.

“Can you handle things for a little while I catch up with my old friend?”

“Sure thing!”

“Who was that?” Vinyl asked Bon Bon.

“My wife.”

A few minutes later, the four ponies sat together at a corner table with coffee and bagels. Octavia nibbled and sipped her way through hers while Vinyl caught up with his old friends.

“So where are the Cakes? Took the day off?” Vinyl took a sip from his coffee.

“They retired about three years ago and sold the business to me. Can you believe it? It’s been hard, but we have been doing very well,” Pinkie said cheerily.

“And what about your business, Bon Bon? I thought your family owned a candy shop.”

“Well, we were doing all right, and things were going pretty well for the first few years that I took over, but ponies started to lose interest after Sugarcube Corner started getting big. The year I married my wife, we had to close shop.” She looked over at Pinkie. “Thanks to Pinkie, however, we managed to merge our businesses and are now both a bakery and a sweets shop. Lyra and I have been working here for the past two years and love it here.”

“Glad to hear things are going okay.”

“Well, having to close down wasn’t exactly great, but now that we’re together, we’re an unstoppable team. That feels pretty good. So anyway, what about you? What exactly happened?” Bon Bon asked.

“What do you mean?” Vinyl raised his eyebrow

“Well, you. The entire stallion thing?”

“I’m a stallion.” Vinyl shrugged. “I’m not really sure what there is to explain; I just kinda am.”

“Well, how long has it been going on?”

“I’ve only started with the short hair and such for the past two weeks, if that’s what you mean, but I’ve known for at least a year. It’s always kinda been there at the back of my mind, though. Something never felt right.” Vinyl laughed nervously. “I guess you were right. I’m different.”

Bon Bon smiled, but covered it with a cough. “And how long have you and Octavia been together?”

“Three years,” Octavia said, setting her mug down resting her hooves on the table.

“And you are okay with Vinyl doing this?” Bon Bon asked.

“Yes. I may have proposed to my fiancé when he was a mare, but I like him for who he is.”
Octavia sipped her coffee. “These past two weeks have not been easy, but I will never leave Vinyl. Ever.”

Vinyl kissed Octavia, who blushed and nuzzled his cheek.

“Wow.” Bon Bon took a sip of her coffee. “I feel the same way about Lyra. It’s hard to believe we’ve been married for four years already. Four years and still going strong,” she cooed.

Octavia coughed, fidgeting with her knife and fork. “Anyway, we are getting married once we are settled in. Actually,” Octavia said, a smile slowly spreading across her face, “Vinyl and I were wondering—can we hire you three for catering?”

Bon Bon opened her mouth to reply, but Lyra called for her from the kitchen. “Sure, but Pinkie’s the one to ask.”

“Of course!” Pinkie cried immediately.

“Before that however, I was actually wondering if you could help us, Pinkie.” Vinyl said.

“Anything! Well, almost anything!”

“Since we just moved here, both my fiancée and I are sort of unemployed. I have my own plans, but Octavia’s looking to make a name for herself as a cellist. Do you know of any jobs or gigs in the area that would suit her?”

“Hmm.” Pinkie placed her hoof over her chin. “Lyra plays the lyre during her spare time, and you will find jam sessions at the coffee shop during the evening. That’s about it.”

“Not what I was hoping for.” Vinyl sighed. “Do you know any places where she can play?”

“I know! How about Octavia play here? This part of town is silent and could use some activity! It’s not the biggest money maker, but she can enjoy what she does.”

“You mean be a street performer? Vinyl, that’s what poor ponies do.”

“Aw, come on; it’s not a bad idea. We all need to start somewhere.” Vinyl smiled.

“But I’ve already started. At galas, garden parties and the like. Not on some street corner, like I’m one step away from jingling a tin cup.”

Vinyl shook his head, holding in a laugh. “Things work differently in small towns like this, hon. There aren’t homeless ponies, or any classes to speak of, really.”

“You wouldn’t be playing out on the street, silly,” Pinkie chimed in. “You’d be here. Bon Bon’s actually been trying to give this place a bit more of a cafe vibe, so we were thinking of adding a small stage area near the doors.”

Vinyl nodded. “You’d be an integral part of a successful local business, adding color to everyone’s day. Isn’t that what art’s for?”

Octavia sighed. “I suppose I could give it a try. It’s going to take some time to get used to how different everything is here.” She stood up, stretching out her back and sighing, then turned her focus back to Pinkie. “Would tomorrow be a good time? I’ve hardly found time to practice over the past few weeks, and I fear I’ll get rusty if I delay any longer.”

“Sure! You can play here any time!”

Vinyl and Octavia waved to Pinkie, Bon Bon, and Lyra as they left the bakery.

“I’m glad you got to see your old friends again. And it was nice meeting Pinkie Pie. She seems… lively,” Octavia said, kissing Vinyl.

“That’s one way to put it.” Vinyl giggled. “So, mind telling me what all that tension was about in there?”

Octavia suddenly found a tree they were passing to be extremely fascinating. “Tension? I’ve no idea what you mean.”

“You were jealous in there, weren’t you?” Vinyl poked Octavia’s side and grinned.

“Nonsense. Why should I ever be jealous of an old high school sweetheart… who’s happily married, and living her dream with a little country house and a white picket fence?”

“I wasn’t expecting to see Bon Bon either. But seriously, I thought you might deck her.” He laughed.

“You know I’d never do such a thing unless it became necessary. It’s just… meeting exes is always awkward. I don’t quite know how to handle it.”

“Well, she did break my heart in high school and made me write awful, angsty music.” Vinyl shrugged. “It’s not like you don’t have any exes of your own, right?”

“I do. Ten, actually.”

Vinyl stopped, hooves scuffing the dirt road. “Ten?”

“I believe so.”

“You believe so?”

“Yes. I have excised them from my life with a vengeance, so I may have forgotten some of them.”

“Excised?”

“I don’t break up with anyone to ‘still be friends.’ If they’re out of my life, that’s that.”

“Damn, filly.”

“Do not worry; I have no plans to get rid of you.” Octavia stuck out her tongue. “At least not until I’m famous enough to marry Celestia.”

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

“Possibly.”

Vinyl stared at Octavia blankly, with her returning a smirk. She continued walking, and he had to trot to catch up.

“At any rate, didn’t you say we are going to meet someone else?” Octavia asked.

“Yeah, my friend Rarity.” Vinyl pulled out another cigarette and lit up while they walked past a few businesses.

“The one your mother bought dresses from?”

“Yeah.”

“Bit of an age gap, isn’t it?”

“Oh, she’s not as old as my mother. About halfway between me and her, I think.”

“I suppose the more time you spend together, the less things like age seem to matter.”

As the pair stopped at a tall building, Octavia’s mouth dropped at the size of the shop. Three stories tall, it looked like a cross between a fairground carousel and a small castle keep: octagonal and spotlessly white, with streamers fluttering in the light breeze.

“Wow, I didn’t expect a dress shop to be so… grandiose.”

“She lives here as well. She’ll pull all-nighters sometimes, so it helps having her home and business in the same building.”

“I see.”

Inside, a mare with a snow white coat and an elegantly styled purple mane was adjusting the dresses she had on display.

“Hello and welcome to Carousel Boutique,” she said without even a glance. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Hey, Rarity.” Vinyl said, waving a hoof casually.

“That voice—Vinyl?” Rarity immediately turned around. “Darling, you’ve grown!” She blinked a few times, staring at his hair and manner of dress. “And you look different.”

“Yeah. I guess to keep it simple, I am a stallion now.”

“Oh?” Rarity paused for a moment. “Oh! I understand what you mean.”

“You do?”

“I have clients across Equestria, and that includes all kinds, including one client in town who used to be a stallion. She is a beautiful mare.”

Vinyl nodded.

“And who is this?” Rarity looked at Octavia, taking notice of her formal appearance.

“Octavia Melody.” She lifted her hoof and shook Rarity’s. “I am Vinyl’s fiancée.”

“Fiancée!?” Rarity gasped. “Congratulations then!”

“Thank you,” Octavia said.

“We still need to get settled here in Ponyville. Jobs, getting to know everyone, that stuff. But once we are done with that, we were hoping to celebrate our new lives by getting married. No set date, really, but would you be able to make a dress for Octavia?”

“I’d be proud to make a dress for your beloved, Vinyl. And not to put too fine a point on it, but shall I assume that you would like something other than a dress?”

“Yeah, I was kind of thinking of going with a tux. Do you know where I can get one?”

“My husband can take care of that, actually.”

“Your husband?” Vinyl raised an eyebrow. “I had no idea.”

“We haven’t been in contact for years, darling. How could you have? His name is Braeburn. I met him in a desert town called Appleloosa a few years back. We have known each other for a long while, but more recently one thing lead to another and we have been together for two years now.”

“Well, congrats.”

“Thank you.”

“So are you in the tuxedo business now, too?”

“Oh no; I am too used to making dresses to get into that. Male fashion really isn’t my… ‘thing’, as you say. It’s the waistlines, mostly. However, we do take measurements, send an order to a shop in Canterlot, and they ship it here; it’s a lovely little arrangement that really helps bring in the extra bits.”

“Always a business lady.”

“So, are you looking to place an order today?”

“We’ve still got a few details to hash out before we commit to anything.”

“I’m not a big fan of lace,” Octavia chimed in. “Vinyl likes how I look in it, but I’d rather be comfortable.”

“Soon, though.”

“Of course. Glad to see you are back in town, Vinyl.” As the couple left, Rarity turned and seated herself at her sewing machine, humming to herself as she worked the pedal.

“She seems like a hard-working mare,” Octavia commented as they strolled down the dirt road towards their new home.

“She certainly is,” Vinyl said with a nod. "I honestly don’t know how Rarity was able to start her business here, but somehow she’s ended up becoming a huge success. Even then, she’s always stayed here and never expanded.”

“Maybe the city life wasn’t for her, like you.”

“Probably.”

“I’m glad to see you being so open about your transition here.”

“Mhm. It feels pretty good. Like I can just start again here without worrying too hard about what they’ll think.”

“But it does raise a question in my mind. When are you going to call a doctor here?”

“What?”

“Surely you still want to proceed with the medications et al, like you explained to me when you first came out.”

“Well...” Vinyl bit his lip. “Yes. Of course I do, but, you know, I’m not sure I want to go through that again.”

“I know your appointment with that doctor in Manehattan wasn’t the best, but we’re in Ponyville now. I think we have both agreed on how different this place is, and we’ve had nothing but good experiences with ponies since we arrived.”

“Well, sure my friends are just fine with it, but a doctor’s different. What if he just calls me a freak or something and stops me from ever getting my medications?”

Octavia sighed, stopping and putting a hoof around Vinyl. “Do you honestly think that’s going to happen?”

“No, but—”

“But nothing. Sweetie, I know being able to fully be yourself will help you be happy. Just look how much this little bit has done for you already. Sure, the doctor might be… unhelpful, but unless you try, then you’re guaranteed to not get your medications. You can never win if you don’t try.”

“You’re right.” Vinyl sniffled and wiped his face. “There’s… dust in my eye,” he said when Octavia smiled.

“You need to do this.”

“All right. I’ll make an appointment tonight. Why wait, right?”

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine, Proper Noun and unparchedbutter for helping with this chapter.

Chapter 10 - Reunited

Derpy couldn’t help but tap her hoof nervously as the elevator rose to the twentieth floor of the apartment complex. Her client, Neon Lights, hadn’t shown up for the meeting to decide on the cover for his latest single. Stepping out, she walked straight down the hall to the apartment that Vinyl and Octavia used to occupy.

Raising her hoof, she knocked the door lightly and called out, "Mr. Lights?"

No answer came, so she knocked again.

“I know you are in there. Open up.”

Again, silence. Frustrated, she fumbled with her key ring until she found the right one and unlocked the door.

The apartment was dark—all she could see inside was a sea of trash that seemed to move in the low light. Unwashed dishes piled up in the sink, a decorative wall lamp had been ripped off its mounting and hung by its cord like a gymnast on a trapeze, and plastic food wrappers surrounded the main path like cemetery headstones.

“Lights? Where are you?” she called into the darkness.

“Go away,” a low voice croaked from the bedroom.

Derpy's ears pricked as she walked over and threw open the bedroom door. A stallion with a bluish-gray coat and a grey mane laid on his side in the bed, partially covered by hastily thrown blankets.

“It’s two in the afternoon. We were supposed to meet at Manehattan Records two hours ago. Where were you?”

“Minding my own business. Talking to the suits is your job, isn't it? I thought that's what you manager types were good for.”

“I am, but I also have to make sure you're in a fit state to meet your deadlines.” She looked over at his bedside table, which was covered in empty bottles. “How much did you drink?”

“Not enough, apparently," Neon grumbled, rolling over to face the wall. "Why do you care, anyway?”

“Of course I care! I'm your manager. What if there was an emergency press conference today? Do you even think about things like that?”

"Mrm. Not my problem." Neon groaned as he reached for the one bottle that wasn't quite empty yet.

Derpy seized it and shook her head.

"No."

"But my head hurts. Ever heard of hair of the dog?"

"Yes, but you've drunk enough. I can smell you from here."

“Figures." Neon's hoof limply fell to his side. "I remember when all I had to do was make music by the deadlines. My last manager didn’t give a shit how I spent my free time.”

“Drinking and sleeping with random mares every night isn’t the healthiest way to spend your free time.”

“Just make the deals you've gotta make, help me sell my records, and stay out of my personal business," Neon grumbled. "But if you really want to be helpful, you could get me an aspirin."

"You brought this on yourself, so you can get your own aspirin. I'm your manager, not your mother."

"You can say that again," Neon said with a laugh, trying to sit up in bed and flopping back down. "Probably for the best, though; you'd make a terrible mother."

Derpy recoiled as if she’d been slapped, regaining her composure as quickly as she could and frowning. "I am a mother, you know."

"Yeah, I know. It hurts, doesn't it? That's how I feel right now, so feel free to stop lecturing me and get me a damn aspirin."

"No." Derpy turned her back on Neon. "I'm going to let this go because you've been drinking, but there won't be a second time. If Vinyl ever spoke to me the way you just did, she'd be out on her ass."

One of Neon's empty bottles exploded against the wall, inches from Derpy's head. "Vinyl Vinyl Vinyl!"

“Are you crazy?!" Derpy yelled as she whipped around to face Neon, but he continued as though he hadn’t heard her.

"You don't think I know that I'm just a replacement? That my childhood dreams only came true because some bitch cracked under the pressure and ran off?” He was ranting now, thrashing weakly, still half-buried under the covers. “Why do you think I'm on Vinyl's old label in Vinyl's old apartment with Vinyl's old manager?!"

"What, do you want sympathy now too? You just threw a bottle at my head!" Derpy took a step toward Neon and he shrank back, scrambling for another bottle.

"I have more! Stay back!"

Derpy took another step forward.

"Why do you hafta be such a bitch, huh? All I wanted was an aspirin! Or can't you do just one nice thing for me?"

"I am being nice. You just assaulted your manager. I should call the police. I should have you thrown out of here so fast it'll make your head spin. But instead, I'm going to give you one chance to say you're sorry, clean up this mess, and never let me catch you jeopardizing both of our careers again. Are we clear?"

"But—"

"Are. We. Clear?" Derpy stared at him, eye-to-eye.

Neon bit his tongue. Red-faced and breathing heavily, he seemed as though something inside him were boiling. "N-no! You can't control me like that! No wonder Vinyl left you! I'd leave too if I were stuck with such an uptight, bitchy, cross-eyed retard!"

“Retard! Retard! Cross-eyed retard!” The laughter of the other foals echoed across the playground as they circled Derpy, who lay huddled underneath the jungle gym. “Whatcha gonna do, retard? You gonna cry, retard? Come on, cry. Cry for your mommy, retard. Come on. Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna—”

Whump.

Suddenly, Derpy's hoof felt warm and wet, and it took several seconds for her to register that she had driven it into Neon's face. He lay on the bed, sobbing in the fetal position as a bruise formed around his eye.

"You hit me!" he squealed. "You hit me! I'll—I'll get you! I'll get you fired!"

"Go ahead. You go tell them how I hit you and then you can have fun explaining why I've got pieces of glass stuck in my mane." And my ear, Derpy realized suddenly, only noticing the cool trickle of blood as the adrenaline surge subsided.

"And besides..." Derpy turned and walked out of Neon's bedroom. "I quit."

Six months had passed since Vinyl and Octavia moved away from Manehattan and settled into Ponyville. While they were not living a life of luxury, the two ponies found life in the small town to be much more comfortable than in Manehattan.

Vinyl had continued relearning piano, while Octavia had spent her spare time playing in front of Sugarcube Corner, making a small, but adequate wage from tips.

Outside, the temperature was dropping. Snowflakes danced through the air and settled on the rooftops, making Ponyville look as though it had an ever-worsening case of dandruff. Octavia was engrossed in a saucy romance novel while Vinyl improvised a slow, calming piece on the piano. A few logs crackled in the fireplace, their warmth making the winter outside easy to ignore.

Two sharp knocks on the door jerked Vinyl out of his reverie.

“Who is that?” Octavia asked, lowering her book.

“I dunno. I’ll get it.” Vinyl got up and unlocked the door, slowly pushing it open.

Derpy was standing on the stoop in front of him, with Dinky hiding beneath her for warmth. Both were wearing coats and scarves to keep themselves warm from the winter weather.

“Oh,” Vinyl said to no one in particular, shuffling his hooves.

The two stood there for what seemed like hours, saying nothing. What was there to say?

As Derpy looked at Vinyl, she started to notice small changes from when she’d last seen him. He was still short and scrawny, naturally, but there was a firmness to his body that wasn’t there before. He’d kept that ridiculous mane and tail cut, but it seemed to suit him better than it did the first time she’d seen it.

The biggest shock, however, was his voice. He’d deepened his voice before, but it had always been clear that he was faking it; now, he spoke naturally in high baritone. He didn’t have a deep, macho tone, but it was definitely a stallion’s voice.

“Hey,” Vinyl said, breaking the silence.

“You look... different,” Derpy said quietly, not meeting Vinyl’s gaze.

“Do I?” Vinyl looked himself over. “I guess I haven’t really noticed. Transitioning has been… gradual, I guess.”

“Mommy, I can barely feel my hooves,” Dinky whimpered.

“Oh. Come in,” Vinyl said. “It’s, uh, not going to get warmer anytime soon,” he added, forcing a polite grin and opening up the door to let the two in.

“Vinyl, who is—” Octavia gasped as she recognized the pair. “Derpy? Dinky? What are you doing here?”

“Octavia!” Dinky yelled, jumping out of her coat and hugging Octavia.

“Way to make me feel left out, kid.” Vinyl closed the door behind them.

“You get a turn soon!” Dinky said, keeping herself wrapped around Octavia.

Derpy chuckled, hanging their coats and scarves on the nearest coat rack.

“So… we have a lot of catching up to do.” Vinyl looked between Derpy and Dinky. “But first, who’d like something to drink?”

“I want hot chocolate!” Dinky yelled, letting go of Octavia.

Derpy looked at her daughter and nodded. “I’ll just have a coffee,” she said, smiling shyly.

“I’ll have one too,” Octavia said.

“All right. Make yourself at home.” With that, Vinyl went over to the kitchen and filled a kettle with water and placed it on the stove, wanting to get the drinks prepared.

Why is she back now? Vinyl thought as he waited for the water to boil. And without warning me at all? Did something happen?

In the living room, Dinky sat on a chair, bouncing as she told Octavia about the trip to Ponyville while Derpy walked around the living room.

“I haven’t been here in a long time, but it looks like you two have been keeping this place well maintained. It’s funny how so many things stay the same, regardless of how everything else has changed.”

She immediately noticed the mess of papers and other materials scattered around and atop the piano. What really drew her attention, however, was a framed photo of Claret sitting at the front of the open piano “Well, mostly. Is Vinyl… playing piano again?”

“He’s picked it back up quite well, ever since…” Octavia paused, staring at the photo of Claret.

“He told you about Claret?”

“Yeah.”

“She was a great mare, probably the closest thing to a mother I had.” Derpy smiled, cradling the photo. Despite the smile, Octavia could hear the sadness in her voice.

“So, are you still playing?” Derpy said, placing the framed photo back on the piano.

“Oh, yes. I have been playing at Sugarcube Corner for some time now. It’s not the Canterlot Royal Symphony, but I enjoy it. At first I was skeptical, but ponies have been showing up pretty regularly and they keep coming back. At the end of the day, I make a good chunk of money from tips while the business itself gets more customers.”

“That’s great to hear.”

“Sorry for the wait,” Vinyl said, walking into the living room holding four cups in his magical aura.

“Thanks,” Derpy said, grabbing it with her hoof. Vinyl lowered Octavia’s cup to her and she accepted it gingerly.

“Thank you.” She blew across the rim of the cup to cool it down.

“Yay!” Dinky grabbed her cup of hot chocolate and took a sip, immediately wincing and spitting it back into the cup. “Hot!”

“I didn’t think I would have to tell you it was hot,” Vinyl chuckled, sitting on the sofa next to Octavia.

“I’ll sue!” Dinky yelled.

Derpy sat next to Dinky, stroking her daughter’s mane to calm her while trying to think of something to say.

“So... you are probably wondering why we are here.” Derpy said.

“Vacation?” Vinyl shrugged, sipping his coffee.

“Actually, I quit my job just two weeks ago.”

“Oh.”

“I thought Neon Lights would have helped keep my career alive, but— if anything— I think the company assigned him to me because they wanted me to quit.”

“What was so bad about him?”

“Well, he made music, but whenever he wasn’t, he was drinking and having sex with who knows how many mares. I’m not against having a good time, but his habits were interfering with his duties. He didn’t have much respect for me either.”

“What made you quit?”

“He missed a meeting, I found him hungover at his apartment, and when I confronted him, he threw a bottle at me and…”

Derpy stopped, shifting in her seat.

“And what?” Vinyl asked, leaning forward in his.

“He called me a retard.”

“Oh wow. I’m sorry, Derpy.” Vinyl scratched the back of his head. “After that one time in school, I thought that was behind us.”

“Am I missing something?” Octavia asked, stepping into the conversation.

“Derpy was bullied a lot for her eyes throughout her youth. The other foals called her retarded because of them, and I sometimes had to back her up.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine,” Derpy said, taking a sip of her tea. “At the very least, I managed to hit him pretty good before I said I quit.”

“Heh, nice.” Vinyl grinned.

“Not really. Sure, it felt great, but now I am out of work and I lost all my benefits.”

“So that’s why you are here now?”

Derpy nodded her head.

“I’m sorry,” Vinyl said.

“For what?”

“For quitting right there on the spot. That was foolish of me.”

“It’s fine.” Derpy took a sip of her coffee. “I am sorry for telling them everything about you. It was a part of my job, but, at the same time, I almost ruined our friendship.”

They all sat in silence for a moment.

“Do you have anywhere to stay?”

“No.”

“You and Dinky can stay here then,” Octavia chimed in. “We only have one extra bed, but you can stay here until you find a place to live.”

“Thanks, Octavia. I’ve actually found a place, but it turns out it doesn’t open up until tomorrow. I didn’t really want to ask, but...”

Vinyl shook his head. “It’s fine, really. It gives us an excuse to make use of my old room. Besides, what am I gonna do, tell Dinky to sleep in the snow?”

Derpy threw her arms around Vinyl. “Thank you, Vinyl. This really means a lot.”

“No prob.” Vinyl waved it off with a slight smile. “But if you’re moving down here, I’d assume you already have another job lined up, right?”

“Well…”

“You don’t?”

“I have enough saved up to get by for quite a while. I have time to find something that matches my skillset and interests.”

Vinyl cleared his throat, looking at Octavia and then back at Derpy. “Well, if you aren’t doing anything yet… I’ve actually been looking over mom’s past compositions, doing a little tweaking here and there. I think the label she worked for could be interested in it. I just need someone with some good business skills to make a deal with them.”

Derpy blinked. “So, after losing both of our jobs and moving to another city where we’re far away from the music industry’s infrastructure and where we have little to no influence, you want me to manage you as a musician?”

“I’m not hearing a no~” Vinyl said, waggling his eyebrows.

Derpy sighed, letting out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “You know what? Why not?”

The rest of the evening passed in relative silence. Dinky had plenty of energy, of course, but she soon wore herself out running around and talking about things that were only important to her, and collapsed on the sofa. Derpy talked over some more details with Vinyl, then went upstairs to sleep in Vinyl’s old bedroom, while Vinyl and Octavia retreated to the master bedroom.

“Hey, Tavi.”

“Yeah?”

“Have I changed? I think both of them were looking at me differently.”

“Physically? Yes. Personality wise? Not a bit.” She kissed him on the lips.

Vinyl returned a smile and laid his head on the pillow.

“I still feel Derpy may hate me for what I did earlier.”

“I don’t think so. There may be some tension, but I think she is stressed from losing everything like we did.” Octavia turned off the lamp and laid down next to Vinyl. “We can talk about all of this tomorrow. Let’s just be happy she and Dinky are here and safe.”

“Yeah. Night, Octavia.”

“Goodnight, Vinyl.”

Derpy woke up late in the morning, still tired from traveling. She slowly sat up and walked down the stairs, not minding her bedmane and rubbing her eyes to clear her vision. Walking into the kitchen, she found everyone else sitting at the table and eating breakfast.

“Morning ma!” Dinky smiled.

“Hey sweetie. What time is it?” Derpy asked as she sat down at the table.

“Almost eleven,” Vinyl said, drinking from his mug of coffee.

“Wow, I haven’t gotten that much rest in a while.”

“One of the unemployment’s many benefits. It’s not so bad, y’know. Aside from the whole having no money thing.” Vinyl rose from his chair and got a cup of coffee for Derpy, passing it to her.

“It’s nice." Derpy sipped her coffee. "So, Vinyl... Not to be rude, but how did you change so fast?"

"What?"

"Well, your body structure and voice. You just look and sound so different compared to months ago."

"Oh, the doctor here in town made me sign a waiver and I got on the drugs I wanted to get on for months. It's coming close to six months now. At my last checkup, they actually increased my dosage."

"Well, you look handsome. I'm jealous, Octavia."

"Don't get any ideas." Octavia snickered.

"Mom, where am I going to school?" Dinky asked.

"Probably where I went, Dinky,” Vinyl said. “The school here isn't that bad. Better than the public schools in Manehattan, at least."

“Dinky and I are looking to check out my place later this afternoon. Do you want to come with, Vinyl?”

“Sure.”

A few days had passed since Derpy and Dinky moved into Ponyville. With Vinyl’s help, they managed to move their belongings into a house in a neighborhood that was close to Vinyl and Octavia. Aside from a few differences here and there, the layout of this home was similar to Vinyl and Octavia’s house.

Inside, Vinyl carried a mattress with his magic, surrounding the object with his magical aura. He stood at the top of the stairs, pulling it up behind him while Derpy pushed from below.

“I didn’t think they could put this much stuff on a carriage,” Vinyl said while the two placed the mattress in a bed frame.

“Well, I wasn’t lucky enough to have a home already full of furniture when moving.” Derpy sat down and took a breather.

“You didn’t spend two days dusting an entire home either.” Vinyl fell onto the mattress, exhausted from using his magic.

“Touche.” Derpy shrugged and sat at the end of the bed.

From downstairs, Vinyl heard the sound of the front door being unlocked and opened. “Hello!” Octavia yelled as she closed the door behind her.

“Up here, Octavia,” Derpy called. She grabbed the bottle of water she kept at her side and took a swig from it.

“Hey, can I have some of that?” Vinyl asked.

“I’ve got more bottles downstairs.”

Octavia poked her head around the hallway and walked into the bedroom.

“Hello.” Octavia waved.

“Something up?” Vinyl said.

“I got a call from Fancy Pants.”

“That name sounds familiar.” Derpy scratched her chin.

“He is the owner of the Canterlot Royal Symphony Hall.”

“Oh! Yes! I remember him! I had a small chat with him before a few months back before Vinyl’s performance. He said he was interested in the ponies it would bring to his theater for the first time.”

“Interesting. So, what did he call about?” Vinyl asked.

“He said he will be here in town tomorrow. He will be visiting us tomorrow afternoon.”

“What for?”

“Something grand, he said.”

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine, Bad_Seed_72, and Purple Pegasus for helping with this chapter.

Chapter 11 - Preparation

Alone, Octavia walked through a crowd of ponies filling the streets of Manehattan. She was in the wealthiest, most charmingly decorated district, passing by designer clothing shops and jewelry stores, but the buildings seemed to loom ominously overhead in their sheer height. Being out by herself again felt stranger than she’d imagined it would. The side streets looked like alleyways, and all were crowded with strangers. Octavia checked her watch as she neared the restaurant. Late. Damn.

A familiar mare sat alone at a table in the patio area, her nose deep in a menu, a hoof tapping rhythmically against the pavement. Octavia walked to the table where the mare sat.

“Hello, Mother.”

“About time you made it here. I went to the trouble of reserving a table, which they did not have prepared on time. How is it that I was still able to spend ten minutes memorizing the menu before my daughter shows up?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t come to this area often.” Octavia sat down across from her mother and grabbed a menu, looking at the array of expensive food items.

“Well, it’s been some years since your father and I last saw you. Have you been reading my letters? You haven’t been writing back recently.” Majesty finally looked up from her menu.

“I’ve been busy. That’s all.” Octavia quickly placed her menu down, focusing her attention on the ponies and traffic passing by rather than her mother.

“Did you know that you always look to the left when you’re being evasive? At any rate, I know all about what’s been keeping you busy: playing temporary positions for any group in Manehattan. Your father and I were hoping the money we put into that college education of yours would go into something worthwhile.”

“Well, not everyone can attain their dreams so easily.” Octavia placed her hoof over her chin, still looking away from her mother.

A waitress then walked over to the table. “Hello! Welcome—” she began, but was cut off by Majesty.

“I’ve been waiting nearly fifteen minutes. Is today particularly busy or does it simply take you that long to notice customers?”

“I’m sorry, but, well, a raised menu usually means you’re still deciding and I didn’t want to be a bother—”

“I don’t want to hear any excuses.”

“Of course, madam. Um, well, we have a special—“

“I’ll start with the mushroom appetizer, then I will have the chef’s deluxe hay salad with wine.”

“Okay.” The waitress looked at Octavia as Octavia focused her attention on her. “For you, ma’am?”

“I’ll just have a hayburger, side salad, and a glass of water.”

The waitress nodded and quickly walked away.

“A hayburger? We have a table at one of the best restaurants in Manehattan and you order junk food?”

“I’ve acquired a taste for them lately,” Octavia said dismissively. Mostly because of Vinyl, she nearly added, but caught herself. Over thirty-three years of dealing with her mother, Octavia had learned that she would need to build up to anything important.

Her mother gave a hmph and decided to find something else to talk about.

“Well, you can’t have asked me to see you so suddenly without a good reason, and I’m certain it wasn’t to discuss your performances. Has anything else happened in your life recently?”

“Just one thing. It’s serious, and I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Well, what is it?”

“I have been dating this mare for the past two years. I may have mentioned her in my letters.”

“Is it that DJ you mentioned once? I told you she seemed like trouble.”

“Mother, please.” Octavia groaned, resting her elbows on the table and rubbing her temples. “I didn’t come here to have my whole life criticized; I came because this is important.”

“Sorry, Octavia. It’s simply a mother’s instinct. You know I’m only looking out for what’s best for you.” Majesty nodded. “Go on. What about your… DJ?”

“I really wish that you could meet her, mother. She’s absolutely wonderful. In fact…” Octavia took a deep breath. “So much so that, recently, I proposed to her. She said yes! When she gets back from her tour, we’re getting married!”

Octavia couldn’t keep from grinning, though she was alone in doing so. Majesty sat there, just staring, as though she were confused.

“You could have called. It would have saved you the trouble of setting all this up. You already know our feelings about that.”

“I know that I can’t expect you to be excited about me marrying a mare, but this is really important to me, mother. I’m not asking you to come to something trivial. Fate willing, this is the only chance you’ll have to see your daughter get married. Don’t tell me you haven’t dreamed about it before.”

Majesty, who had been grinding her teeth, finally snapped. “Of course I have! But it seems that my little princess won’t be marrying Prince Charming after all. She’d rather throw herself at some nightclub floozie! So sorry if I’m less than pleased by this news.”

“... I just want you and dad to be there.” Octavia said quietly.

“I’ve said all I have to say on the subject, Octavia. If this is what you want to do with your life, you’ll have to do it on your own.”

Majesty looked at Octavia sadly, then got up from her chair. “I suppose we’ll have to have lunch together at another time. I don’t wish to become… unpleasant.” With that, she turned and left.

“All right…” Octavia said to no one in particular, numbness overtaking her as she watched her mother disappear into the crowd. She wanted to run after her, to beg and plead for her to reconsider, but she knew nothing would come of it.

It was afternoon in Ponyville. Octavia and Vinyl were at home, sitting in the living room.

“I’m happy we got Derpy and Dinky moved into their own place yesterday. They’re great, but this house was getting a bit too tight with all four of us,” Vinyl said.

“It was nice to have company, though,” Octavia replied.

“Speaking of company, what’s up with this Fancy Pants guy? He hears you play a performance or two and all the sudden you’re best buddies and he wants to come visit?”

“He’s… a bit odd, I’ll admit, but he’s been very kind. Besides, he’s coming here to discuss a job.”

“Well, I would still be on the fence. You know how these music business types are.”

“What, like Derpy?” Octavia asked, feigning innocence.

Vinyl opened his mouth, but couldn’t find anything to say. The doorbell rang.

“Just give him a chance, hon,” Octavia said over her shoulder as she went to answer the door. “At worst, I don’t like his deal, and we’re back where we were a few days ago.”

Taking a deep breath, she opened it to see Fancy Pants. He wore his regular suit jacket and light-purple bowtie, a thick manila envelope tucked in one of his forelegs.

“Octavia! Thank you for allowing me to visit on such short notice.”

“It’s nothing. My fiancé and I have kept fairly free schedules ever since the move. We were just talking about your visit, actually.”

“Oh, is he here?” Fancy Pants asked.

Vinyl got up from the sofa and approached the two of them, extending his hoof to Fancy Pants. Fancy took his hoof and shook it.

“Vinyl Scratch.”

“Fancy Pants, your fiancée has said a lot about you.” Fancy Pants let his hoof go and looked at Vinyl. “Not to be rude, but have I seen you before?”

“Probably,” Vinyl said with a shrug. “I might have looked a bit different, but DJ-PON3 was pretty recognizable. Oh, can I get you something while you talk things out with Octavia?”

“No, but thank you. I just got off the train and came here straight away.”

“Well, let’s have a seat,” Octavia said, motioning them into the living room and gesturing at the couch.

Fancy bowed slightly. “Of course.”

All three of them sat in the living room, Octavia and Vinyl sitting next to each other with Fancy across from them.

“So, you are probably wondering why I wanted to see you, Octavia.”

She nodded. “Something about work, I would assume. Other than that, I’ve no idea.”

“As you two know, I am the owner of the Canterlot Royal Symphony—or, rather, the Symphony Hall. While I do appreciate the symphony and its talent, I always felt there is something missing. There are plenty of famous players, to be sure, but are they the best players? I’m not so sure they are. Therefore, I am starting a group of my own. One Equestria has never experienced.”

“How so?” Octavia raised an eyebrow.

“My plan is recruiting raw talent wherever I happen to find it, to discover and mold the best musicians across Equestria and perform all across the globe. And I’d love nothing more than for you to be a part of it, Octavia.”

Vinyl snorted, tapping his hoof impatiently. Something wasn’t quite right about what Fancy Pants was saying, but what? Everything sounded true enough on its own, but as a whole… it was too good to be true. There had to be a catch.

“Me? Of all the other cellists out there?”

“To be sure, there are a lot of ponies like you, Octavia. They go to a Conservatory. However, unless they make it to the top of their class, they tend not to find any positions in a music group. I want to grab those that truly play music for themselves and have a way to express it. You are one of them.”

“Okay, okay. So what does she need to do?” Vinyl asked.

Fancy Pants took a moment to reply after being interrupted, but simply smiled at Vinyl, saying, “Right now, I am looking for members to sign on. Once we have enough musicians, we plan on practicing in Canterlot. No moving necessary. I will have enough funds for transport and hotel.”

Fancy Pants set the envelope on the coffee table, pulling out a thick stack of papers and setting them in front of Octavia.

“Take your time reading over the details and decide whether you want to sign on. Just send them back to the enclosed address.”

“Thank you. I wasn’t expecting such an opportunity.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Fancy Pants took a look at his watch. “Excuse me, but I need to go.”

After seeing Fancy Pants, Vinyl and Octavia heard another knock at the door. Vinyl got up and opened the door. Derpy and Dinky waved. He took a step back and let them in.

“So? How did it go?” Derpy asked.

“He is offering Octavia a full-time position as a cellist in some grand orchestra made of musicians across Equestria,” Vinyl said.

“Wow, that’s quite something!”

“I still need to read over the contract, but I think I will sign on.” Octavia said.

“Can I see it?” Derpy asked.

Octavia nodded, handing over the contract to Derpy. Derpy pulled out a pair of reading glasses and began looking it over.

“You use glasses now?” Vinyl asked.

“I found it helps when reading.” Derpy quickly read over the details of the contract. She took a few minutes before handing it back to Octavia.

“Anything fishy?” Vinyl asked.

“The language is much simpler than the contracts I negotiated at Manehattan Records for you. Clearer, more direct. I still advise reading it over for yourselves, but I see no danger in signing it.”

“Thanks,” Octavia said, placing the envelope back on the table.

“Mommy and I finished moving in this morning!” Dinky chimed in.

“Good to hear. Before you two got here, Octavia and I were planning for our wedding,” Vinyl said.

“You two are still not married? It’s been half a year,” Derpy said.

“We still need a wedding planner, and I had you in mind,” Vinyl said.

“I should have known...” Derpy shook her head, then brushed her hair out of her face and pulled out a notepad and pen.

“We need a venue, somewhere outside that is nice. We also need chairs, tables, dishware, flowers, the usual wedding stuff,” Vinyl said.

“Got you covered. If they are still around, I know some old friends that can easily hook us up with something in a short amount of time. What are you two doing?” Derpy asked.

“I thought we go to Rarity’s first to get measured and order a dress and tux. Then we are going to Sugarcube Corner for the cake and catering,” Vinyl said.

“All right, might as well get started now. Let’s go, dear,” Derpy said, looking down at Dinky. With that, the two left the home.

Vinyl and Octavia walked down Ponyville’s business district, passing by a few shops on their way to Sugarcube Corner.

“What did you think of Fancy Pants?” Octavia asked.

“He certainly seems…” Vinyl smirked. “Fancy.”

“Oh, ha ha. Seriously, though, you haven’t said a word since we left. What’s on your mind?” Octavia asked, leaning a bit on Vinyl.

“Eh, it’s not a big deal. He seems nice and all.”

“But?”

“They all seemed nice at first.”

Octavia stopped, putting her foreleg around Vinyl’s waist. “I think he may be better than that at the very least.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Arriving at Sugarcube Corner, Vinyl and Octavia walked inside and saw Pinkie at the register waving at them.

“Hi again!” Pinkie yelled. “The usual? Two coffees and two bagels?”

“Actually, I think we are ready to finalize the catering and cake and get a date set.” Vinyl smiled.

“Oh, how exciting!” Pinkie clapped her hooves together. “Let me grab our catalogue. Actually...” Pinkie took a deep breath and squealed, then coughed and calmed back down. “Okay, I’m getting it now.”

Walking over to a shelf behind the register, she scanned a bookshelf, then withdrew a hardback book and handed it to Vinyl and Octavia. Octavia grabbed the book and opened it to find colorful pictures and detailed descriptions for individual packages.

“When is the wedding, and how many will be attending?” Pinkie asked.

“A month from now, and it isn’t going to have a huge attendance. I figure no more than…” Vinyl looked up at the ceiling, counting in his head. “Twenty, including Octavia and I.”

“Only eighteen? Why so few?”

“We just prefer a small wedding,” Vinyl said.

“Aww! Well, since you won’t have that many ponies there, I think our Small Premium Package should do the trick!”

“What page is that?” Octavia asked.

“Page seven.”

Octavia turned the book back a few pages and read the description.

“What does it have?” Vinyl asked.

“A bit of everything. Fruit and vegetable trays, baked goods, sweets, wine, and a medium-sized cake.” Octavia passed the book to Vinyl. He skipped the fancy pictures and detailed descriptions, looking for the price.

“1200 bits? Quite a lot for food.”

Pinkie chimed in, “Yeah, it is, but it includes all the items, preparation, delivery, setup, and a custom wedding cake. Wedding cakes on average go for around five hundred bits by themselves, so this is actually a super-duper bargain!”

Vinyl rubbed his chin. “What do you think, Tavi?”

“We’ll take it,” she said with a smile, fishing through her purse for her wallet.

Vinyl’s face fell. “Wha? But—”

“I want this to be our best day ever, Vinyl. We should invest in it,” Octavia said, cutting off Vinyl.

After a moment, Vinyl scoffed. “Oh, fine. The dress and tuxedo we requested a month ago from Rarity is already going to blow our wedding budget anyways.”

“We’ll worry about the long-term expenses after we get married.” Octavia smiled.

Vinyl didn’t want to blow a good chunk of his savings on the wedding, but seeing Octavia smile, he couldn’t be angry, and smiled back. He then pressed his lips to hers, a hoof caressing her cheek as he felt her kissing him back. He paused when he felt her tongue slip across his lips, quickly looking at Pinkie, who just waved, then shrugged and let it in.

“Oooh, you two already look like a married couple!” Pinkie smiled.

After their trip to Sugarcube Corner, Vinyl and Octavia headed straight to Carousel Boutique. Walking inside, they found a stallion seated at the register reading a copy of Rogue magazine. He had a well-groomed yellow coat and mane and wore earrings in both of his ears, showing a small bit of his feminine side.

“Howdy. Good to see y’all again!” he said, looking up from his magazine.

“Hey, Braeburn. Is Rarity busy?” Vinyl asked.

“Eh, right now, she’s working on somethin’ for some celebrity—”

“Aw cool. Who?” Vinyl asked with a nod.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Braeburn said, leaning in with a wink. “But seriously, it’s this whole client confidentiality thing. I ain’t supposed to talk about it, but I can help y’all out. Is this about the weddin’ order?”

“Yeah. We’ve actually set a date for next month and we just wanted to let you know so everything stays on track.”

“Ah. Well, that shouldn’t be a problem. We already finished the dress you requested a week back and the tux just came in from Canterlot. If y’all want, you can try them on and see if they fit.”

“Eh, that’s okay. I’m good,” Vinyl said, shrugging.

Braeburn laughed. “Actually, I was just bein’ polite. You have to have them test-fitted so they don’t look like shit when you put them on to get married, and Rarity would kill me if I missed an opportunity to get it done like this one. So, yeah. Basically, y’all ain’t leavin’ until we get this done.”

“I hate trying on clothes…” Vinyl grumbled. “And I’m pretty sure that’s not legal, but fine.”

“Alrighty, this way, please,” Braeburn said cheerfully, prancing to a platform at one end of the room and going through a rack of dresses.

“Okay, Miss Melody, stand on the platform over there while I get your dress.”

Octavia stepped onto the platform and stood in the center. Braeburn dug through the clothing rack, retrieving a light-purple dress and taking it out of the protective plastic before handing it to Octavia.

“What do you think? Rarity spent at least a week on it.”

“It’s beautiful.” Her eyes glowed as Braeburn passed it to her. Holding it up, she took in the color, which had a bit of a shine, while the fabric felt smooth, clean, and comfortable.

“It’s going to look even better on you.” Vinyl smiled, sitting on a chair next to the platform.

Braeburn nodded. “Well, try it on, and I will make sure everything measures correctly.”

Octavia then began putting the dress on. She did not have a hard time getting it on, but had a hard time zipping up the back.

“Let me help you with that,” Braeburn said, zipping up the back. “How does it feel?”

Octavia turned around and looked at herself in a nearby mirror. She spun around a few times, wanting to see herself from each angle. Unlike conventional wedding dresses, this one remained short, ending halfway at her rear legs. “It feels perfect.”

“Trust me, you look better than it feels,” Vinyl said, smiling.

“Good to hear, dear!” Braeburn looked over at Vinyl. “Let’s try your tuxedo, Vinyl.”

Braeburn walked over to a back room and came back out with a white box, opening it to reveal a custom black tuxedo. Passing the opened box to Vinyl, Vinyl withdrew the undershirt and put that on first, then the jacket to his tuxedo. Braeburn did a few adjustments with the sleeves and back.

“How does it feel?” Braeburn asked.

“It feels...” Vinyl paused, thinking of his feelings when putting on the jacket. When he used to put on dresses, he never felt like himself. With his tuxedo, all that came to mind was, “Right. It feels right.”

“You look great, Vinyl,” Octavia said, still standing on the platform in her dress.

“I take it both of y’all like them?”

“I think so.”

Returning home, Octavia remained downstairs while Vinyl walked upstairs and placed the clothing garments in the closet. Walking back downstairs, he saw Octavia at the kitchen table, preparing personal invitations to the wedding.

Walking over to the kitchen table, Vinyl saw the small list of who was invited.

“So, you’re not inviting your family?” he asked, cocking his head to one side.

“Of course not.” Octavia huffed, her expression wilting. She dropped the invitation she was examining and turned to face Vinyl. “My mother doesn’t accept me at all, and I don’t even know what my father thinks about all this because he hasn’t had an opinion of his own in twenty years. So no, I’m not terribly keen on inviting them.”

“Okay, okay. All I did was ask a question.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just… that particular question has been weighing heavily on me today. It’s an extremely important day for me and by all rights they should care. Whether or not they like it, they should at least care! But they… don’t, and I just can’t understand it.”

“I think you should invite them, then.”

“Why?”

“Because they rejected you.” Vinyl wrapped his foreleg around her shoulder, leaning in and kissing her temple. “And that’s the dumbest thing they could ever do to a daughter as wonderful as you,” he half-whispered into her ear. “We still have to give them chances to do right. You only get one mom and dad, after all.”

“My mother has made her position on the matter… very clear.” Octavia paused, thinking back to that day at the cafe. “My father, however… I think he still loves me, somewhere deep down. He did pay for my college to help me get to my dreams, not that mother ever let me forget it.”

“And with that offer from Fancy Pants, wouldn’t you want to tell him that your dreams really are coming true? Maybe just write a letter to him and invite them to the wedding.”

“Yes, I suppose. I’d like to think that it would make him happy, but I don’t know anymore. I never see nor hear from him anyway. What good would it do?”

“What harm would it do?”

Octavia chewed her lower lip in thought. “Fair point. All right.”

Octavia grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and began writing.

Dear Father,

I haven’t written to you in a while. I wanted to talk to you a few months ago, but Mother kept insisting you were busy with the company and I could only meet with her. It seems that even after college, she has not changed much.

I am sure she has already told you, but I recently proposed to my girlfriend. Or, rather, he used to be my girlfriend. My fiancé, Vinyl, is a stallion, and though I’m sure Mother will say a stallion who used to be a mare doesn’t count, I’m fully aware of the irony of our perfectly heterosexual wedding. I think that you would really like him if you met him, Father. At times, he can be quite silly, but it’s part of what makes him charming. He can be serious as well, like you.

I already know how Mother feels about me, but I was hoping you would want to attend my wedding. I know you still care about me and want to see me happy. This day will be the best in my life, and I wish for you to see it.

I hope we can see each other soon, and you can meet my future husband.

Your daughter, Octavia.

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine and Bad_Seed_72 and for helping with this chapter.

Chapter 1 - Dysphoria

Canterlot, Equestria’s mountainside capital famed for its wealth and royalty always managed to look dazzling no matter the time of day. Night had fallen, and the city section boomed with activity. Magic-infused balls of light illuminated the bustling streets, making the whole alabaster city twinkle: its fancy restaurants and cafes serving the highest quality dishes, art galleries displaying works of art from highly-rated artists all over Equestria, and the Canterlot Royal Symphony Hall, well-reputed for its highly praised orchestral and opera performances. That night, however, the crowds weren’t Canterlot’s usual refined gentlecolts and ladies as ponies from all over Equestria gathered for a more mainstream musical performance. Street teams of fans had hastily plastered posters all across Canterlot advertising the event in big, bold letters:

DJ PON-3, LIVE FROM CANTERLOT ROYAL SYMPHONY HALL

At the front of the concert hall, slightly muffled bass notes leaked out of the entrance, making the sidewalk hum with their energy. Crowds of ponies began to gather in front, excited to see one of the biggest shows of the summer: DJ PON-3 herself, live.

Behind the curtains, the stage crew was putting the finishing touches on the equipment layout and stage decor. A white unicorn mare with an electric blue mane and large purple shades stood at the center of the stage, smoking one last cigarette. Vinyl Scratch looked over the setup she was provided for the performance. Glancing over the technician’s inspection and making last-minute adjustments, she thought back to when she first told her fiancée about this day.

Vinyl walked into the bedroom, where her fiancée was already in bed for the evening. Octavia looked up from her book. “Long day?”

“Yeah. I think I spend more time in meetings with Derpy and ponies in suits than producing and playing music nowadays.” Vinyl slipped into bed. “Fortunately, we got my summer tour planned.”

Octavia set her book on the nightstand. “Where will you be playing? Anywhere special?”

“Guess.” Vinyl cuddled up to Octavia.

“Another nightclub lit by flashing lights and lasers and saturated with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and cigarette smoke?” Octavia said, ruffling Vinyl’s hair with a hoof.

“How about the Royal Canterlot Symphony Hall?” Vinyl bragged. Octavia stared at her incredulously.

“You mean to tell me DJ PON-3, the artist known for her loud and obnoxious music, is going to play at the Royal Canterlot Symphony Hall before me?”

“Yup!” Vinyl said, grinning.

“The music industry these days...” Octavia groaned.

With a majority of the setup crew off the stage, Vinyl crushed out her cigarette on one of the speakers and trudged into the DJ booth. The lights dimmed, and she started spinning a single record on her turntable. During her previous shows, Vinyl would spin multiple records at once and use her musical talent to create mixes; unfortunately, her music label for this tour had ordered her to do little more than press play for her songs. She had been instructed to make only minimal adjustments in an effort to avoid “unfortunate incidents,” as the label had called them, and sell more records.

As the curtains rose, Vinyl saw the concert hall packed full of screaming fans, all of them cheering for her. She wanted to do so much more with this live performance, but had to follow the executives’ orders. With a drop of bass, the entire concert hall exploded. Vinyl tried to make it look like she was doing something, bobbing her head and adjusting songs with the equalizer.

“Another night, another dollar.”

Despite the entire concert hall yelling for an encore, Vinyl was done with her performance not only for the night, but for summer as well. Stepping down from the central booth, Vinyl left for the dressing room. She’d left the door unlocked, so she bumped the door open with her shoulder and found found a light grey pegasus mare sitting in the salon chair for pre-show makeup and hair treatment, though her blonde mane was pulled tightly in a braided bun: her manager, Derpy Hooves.

“Excellent show, Vinyl!” Derpy cheered.

“Thanks.” Vinyl sat in the chair next to Derpy’s as she lit up a cigarette, and the pegasus leaned away to avoid the building cloud of smoke.

“Feeling all right? That was probably one of your biggest performances.” Not responding right away, Vinyl stared off into the distance as she savored her first bit of nicotine in two hours.

“Definitely. I've never heard a crowd so loud.” Vinyl sucked in a mouthful of smoke. “I suppose it was pretty good for a night spent admiring the venue’s architecture instead of playing. Shame the execs don't allow me to do anything special.”

Derpy shrugged and flipped open a compact mirror, dabbing at her cheekbones with a powder brush. “We have to do what the higher ups tell us to do, Vinyl. I’d rather let you do your thing and not have to micromanage everything, but for this tour, I’ve been instructed to do nothing more than reserve what we need for a show, set up meetings, and speak on your behalf to the media and the public.”

“Yeah, still a shame,” Vinyl sighed.

Derpy had hoped for more of a conversation, but Vinyl’s terse replies gave her nothing to work with. After what felt like minutes of silence, she tried another topic. “So, how are things with Octavia? Have you... told her about that thing yet?”

Vinyl sighed, slightly annoyed. “I'll get to it; finishing up this tour took a bit of stress off, so maybe soon.”

“Hope it goes well.” Derpy nodded. “I am always here if needed.”

“Thanks.” Vinyl smiled. “How is Dinky?”

Derpy perked up at the change of topic. “She is doing well in school. She wants to see you and Octavia sometime.”

“Maybe soon, then. I just need to handle Octavia first.” Vinyl got up and grabbed her jacket from the nearby coat rack. “Is my ride here?”

“Yes. I made sure a sky carriage got here early. Have a good night, Vinyl. Please let me know how it goes,” Derpy said, trying to sound reassuring.

Vinyl put on her jacket and walked over to the exit. Before leaving, she looked over at Derpy.

“Thank you, for everything.”

“Same.” Derpy smiled.

Vinyl left the dressing room, eager to return home.

Walking down the hall, Vinyl made her way to the rear door exits where security was stationed to protect her from the barrage of fans that lay on the other side. As the doors opened, the crowd began screaming from behind the guardrails. Vinyl dashed through the small opening in the crowd, quickly making her way to the sky carriage Derpy had called in earlier.

As soon as she got close enough, Vinyl leapt into the carriage and slammed the door shut. Even with the doors and windows closed, the screaming leaked into the carriage. Digging into one of her jacket’s pockets, Vinyl pulled out a cassette player and placed the connected headphones in her ears. She pressed play, and the soothing sound of ambient electronic music poured into her ears, drowning out the screaming fans. The mixtape was soothingly familiar, one she often used to clear her mind after a night of loud music and louder crowds.
With the crowd cleared from around the carriage by security, the carriage and its flyers had enough room to take off.

Vinyl woke, after having slept through a few hours of the flight, to see the city of Manehattan glowing outside her window. The city was more reliant on its modern technologies than on magic, lit by the high rising skyscrapers and street lights below. Carriages, both flying and non, flitted back and forth between the buildings at speeds that only seemed reasonable from Vinyl’s high vantage point.

The carriage turned and started flying parallel to one of the streets, slowly descending toward the pavement and eventually landing in front of a high rise apartment building. Once the carriage came to a full stop, one of the pegasi pulling it stepped out of his harness and opened the passenger door.

“We are here, madam.”

“Thanks,” Vinyl said, stepping out with a sigh.

Closing the door behind Vinyl, the pegasus bowed his head. “Have a good evening, Miss Scratch,” he said, before taking off.

Slogging into the apartment building, Vinyl trudged through the lobby to the elevators in the back hall. She pressed a button, stepping inside as the doors opened. With a tap to another button, she was carried up to the twentieth floor.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a hallway with only two doors for high scale apartments. She approached the first door to the right and entered the spacious apartment that had been provided for her by Manehattan Records. Walking through a dark living room lit only by the outside lights of Manehattan, she proceeded to the master bedroom in the back of the apartment. Seeing the door to the bedroom open, Vinyl walked in quietly and found Octavia resting.

Vinyl took off her jacket and threw it to the side as she slipped into bed. After being away for a month, she wanted nothing more than to simply be with her Octavia.

“Mmmph…” Octavia mumbled, tangling the sheets as she rolled over to face Vinyl.

“Sorry to wake you.” Vinyl rose up on one elbow, leaning over Octavia and giving her a little kiss on the side of her neck.

“It’s fine, what time is it?” Octavia leaned in and nuzzled Vinyl with a sleepy purr. Vinyl looked at the clock.

“It’s past 4AM,” Vinyl said, a bit surprised.

“I need to go back to sleep since I am doing something later this morning, but…” Octavia turned her head over to face Vinyl as she pulled her in. “It’s nice to have you here with me.”

“It’s good to finally be in bed with you again, Tavi.” Vinyl held onto her as well.

“You too, hun.” Octavia closed her eyes. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Vinyl murmured back, closing her eyes as well.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The aggravating, high-pitched noise of Vinyl’s alarm clock blared through the bedroom. Still groggy from the last night’s performance and her lack of sleep, Vinyl slammed her hoof on the snooze button. She opened her eyes and looked at the clock. 10a.m. Octavia was already out of bed, and Vinyl smelled coffee brewing in the kitchen at the other end of the apartment. Octavia must have already left for her errands.
“Where did you go so early, Tavi?”

She knew Octavia was going to be back sometime later. Vinyl rolled out of bed and headed straight to the kitchen. Grabbing a mug, she filled it up with the flat and bitter brew, and took a sip. It was nice of Octavia to leave the coffee pot on, but the taste of burnt, bitter coffee made Vinyl cringe. She placed the mug in the sink and walked back through the bedroom to the master bath.

As she stepped onto the cold tiled floor, Vinyl looked at the twin sinks to the left, noting that remnants of Octavia’s morning preparations were scattered by her side of the sink while Vinyl’s side remained clean. Vinyl ignored the mess, stepped into the large shower stall, and turned a knob with her magic, relaxing as warm water sprayed over her coat. She grabbed a bar of soap with her magic and began cleaning herself off, the stench of sweat and cigarette smoke running down her sides and gurgling as it disappeared into the drain. Vinyl covered her electric blue mane and tail with shampoo to clean out the remaining grime. After only a few minutes, she turned the knob back to the off position. Vinyl grabbed the last remaining towel from the towel rack and began to dry herself off.

Vinyl returned to her side of the twin sink, and wrapped up the remainder of her morning routine. She examined her soaked, messy mane in the mirror. Deciding to leave it that way, she walked out of the bathroom.

Vinyl picked up the jacket she had thrown to the side the previous night, dug her cassette player out of the jacket’s pockets, and placed it to the side. She walked over to the master bedroom closet, opening the closet door to find rows of band shirts and jackets. After rummaging through her clothes, Vinyl picked out a large black hoodie with neon blue accents. She put it on, picked up the cassette player she set to the side, and clipped it onto the one of the hoodie’s pockets.

Vinyl walked over to her bedside table, picked up her glasses’ case, and put on her thin-framed prescription glasses; her signature shades were only for show, and she needed an actual pair of glasses to wear out. Grabbing a pair of keys from the same table, Vinyl left the apartment for her coffee run, with headphones in her ears playing the same mixtape from the previous night.

Vinyl hummed as she walked out into the streets of Manehattan. It was bustling with activity as always during the day, though the sounds of the city were cancelled out by Vinyl’s headphones. She dug through her pockets, pulling out an extra pack of cigarettes, and lit up as she passed by an expensive clothing emporium—something Octavia might like.

Even with her cutie mark on display, a majority of ponies would not recognize Vinyl without her iconic purple shades or swept-forward mane. To her, DJ PON-3 was nothing more than a stage name. No one knew of her personal life, nor of her current relationship with Octavia. A stallion even asked Vinyl if she saw one of DJ PON-3’s shows once. It had felt surprisingly good to be able to be someone other than her carefully crafted stage self.

A few blocks down, Vinyl finally made it to her favorite local coffee shop, Simply Coffee. It lacked a large menu like proper cafes, but instead offered quality over quantity. Vinyl saw no line as she entered, so she walked over to the earth mare working at the register.

“Good morning! What can I get for you?” the mare said with a smile.

“Just a large dark roast coffee and a bagel with cream cheese, please,” Vinyl said in a low tone, still tired from the lack of sleep and the absence of coffee in her system.

“Sure, and your name is?” The mare held a marker in her mouth, and a large cup in her hoof.

“Vinyl.”

The earth mare wrote Vinyl’s name on her cup. “That will be three bits and two minutes, tops.”

She began to put the order together as Vinyl pulled out her wallet and retrieved three bits, placing them on the counter. The mare behind the counter quickly finished the order and set a large cup of coffee on the counter, next to a bag with the rest of Vinyl’s order.

“Anything else?” The mare asked, still smiling.

“I think that’s all, thanks.” Vinyl turned, levitating her coffee and bag with her.

“You’re welcome. Have a nice day, sir.”

Stepping outside, Vinyl sipped his coffee with a smile. “At least somepony got it right,” he chuckled. It had surely just been a slip of the tongue on the barista’s part, but he was still happy to count it. If only everything could be so simple.

Vinyl didn't need a cigarette on his way back to the apartment, thanks to the coffee in his system. Along the way, he unwrapped and took a bite of his bagel. Between sips of coffee and bites of bagel, he thought back on his conversation with Derpy the previous night.

“Have you told her yet?”

He wanted nothing more than to tell Octavia, but was still not sure how she would react. Would she see him differently? Would she still like him? Would there still be a wedding?

Accepting Octavia’s proposal may have been a mistake.

Octavia and Vinyl were relaxing at an outdoor cafe in Manehattan Park on a lovely spring day. Couples and other ponies were sitting at the cafe while a small crowd formed around the jazz band playing on the open-air stage, watching their performance. The two mares sat in the center of it all. Octavia sipped her tea as Vinyl savored the scent of her coffee.

“I can't recall the last time I listened to a jazz group.” Vinyl focused on the quartet, the lead guitarist playing the primary melody, another guitarist mirroring him in a lower octave, the drummer keeping a steady rhythm, and the bassist standing off to the side, grooving along with the performance.

“After class at the academy, I would always catch shows like these. As much as I like classical, it was nice to hear something different once in a while.” While still listening to the band, Octavia was more focused on Vinyl.

“So, we don't normally come here. I mean, it’s nice and all, but is there any other reas—” Octavia interrupted Vinyl with a tap on the shoulder.

Vinyl turned to look, and was caught completely off-guard. Octavia was kneeling on the ground before her, holding up an open box with one hoof. Resting in the box was a shining golden hoofband.

"Tavi...?"

“We have known each other for the past two years now. I know we have our differences, but at the same time I have never met a mare quite as unique as yourself, or one who has cared so much for me.” Ponies nearby took notice of the two mares, and Octavia smiled. Even the nearby band halted their performance to watch the couple.

“Vinyl Scratch, will you marry me?” Octavia asked, tearing up.

Vinyl stood frozen in front of her, scrambling to think of just the right thing to say. She could only think of one answer. “Yes.” And with that, the crowd around the two mares clapped and cheered as Octavia placed the engagement band on Vinyl’s left hoof.

What else could he have said?

Back from his errands, Vinyl quickly went to the bedroom and hung his hoodie back up in the closet. He thought back on the coffee shop mare, and on his joy at being called ‘sir.’ It was one of the few secrets he still kept from Tavi. As soon as he left the closet, he heard the front door open.

“Vinyl! I’m home! Come out to the living room, I have something to show you!” Octavia called as Vinyl walked in and saw her sitting at the coffee table in the center of the room, holding a book in her lap. “Sit down. I am ordering our dresses.”

“Dresses?” The word made Vinyl cringe.

“Yes! I just had my measurements taken this morning, and even picked out a dress. Now we need to pick out yours.” Vinyl sat next to Octavia as she opened the book.

Vinyl looked into the book. This was the last thing he wanted. Each page Octavia turned made him want to scream for her to stop. “Now, I am not sure what style you prefer, but I decided to pick up a catalogue of more modern styles.” Octavia pointed at a few dresses in the book, Vinyl thinking in the back of his mind, “Octavia, please stop.”

Still unsure of how to say it, Vinyl put his hoof over Octavia’s.

“Tavi… I don't want a dress,” Vinyl said. Octavia stopped focusing on the book and looked at Vinyl.

“Why not?”

“I… I think I would look nicer in a tuxedo.” Vinyl looked away from the book, trying to avoid Octavia’s gaze.

Octavia closed the book. “Um, I suppose if that’s what you want—” She cut herself off when, glancing over, she saw the look on Vinyl’s face. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes as he visibly strained to hold back his emotions.

“Vinyl? Are you—crying?” Octavia had never seen Vinyl cry before, and she was certain her fiancé wouldn't start now just because she couldn't find the right dress. Something more serious was wrong. She wrapped her forelegs around him.

“Is there something you need to tell me?”

Not able to hold in his feelings any longer, Vinyl took a deep breath.

This is it.

“Octavia…” Vinyl paused, conflicting thoughts rushing through his head as he tried to form the correct words. He wrapped himself around Octavia, bawling.

“I’m… I’m not a mare.”

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine, Furion and Proper Noun for helping with this chapter.

Re-edited on 8/14/2015 by Madeline L-Equine.

Chapter 9 - Progress

Vinyl sat on a chair made of clouds on the patio outside her hotel room, smoking a cigarette in one hoof while holding a drink in the other. She scratched at the tight metal band around her fetlock; sure it kept her from falling to her death, but did it have to be so itchy? It wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things, she supposed. Her eyes flitted between the impossibly floating buildings as she took in the sight of Cloudsdale for the first time. It was gorgeous, provided one didn’t look down or think too hard about how most of the homes had front doors that opened to a thousand foot drop instead of a road.

Two sharp knocks sounded from her door. “Who is it?” Vinyl called over her shoulder. She heard the door creak open behind her.

“It’s me; is it all right if I come in?”

“Sure. I’m out on the patio.”

As she heard Derpy’s hoofsteps approaching from behind, Vinyl thought about how different her friend had become over the past few years. The old Derpy was practically on the tips of her hooves at all times, as though she were always worried about knocking over someone’s favorite vase. The steps crossing her hotel room sounded businesslike. Confident.

“So, how do you like Cloudsdale?” Derpy asked as she fell into a cloud chair next to Vinyl.

“It’s lovely. I wish I could bring Octavia, though, rather than spending all of my time at press interviews, signings, and shows.”

Derpy shrugged, smiling awkwardly. “Hey, there’s always next time, right? Maybe you can come back during your honeymoon.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

Derpy nodded and pulled out her planner. “We will be here one more day for a show tomorrow night at the Wind Tunnel. Then, we will be heading off to Vanhoover for three shows, five shows in Las Pegasus, the festival in Appleloosa, and the grand finale at the Canterlot Royal Symphony Hall.

“Great. Looking forward to it.” Vinyl sighed, sipping on her drink and taking a pull from her cigarette.

“Are you all right?”

“Honestly? No. I’m not.”

“Is it the stress of the tour?” Derpy asked with an empathetic frown.

Vinyl shook her head.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of getting married when we get home,” Derpy said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you go on about something you want as much as Octavia.”

Vinyl bit her lip and crushed her cigarette out on a cloud coaster, which darkened as it soaked up the smoke. “No, it’s not that. It’s something I’ve been keeping secret.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re hitting up drugs.”

Vinyl raised her eyebrows at Derpy. “Seriously?”

“Hey, I had to ask. You’re the one being cryptic.”

“Well then, to answer your question, no. I am not ‘riding the white pony.’ It’s just something that has been bothering me for the past few months.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you know how I only like mares, right?”

“Of course, ever since I met you when I was in late middle school. I still remember that night you had me hold up a yearbook so you could practice coming out to your classmates.”

“I think there’s more to it than that. I feel I haven’t been keeping true to myself for these past few years, if that makes sense.”

Derpy scratched her chin. “How so?”

“When I am DJ-PON3, I’m not me; I’m just a famous figure made to market and sell records and tickets. This career has given me a lot of money, but all the fame is going to DJ-PON3—a fake name wearing my face.”

“So, you want to be known as Vinyl Scratch rather than DJ-PON3? It’s not usually a commercially wise move for a musician to change their name mid-career, but if it’s really bothering you so much—”

“It’s not just that,” Vinyl interrupted. “I don’t want to be a DJ or any of this. I want to be me.” She paused and set down her drink again, then continued, “Thing is, I have been having... odd feelings for the past few months. I don’t like being DJ-PON3 anymore.” Vinyl sighed, setting her glass down silently. “I don’t even like being myself.”

“What do you mean? What do you want to be, then?”

“A stallion.”

There was a pause. Derpy tried to find words, but nothing would come.

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either.”

Derpy tapped her hoof. Vinyl pulled out her pack of cigarettes, shook it to check how many she had left, then pulled one out and stuffed the butt between her lips.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?” Vinyl asked as she lit up.

“Give me one of those.”

Vinyl stared at Derpy. “I thought you didn’t smoke.”

“I don’t. Just — fuck. What are you going to tell Octavia?”

“I don’t know.”

After seeing their friends and buying groceries, Vinyl unlocked the front door of his home and he and Octavia carried their grocery bags into the kitchen.

“We should have bought more beer,” Vinyl said, giving Octavia his best pout.

“Maybe next time.” Octavia smiled, shaking her head as she hefted two bags onto the counter to unpack.

“Need any help?”

“I’m fine. You still need to call the doctor’s office.” She looked over at Vinyl as she closed one of the overhead cabinets.

“Nah, I can do that later. Let me help.” Vinyl picked up a bag filled with produce and hoisted it onto his back.

“Vinyl.” Octavia stopped what she was doing and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “You can do it now,” she said firmly.

“All right, fine.” With a sigh, Vinyl stopped unpacking the bag, walked over to the phone, and pulled out an old address book kept on the table below it. He turned a few pages, found the number for the doctor’s office, and dialed it in.

After a few rings, a mare picked up on the other end.

“Ponyville Doctor’s office. How may I help you?”

“Hello. I would like to make an appointment.”

“What for?”

“What?”

“Oh! I mean, ‘what is the purpose of your appointment today, sir backslash madam?’” the mare asked, adopting a more formal tone. Vinyl realized she was reading from a guide card and bit his lip to keep from giggling. After a moment, he remembered she was expecting an answer.

“Oh. Um... consultation?” Vinyl said the first thing coming to mind.

“Sorry ’bout that. We mostly see the same handful of ponies, so I just assume everyone already knows what I’m talking about. Consultation for what, sug? Anything more specific?”

“Um, consultation for transition?”

“Transition?”

“Well, you know… transition.” Vinyl hinted as hard as he could using tone of voice alone.

“Ooohhhhh. Okay, Doctor Horse recently had one of his patients cancel on him. Would Thursday at eleven be a good time for you?”

“Yeah, sounds great.”

“Can I get a name, sug?”

“Vinyl Scratch.”

“All right, Vinyl. We’ll see you Thursday.”

“Thanks.”

Vinyl hung up the phone and looked at Octavia. She smiled at him.

“Not so hard, was it?” she asked.

“Second time’s the charm, I guess.”

After unpacking groceries and having lunch, Octavia got up from the kitchen table.

“I need to practice. Is it all right if I do so in the living room?”

“Go ahead. I’ll clean up,” Vinyl said, picking up the dishes from the table and placing them in the sink.

Octavia walked over to her cello case. Opening it, she removed her instrument and stood it up, carefully balancing herself on her hind legs to keep her weight off its delicate wooden frame. She ran the bow over the strings several times to make sure everything was in order, then began playing a slow piece that resonated throughout their home.

Vinyl ran the water and listened to her playing while he worked on the dishes. While the piece was slow, each note resonated with somber elegance. “A bit formal for a bakery, don’t you think?” he called, and Octavia paused. “It’s beautiful, but you’re not going to be adding to the ambiance outside of a high society ball.”

The tempo shifted upward, the notes sounding brighter, like a spring morning. A slight bounce entered Octavia’s motions. “You mean like this?”

“Yeah, that’s it! I know that’s how I’d want it to sound whenever I walked into a cake shop.” Vinyl left the dishes to dry and wiped his hooves off on a towel.

Octavia curtseyed, then her bow skidded to a halt. She inhaled sharply, then began running the bow across the cello’s neck feverishly. It took Vinyl a moment to realize it was a riff from an old rock song he used to bother her by playing. Even though she was sweating and breathing heavily by the time she finished, she smiled as though she felt fine. “I shall practice whatever I like, dearest,” she said once she’d caught her breath. After a moment, she began playing another tune.

Vinyl walked into the living room and over to a small bookshelf opposite the piano, carefully picking over the old books until he found one that was hoof-bound. Several of its cover’s edges had worn down and been taped over. He sat in a chair, poring over a few pages as he listened to Octavia play.

The melody was slow and soft, delicate and meandering like dandelion seeds in the breeze. Suddenly, Octavia’s nose tickled horribly. She tried to keep herself from sneezing, but the effort made the bow unsteady against the strings and she had to give in. Vinyl jumped in his chair at the sound.

“Oh dear…” Octavia sniffled.

“Still adjusting to the weather?” Vinyl said, searching for his place in the book.

“I suppose so. I thought I already had,” Octavia groaned.

“I left the allergy medicine you got in the bathroom.”

“Thank you.” Octavia placed the cello against the wall and walked upstairs.

Vinyl got up and went over to the piano, propping up the lid and pulling out the bench. Placing his book on the piano, he sat down. His horn glowed, and he played a few slow scales to warm up. He took a breath, then began to play the slow piece he had been studying.

Upstairs, Octavia’s ears perked at the sound of the piano playing. As she stepped back down to the living room, she found herself looking down at Vinyl. It was strange, seeing him so well-postured and composed. Whenever she’d see him working on his music before, he’d be doing five things at once. Now his attention was solely on the piano.

The song slowed, and Vinyl held the final note as he looked up and smiled at her.

“That was beautiful,” Octavia said as she descended the last steps and walked up beside him. “What was it?”

“Something my mom wrote. She quit playing piano when she got sick, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing a pen in her mouth and writing music.”

“What made you want to play it? You’ve been thinking about her a lot, haven’t you?”

“Well yeah, but it’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“I have someone to listen to me play now.” He winked.

A few days had passed since Octavia and Vinyl moved to Ponyville, and their house was now clean and well-organized. Most of the furniture and decorations had been left behind when Vinyl moved to Manehattan, though it had all been given a thorough cleaning. A few new things had been brought in, of course. A home just wasn’t a home without a proper cello stand.

Octavia had already left to play for the morning crowd at Sugarcube Corner, so Vinyl was alone in the house as he prepared to head out for his appointment. He looked at the clock and powered through the rest of his breakfast and steaming coffee. He got up, threw his jacket on, and walked out the front door, closing and locking it behind him.

Pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, he withdrew a single cigarette and lit up on his stoop before stepping onto the dirt and setting off to the doctor’s office.

Vinyl opened the door warily and shuffled up to the reception desk, glancing side to side around the near-empty lobby. A mare sat there, organizing forms and folders. Vinyl cleared his throat and she peeked out around the stack she was holding, immediately setting them down when she saw him.

“Good morning. Do you have an appointment?”

“Um, yeah. Vinyl Scratch for eleven.”

“Okay. Please sign in while I get some forms for you.”

Vinyl picked up a pen with his magic and wrote his name on the sign in sheet, while the mare passed him a stack of several papers.

“We just need you to fill out some basic information on these. Be sure to bring them back up to me when you are done. Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” Vinyl said, shaking his head. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” She smiled, then added “The doctor will be with you soon.”

The mare picked up her folders and forms, shuffling through them slowly. Vinyl sat in a chair near the entrance and began filling out the small novel’s worth of forms he had been given. Outside, the sunflowers flared in full bloom. Instead of city noise, he could hear fillies playing jump rope. A few minutes after Vinyl had finished writing out every possible detail of his personal life and handed the papers over at the desk, a nurse came out from behind a door in the back.

“Vinyl Scratch?”

Vinyl stood up, and she quickly turned towards him.

“Please follow me.”

She led him over to a chair where she motioned for him to sit down.

“So, are you new here?” she said, grabbing a blood pressure cuff.

“Sort of. Actually, I lived here a long time ago. Just moved back recently.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Were you in Mrs. Write’s class?” She wrapped a pad around his foreleg and began pumping it up.

“No.”

“Aww. I bet you’re meeting a lot of people you used to know though, huh?” She squeezed the pump again. Vinyl winced.

“Well, your blood pressure seems okay. Let’s take your weight. Step on the scale, please.”

Vinyl stepped on the scale while the nurse wrote the medical details on her clipboard.

The nurse’s eyes flashed between Vinyl and the reading on the scale. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast this morning. I know I’m underweight, but this is pretty normal for me. Just got a high metabolism, I guess.”

The nurse thought for a moment, then immediately brightened. “Okay. This way please.”

The two ponies walked into a small office. It was taken up mainly by a large desk with a few chairs around it.

“The doctor will be with you shortly.” The nurse said and left the room, leaving Vinyl alone in the office.

Vinyl sat down, looking around the room. It wasn’t as lifeless as the last one. A stand with a few colorful pamphlets hung on the wall near the corner. A large section of a wall was taken up by an abstract painting that Vinyl thought looked like a mess of shapes.

Five minutes later, the door to the office opened and the doctor walked in.

“Hello. Vinyl Scratch?” he said, extending a hoof.

“Yeah,” Vinyl said, shaking hooves.

“Just making sure. Don’t want to mix up my patients,” he said, placing a folder on his desk and sitting down. “So, you are here about consultation for a transition? Mare to stallion, correct?”

“Um, yes.” Vinyl fidgeted with his hooves. “I know it’s going to take months for you to be able to get me started on anything. I just want to get the ball rolling.”

“Months? Why?”

“Well, that’s what I was told by my last doctor. In Manehattan.”

“Really?” The doctor laughed. “I never thought I’d get to say that we’re more medically advanced than Manehattan here in Ponyville. Not that I’m going to brag about it or anything.” He opened the folder and looked over Vinyl’s records.

Vinyl’s ears perked up. “What are the modern standards?”

“Well, it did used to be true that we had ponies with your condition wait for months before we gave them any medication. I know, I know,” he said, raising his front hooves as if he were heading off an outburst, “‘How could they?’ ‘The horror; the horror!’ Right? It’s just how things were. The prevailing opinion was that we needed to test their commitment to be sure they were serious about their decision. Over time, we found that patients were often depressed, and waiting for their medication only made it worse. Therefore, medical offices like ours now offer informed consent.”

“Informed consent?”

The doctor went over to his filing cabinet and pulled out a stapled stack of pages.

“Yep, that’s the whole story. Here; read over this.” He handed the papers to Vinyl.

Vinyl grabbed them and began reading. The packet went into details of what the drugs would do to him and the possible side effects. The final page was a disclaimer, saying that after signing the contract, he could not take legal action against the doctor.

“So, if I sign this, I can get started?”

“That’s right! You sign that you understand everything you just read and won’t sue me out of my house, and that’s that.”

Vinyl quickly read over the document again, then placed the document down on the desk.

“Can I have a pen, please?”

The doctor pulled out a pen from his jacket and handed it to Vinyl, who grabbed it with his levitation magic. Vinyl quickly signed his name and handed both the pen and document to the doctor.

“Let me write up your prescriptions and you can go along your way,” he pulled out some small pieces of paper and began writing with the same pen in his mouth. Finishing up, he handed a single piece of paper to Vinyl.

“All right. It sounds like you’ve waited long enough, so we’ll be starting you off strong with injectables–”

“Injectables?” Vinyl’s ears pressed back against his head and he seemed to shrink.

“Yes. A series of shots, but not too often. You will be taking them once every three weeks. What’s wrong? Scared of needles?”

Yes. “No!” Vinyl shook his head. “I’m a big, strong stallion, right? I can handle a few needles.”

“Hmm…” The doctor studied Vinyl for a moment. “All right; that’s fantastic! Instructions will be provided with your medication, and I want you to come back here in three months so I can check your levels and make sure you’re still healthy. Any questions?”

Vinyl stared at the doctor blankly, “Thats it?”

“Yep! See you in three months. Call us if anything seems off.”

Vinyl placed the prescription in his jacket pocket and set a tentative appointment for three months later. Walking out of the doctors office, he pulled the paper out of his jacket and looked at it.

The thing he had been waiting for for months was in his hooves.

Vinyl didn’t bother asking for directions to the pharmacy to pick up his prescription. There was only one pharmacy in town: the same one he’d gone to since he was little. A few minutes later, he walked out with a brown bag containing a vial and a rubber-banded bundle of syringes.

Vinyl called out to Octavia as he entered their home and locked the door behind him. Silence. She must still be out. Vinyl carried the bag into the living room and emptied its contents onto the coffee table: a single vial, a bunch of pre-packaged syringes, and a mess of receipts and small papers. Digging through the mess, he found the sheet with directions for injecting himself properly.

It had crude drawings of a pony inserting a needle into their upper leg muscle and step-by-step instructions on prepping the surface, the syringe, and how to avoid accidentally injecting into a vein.

Vinyl looked at the pile of needles and took a breath. He levitated one of the wrapped syringes and tore the paper off of it, then pushed the needle into the vial and extracted exactly his prescribed dosage of the liquid. He checked the level in the syringe, tapped it, and checked it again. Who knew what could happen if he got it wrong?

“Why did it have to be needles?” Vinyl lay on the floor, taking a moment to decide which thigh he felt like injecting. Ever since he’d gotten his new look, his tail had covered his right thigh better, so it would be less obvious there. He rolled onto his side and used his magic to fetch some rubbing alcohol and toilet paper from the bathroom. After soaking the paper with alcohol, he wiped down the selected spot on his leg.

“Just a small prick,” he said to himself. It wasn’t very reassuring. He picked the syringe back up and slowly brought it to his thigh. Vinyl looked away as he pushed the needle through his skin and depressed the plunger. He held it there for a moment. For some reason, needles always felt creepier coming out than going in. He counted to three and pulled the needle out. No blood followed, which meant he’d done it properly. He slapped on a Daring Do adhesive bandage and looked at himself. He still had the same scrawny legs, the same chipped hooves that Octavia kept telling him to get polished, the same clothes that smelled like tobacco no matter what he did.

“I thought I’d at least feel different,” Vinyl sighed.

Octavia stood on a raised dais on the covered patio outside Sugarcube Corner, playing a pleasant mid-tempo melody on her cello for the diners. All of the windows were open to let in the summer breeze, and her music floated along with it. She’d planned on leaving her cello case open for tips, but Lyra had made a proper tip jar by gluing a mason jar to an old podium, presumably because the jar kept falling off.

At the end of her piece, the small group of ponies clapped. She bowed and ended her performance. As she packed up her cello and bow, a unicorn with a blue mane approached her.

“Excuse me, miss?” he said.

Looking up, Octavia saw him standing over her. “Um, yes?”

“I was listening to your performance, and I don’t mean to pry, but I have to ask. Are you a professional? I haven’t met another pony that played cello that well.”

“Not quite. I’ve always planned to be, but I’m just a graduate from Manehattan Conservatory. I wasn’t even the top of my class.”

“Then you must not have applied yourself. Skill like that doesn’t get you average marks.”

Octavia shrugged. “Perhaps not as much as I should have, but why impress the teacher when you plan to impress millions?”

“Do you play with symphonies? Orchestras? Quartets?”

“I have juggled several temporary positions across Manehattan. Other than that, I have unfortunately been going it alone, so to speak. I only moved to town recently. With my fiancé. But I have a few questions of my own. Primarily, who exactly am I telling all this to?”

“Oh, my apologies,” the stallion practically jumped. “Where are my manners? I am Fancy Pants, though my associates simply refer to me as Fancy.” He pulled out a metal case and withdrew a business card, passing it to Octavia.

“Octavia, Octavia Melody.” Not having a fancy card like his, she raised her hoof. Fancy Pants took her hoof in his, then bent down and kissed it.

“Enchanté, Ms. Melody. Your performance was lovely.”

“When you said you hadn’t heard another cellist as good as me, you sounded like you’ve heard tons of them. Do you work in music, sir?”

“Well, you could say that I have friends in the theater,” Fancy said with a wink. “Unfortunately, I have nothing planned at the moment, but is there a way I can contact you? Plenty of productions could use a skilled cellist like yourself.”

“Of course,” Octavia said, keeping her tone even with some effort. She withdrew a notepad and pen from her cello case and wrote down her phone number, then tore it out and passed it to him.

“Thank you.” He said placing the paper in his jacket pocket, “I do hope to see you play in the future, Octavia.” Something else apparently caught his attention and he disappeared into the crowd after a final nod in Octavia’s direction.

Who was that? Octavia thought to herself. She knew his name, but still something seemed strange. Suddenly, she felt someone tapping her shoulder.

“Octavia, who was that?” Vinyl said, raising an eyebrow looking at him walk off.

“Vinyl!” Octavia squeaked. “Hello!” Octavia swallowed hard and regained her composure. “You’re out earlier than expected.”

“Yeah; it was easier than I thought it would be, actually. So, who was that guy?”

“I don’t really know,” Octavia said, shuffling her hooves. “He said he had friends in the theater, so he’s either some very rich, very gay stallion, or–” She looked at his card and her eyes widened. “Oh.”

“What is it?”

“He’s the owner of the Canterlot Royal Symphony Hall.”

“Damn, filly. Today must be our lucky day, huh?”

“Indeed,” Octavia finished packing her case and swung it across her back. “So, I hear you had a good time at the doctor’s?”

“Nobody has a good time at the doctor’s. Buuuuut, it went better than expected.”

“I could use a cup of coffee, actually, if you care to join me. Why can’t businesses start their days at noon like musicians do?” Octavia groaned, stretching out her back.

“Coffee sounds nice.”

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine, Furion and Purple Pegasus for helping with this chapter.

Chapter 12 - The First Day of the Rest of Our Lives

Vinyl and Octavia were walking down the warmly lit streets of Manehattan, deciding to ditch the Equestrian Music Awards party. They meant to figure out something else to do, but ended up meandering through town by themselves on an unexpected date. The incandescent glow from late-night bars and cafes offered plenty of options, but they all merged together into one bright background as the two mares lost themselves in talking to each other.

“And then she said, ‘Vinyl! You can’t play the Poney Pokey at a live show!’” The pair shared a laugh.

After catching her breath, Octavia stopped and faced Vinyl. “I had a good time, Vinyl.” She smiled. “I never thought bothering to show up at that dull party would end in such a wonderful evening.”

“I did too.” Vinyl smiled, putting her weight onto one hip in an attempt to look cool. “Why are we stopping, though?” Vinyl asked, lighting a cigarette.

Octavia yawned, looking up at the stars. “It’s late.”

“Is it?” Vinyl tucked the butt of the cigarette into the corner of her mouth and pulled up her watch, which showed it was 1AM. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Where do you live?”

“Downtown.”

“That’s quite a ways from here.”

Octavia chuckled. “‘A ways’? Is that a greater or shorter distance than ‘over yonder’?”

“I’m from a small town. Sue me. But what I meant to say was...” Vinyl scuffed her hoof on the pavement, blowing out smoke to stall for time. “Are you sure it’s safe walking there by yourself?”

“I can handle myself.” Octavia stomped one rear hoof, then the other on the pavement for emphasis before lifting one up, letting Vinyl examine her taut thigh muscles. “Standing on your hind legs for hours at a time tends to give you strong legs.”

“They look nice,” Vinyl began, but caught herself. “I mean, I see what you mean. Well, you could get back, but it would be nearly sunrise by the time you got home.” Vinyl brushed her hoof through her mane. “But, well, I happen to live in one of the expensive apartment complexes nearby. Do you want to—um…”

Octavia was looking at her curiously now, and, in her eyes, Vinyl saw all of the questions she didn’t want to answer. All the nagging little doubts. She’s practically a stranger. You think you’re cool enough to get someone like her to come home with you? She won’t be impressed. You left a mess everywhere.

Vinyl couldn’t finish the question; this was a lot different than having a girlfriend when she was a teenager.

“Are you asking me to stay the night?”

“Yeah. You know, since yours is so far away,“ Vinyl said, smiling sheepishly.

“My hero,” Octavia fawned. Before Vinyl knew it, Octavia leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Really, I think spending the evening with you would be lovely, Miss Scratch."

"Please," Vinyl said, turning her head and kissing Octavia's cheek in return, "call me Vinyl."

They walked a few blocks and entered a nearby apartment complex. Along the way, Octavia bumped Vinyl with her hips.

When Vinyl looked over in confusion, she saw the twinkle in her eyes and swallowed hard. Ooookay, that’s a sex look. That’s definitely a sex look. Vinyl felt like singing at knowing that Octavia wanted her, but a realization hit her like a train. I have no idea what I’m doing!

...I need to call Derpy.

Nodding at the pony taking the graveyard shift at the help desk, Vinyl led Octavia to the elevator. Once they arrived at her floor, Vinyl led her to the room, unlocked it, and opened it to show Octavia her apartment.

Octavia gasped. “This place looks… expensive.”

“One of the benefits of working with a top music label.” Vinyl took off her white jacket and threw it on the sofa in the living room. “How do you feel after all that walking? There’s a shower in the master bathroom if you need one. There’s, um, actually two bathrooms, so it’s the one in the master suite.”

“Where’s that?”

“That door”—Vinyl gestured with a hoof—“then, once inside, go to the first door on the left.”

“Thank you. I can’t wait to wash off all the makeup I put on for that stupid party.”

“No prob.” Vinyl watched Octavia’s hips sway as she walked through her bedroom to the master bath and shut the door behind herself. As soon as she heard the shower running, Vinyl dashed to the kitchen, snatched up the phone, and punched in a number.

Vinyl’s hoof tapped against the linoleum as the phone rang and rang. “C’mon, pick up, pick up!”

After what felt like minutes, there was a click on the other end of the line, followed by the groggy voice of another mare.

“Vinyl, you are damn lucky I caught the phone before Dinky woke up.” Derpy yawned. “What do you want? It’s nearly two in the morning.”

“Derpy! I got a mare over at my place! What do I do?!”

“Um… I don’t date mares.” Derpy yawned again. “Is that seriously what you called me for? How should I know what to do with a mare?”

“I know, I know, but I’m pretty sure she wants sex and I know you’ve done that at least once.”

“Yes, and you saw how wonderfully that turned out for me.”

“Derpy, I don’t know what to do!” Vinyl hissed.

“All right, all right! Calm down. What is she doing right now?”

“She’s in the shower. I was thinking about surprising her by joining her in there. You know, being spontaneous.”

“Sure, because that’s what naked mares in strange apartments love. Surprises.” Vinyl could hear Derpy rolling her eyes through the phone. “Get into bed so she’ll see you when she comes out of the bathroom.”

“And then what?”

“Don’t get pregnant. Night, Vinyl.” Derpy hung up.

Vinyl’s face was blank.

Oh goddesses, oh goddesses! I have been waiting forever for this, but now I’m panicking! Okay, calm down. Deep breaths.

Vinyl took a series of deep breaths, and slowly got her nerves back under control.

“You can do this,” she told herself, nodding. “Just get into bed like Derpy said and I can figure it out from there.” Vinyl walked into the bedroom and lay on her bed, listening to the sounds of the shower at the other end of the room.

Octavia had left the door cracked open, and was singing softly to herself. The hot water felt good against her skin, and she spent several minutes just enjoying the warmth as the stress of the day melted off and ran into the drain. Once she was done, she turned the water off and spent a few minutes of vigorously drying her mane, then walked out to see Vinyl lying casually on the bed.

“Tired already?” Octavia asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Um, not really.” Vinyl suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be cool and confident, and hastily added a smile and eyebrow wiggle.

“I figured as much. I am still a bit wired from our stop at that coffee shop.” She walked to the other side of the bed and motioned with her hoof. “Is it okay if I...?”

“Of course! Make yourself at home.”

Octavia slipped into bed beside Vinyl. “This may sound odd, but could I just hold you for a while first? It’s been... some time I was with another pony.”

Okay, Vinyl. Just play this cool. “Yes!” Vinyl shrank at her own shout and coughed. “Um, yes. Hold me.”

“Are you okay? You seem nervous.”

“Not at all, th-that sounds nice!”

“All right.” Octavia wrapped her forelegs around Vinyl. “You’re warm.”

“Just a bit.”

“Mmm.” Octavia rested her cheek against Vinyl’s. “Say, Vinyl?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but… have you never slept with a mare before?”

“Ha ha… what makes you ask that?” Vinyl laughed unevenly.

Octavia brushed her nose across Vinyl’s, feeling the smaller mare tense under her before she pulled back. “You’ve had every opportunity to kiss me, to take the proverbial reins, but I’ve been the one making all the moves.” A slight flush rose in her dark cheeks. “Is it really that different from being with a stallion?”

“I wouldn’t know...” Vinyl whispered.

“What’s that?”

Vinyl took a deep breath and answered, “I wouldn’t know. I never liked stallions.”

“But, then… oh, don’t tell me.” Octavia smiled, holding back a laugh. “DJ-PON3, the up-and-comer the establishment can’t stop throwing awards at—the wet dream of teenagers everywhere—is a virgin?”

There was an awkward pause before Vinyl opened her mouth.

“Yes.” Vinyl buried her face in her hooves. She could see Derpy laughing at her now. “I’m sorry. I know you were expecting someone better.”

Octavia, however, didn’t laugh at all. Instead, she swept Vinyl into a hug. “Don’t be sorry. As much of a blow as this may be to your ego,” she teased, “I didn’t come home with you because I thought you were an awe-inspiring sex machine.” She ran a hoof through Vinyl’s frazzled mane. “I like you, Vinyl Scratch. You make me smile; that’s reason enough. Although”—Octavia’s voice dropped to a low, sultry growl—“having a nice butt helps.”

The gray mare suddenly laughed, and Vinyl couldn’t think of anything to say in response. “How old are you, Vinyl?”

“I’m twenty-five. You?”

There was another pause.

“Thirty-one,” Octavia admitted.

“…Wow.”

“It’s not that old.” Octavia huffed. “Well. Perhaps we say you don’t mind me being over thirty if I don’t mind you being a virgin at twenty-five. Deal?”

“Umm, deal? And you’re really not disappointed? I have no idea what I am supposed to do.”

Octavia shook her head. “Your first time is your first time. There’s not much anyone can do about that. And besides,” she added with a twinkle in her eye, “I like taking the lead.”

“Stay still, Vinyl. I’m trying to get this right,” Derpy said, trying to adjust the black bow tie on his tuxedo.

“Sorry, I’m just a little nervous.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. You just stand at the altar, look at your pretty soon-to-be wife, say you love her, kiss her, and then that’s it.”

“What if I trip?”

“You’re not wearing a wedding dress.”

“But what if I trip anyway?”

“Now you’re just making excuses.” She gave Vinyl’s bow tie one last little tug and stepped back. “There, done.”

“How do I look?”

“You look handsome. I think your mother would approve.”

“Thanks. I think so too.”

“Let’s see how everything is going outside—”

“Wait! What if she says no?”

Derpy groaned. “She’s not going to say no. Now come on, I’m sure it will take a bit longer for Octavia to get ready.”

Vinyl followed Derpy out through the tent’s flap into a large clearing surrounded by the chalky birch trees of the Whitetail Woods. Two rows of chairs were set up in front of an altar made from birch branches in the middle of the clearing.

To the right was the reception. Tables and more chairs were already set up, with a small area cleared and reserved for dancing. At the end of the party area was a long table where Lyra, Bon Bon, and Pinkie Pie were setting up the catering, and a towering wedding cake sat at the center of the table.

Vinyl took in a fresh breath. “This was a good location. It’s so peaceful, away from everything.”

“It was the first location that came to mind. There wasn’t much else available except for town hall. I figured you didn’t want your wedding in the center of town,” Derpy said.

“You were right. This is our day. I only want those closest to us to take part in it.”

“I’m happy to be here then, Vinyl.” Derpy smiled.

“How long is this going to take?”

“As long as it needs to,” Vidala said, doing her best to tie up Octavia’s mane. Most of it had been styled and pulled into a loose, intricate braid comprised of smaller braids. Her bangs arched over her forehead, straight and untouched.

“I’m happy you were able to come.”

Vidala smiled. “Anything for an old friend. That, and I thought maybe I could get another fifty bits out of Vinyl.”

Octavia struggled to hold herself still as she giggled. “So, what do you think of him?”

“What do I think?” Vidala raised her hoof to her chin. “He’s handsome, though he’s just as scrawny as me.”

“Vinyl was always small.” Octavia smiled. “Stallions do get flak if they date a mare bigger than they are, but I don’t think he cares about that kind of stuff.”

“After everything else that’s happened over the past year, I doubt it would even bother him,” Vidala said.

She continued braiding Octavia’s mane in relative silence. They were surrounded by the whistle of the wind through the birches and the light commotion of the ceremony being prepared outside.

“Did you see anybody else before I got here?” Octavia asked after some time.

“Not really. A few ponies from town. I think they’re Vinyl’s friends. You sound like you’re asking about someone specific, though.”

“It’s nothing.” Octavia shook her head, forcing Vidala to quickly complete a braid before it shook loose. “I invited Fancy Pants and his wife, and—” Octavia’s smile quickly faded. She’d sent her father a letter a month back but didn’t receive a response, nor did he show up this morning. “Well… other than those two, it’s mainly Vinyl’s friends.”

“Oh,” Vidala said quietly. What aren’t you telling me? Octavia didn’t mention any family members on either side. Maybe that was what was wrong. “On the bright side, though, I’m nearly done. Let’s try and finish this up.”

“You’d think Octavia would be ready by now,” Vinyl said, tapping his hoof while he took a long drag from his cigarette. Already dressed in his tuxedo, bow tie adjusted just so, Vinyl had been waiting for what felt like an hour. Vinyl ashed his cigarette and Derpy groaned, getting up and brushing the ashes off his lapel.

“It just takes time for us mares to get ready,” Derpy said with a wink.

“Yeah, yeah. You just gel your mane flat and throw on a pantsuit. You’re out the door in fifteen minutes like clockwork.” Vinyl shrugged, taking a tug on his cigarette.

“I’m a very efficient mare.”

“Vinyl!” Pinkie Pie yelled, bounding up to him with Lyra and Bon Bon in tow. “We’ve finished setting up the reception.”

“Awesome. Hey, thanks for coming.”

“Well, we still have to put the finishing touches on, then get ourselves dressed up nice. I know we have to be here to set up, but I wasn’t expecting an invitation to the actual ceremony,” Pinkie said.

“You’re my friends; why wouldn’t I?”

“We’re looking forward to the event, Vinyl,” Bon Bon called over her shoulder as they left to finish the preparations.

Pinkie Pie bounced off as Rarity and Braeburn came up after her.

“Thank you kindly for inviting us, Vinyl. Your mother would be proud to see where you are now,” Rarity said.

“No prob, and thanks.”

“And thanks for having me as your officiator. I’ve done a few in the past, but I’m not the first stallion on many lists. It means a lot,” Braeburn said.

“Hey,” Vinyl said, putting a hoof on his shoulder, “I’m looking forward to it.”

Rarity and Braeburn walked off as Fancy Pants and a long-legged white mare with a long pink mane walked up to him.

“Vinyl! Thank you for inviting us,” Fancy Pants said.

“It was Octavia’s idea, actually, but you're welcome.”

“Of course. I am guessing she is still getting prepared, I wanted to thank her for signing on, but that can wait. Also, I want to introduce you to my wife, Fleur.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Fleur said in a posh accent, which took Vinyl by surprise.

Vinyl nodded. “A pleasure to meet you too. We’re planning to start as soon as Octavia is ready, so please take your seats.”

They nodded and walked off. Dinky then emerged from behind Derpy.

“I handed everyone flowers, mom! They liked them!” Dinky exclaimed.

“Good! Now, be sure to sit with the adults. Mom is Vinyl’s best mare and I need to be by him throughout the ceremony,” Derpy said, smiling at her daughter.

“Okay!” Dinky looked up at Vinyl. “Vinyl?”

“Yes?”

“When you get married, can I call you Uncle Vinyl and Aunt Octi?”

“Sure.” Vinyl smiled.

“Yay! I’m going to see if I can hand out more flowers!” Dinky ran off and began approaching other ponies who had taken their seats.

“Hmm.” Vinyl looked at the attendees in the seating area.

“What’s up?” Derpy asked.

“None of Octavia’s family is here. I was hoping one of them would show up.”

“I guess some ponies never change.”

“Unfortunately.” Vinyl dropped his cigarette and crushed it out with his hoof.

Octavia emerged from her tent with Vidala beside her, wearing her shiny purple dress and her braided mane, which had been laced with orchids.

Vinyl and Derpy were still standing underneath the altar. He smiled and walked up to her, meeting in the center of the ceremony area.

“Do I look okay?” Octavia asked, crossing her forehooves. Her eyes were locked on Vinyl’s bow tie.

“You look beautiful. Are you ready?”

She smiled. “Yes. Let’s do it.”

“Okay.”

They stood side-by-side and walked up to the altar. Vidala stood to the left where Octavia joined her, and Derpy stood to the right, where Vinyl joined her. Braeburn stood in the center and coughed, taking in a deep breath before he started the ceremony.

“Mares and stallions, thank you for being here,” he said, his eyes glued to his tiny book. “We are gathered here today to see these two ponies, Vinyl Scratch and Octavia Melody, join together in marriage.”

Octavia looked into the small crowd of ponies sitting in front of them, trying to see if she could find any of her family. She did her best to keep a smile after seeing no signs of her father.

“Hey,” Vinyl whispered to Octavia. “You okay?”

“Vinyl and Octavia have determined they will love one another for the rest of their lives, and, no matter what hardships they face, will never break their union of trust and loyalty to one another.”

“My father isn’t here,” Octavia whispered back.

She then looked at the back of the forest, where an old, grey stallion emerged, waving off a forest guide that was beside him. He walked to the back corner of the ceremony area and sat down, all the while looking at Octavia and giving her a smile.

Octavia smiled back, then turned her attention to Vinyl again.

“Vinyl Scratch, do you take this mare into your life, until death do you part?”

“I do,” Vinyl replied, smiling at Octavia.

“And do you, Octavia Melody, take this stallion into your life, until death do you part?”

“I do, ” Octavia replied, returning her smile to Vinyl.

“And with that, I now pronounce these two husband and wife. Vinyl, you may ki—”

Before Braeburn was able to finish, Octavia pulled Vinyl into an embrace and swept him backward, holding him in her forelegs as she leaned down and forcefully pressed her lips to his. A few ponies in the attendance gasped, but others cheered and stomped their hooves.

Braeburn shrugged. “Well, I knew y’all two wanted this short, but alrighty.”

“That’s Octavia,” Vidala said with a grin.

Finished with their display, Vinyl and Octavia walked from the altar and down the small aisle. The other guests clapped and began moving over to the catering area. Before Vinyl and Octavia walked over there, they stopped next to the old stallion.

“Congratulations, Octavia, I’m proud of you,” he said, hugging her.

“Thank you.” She returned the hug, tears coming from her eyes.

“This is your dad?” Vinyl asked.

“Yes.” Octavia pulled away from her father, wiping her tears away with a smile.

He smiled back at his daughter, then turned to Vinyl, looking him over for the first time. “Hm. You seem like a fine young stallion. It’s a pity Majesty didn’t want to meet you.” He extended a hoof to Vinyl. “I trust you will take care of my daughter well, Mr. Scratch.”

“I will, sir.”

After the ceremony, everyone was enjoying themselves in the catering area, socializing between one another with a few dancing in the center. Vinyl and Octavia sat next to each other at a large table, receiving their congratulations earlier from all their guests.

“Having fun?” Octavia asked, snuggling herself up against Vinyl.

“Yeah, but I wish one more pony could have come to see this.”

“Who?”

“My mother.”

“Maybe we can visit her. She is only a few minutes away from here.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Vinyl and Octavia waved at everyone, letting them know they would be back shortly.

They walked through the forest trail and back up the hill nearby to the grave where Claret rested. After a few minutes of walking, Vinyl and Octavia arrived at her tombstone.

“Hey Mom, we’re married!” Vinyl smiled at his mother’s tombstone. “I really wish you could have been with us and seen it. It was beautiful. But, the least I can do is let you see your son on his wedding day.” He took a deep breath. Unlike his last visit, he was happy this time. “A few ponies mentioned how proud you would have been of me, and I think they are right. So, thanks. Thanks for making this day possible.”

“Vinyl, look.” Octavia tugged at Vinyl, pointing his direction to the sun setting in the distance. “It’s beautiful.”

“Sure is,” he said, walking away from his mother's grave and sitting on a nearby bench with Octavia.

“Tavi.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for sticking with me. I know it couldn’t have been easy sometimes during all these months.”

Octavia looked at Vinyl with a furrowed brow and snorted. “I proposed to you, silly. Did you really think I didn’t know you were trouble back then?” Octavia smiled, leaning her head against Vinyl’s. “You being a little bit different is not going to change how I feel about you...” She turned and kissed Vinyl lightly on the cheek. “Besides, I know you would do the same for me. Wouldn’t you?”

“Of course.”

“I love you, Vinyl.”

“I love you too.” Vinyl kissed the top of Octavia’s head.

They remained seated on the bench, watching the sun go down. Vinyl then dug through his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes to find it empty.

“Do you want to get some more on the way back?” Octavia asked.

“No.” He placed the empty pack in his pocket. “Actually, I think I want to quit.”

Octavia gave him a kiss, and he returned the same.

They leaned on each other as the sun disappeared over the horizon. And as the darkness enveloped them, they kept each other warm as they slept under the stars.

fin

Author's Note

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine, Bad_Seed_72 and Proper Noun for helping with this chapter.

Special thanks to all my editors Bad_Seed_72, Furion, Proper Noun, Purple Pegasus and unparchedbutter for helping with earlier chapters. My biggest thanks to my editor and partner Madeline L-Equine for helping me with every chapter, without them this fic would not be what it is. To my longtime readers and everyone else, thank you for reading Music to His Ears. I hope y'all enjoyed it and stick around for more in the future.

-Lady Froey