The room reeked of wine and spilled ink; the sound of a feathered pen scribbling hastily against a sheet of paper broke the silence of the room. A single mare sat at her desk, feverishly trying to write something new for a concert coming up. Crumpled papers littered the floor near the trash can, showing that she had spent a large amount of time writing.
“No, no, NO! Wrong, wrong, WRONG!” the mare snapped as she took the paper and crumpled it up, tossing it at a nearby trashcan. “That will not do! The melodies are off and the crowd will surely not like it! Ugh, why can’t I make music like I used to!?”
The saddened mare brought her hooves up to her tired eyes and did her best to rub away the fatigue. She wasn’t sure how long exactly she had sat at her desk, or how many glasses of wine she went through, but knew the hour was late and the glasses were many. In a spite of anger, she tossed the pen to the floor and looked to the bottom drawer of her desk for something to ease her mind. With shaky hooves, she opened it up; her brief onslaught of anger vanished and her dizzy eyes sparkled as the purple bottle shone in the dim lighting.
“Look at me, shifting my attitude quickly over a bottle of wine,” the mare pouted to herself as she pulled the bottle up and held it close to her chest. “How lowly and uncouth of me. Drowning my anger and frustrations just so I can appease to a bunch of high uptight noble ponies for money and fame.”
Her hooves were quick as she grabbed the tip of the bottle and with a single twist of the cap she let it fall to the table. With the cap out of her way, she quickly brought the bottle to her lips and chugged the succulent wine down; a trickle of liquid fell down the side of her face, showing she didn’t have proper use of her mouth. She didn’t care. Once her palette was sated, she pulled the bottle away with a deep, anguished sigh.
“Gods, I needed that,” she spoke in a single breath before resting her head down on the table. “Now I need a smoke.”
Putting her bottle on the table, the mare felt around the desk area, trying to find her pack of smokes without wanting to pull herself up and look for them. She struggled for a few seconds at trying to find the square package, but just as she was ready to get up, her hoof caught onto it. Thankfully for her, the lighter she used rested in the packaging, allowing her to quickly open it up, grab the lighter, pull out a smoke, and light it up. Not once did she pull her head up as she lit it and took a few deep breaths in, and not once did she care that a few strands of her once elegant black mane had singed from the flames.
“Come on, Tavi. Pull yourself back up and try again,” she spoke to herself, wanting to take another stab at writing a song. “Your fans live for your music… all fifty two of them.”
The mare sulked deeper into her chair and a muffled moan of despair played out into the desk. Noticing her smoke was starting to ash at the tip, she had no choice but to pull herself up and face the already full ashtray at her side. Once she was up, she did her best to ignore the room around her. It was hard considering she was raised to be a ‘prim and proper’ mare. She would never wallow in her filth and always cleaned up before she went to sleep.
Just tonight.
Her bed was disheveled, the sheets all tangled up from nights of restless sleeping. Bow ties and show garments littered the floor like commoner clothes would; the red carpet underneath reeked of booze and cheap perfumes. Along with that, empty bottles of brandy laid strewn on the floor. There were several, showing that she had quickly descended into alcoholism. She hated seeing her room the way it was, but she never had any desire to clean it. She had shut out lots of things for her love for music, and even if she denied it, it was starting to show on her.
Grabbing her smoke, the mare sighed deeply before she tapped it gently against the filthy glass on her desk. Clear of any tip debris, she brought it back to her mouth and sucked in another large amount of toxic fumes, hoping it would calm her down. It did for the most part, but it only seemed to make her depression worse.
“I’ve written so many pieces.” The mare leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling with a blank look in her eyes. “Some have brought even the most popular ponies to tears while some brought complete silence and awe. Now I can’t even get a decent amount of clopping at the end of a piece.”
She brought her hooves up to her disheveled mane and she ran them back against it in an attempt to figure out what she was doing wrong. It couldn’t have been her. Her skill with the cello was impeccable, perfect, without equal. It had to be the ponies she dealt with. Maybe they were so used to her style that she was starting to get boring to them.
“Impossible. My… my style isn’t boring!” Her anger peaked back up as she looked forward and slammed her hoof on the table. “If it was boring then why isn’t anyone telling me!? They always say stuff like ‘Good show, Octavia. Another truly outstanding performance’ or even ‘Oh my word, Miss Octavia, your talent with creating and playing music is quite unique.’ They have got to be lying to me. If so, then why am I selling less and less tickets while other half-arsed musicians are getting more and more praise?”
Blinking her eyes, she noticed they were starting to water up. Her troubled mind ran in circles with all the emotions she was feeling. Anger, bitterness, sadness, regrets of drinking and smoking too quickly and too much. It all seemed to hit her at once, driving her fatigued mind to throb with pain.
“Pull yourself together dammit! Your next song will attract thousands of ponies!” she said to herself as she closed her eyes and rubbed her hooves against them in an effort to drown out the pain. “It has to! I’m so perfect I… I-I need another drink.”
With her eyes still closed, the mare blindly reached for the bottle of wine she opened minutes before. Forgetting exactly where she put it, she felt around but gasped as her hoof swiped the side of it, causing the bottle to spill on the ground.
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” She swore endlessly as the remaining contents of it spilled on the floor, staining the carpet even more. Quickly reaching down for it, the mare hoped a few drops were left inside just so she could drink something. When she noticed but a few, she quickly brought the bottle to her lips and waited patiently for them to flow into her mouth. Once she got the last bit, she grew more upset that she was still thirsty and, in a fit of rage, she threw the bottle across the room. The bottle hit the wall before it broke apart with a deafening shatter; the broken bits of glass fell to the floor.
Staring at the mess, the mare started to hyperventilate before she quickly noticed her smoke was almost out. Lifting her hooves up to her mouth, she noticed they were undeniably shaky and she had a hard time taking the smoke in.
“Pull yourself together already!” she yelled at herself as she slammed her hooves on the table and spat the smoke at her ashtray. For a second it landed inside of it, only to bounce out and rest against the oak desk. She left it where it was, knowing it wasn’t going to stay lit enough to burn the wood. Instead, she reached up to her neck and grabbed the bowtie she was still wearing and unstrapped it, finding it a bit more easier to breath. It hung loosely around her neck and she was ready to toss it to the floor. What stopped her was a sniffle she produced and the feeling of her eyes watering back up again.
“Why can’t I do anything right?” she pouted as she rested against her chair. “I can’t write music and I can’t please my audience anymore. I can’t keep my emotions in check and I can’t even stop myself from spilling my god damn wine that I spent my last bits on!”
Finding her mouth starting to get dry, she licked her parched lips and opted for another smoke. Looking back at her desk, the mare quickly grabbed one and put it in her mouth before grabbing the lighter.
“Least nothing else can go wrong tonight,” she pouted, doing her best to hold back her sniffles.
Of course she was wrong, and as she flicked the lighter several times, she knew it had ran its lifespan at her last smoke. She held the dead lighter in place for a few seconds, letting it sink in that it had indeed gotten worse. She wanted to get mad and toss it on the floor, but all she could do was smile and cry. Why smile? Because it was disturbingly humorous to see how bad her life was getting.
Thump!
Octavia sighed deeply and knew the night was about to get even worse.
“Hey Tavi! You alright in there?” A rather chipper and tomboyish voice spoke out from behind the closed door.
“I’m having a rough night, Vinyl. I wish to be left alone!” Octavia snapped as she spat out her cigarette and watched it roll across the table.
“You sure you want to be alone? I heard the sound of glass breaking, so I got worried.” Vinyl’s voice turned into that of real concern, causing Octavia to look back at the mess across the room.
“I’m… I’m fine! I just dropped my bottle,” Octavia answered back as she tossed her lighter at the trash can.
“Yeah, I don’t believe you just dropped the bottle,” Vinyl replied as the handle started to jiggle. “I can tell you threw it at the wall, considering my room is on the other side.”
Octavia blushed and looked away from the mess, momentarily forgetting that her roommate had a room on the other side of the wall.
“Can I please come in?” Vinyl asked again, not wanting to enter without proper permission.
“Ugh, fine!” Octavia snapped as she looked back at the door and saw the pale face of her friend peeking in.
The door opened and Octavia winced as the blinding light from the hallway made her room brighter. Though she couldn’t see the body of her roommate, she knew her well enough to know what she looked like.
“What does it look like you pompous filly!?” Octavia snapped in a drunken outburst. “Unlike you, I can’t ‘remix’ a song or produce the ‘wubs’ as you call it.”
“Hey now, there’s no reason to get violent,” Vinyl replied in a calm tone as she walked further into the room. “I just asked.”
Octavia glowered at Vinyl for a few seconds before her ears drooped down and her expression flattened. She knew she had no reason to voice an outburst like that and was ready to make up for it.
“S-sorry. I’ve had a rough night like you said.” Her voice lowered a few decibels and Octavia crossed her hooves on the desk before resting her head against them. “I can’t seem to write anything good anymore. My pieces are good in my eyes but the lack of ponies at my showings tells me I must be doing something wrong.”
“Maybe you’re being too hard on yourself when you write,” Vinyl replied as she looked back at the trash can. “I’ve heard your music when you practice. You seem too concerned with pleasing the audience rather than just pleasing yourself.”
“B-but I need to please my audience!” Octavia pouted. “If they don’t like it then how can I!?”
“Octavia, you need to balance both sides of it,” Vinyl spoke as she moved up and put her hoof on Octavia’s shoulder. “If you only write to please the audience then you ruin the feeling for yourself, and if you write for just you, the fans see it in the way you play.”
“But I can’t!” Octavia slammed her hooves into the desk, frustrated that she was losing her touch. “I can’t do anything right for that matter!”
Without warning, Vinyl suddenly lurched forward and spun Octavia around to face her. Unsure of what to say, Octavia was suddenly surprised as her friend wrapped her forelegs around her body and hugged her tightly.
“Hey, I’m here for you, Octi,” Vinyl spoke in a calm tone as she whispered into the mare’s neck. “Come on, you have a lot on your chest, get it off and let me listen.”
Feeling her friend hug her tightly, Octavia sniffled loudly as she felt the need to spill her guts out. She had her frustrations bottled up for so long that, when the words started to come forward, she couldn’t stop herself from crying.
“I’m a failure, dammit! I used to be a star in the music industry, but now I’m just a dead beat with a drinking problem!” Octavia sobbed as she wrapped her hooves around Vinyl. “I can’t write to save my live, nor can I produce music that ponies even want to hear anymore! I’m mad that I can’t catch a break anymore and I just want people to love me again! It’s… so hard to be a failure, Vinyl, especially when your parents raised you to overcome a stupid, lowly status of being an earth pony in a unicorn dominated society! Y-you don’t understand the burden I deal with being an earth pony born to two unicorns. You don’t understand the pressure I deal with just to make them happy! It’s just not fair for me! It’s just not fair!!”
Vinyl stayed silent and knew Octavia suffered from the frustration of society standards set by ponies. Though she was a unicorn herself, Vinyl knew most unicorns stared down upon earth ponies or even unicorns that weren’t ‘proper and prim’. It was a shared frustration and Vinyl could only sympathize that much more with Octavia.
“It’s okay, Octi. I know how you feel,” Vinyl spoke as she held the mare tight. “But I understand it’s much tougher for you to bear with, but you shouldn’t beat yourself up over it. Octi, you’re one of the few earth ponies that has made it big over the years and, occasionally, all musicians hit a rut in their careers. You just gotta fight through it.”
Octavia listened and did her best to hold back her sniffles. While she had tears running down her eyes, she did her best to not cry anymore and clenched her eyes as tight as they could go.
“But I want to get through it now!” Octavia sobbed loudly. “It feels like I’ve been stuck in it for so long that I doubt I’ll ever escape it!”
“These things take time, Octi. You just have to fight it and stay strong. You’re closer than you think, you just need to stay strong a bit longer,” Vinyl spoke as she pulled away from the sobbing mare.
Once she was able to face her, Octavia saw the caring smile on Vinyl’s face and felt embarrassed. Here she was, sobbing like a filly and showing weakness to her roommate, something her parents taught her to never do. Yet, as ashamed as she felt for being weak, she felt… at ease with herself. Taking a deep breath and wiping away the tears at her eyes, she felt… lighter for some reason, like a burden was lifted off her shoulders in a way.
“Come on, Octi. You’ve had a long night. Why not get some sleep and try again tomorrow?” Vinyl asked, wanting to help her friend to her bed.
“I… I agree,” Octavia stuttered quietly as she pulled herself out of the chair and felt the alcohol rush to her head, making her lose her balance. “Gods, I feel so pathetic.”
“It’s alright, I got ya,” Vinyl spoke out as she used her own body to support the wobbly mare. “Let’s get you to the bed.”
As Octavia walked with her body leaning against Vinyl’s, part of her didn’t want to lose that soothing sense of comfort that was radiating from Vinyl’s being. Octavia didn’t want to be alone at her lowest point and, as she climbed into the bed, she turned to her silent friend.
“Could you…” Octavia started to ask as her head rested against the pillow and her vision spun slightly. “Could you… stay with me for a bit? I-I don’t want to be alone.”
“Don’t worry, Octi, I’ll stick by ya for a bit,” Vinyl replied with a smile as she hopped up and laid down beside her friend. “I won’t leave you alone.”
Feeling the same comforting foreleg drape over her shoulder along with the feeling of a blanket covering her shaky body. Octavia felt herself relax and, letting her eyes rest, she closed them to stop her vision from spinning.
“S-sorry you have to endure my pathetic attitude, Vinyl,” Octavia spoke softly, her voice no longer in sobs.
“No worries, Octi. Besides, what kind of housemate would I be if I didn’t hear you out,” Vinyl replied as she snuggled close and nuzzled Octavia’s mane. “We’re friends, and though sometimes you drive me up the wall, you’re a very nice mare to live with. Certainly better to live with than nearly everyone else in this city.”
Octavia said nothing, the small praiseful comment doing wonders for her low self-esteem and causing her to smile. With her confidence slightly restored, Octavia relaxed her body and felt her mind starting to drift.
“I’ll stick by you if you need me,” Vinyl spoke out as she brought her hoof up to Octavia’s mane and rubbed it gently. “But try to get some sleep for me alright?”
“Okay,” Octavia answered back softly and let the massaging hoof guide her into a deep slumber.
It didn’t take her long and in mere minutes she had passed out. Once she was out, Vinyl smiled and hugged the mare close to her body before giving her a quick kiss on her head.
“I won’t leave you tonight as well,” Vinyl whispered softly as she snuggled her body into the bed in order to join her partner in slumber.
Author's Note
Every image has a story behind it. When I first saw the initial image, I wanted to write a story behind it. This is that story.
