The Sun Will Shine Again

Chapters

(0) Prologue (revised)
(1) The Dawn of a New Day (revised)
(2) Music as Life (revised)
(3) A Ride Through the Countryside
(4) Behind the Sunglasses
(5) What Red Eyes Reveal

(0) Prologue (revised)

On the motorway between Manehatten and Canterlot, Saturday December 10th, 2011 10:27pm

It was a cold, dark night, as Andanté and Caprice Scratch drove down the motorway towards Canterlot. It had snowed the day prior and, having been ploughed that morning, the four-lane motorway had a couple of feet of the white powder piled up on the sides of the road. The couple had just come from hosting their annual benefit concert in Manehatten. The benefit, created to help the poor and less fortunate of Equestria, was a smashing success this year, raising a record of almost five million bits.

“It really is a shame Vi couldn’t make it this year,” Andanté said, referring to their 24-year-old daughter, Vinyl Scratch.

“Yes, she would have been thrilled with the outcome!” Caprice replied.

“I want to try to convince her to be the master of ceremonies next year; I’d like for her to take a more active role in the foundation. After all, the record company, the club, and the foundation will all be hers, someday,” the man said.

“Sweetheart, that’s a wonderful idea. She’s shown enough interest, perhaps she’s just been waiting for us to push her in that direction.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” the man responded.

“With the money we raised tonight, we should be able to build and fund at least two more homeless shelters in both Canterlot and Manehatten,” the elegant woman said.

“Yes, and a couple soup kitchens in each city as well.” With a genuine smile, Andanté reached his hand over to grasp hers. “Think of all the people the foundation will be able to help in the next year!”

The day’s melting had coated the motorway in a light sheen of water, which pooled in the depressions in the pavement. Because of this, not long after Celestia’s sun had set, the water on the road froze and the motorway became very slick.

As they were talking, the large black SUV they were driving hit a small patch of black ice and they felt the front end slip to the side just a bit. Fortunately, the heavy vehicle was equipped with good snow tires and handled well on its own, being designed with just these types of conditions in mind. The man let off of the accelerator and gently corrected the steering to get them traveling straight again.

Caprice’s grip tightened on her husband’s hand. “Careful dear, it seems the motorway has frozen over some since this afternoon.”

Andanté put on his turn signal and began moving to the side of the road. “I think pulling over and locking in the front hubs might be a good idea. I can’t imagine the conditions get any better between here and Canterlot.”

He slowly decelerated, rolling to a stop just off of the road. He turned on his hazard lights and opened the door to get out.

“I’ll get this side,” Caprice offered.

“Nonsense, dear. You stay in here where it’s warm; I’ll only be a moment.”

“Ever the gentleman. Whoever said chivalry is dead hasn’t met you,” Caprice said with a loving smile. “Just one of the many reasons why I love you.”

He gave a bright, warm smile to his wife. “It’s no less than you deserve. I love you, too, my sun and moon.”

He shut the door and knelt down at the driver’s side front tire and rotated the hub switch into the “locked” position. Then he went around to the passenger side and did the same with the front tire on that side. Finished with his task, he stood up and went back around to the driver’s side and got in.

“Goodness, it’s bloody cold out there!”

“Language, dear,” his wife said in mock exasperation.

The man just chuckled and put the shift lever into ‘drive’. “Alright, let’s get home!”

Andanté looked down at the center console to adjust the thermostat as he maneuvered the SUV back onto the motorway. Just as he got back into the right-most lane, his wife looked up and screamed “Andy!”

Andanté Scratch had just enough time to look up and see a set of headlights come right at them at a high rate of speed, and then everything went black.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Sergeant Stalwart Defense and Corporal Swift Strike were the second unit of Equestria State Guards on the scene of the accident, having come from Canterlot. The first unit on scene was already on the motorway, having been dispatched earlier that evening from Manehatten to patrol that side of the motorway.

Stalwart Defense walked up to the ranking Guard from the other unit, who happened to be another Sergeant. “So, what have we got?”

“Well,” the Guard began, a grim look on his face, “it appears to be a head-on collision caused by a drunk driver and adverse road conditions. No survivors. The current working theory is that the black SUV was heading from Manehatten towards Canterlot and the white truck was travelling in the opposite direction. We followed the tracks of the SUV back a ways and they pulled off for some reason. My guess is that they stopped to lock in the hubs and engage the four-wheel drive. After they pulled back onto the road, the white truck crossed the center divide from the Manehatten-bound side and hit the SUV head-on.”

“You said one of them was driving drunk?” the Sergeant from Canterlot asked.

“That’s right,” the Guard from Manehatten said. “The white truck had a single occupant; white male, mid-40’s, no ID on him. It’s quite obvious he was drunk, as he smells like a rum distillery. However, we’ll have to have a tox-screen done on him to confirm that, of course. There were two occupants in the SUV, a man and a woman. IDs identify them as Andanté and Caprice Scratch, of Canterlot. We found a programme in the woman’s purse from a benefit concert that was held in Manehatten tonight. The couple in the SUV are listed as the benefactors for the foundation.”

Stalwart Defense sighed and shook his head, realising that the two apparent victims were high profile people. It’s going to be a long night.

“Alright,” he said, “I’ll get on the line back to Canterlot and start working up the next of kin.”

At that time a coroner’s van pulled up and got right to work on the scene, taking care of the deceased.

Canterlot, Sunday December 11th 1:30am

As people gathered their coats tighter around them and hurried past, they could hear the thump of a heavy bass beat coming from beyond the front doors of the Prancing Pony, Canterlot’s premier high-class nightclub.

DJ Pon3, the stage name of Vinyl Scratch, perhaps the hottest young DJ in Equestria, was almost through blasting her enraptured audience through a universe of sound. The music was deafening, the lights were blinding, and the atmosphere was electric. She was deep in her element.

She bobbed her head to the easy beat, building it up slow. She could feel the crowd’s anticipation, their growing energy as they jumped, swayed, and grinded; they knew what was coming. Maybe not exactly when, but they knew it was coming. She continued to build their anticipation with the beat, until all of a sudden the music and the lights died all at once, the only things visible were the random glowsticks people were wearing or holding. Then, into the darkness, she screamed in a loud, but musical voice, “DROP THAT SHIT!” At the same time she slammed her hand down onto a button that released a bone-rattling bass beat from the speakers and set off a dazzling light display.

Nice job, Neon, she thought, as she went back to working the knobs and switches of her turntable. This might be your best work yet.

But, the night had wore on, as it is wont to do. There was one last song in the set, and then they would be on their own to come down from the musical high that DJ Pon3 would leave them in.

She let the current track fade out and looked down from her booth to grins, shouts and thunderous applause.

“Thank you, everyone! Once again, I am DJ Pon3, your captain and your guide on this musical journey through wonder and mystery!” she exclaimed. “But, it’s getting late and I need to sleep sometime. Besides, it’s Equestrian law that I kick you out at 2:00am!” This was met with groans of disappointment. “Aww, I love you all, but not that much!” she said with a smile and a laugh.

“Before I go, however, I have one last song to leave you with, one of my personal favourites! You’ve all been amazing; goodnight and sweet dreams, everybody!” she said as she cued up the final song of her set, and the crowd moved to the music once again.

She set her machine to go into standby when the track ended and made a stealthy retreat to the back of the stage.

40 minutes later

After she finished up her set at her father’s nightclub, Vinyl Scratch worked on coiling up the cords of her turntable and putting her records back in their sleeves, packing everything up for the night. She moved a stray lock of her wild, two-toned blue hair that had fallen in front of her eyes as Neon Lights walked up from back stage and gave her a solid pat on the back.

“That was a sick set tonight, Scratch. You really had everyone lost in time and space.”

“Thanks, Neon.” Vinyl stood up and stretched out a bit, giving the man a smirk. “You outdid yourself with the light effects, though, so I guess I can’t take all of the credit. You finished packing up?”

“Yep, time to go home and crash for a bit. I’ve got a long day planned with the girlfriend; it’s our one year anniversary, so I pulled out all the stops and I need to get some sleep if I’m going to make it through the day.”

“That’s great! Hope it all goes as planned. See you Thursday, then.”

Neon started walking towards the double doors that led to the street. “Thanks! Take it easy, Scratch.”

Vinyl felt a chill as Neon Lights opened the door and let in a gust of freezing air. The door closed, and she was alone in the club. She took off her signature, purple sunglasses and rubbed tired, ruby-red eyes. She was looking forward to her own luxurious bed, with its down pillows and comforter. While Vinyl was one of the most prominent DJs in Canterlot and made enough money to live lavishly, she didn’t flaunt it. One area she didn’t spare any expense, however, was her bed. She had figured out long ago that the expensive mattress, high thread count, cotton or satin sheets, and down comforter & pillows were well worth the cost. She didn’t have anything planned the next day except a late lunch with her parents, so she was looking forward to sleeping in.

That night was the night of her parent’s annual benefit concert in Manehatten to raise money to help the poor and less fortunate of Equestria. Vinyl adored her parents, two of the kindest, most loving, generous, and hardest working people she had ever known. She normally went with them to the fundraiser, but was hired to spin for one of the royals, Prince Blueblood’s, coming of age party. She normally did everything she could to avoid the pretentious nobility of Canterlot, but after she played at Princess Cadance and Captain Shining Armor’s wedding reception, Blueblood refused to have any other DJ play at the club that night. Plus, the amount she was offered was astronomical, and she couldn’t say no. Thus, she was looking forward to lunch with her parents the next day and finding out how the fundraiser went.

With a tired sigh, Vinyl placed her purple shades back over her eyes and bent down once more, tossing the coiled up wires into a box. She picked up the box and headed towards the back of the stage to the equipment closet, where she placed it on a shelf. As she was pushing the box into place, she heard a loud knock on the double doors at the front of the club.

“What now…” She sighed and grumbled to herself. Neon must have forgot to grab his bag or something. She walked across the stage to the stairs at the side that led down into a hallway and ended with a door that read “Employees Only”. She opened it and stepped through as more loud, impatient knocking sounded on the front entrance. She opened the door just enough to find two uniformed Equestria State Guards- a salt and pepper haired, grizzled veteran and a tall, sandy haired youth who couldn’t have been more than a year out of the academy -standing outside.

“Ms. Vinyl Scratch?” the older of the two asked.

“Yes? What can I do for you?”

“I’m Sergeant Stalwart Defense and this is my partner, Corporal Swift Strike, of the Equestria State Guard. May we come in, ma’am?”

“What’s this about?” Vinyl asked, beginning to feel a pit of anxiety form in her stomach.

“It would be better if we speak inside,” the Guard replied, knowing that the freezing early morning air was not the ideal environment for the news he had to impart.

“Alright, then,” Vinyl said, her voice anxious, opening the door wider so the Guards could enter the club. They entered and took seats at the nearest table, gesturing for Vinyl to join them. She looked between the two Guards with a sinking feeling and sat down.

“Are you the daughter of Andanté and Caprice Scratch?” the older of the two asked.

Vinyl began to take quick, shallow breaths as her anxiety over the situation began to take a prominent hold over her mind.

Her hidden eyes filled with panic as she began to look erratically between the two Guards. With a voice filled with caution and apprehension, she uttered a quiet, “Yes?”

Stalwart Defense steeled himself as best he could in order to give the woman the terrible news. Celestia, give me strength. She’s no older than my daughter. How would she take it if Swift had to tell her that I was killed in the line of duty? That her last living parent wouldn’t ever be around again? I hope this poor, young woman has someone who will be there for her and comfort her...

“Ms. Scratch”- he paused, searching for the right words to convey such a difficult message and doing his best to maintain eye contact, the urge to avoid watching her fall into anguish and despair great -”I’m deeply sorry to have to inform you that at around 10:30 this evening, your parents were hit by a drunk driver on the motorway while on their way home from Manehatten.” He paused again, collecting himself to give her the rest of the tragic news. “Your parents and the driver that hit them were all killed instantly. I’m very sorry, Ms. Scratch.” The Guard finally tore his gaze away, not wanting to watch the young woman’s heart break as her world came crashing down around her.

Vinyl’s world shattered. She ceased being able to process anything, unable to hear anything except a ringing in her ears after the Guard had said “killed instantly”. Shaking her head from side to side in denial, Vinyl’s vision blurred as tears spilled from her eyes, and she felt numb. It must be a mistake. They can’t be gone. They just can’t be!

She brought her hand up to her mouth in disbelief. With an anguished cry, she jumped up and staggered away from the table, falling to her knees on the floor, her hands grabbing and flinging her shades away, then covering her face. She leaned against a chair at a nearby table, sobbing out her grief.

The two Guards looked at each other sadly. The younger of the two Guards walked over and knelt beside Vinyl, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Miss, do you have any other family?”

She became silent for a moment as the realisation dawned on her that, aside from her girlfriend and her best friend, she was now completely alone in the world. Her breath hitched and she began sobbing again with renewed vigor. “No,” she wailed and shook her head.

Both Guards closed their eyes and felt immense pity for the distraught young woman. Swift Strike composed himself, which was not an easy feat given the situation, and continued. “Do you have anyone that will come and stay with you?”

Between gasps of breath and heartbreaking sobs, she managed a choked yes and began to reach for her cellphone.

“Alright, we’ll stay with you until they get here.”

Vinyl paid the Guard no heed, fumbling with her phone and scrolling through her contacts until, through tear blurred vision, she managed to find the one she was looking for and pressed her thumb to the screen over the name. She held the phone to her ear in limp hands, waiting for her girlfriend to pick up. The phone rang twice before a confident, slightly masculine voice said: “Hey, you’ve reached Lightning’s voicemail, which means I’m probably pullin’ G’s or catchin’ Z’s, so leave me a message and I’ll get back to you ASAP!” Vinyl pressed the “end call” button, knowing Lightning was home and momentarily confused as to why her girlfriend didn’t answer when Vinyl needed her most, but unable to follow any line of coherent thought.

With renewed grief and despair, she went back into her contacts and found the one for her best friend, selecting the contact and again placing the phone to her ear, listening until a groggy feminine voice answered with a croaked, “Hello?”

“Lyra…” Vinyl sobbed.

The woman at the other end was immediately alert, sensing Vinyl’s distress. “Vinyl?! What’s wrong, love?”

“They’re gone, Lyr. Mom and dad are gone; they’re dead!” Vinyl wailed, hysteric.

Lyra’s face fell in shock and horror for her best friend, and she didn’t waste any more time. “Where are you? At the Pony?” Lyra asked, knowing she was scheduled to play a set that night.

Vinyl replied with a pitiful “Yes.”

“I’ll be there in five,” Lyra said, then ended the call.

(1) The Dawn of a New Day (revised)

Vinyl’s flat, Saturday April 20th, 2013 - 16 months after the accident…

Vinyl awoke with a start to the bass beat of her cellphone on the nightstand on the left side of her bed. With a groan, she lifted her head and looked at the clock, to see that it was about half past noon. With an aggravated growl she grabbed her phone and looked at the screen to see who she was going to be shouting at for waking her. She slid her thumb across the screen to unlock it and hit the green “answer” button. “What the bloody hell do you want, Heartstrings?” she snarled, irritation heavy in her voice.

“I want you to open your front door!” Lyra responded, impatience heavy in her voice.

“Ugh, what are you even doing here?! You know what? Nevermind; I’ll be right there.” The annoyed DJ ended the call with a vexed sigh and slipped out of her bed, instantly missing the caress of the satin sheets against her bare skin. She pulled a pair of running shorts and a sports bra from her dresser to throw on before leaving her bedroom and heading to the door of her high-rise flat. She opened it and gave a half-hearted glare at her mint-green and white haired friend.

“Forgot your key, again?”

“Maybe…” Lyra replied in a sheepish tone.

Vinyl moved aside and held the door open so Lyra could enter. She closed the door and followed her friend into the living area. Lyra looked across the expansive flat to the open kitchen area and saw an empty whiskey bottle and several empty beer bottles on the counter next to the sink. She knew that if she went into Vinyl’s room she’d find a bottle of painkillers, likely beside another empty bottle of beer. With a sigh she turned back to her friend.

“You look like hell, Vinyl. Did you drink yourself silly again last night?”

Vinyl looked away, the guilt making her unable to meet her friend’s gaze and the concern she knew she’d see. “So what if I did?” she responded lamely.

Lyra stepped closer and reached up to place her hands on either side of her friend’s face affectionately. “Look at me,” she said, causing Vinyl to turn and look at Lyra in her golden eyes. “I love you, dumbass, and I worry about you. I know you still hurt, but this isn’t helping you! It’s a bandaid on bullet wound, and a poor one at that! And if you pull a stunt like you did last year, I’ll kill you myself, so help me,” Lyra finished with a patient smile.

“Don’t worry, Lyr; that’s not going to happen again,” Vinyl said consolingly, reaching up and removing Lyra’s hands from her face. She let them drop and wrapped her arms around the younger woman. Lyra returned the embrace, breathing a sigh of relief as she reaffirmed her trust in her friend.

After a while, Vinyl released her hold on the woman. “So, what are you doing here anyway?”

“I wanted to invite you to lunch with Bon Bon, Spitfire, Rainbow Dash and myself. We’re going to Jamie’s diner and I know how much you like the burgers and shakes there.”

“Well, I’m awake now, and could use some food, so I might as well. Besides, I haven’t seen Spitfire in months. The Wonderbolts are taking a break from training, I take it?” Vinyl asked.

“Yep. Their summer tour starts at the Summer Sun Celebration, so they have a little time off,” Lyra replied.

The DJ headed off toward her room and called over her shoulder. “Alright, just let me throw some actual clothes on and we can get going.”

While Vinyl was making herself presentable, Lyra thought about what she could do to help her best friend get over the loss of her parents and kick her drug and alcohol addiction.

What Vinyl reallyneeds is a good girlfriend. However, Lyra knew that after what Lightning Dust had done to Vinyl, getting her to open up and get to know someone enough to lead to a date was going to be difficult.

Vinyl’s problems didn’t simply begin and end with the sudden and tragic death of her parents. When Vinyl needed her the most, the one person Vinyl was closest to and cared about the most had abused and completely abandoned her. Lightning Dust couldn’t be bothered to answer the phone when Vinyl called her the night her parents died. Then, after only a week of “dealing” with the distraught and grieving woman, during which she had been uncaring and unsympathetic at best and psychologically abusive at worst, she had said it was too much to deal with, that Vinyl was a lost cause, and left her. Her girlfriend abusing and abandoning her at her most vulnerable time was more than Vinyl could take, and it truly broke her, leading her down a very dark path for a while.

Lyra was bloody well going to try to get Vinyl to open up and date again, though, and she thought she had just the right girl in mind. Even if that girl didn’t yet have any experience with women, Lyra was sure that after spending some time with the sexy, confident, and enigmatic Vinyl Scratch, the girl wouldn’t be able to help but be attracted to her. And maybe Vinyl could help the cellist with a problem of her own.

About the time Lyra finished her thoughts, Vinyl came walking down the hallway dressed in a long sleeved shirt, a pair of blue jeans, athletic shoes and her signature, purple sunglasses, pulling a brush through her wild, two-tone, blue hair.

Even though it was pretty warm outside, the DJ still needed to wear long clothing, as she had a rare condition known as Albinism that left her with unusually pale skin, which was very sensitive to sunlight, and vibrant, ruby-red eyes.

“Ready?” Lyra asked.

Vinyl walked over to the table in the living area, grabbing her wallet and her keys as she passed it. “Yep!”

Lyra headed down the hallway ahead of Vinyl, opened the door and stepped out--Vinyl right behind her. The DJ locked and closed the door, and the two women headed towards the lift. The ride down to the parking garage was silent, both women lost in their own thoughts. The elevator reached the parking garage and the women headed towards Lyra’s blue coupé. They got into the car and Lyra pulled out, heading toward the exit of the parking garage.

After they had left the garage and were on the main thoroughfare, Lyra broke the silence. “So are you spinning at the Pony tonight?” Since it was a Saturday, she knew there was a good chance that the DJ would be, but she wanted to be certain.

“Yeah, I’m playing a set tonight. Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Lyra began, “the Orchestra has been putting in long hours and a lot of effort preparing for the Summer Sun Celebration concert at the palace, and I think it would be good for some of us to let off a little steam and enjoy a night out. I’m going to invite a few of my friends from the Orchestra to come out tonight after practice and I thought that a night out at the Prancing Pony would be a perfect way to unwind. Will you have some time at the end of the night to socialise?”

“Sure; Neon has been wanting to play a set, so I’ll have him take over about halfway through. Who all are you going to invite?”

“Bonny, Harpo, his girlfriend Beauty Brass, and Octavia,” the lyrist replied.

“Octavia Melody? The cellist I keep hearing about?” Vinyl asked with interest.

Lyra nodded. “The same. She’s been having trouble with her music for some time now, and I think she could use a change of pace. She’s a sweetheart and deserves the opportunity to let loose.”

“Yeah, bring ‘em all down! I’ll be sure to have a good set ready and one of the VIP sections reserved for you.”

Lyra smiled at her best friend. “Thanks, love.”

“Don’t mention it,” Vinyl said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “How is that girlfriend of yours doing, anyway? I should stop by the candy shop; I’ve been craving some of her dark chocolate orange stuff.”

“She’s doing fine. Business has picked up at the shop so she’s been busy. I try to help her out whenever I can, but I’ve been pretty preoccupied with the Orchestra lately. I’ll make sure she has some dark chocolate orange waiting for you,” the lyrist said with a smile.

They arrived at the diner and Lyra turned into the driveway, parking next to a familiar black sports car behind the diner. The two women got out and made their way to the front of the diner. Vinyl opened the door for Lyra, who stepped through and started walking toward the back of the diner where Rainbow Dash, Spitfire, and Bon Bon sat at a table.

As Lyra and Vinyl approached, the three women at the table got up. Lyra went first to Spitfire, pulling the fiery orange-haired woman into a tight hug. “It’s so great to see you both! I’m glad you could take some time off from training.”

Spitfire returned the hug with equal enthusiasm. “Yeah, we needed some time off before we start the summer tour.”

“It’s good to see you all again, too,” the short, but very athletically built Rainbow Dash said in her somewhat boyish voice, moving to embrace the marginally taller Lyra next.

“And look what the cat dragged in! I’ve missed you, dork,” Spitfire said as she hugged Vinyl warmly.

“I missed you, too, featherbrain,” The DJ said affectionately. She stepped back and took a look at her second oldest friend; the bronze skinned woman was in at least as good shape as Rainbow Dash. “You look good, Spit; I see Dash is keeping you in shape.” She threw a wink and a smirk in Dash’s direction, moving to hug the rainbow-haired fighter jockey.

Meanwhile, Lyra greeted her girlfriend with a warm, but publicly appropriate, kiss. “How’s work today, love?”

Bon Bon gave the top of her shorter girlfriend’s head an affectionate nuzzle. “Busy, but that’s good. With summer on the way and the temperature rising, adding the ice cream bar was brilliant and it’s been a hit.”

“See? I told you it was a good idea!” Lyra smiled and nestled into her lover's neck.

“And I’m glad I let you talk me into doing it.” Bon Bon released her girlfriend with some reluctance and turned to the spinner, grasping her in a fond hug. “It’s good to see you, Scratch; you haven’t been by, lately,” she said sadly. “I have a fresh batch of the dark chocolate orange that you love, maybe that’ll get you to stop by?”

“Hey, pretty lady. I know, I’ve been,” Vinyl paused and looked away, biting her lip, then continued with a tinge of regret in her voice, “preoccupied lately. It’s funny you mention the chocolate, though. On the way here, Lyra and I were talking about just that and how I mean to stop by the shop soon.”

The candy maker smiled and laughed, a sound that was bright and cheerful like the rays of Celestia’s sun. “Good, you’d better!”

With the greetings complete, the five women sat down, with Vinyl sitting next to the two fighter jockeys and Lyra & Bon Bon across from them. Not long after they all sat down, Jamie, the owner of the establishment, came to take their orders.

“Hello, girls! It’s great to see you all again,” the middle-aged woman said. “What’ll you have?”

“The usual for me,” Vinyl replied with a smirk.

“So, a bacon and blue cheese burger, well done with a Ruby ale milkshake. Spit?” Jamie turned her gaze to the flame-haired Wonderbolt next.

“I’ll have a buffalo chicken wrap, hold the ranch, and an iced tea,” the Wonderbolt Captain said.

WIth haste, Jamie jotted down the order and looked over at Rainbow Dash.

“I’ll have a chicken caesar salad and a pint of Ruby ale.” The rainbow-haired woman closed her menu and handed it to the waitress.

“Okay…” Jamie said, writing it down, and bringing her attention to Bon Bon next. “And how about you, deary?”

“I’ll have the mushroom swiss burger and a regular chocolate shake,” Bon Bon responded.

“Mmkay, and you, Lyra?”

“I’ll have the same, except I’d like a pint of Terminator stout,” the lyrist said.

“Alrighty then, girls; I’ll have your drinks by in a couple minutes and your food not long after.”

“Thanks, Jamie!” they said as she walked away.

“So, what have you lovely ladies been up to since we were last together?” Spitfire asked.

“Well, I’ve been busy with the Orchestra, getting ready for the Summer Sun Celebration. We were very busy with concerts between December and March, though the concert schedule has thinned out since then, only to be replaced by practice five days a week for the show at the palace,” Lyra replied.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to seeing the Orchestra at the Celebration. You all are going to rock it!” Spitfire said.

“Lame,” Dash retorted. “No offense, of course, Lyra; it’s just a little slow for my taste.”

“Come on, babe,” Spitfire said to her girlfriend. “Have you ever actually been to a symphony?”

“Well, no. Like I said, it’s not my style,” the smaller pilot said.

“Well, you’re coming with me, then. You need to give them a chance, I think you’ll actually like it after you hear them play.”

“What?! Come on, you’re not actually going to make me…” Rainbow began, then trailed off after her flame-haired girlfriend gave her the ‘do it for me’ look. “Fine,” Rainbow finished, giving in.

“Yay!” Lyra said, happy that another one of her friends would be there to see her play.

Spitfire turned her gaze to the DJ. “You’re going to be there, right, Scratch?”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Awesome!” the honey-eyed pilot said. About this time Jamie came back with their drinks and milkshakes, passing them out to the appropriate woman.

“Thanks, Jamie!” Vinyl said.

Jamie smiled and nodded, and walked back the way she came.

The Wonderbolt Captain took a drink of her iced tea then turned toward the blue and pink haired confectioner. “What have you been up to, Bonny?”

“Well,” she began, “I’ve been terribly busy with the store, which I shouldn’t complain about, because business is good. I did a small expansion and added an ice cream bar and it’s been very popular, especially now that it’s starting to get warm.”

“That’s great!” Spitfire said. “I’m glad things are going so well. You two still have time for each other though, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” responded Lyra.

Bon Bon nodded. “We make sure to make time for each other, usually on the weekends. Plus, now that we live together, it’s not so hard.”

“Good,” the pilot said. Turning to the DJ on her right, she asked “What about you, Scratch? What have you been up to?”

Vinyl’s countenance lost its carefree expression and clouded a bit as she processed the question. “Well, the record company is doing well, but I still don’t want any part of running the day-to-day operations. Besides, Platinum Record does a better job running the company than I ever could. I did take full control of the club a couple months ago, though, and I’m happy with just running the club and spinning. I’m playing a set there tonight, actually; you and Rainbow should come. I think Lyra is trying to get a group together to go out and I promised her one of the VIP sections.”

Lyra’s face lit up with excitement. “Yeah! You both should come out with us!”

“That sounds great!” Spitfire said. “What do you think, Dash?”

“A night on the town sounds awesome!”

“That’s settled, then. I’m only going to play a short set then Neon Lights will take over so I can come be social.” The DJ turned to Spitfire’s pale-skinned girlfriend. “So, how are Rarity and the rest of the girls doing?”

Rainbow perked up. “They’re all doing awesome. Rarity is the most popular thing in fasion, so she’s busy filling orders from all over Equestria. She had to add an expansion to the Boutique and hire an assistant, a pretty talented girl from Manehatten, I guess. Twilight is busy being princess-y and eggheaded as usual. I guess she’s made some crazy discovery about something she called the theory of relati… relatives…”

“Relativity?” Vinyl suggested, having seen something about it on the ‘net.

“Yeah, that’s it! Relativity. Has something to do with space travel, I guess? She tried explaining it to me, but she lost me after she said ‘theory’. Beyond air speed, thrust, lift, drag and aerodynamics, I don’t get all that egghead stuff she’s so good at. I’m sure she’ll be at the Celebration in a couple months. Anyway, Applejack is doing what she always does; running the family orchard, and making damn fine cider. Matter of fact, she just came up with a new one where she added rhubarb to the hard apple cider, and it’s awesome! Fluttershy has her own vet clinic in Ponyville now, so she’s pretty busy with that, but she loves it. Pinkie Pie is, well, still defying the laws of physics and reality as we know it. Aside from that, she’s taking a bigger part in the operation of Sugarcube Corner; she and the Cakes are thinking about expanding to Canterlot, giving Pinkie her own shop here.

“Sounds like they’re all doing great; I’m glad to hear it,” the two-tone blue haired woman said.

They all turned their attention to Jamie as she brought out a big, round tray with all of their food on it, set it on a folding stand and began passing out the plates. Vinyl took a deep breath through her nose and smiled. “Mmm, it smells delicious as always, Jamie!”

Jamie finished passing out the plates of food. “Can I get you girls anything else?” When they all replied in the negative, she said “Alright then, let me know if you change your minds! Enjoy.” She picked up the tray & stand and walked away, leaving the women to their food.

After waiting a minute so they all could start digging into their food, Spitfire turned her attention back to Vinyl. “So, you still living in the flat?” she asked, referring to the high-rise flat Vinyl owned in downtown Canterlot, wondering if maybe Vinyl had come to terms enough with her parents’ passing to move into the inherited manor on the outskirts of the upper west side of Canterlot.

“Yep,” Vinyl replied in a clipped tone, making it clear she didn’t want to get into that particular topic.

Spitfire decided to let it go and went back to her food.

They ate in companionable silence for a while. The couple in one of the booths adjacent to theirs got up and left, while not long after the other adjacent booth was occupied by a trio that appeared to be university students.

They continued to eat in silence until Lyra looked over at the two fighter pilots. “Your summer tour still starts with the show at the Summer Sun Celebration, right?”

“Yeah!” Rainbow replied for her girlfriend, who had just taken a bite of her wrap. “The show at the Summer Sun Celebration is our biggest of the year; the best way to kick off our tour.”

“Sounds like it’s going to be a pretty busy day for just about all of us,” Lyra said, jerking her head towards Vinyl. “I think Vinyl will be the only one who’ll be able to enjoy all of the festivities unhindered.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to sleeping in a bit then heading to the airshow,” Vinyl said with a triumphant grin. “Then the concert at the palace in the evening and whatever the hell I want to do in between! It’s going to be great.”

The women finished the last of their food in silence. Jamie came around one more time to see if they wanted anything else and when they all said no, she passed out the cheques. She collected up all of their dishes and took them to the kitchen while the women gathered together their respective forms of payment to settle the bills. Spitfire paid for her and Rainbow Dash’s meals, earning the Wonderbolt Captain a kiss on the cheek and a promise to make it up to her, accompanied by a sultry look.

Bon Bon likewise paid for her and Lyra’s meals, getting a kiss, an adoring smile, and a “Thanks, love” in return. Vinyl laid out her payment with her cheque and as Jamie came back, the women handed it all off to her, who promised to be back soon with their change or cards.

They idly chatted until she came back and handed the change, cards, and receipts back. “Thanks for coming in, girls; it was nice to see you all. Don’t be strangers!”

They all replied with a mix of “Thanks, Jamie” or “See you again soon!” and the waitress headed back towards the front of the diner. Bon Bon looked at her watch and frowned. “Well, I better get back to the shop and make sure my assistant hasn’t been overwhelmed.” She looked over at the two stunt plots. “It was great seeing you girls; I’m glad you have some time off to relax and spend some time with us,” she said with a smile. “I guess I’ll see you all tonight!”

They all stood up, Lyra giving her girlfriend a quick kiss and thanking her for lunch again while Vinyl gave Spitfire a soft punch to the shoulder and a smile. “I’m glad you’re back for a while; I missed you, punk.”

Spitfire grinned at the DJ. “The feeling’s mutual. See you tonight, then?”

“Yep!” Vinyl said, as she moved to hug Dash.

Bon Bon took her turn embracing the two pilots and the DJ. “See you all tonight!” With a wave she headed to the door. Lyra also hugged the two fighter jockeys before they all walked to the door. Leaving the diner last, Vinyl held the door open for an elderly couple to enter then continued around the back to the parking lot. Spitfire and Rainbow Dash got into the Wonderbolt Captain’s black sports car, backed out of the parking space and, with a wave, pulled onto the busy street.

Vinyl and Lyra got into the latter’s blue luxury coupé, left the parking lot and started heading back towards the Mandarin Oriental and Vinyl’s high-rise flat. They spent the drive mostly in silence, Vinyl thinking about what tracks to include in her set for that evening while Lyra resumed thinking about getting Vinyl to open up and start dating again.

It wasn’t long before they arrived at the Mandarin Oriental. Instead of heading to the underground garage, Lyra pulled up to the front of the building to drop Vinyl off, as the lyrist had to go get ready for practice with the Orchestra.

As the doorman walked toward the car to open the door for Vinyl, she turned toward her best friend. “Thanks for taking me out to lunch; it was nice to see Bonny and the other girls for a bit. I’ll start my set at 10:00 tonight, and be done by midnight so I can come be social.”

“Alright; that sounds good,” Lyra said. “See you later!”

“Later, Heartstrings,” the DJ said with a wave as she got out of the car and thanked Alastair, the doorman. Lyra pulled back out into traffic as Vinyl went into the building. She pushed the button to call the lift and, when it arrived, she stepped in and took it to the 75th floor. On the way up to her flat, Vinyl thought about some of the things that were said during lunch with her friends and it brought up dark, unwanted memories and feelings.

The elevator dinged as it reached her floor and the door opened. She stepped out and turned right towards her flat, one of only four on that floor, due to the lavish size of the abodes. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door.

Entering the flat, she tossed her keys and wallet on the table that sat against the wall in the modest foyer, and made her way to the large, open kitchen. She pulled a tumbler from the cupboard that held the glasses and went to the liquor cabinet in the dining area, retrieving a bottle of Jameson whiskey. She poured about three fingers worth of the amber liquid into the tumbler and returned the bottle to the cabinet.

She took her tumbler and walked into her bedroom. Setting the glass on her dresser, Vinyl stripped down to her underwear, a pair of dark blue boyshorts and a matching sports bra, and kicked the discarded clothes against a wall. She stepped up to the nightstand on the right side of her bed and took a bottle of Vicodin out of the drawer. The previous spring, while on one of her many rides attempting to escape her troubles, a careless driver had turned left onto the street in front of Vinyl without looking. With very little time to react, the DJ had done the best she could to avoid the car but still hit the rear of the vehicle and tumbled end over end across it.

As far as motorcycle accidents went, Vinyl was very lucky, coming away with only a hairline fracture of her right radius, dislocated left shoulder, and minor road rash. Nonetheless, her injuries were enough to warrant pain medication and she had been prescribed Vicodin. The medication had done its job and her injuries had long since healed; however, she discovered that, with a little alcohol, it was useful for dulling the pain of a different kind of injury, that of her broken heart and abused emotions.

With it, she could escape the pain, the nightmares, and the voice of despair, if only for a short while. She knew it wasn’t good for her, that she was descending into dependency and abuse, but the agony of her memories was too much for the DJ to bear. And so it was with a sigh of despondent resignation that she opened the bottle of pills and shook two tablets into the palm of her hand, recapped the bottle, and put it back in the nightstand.

Vinyl walked back to her dresser and picked up the tumbler of whiskey. She looked at the pills in her hand for a moment, one last shred of resistance as she was torn between the need to numb the pain & forget the traumatic memories, and the desire to stop relying on the painkillers to deal with her issues.

In the end, the darkness won. The DJ popped the vicodin into her mouth, and emptied half of the glass of whiskey to wash them down. She walked out of her bedroom and into her studio to work on her set for that evening. With the tumbler of whiskey still in her hand, she waited for the numbness to set in.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Octavia Melody sighed, letting her bow hand drop to her side with her amethyst coloured eyes closing in frustration. She just couldn’t feel the connection to the music; the passion and emotion she normally felt was gone, and had been for some time. The 22 year old cellist began having problems with her music since the Hearth’s Warming holiday the previous year, when she had begun feeling like something-- or someone --was missing in her life, and the debacle at the Gala certainly hadn’t helped, marking a low point for the musical prodigy.

Her fellow musicians assured her that her music was as masterful as ever, but she knew the truth of the matter; it sounded nothing short of lackluster to her practiced ears. On top of her emotional turmoil, Octavia couldn’t help but feel like no one took her seriously after playing the Hokey Pokey at the Gala.

She hadn’t been asked to play a private party since. Granted, it had been less than a month since the Gala, but she was still certain that it had forever tarnished her reputation among the nobles of Canterlot. She had to figure out how to get her performance back up to it’s usual masterful level, but she couldn’t just take time off from the Orchestra, not with the Summer Sun Celebration concert at the palace coming up soon. She would just have to endure being mediocre until she could figure it out.

She checked the wall clock hanging in the dining room, on the far side of the flat, and noted that it was almost 2:00 in the afternoon. I have about an hour before practice with the Orchestra, just enough time for a late lunch and tea at the café across from the concert hall. Yes, a nice cup of Earl Grey is just what I need. Octavia packed away her beloved cello in its case, set it by the door of her flat and went to her bedroom to get ready.

Moving to her closet, she pulled out a short sleeve, white dress shirt, a charcoal grey skirt that was just long enough to be proper, but short enough to show off her shapely, olive-coloured legs, and her signature pink bowtie. She took off her jeans and white t-shirt and tossed them into the clothes hamper next to the entrance to her closet, leaving her clad only in simple but cute lavender cotton briefs and matching bra.

She went to the bathroom to reapply her deodorant, then back to her bedroom and put on her dress shirt and buttoned it up to the neck, followed by her skirt. She took a pair of socks from her dresser and pulled them on, then grabbed the hair brush from on top of her dresser and pulled it through her long, charcoal-grey tresses as she looked in the mirror above her dresser.

Last, but certainly not least, she popped up the collar on her dress shirt, draped her bowtie around her neck and tied it, then folded the collar back down over the bowtie. Finished dressing, she walked to the entrance of her flat, put on her black dress shoes, grabbed her purse and her cello, and left the flat, locking the door behind her.

Octavia took the lift down to the building’s lobby where the doorman, Reginald, noticed her and moved to open the door for her as she exited the building, thanking the man as he followed her out. She walked to the curb to hail a cab; when it pulled to the curb the driver got out, took her cello and placed it in the boot as Reginald opened the rear door of the cab for her. “Thank you, Reginald,” she said in her sophisticated, upper Canterlot accent. “I should be back in a few hours.”

“Very well; have a nice afternoon, Miss Octavia,” the older man said, closing the door and walking back to stand in front of the building.

The cab driver climbed back into the front of the cab. “Where to, miss?” he asked in a rough, but kind voice.

“Merkin Concert Hall, please.”

“Certainly, ma’am,” The driver said, pulling out into the, at that time, light afternoon traffic.

Octavia lived fairly close to the concert hall, so it wasn’t more than five minutes with the light traffic, and they arrived. The driver pulled over in front of the concert hall and parked, getting out and retrieving the cello from the boot while Octavia climbed out of the back. She paid and thanked the man, then took her cello into the concert hall and dropped it off on the stage before heading across the street to the café.

She sat down at one of the tables on the front patio and checked her watch, seeing that it was only twenty minutes past two and that she had forty minutes before practice, more than enough time. She picked up a menu and began to look it over. Not more than a minute passed before a waiter came to her table to take her order.

“Can I start you off with something to drink, miss?” the young man asked.

“Yes; I’d like a cup of Earl Grey, please.”

“Certainly, ma’am; I’ll have that right out for you.” The waiter inclined his head and walked inside to place the order.

Octavia continued to peruse the menu, deciding on a grilled turkey and cheese on ciabatta bread sandwich. She put the menu down and thought about her musical predicament. What do I need to do to fix this? Do I need a holiday? Or perhaps I need to see a therapist? I have been feeling rather down lately, maybe I do need help of a professional nature. Before she could explore that line of thought further, the waiter arrived with the tea and took her order for food, then left her again with her tea and her thoughts.

Rather than returning to her previous train of thought, she began people watching. There were many people out at that time, moving here and there, taking care of mundane errands or heading to important meetings. It wasn’t long before some of her fellow musicians began to arrive at the concert hall. She was usually one of the early ones as well, preferring to arrive early rather than risk getting caught in traffic or falling victim to some other unforeseen circumstance and being late.

The first person she saw arrive was Symphony, which wasn’t at all unusual as she was one of the oft-early arrivals. She got out of her cab, her violin case in hand, and went right into the concert hall. At that time the waiter arrived with her sandwich; Octavia thanked him and he left after inquiring whether there was anything else she needed.

The cellist continued to people-watch as she began eating her sandwich with some voracity, as she was quite hungry, but not so much as to completely abandon the strict manners which she had been brought up with from an early age.

A young couple sat down at the table just to her left and began discussing the meeting they were to have with a realtor after their lunch. A yellow cab pulled up outside the concert hall, from which Frederic emerged, which was a bit odd; as the pianist didn’t have an instrument to move around or maintain, because the concert hall staff took care of it, he would usually just stroll in a few minutes before practice started.I wonder why he’s here early?

She watched him as he conversed with his cab driver for a moment, then turned around and walked into the concert hall. Hmm, Frederic is handsome, I suppose. He certainly seems to attract the attention of most of the other ladies in the Orchestra. I just can’t seem to imagine being with him, though. Come to think of it, after the disaster that was my last relationship, I can’t imagine myself with any of the men I’m acquainted with.Maybe I would have a better experience with a nice woman, but how would that affect my life? What would my parents think? The Orchestra? Although, Lyra is with a woman and still in the Orchestra, so maybe it wouldn’t affect my career very much. But my family...

Deciding to save that line of thought for another time, Octavia finished her sandwich and downed the last of her tea. The waiter came by and asked one last time if she desired anything else, then dropped off the cheque after he received another polite reply in the negative. She looked at her watch. Ten minutes until practice starts; I suppose I should make way across the street. She left enough money to cover the bill with enough left over for a generous tip, got up and made her way across the street to the concert hall. As she was approaching the front door a short, mint-green and white haired woman came up and fell into step beside her.

“Hey, Octavia!” Lyra said brightly.

“Hello, Lyra; how are you this afternoon?”

“I’m doing great, thanks! How are you?”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Octavia smiled, then let it drop into a frown. “I’ve been better, actually.”

“Still having trouble with your music?” Lyra frowned in sympathy, knowing, as a fellow musician, what it was like to have trouble with the music.

“Yes. Nothing has helped; I just don’t know what to do,” Octavia said with a sigh, her voice tinged with despair.

“Well, I have an idea!” the shorter woman said as they entered the concert hall, a smile on her face. “I’m getting a group of friends together to go to the Prancing Pony tonight; you should come! I think a night out on the town will do us some good.”

“Go out to a club?” Octavia sounded doubtful. “I don’t know; clubs aren’t really my cup of tea, so to speak. Who else is going?”

“So far it’s myself, Bon Bon, Spitfire, and Rainbow Dash; I’m going to invite Beauty and Harpo as well. I mentioned the idea to Beauty a couple days ago and she seemed on board, so I think they will come. Also, my best friend is spinning there tonight, and she will join us after her set is done.”

“Spitfire and Rainbow Dash? As in the Wonderbolts and friends of Princess Twilight?” Octavia asked, slightly surprised.

“Yep, that’s them!”

“I had no idea you were friends with such famous and important people. Why haven’t you ever mentioned them?” the cellist asked.

“Well, they aren’t around much, what with all of the training and touring they have to do, so I guess I’ve just never had occasion to talk about them.”

“I see.” Octavia’s eyes became distant as she debated whether or not to go. “Well, if Beauty and Harpo are going to go, I suppose I’ll go as well. I agree that a night out may do me some good.”

“Wonderful! I’ll go confirm things with Beauty and Harpo, then.”

The two women continued up onto the stage and Octavia went to retrieve and set up her cello while Lyra went to talk to Beauty Brass and Harpo Nandermane, who were bent over their own respective instruments. As Octavia was fine tuning her cello, she heard someone walk up behind her and turned around to see Frederic standing there.

“Good afternoon, Octavia.” The white haired man smiled pleasantly.

“Hello, Frederic; how are you today?”

“I am quite well today, thank you,” he replied in his slightly smug Manehatten accent, as he reached up and brushed a lock of his white hair aside. “And how do you fare on this beautiful, spring day?”

“I’m doing fine, thank you,” she lied, not wanting to talk to him about her troubles.

“I’m happy to hear that, my dear. Octavia, would you care to join me for dinner and a trip to the museum this evening? There is an exhibit on pre-Celestial and Lunar Equestrian history that I’ve heard many good things about.”

Oh no, is he asking me out on a date? Awkward… How do I handle this? Searching for a way out, she looked up towards Lyra, still standing with Beauty and Harpo, and received a thumbs up that signified that the couple would indeed be going to the club that night. Brilliant timing, Lyra!

With an apologetic smile, Octavia looked back up at the man. “I’m very flattered, Frederic; but I’m afraid I must decline as I have already made plans to go to the Prancing Pony with Lyra, Beauty, and Harpo tonight.”

“Ah, I see,” Frederic said a bit awkwardly and looked down at the stage, a little put off. “Perhaps some other time, then.”

“Perhaps,” Octavia said, with only a little hesitance.

Before things could get any more awkward, Noteworthy, the orchestra's conductor, came to the rescue.

“Alright, everyone; take your places, please, and we’ll get started.”

The musicians all moved to their respective places; as principal cellist and concertmaster, Octavia took her place at the front of the strings section. She could tell that Frederic was not very happy with the turn of events, and got the impression that he was not expecting to be turned down. Octavia was just happy that she had dodged the proverbial bullet.

She settled in for what would be a prosaic, uneventful practice. As she packed up her cello afterwards, Lyra walked up beside her. “So, Beauty and Harpo are in. We are going to meet at the Pony at 9:30 tonight; does that work for you?”

“That should be just fine. I’ll meet you there, then?”

“Yes; that will be perfect. See you tonight, then!” Lyra replied with a happy smile, bouncing away with joyous energy at the prospect of a night out with her friends.

“See you tonight,” Octavia replied with a thoughtful smile. For some reason, she had a good feeling about going out that night.

Lyra picked up her lyre and headed towards the door, her cellphone held up to her ear as she called Vinyl to let her know who to add to the club’s guest list. WIth a little bit of luck, tonight will be the beginning of something new and amazing for my best friend.

(2) Music as Life (revised)

Octavia’s flat, Saturday, April 20th, 8:45pm

Octavia ran around her flat, putting the finishing touches on her make-up and clothing. She wore a long, form-fitting, shimmery dress the colour of a dark, stormy night. It hung from her shoulders and was cut low enough in the front to show some of her ample cleavage, but not enough to be considered scandalous, with a long slit up the right side of the dress that came up to just below the lavender treble clef mark on her thigh. Rarity, the designer from Ponyville whom Octavia went to for much of her wardrobe, had made the dress with the perfect balance between ostentatious and conservative.

Of course, her ever-present pink bowtie adorned her slim neck, and a pair of gold, round chandelier earrings with amethysts in the middle hung from her ears. In the large bathroom just off of her bedroom, Octavia stood in front of the wall-to-wall mirror and brushed a bit of silver-blue eyeshadow to the lids of her eyes, just enough to be noticeable. With that complete, she chose a light hued lavender lipstick that accented her eyes and applied it to her lips evenly. She sprayed some of her favourite perfume onto her generous chest, and was done.

Her make-up complete, Octavia went to the walk-in closet in her bedroom and selected a pair of shiny black heels, just tall enough to emphasise her toned calves and thighs, but not so much so that she would be very uncomfortable. She would, after all, be out until the early hours of the morning. She grabbed a small black handbag off of a shelf and left the bedroom to go into the living room. The cellist took her wallet and keys from her everyday handbag and placed them in the small black one. Sitting on the couch, Octavia slipped on the black heels, and was ready to go.

She sat there for a moment, looking at her cello resting on its stand in the corner of the large room. She still had no muse, no inspiration, and it was eating away at her. I just don’t know what to do. It’s so frustrating. I have to get past this, though; music is my life, and this is no way to live.

After another moment of contemplation, she sighed, and her resolve strengthened; she was determined to enjoy the evening with her friends, even if a club wasn’t exactly her scene. She got up, grabbed her handbag, and left her flat, locking the door behind her. She reached the lift and hit the button to call the car just has her phone rang. Taking it out of her handbag, she answered it.

“Hello, Lyra!” Octavia said in an accented, sing-song voice.

“Hey, Octavia! You on your way to the club yet?”

“I’m just now leaving.”

“Great. I think we’ll be there before you; just walk up to the doorman and give him your name. You’re on the guest list so you’ll have no problems getting in. We will be in one of the VIP sections,” Lyra said.

“Wonderful. I’ll see you soon, then,” the cellist said.

“Awesome! Bye for now.”

“Bye!” Octavia replied, then ended the call. A few more seconds passed and the lift arrived. She stepped in and hit the button for the ground floor. As the car descended, she thought about the evening ahead of her.

At least it’s the classiest club in Canterlot. How did Lyra get us all on the guest list, though? And she said they would be in one of the VIP sections? How in Equestria did she manage that?! It must be this ’DJ’ friend of hers. I didn’t think she knew any DJs or was even into electronic music. I’m not sure how it’s really considered music, either; they don’t use actual instruments. Maybe this DJ friend of hers will surprise me and it won’t be completely terrible.

Before she could further contemplate her prejudices concerning Techno and the electronic music profession, the lift reached the lobby. She stepped out and walked toward the entrance of the Veneto. Reginald moved towards the door to open it. “Good evening, Miss Octavia. Shall I hail a cab for you?”

“That’s quite alright, Reginald; I’ll hail one myself.”

“As you wish, ma’am.”

As she stepped out into the warm, spring air, she said “Please let the night doorman know I’ve gone to the Prancing Pony and that I will return rather late, I suspect.”

“I will let him know,” he replied.

“Thank you, Reginald. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, ma’am.”

Octavia was cautious in nature, perhaps a bit too much, and made a habit of telling the doormen where she would be and when she expected to return, just in case something were to happen to her.

She walked to the curb and put her arm in the air to attempt to wave down one of the passing taxis. It was a busy night, so it was a couple of minutes before a cab noticed her and pulled over. The wait didn’t bother her, however, as it was very pleasant outside and she didn’t mind standing and enjoying it for a little while. When a cab did pull over, she opened the door and slid into the back seat.

“Where to, miss?” the driver asked, in a slightly impatient voice.

“The Prancing Pony, please.”

“Certainly,” the driver said, as he pulled into traffic.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Lyra Heartstrings, Bon Bon, Beauty Brass, and Harpo Nandermane stepped out of their cab in front of the night club to find Rainbow Dash and Spitfire waiting patiently outside for them.

Rainbow Dash was clad in a sky blue, silk toga style dress with white silk stitched over the hems that Rarity had made for her for the Grand Gala. Spitfire had decided on a deep gold dress that had a shallow, modest cut in the front, exposed her back, and tapered down from the middle of her right thigh to the middle of her left calf, with large sapphire studs adorning her ears.

“Hello, ladies!” Lyra exclaimed, walking up to the pair and hugging each of them in turn, starting with Rainbow Dash.

“Hey, all!” Spitfire greeted the group.

Lyra turned to Beauty and Harpo. “Beauty, Harpo, allow me to introduce you to Spitfire and Rainbow Dash.”- she gestured to each woman as she said their name -“Girls, this is Beauty Brass and Harpo Nanderman, sousaphonist and harpist, respectively, for the Orchestra.”

“It’s so very nice to meet you both,” Beauty Brass, a taller, yet curvy woman with brown hair and lavender eyes, said. She had opted to wear a cyan blue blouse, a long black skirt, and a mother of pearl necklace and earrings.

“Wait, as in Spitfire and Rainbow Dash of the Wonderbolts?!” Harpo, a man of above-average height and slight build, with wavy light blue hair and green eyes, exclaimed. He was clad in a three-piece, dark blue striped, two button suit, with a light grey shirt and a maroon tie.

“Heh, yeah; that’s us!” the Wonderbolt Captain said with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Wow, I never thought I’d get to meet you two. It’s an honour,” he said, shaking the pilot’s hands.

“It’s very nice to meet you both, as well. We’re looking forward to seeing you all play in the concert at the palace in a couple months, right Dash?” the flame haired woman said.

“Um, yeah, totally! And it’s great to meet you both!”

“Well, shall we go inside?” Lyra asked.

After she got affirmatives all around, the lyrist led the way to the door and the man that guarded it.

“Names?” the man said curtly.

“Lyra Heartstrings, Bon Bon, Spitfire, Rainbow Dash, Beauty Brass, and Harpo Nandermane,” Lyra said for the group.

The doorman checked the names against his list and grunted. “Alright, go on in.”

As the group headed inside the club, several people that were waiting in queue started to complain, shouting “Why do they get to go in?!” until the doorman barked at them “Because they’re on the list! Now be quiet if you want to get in!” Before the door closed behind the group, a few people could be heard loudly saying “Hey, wasn’t that the Captain of the Wonderbolts and her wing-woman?! They are so hot!”

Rainbow and Spitfire just looked at each other, shook their heads and chuckled as they followed Lyra into the club. As the group entered, they were assaulted by a heavy bass beat and flashing lights of every colour. The club was actually still quite pleasantly cool, as there weren’t a couple hundred bodies writhing on the dance floor, yet, heating the place up.

As they walked through they took in the impressive size of the place and the expensive decor. There was an illuminated waterfall that cascaded down an opaque pane of glass behind the bar that ran the entire length of it. All of the tables had black leather lounge chairs flanking them and chandeliers above them that provided a dim light.

The group followed Lyra as she walked past the VIP sections that bordered the dance floor until she found the one with a piece of paper taped up on the entrance that read “RESERVED FOR VINYL SCRATCH” in big, bold letters, and led the group into it.

On the left and right sides of the large room a pair of black, two-seat, leather couches were placed against the walls. Against the center of the back wall was a large, half-circular black leather couch made to seat ten people, flanked on either side by two-seat black couches, and a large circular table was situated in the middle of the half-circular couch. The side of the room that faced the dance floor was completely open except for a three foot high glass wall that rose from the ground.

As they were all getting seated, the lyrist said “Hey, would you all mind doing me a favor?” After she didn’t get any negative responses she continued with “Beauty, Harpo? Would you two take the seats at the far left end of the couch?” She pointed to the spots she was referring to.

As the couple moved that way, she turned to the two pilots. “Would you two please take the right-most seats?” she asked, again gesturing to the seats she wanted them to take.

“Um, sure,” the rainbow haired pilot started, “but why?”

Beauty chose this time to speak up as well. “Yeah, what’s with the seating arrangement? Not that it’s a big deal or anything, but I’m curious.”

“Well,” Lyra began, “with Bon Bon, Beauty, and Harpo sitting to my left,”- Bon Bon moved to take her seat between Beauty and Lyra; she already knew what Lyra had planned, as they had discussed it earlier in the evening -”it will leave the seats between me and you two”- she gestured to the fighter jockeys -”open. When Octavia gets here, she will sit next to me, since I’m one of her friends, and she’s kind of shy, so she won’t immediately sit next to someone she isn’t acquainted with if she doesn’t have to. When Vinyl gets done with her set and joins us, she’ll only be able to sit between you two”- she gestured towards the pilots again -”and Octavia.”

Spitfire’s face suddenly lit up with a look of comprehension; she focused on Lyra with a mischievous smile. “You’re trying to hook them up!”

“Yes; it’s past time for Vinyl to start dating, again. Spit, you and I both know the kind of loving, caring, and generous woman Vinyl is. She’s a wonderful girlfriend and she deserves a wonderful girlfriend in return. But we both also know that under that confident, sexy exterior Vinyl is broken; damaged goods. She needs a sweet, caring, loving woman to heal the emotional wounds she has left over from she-who-shall-not-be-named, and the death of her parents. I’ve known Octavia a while, and I think she can be that woman.”

“But, she hasn’t ever said anything about being into women,” Harpo said. Beauty and Lyra both just looked at him with a flat look on their faces.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” Beauty said, patting the man’s hand in a patronizing way. “She’s into women, she just hasn’t acted on it yet.”

Lyra nodded her head. “Exactly. Trust me, after she spends some time with Vinyl, it won’t be long before she decides to give it a try. Vinyl has a way of doing that to women who have even the slightest tendency towards the same sex, and even to some who don’t!” Lyra said, rolling her eyes.

“Alright,” the sousaphonist said. “So, what do we do?”

“Honestly, just get them talking and I don’t think we’ll have to do much else. Vinyl just has this magnetism about her; I doubt Octavia will be able to resist. Speaking of,”- Lyra paused and looked at her watch, -“it’s 9:30, where is she?”

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

At that moment, Octavia’s cab pulled into a space in front of the club.

“That’ll be 27 bits, ma’am,” the driver said.

Octavia gave the man 30 bits. “Please, keep the change.”

“Thank you; have a nice evening, ma’am.”

Octavia got out of the cab; looking around, she first noticed the queue of people waiting to get in, then the towering, burly doorman at the front entrance. For a brief moment she wondered if she was supposed to stand in queue, but then remembered what Lyra had told her.

She walked up to the stout man. “Name?” he asked in a brusque manner.

Taken aback by his gruff demeanor, the cellist took a reflexive step back and was silent for a couple of awkward seconds before she calmed herself. “Octavia Melody,” she replied.

He grunted and looked through his list of names again. Once he found her name, he looked back down at her. “Alright, go on in.”

He moved aside to let her pass and she stepped around him at a swift pace. She reached the entrance and entered the club, instantly regretting the decision as she was bombarded by a heavy bass beat and blinding lights. She stopped to compose herself and, once she had regained control over her senses, continued into the heart of the club. As she looked around she noticed that it was every bit as high-class as she had been led to believe, despite the atrocious music coming from the speakers set up above and around the stage.

As the cellist walked through the club she couldn’t help but notice that many of the people stared at her as she walked by, mostly men but some women, too. She saw the rooms off to the right side of the dance floor and decided that those were likely the VIP areas, so she headed that way. She came to the one with the “RESERVED FOR VINYL SCRATCH” sign posted outside of it and stuck her head in just in time to hear Lyra say “where is she?” She saw her friend and walked into the room.

“Well, speak of Discord and he shall appear!” Lyra said with a bright smile. She was dressed in an airy light green dress that was suspended from her shoulders, had a low neckline and came down to just above her knees. A simple gold chain and a pendant in the shape of a wrapped piece of candy, an exact duplicate of her girlfriend’s mark, hung from her neck.

Everyone in the room stood up as Lyra went and embraced her friend. “I’m so glad you could make it, love! You look absolutely stunning!”

“Thank you,” the raven haired beauty replied with an embarrassed smile. “I’m glad I could make it, too. I’m very much looking forward to spending time with you all and ‘cutting loose’, so to speak.”

“Speaking of, I believe there are some people you need to meet!” Lyra took Octavia by the hand, leading her over to where the Wonderbolts were standing. “Ladies, this is my friend Octavia Melody, esteemed Principal cellist and Concertmaster of the Royal Canterlot Orchestra. Octavia, this is Spitfire, Captain of the Wonderbolts, and Rainbow Dash, Spitfire’s wing-woman and girlfriend,” she said, gesturing to each of them respectively.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Octavia said with enthusiasm, a small blush appearing on her cheeks at the use of her titles.

“The pleasure is ours, Octavia,” Spitfire said. “We’ve heard so much about your skill with the cello, and we’re very much looking forward to hearing you play at the Celebration in two months. If I heard correctly you have a lengthy solo?”

For some reason the two Wonderbolts did not know, the cellist’s face fell a bit at the mention of her music. Suffering from the loss of the connection to her music, Octavia was very worried about her solo in the concert.

She recovered in an instant, however. “Yes, that’s correct.” Wishing to change the subject before they could ask any questions she didn’t want to answer, Octavia wasted no time continuing. “Aren’t you two also friends with Princess Twilight Sparkle?”

“Yep!” Rainbow grinned, as she spoke for the first time since Octavia walked in. “She’s my egghead!”

“Well, more Rainbow Dash than me, but yes, we’re both more or less friends with Twilight,” Spitfire chimed in.

“That must be wonderful; I’ve heard so many great things about her and the rest of your friends,” Octavia said.

“She is pretty awesome,” the rainbow haired pilot replied with a grin still adorning her face, “for an egghead, anyway! She will be at the concert in a couple months; I’ll make sure you get to meet her!”

“Really?!” the amethyst-eyed cellist exclaimed. “That would be wonderful, thank you! I’ve played at the palace twice so far and still haven’t actually met any of the Princesses.”

“It’s no biggie.” Dash shrugged, her gold feather earrings catching the light as she shook her head.

Spitfire noticed that Beauty and Harpo were standing close by, still yet to greet the cellist themselves. “It looks like we’re keeping you from other people who want to say hello, so we’ll stop hogging you for a while.”

As Octavia went to greet Beauty, Harpo, and Bon Bon, she noticed Spitfire look at Lyra with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, and nod in apparent approval of something. She didn’t get much time to contemplate what it might be, however, as she was greeted and brought into conversation with the other two musicians and the confectioner.

Lyra, however, knew exactly what the nod of approval was all about, and she was glad that, at least after only a first impression, Spitfire seemed to agree with Lyra’s choice of potential girlfriend for Vinyl.

“Good evening Beauty, Harpo; how are you both?” Octavia greeted her fellow musicians with a charming smile.

“We’re doing quite well, darling, thank you.” Beauty Brass pulled the cellist into a brief but warm embrace.

“How are you this evening, my dear?” Harpo asked.

Octavia released the sousaphonist and moved to hug Harpo. “I’m doing rather well now that I’m here; I think we all could use an evening to unwind.”

Harpo nodded as he hugged the cellist. “I agree completely.”

Octavia then greeted Bon Bon, who wore a long, form-fitting beige dress that was suspended from her neck, leaving her shoulders bare, and cut deep in the front to show off her generous cleavage. A pair of simple, gold hoop earrings hung from her ears.

After a few more minutes of conversation, a waitress came in to take their drink orders.

“Good evening,” the waitress said. “My name is Honey Wine and I’ll be your server tonight. I’ve been informed that all of your food and drink is on the house, courtesy of the owner, so feel free to order anything you wish!”

There were some exclamations of surprise from Octavia, Beauty, and Harpo at this revelation, but the other four knew that Vinyl owned the club and were well acquainted with the woman’s generosity. However, they didn’t say anything about it to the other three musicians, as they knew Vinyl didn’t like to spread around her ownership of her late father’s club and record company.

After the surprise wore off, Octavia and Beauty ordered a somewhat expensive bottle of The Pines Pinot Noir to share, Harpo three fingers of 18 year old Macallan scotch served neat, Bon Bon a chocolate martini, Lyra a long island iced tea, Spitfire a pint of Pliny the Elder Imperial India Pale Ale, and Rainbow a pint of Bifrost Winter Ale that the club, for some reason, still had on tap. The waitress noted all of their orders and left to go get their drinks.

After the waitress left, the group sat back down in their arranged seats on the half-circular couch. As Lyra suspected she would, given the seating arrangement, Octavia took the seat to the lyricist's immediate right, leaving three seats between the cellist and the Wonderbolts open, which would put Vinyl next to the cellist, just as Lyra had planned. So far, the night had gone brilliantly.

Lyra sighed as she settled back into the couch. “This is your first time at a nightclub, isn’t it, Octavia?”

“It is; I admit that nightclubs aren’t really my thing,” the cellist responded. “Though this club is very nice, the music is still terrible.”

“Well, this isn’t my friend Vinyl’s music; I think she may surprise you.”

Octavia gave Lyra a dubious look. “While I doubt it, I certainly hope you’re right.”

They engaged in small talk until the waitress returned with all of their drink orders. She passed them to their respective recipients then, after asking if they needed anything else and getting a unanimous “no”, the waitress left the room with a promise to check on them again soon.

Not a minute after the waitress left, something happened. All at once every light in the club went out and the music stopped. Then, on the left side of the stage, a single, white spotlight illuminated a tall man with white hair dressed in a black suit, with a black shirt, a white tie and dark sunglasses. In that instant, the entire group’s attention was transfixed on the man in the spotlight and they moved to stand before the short, glass wall at the front of the room. He reached into a pocket inside his suit coat, pulled out a microphone, and began to address the crowd in front of the stage.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!” he said in a loud, excited voice. “Welcome to the Prancing Pony, the hottest nightclub in Canterlot! What do you all think, is it about time we get this party started?!”

His question was met with many whistles, shouts, and much loud applause; the crowd was ready, pulsing with anticipation.

“I am DJ Northern Lights and I am your host tonight, but not your DJ, not yet! First you get to experience the audible magic of the hottest DJ in Equestria! If Luna is the Princess of the night then our DJ is without a doubt the Princess of bass! Oh yes indeed, technoheads! Your liberator! Your luminary! Your leader and beacon! The one who vanquished the tyranny of the Industry those many cycles before! DJ Pon3!”

As he said Vinyl Scratch’s stage name, a soft Techno beat began to play, growing steadily in volume and tempo as a panel was slowly lowered out of the ceiling bearing a turntable and the aforementioned DJ, who bobbed her head to the gentle beat. The crowd started to go completely mental and, as the platform touched down onto the stage, DJ Pon3 dropped the bass.

It was filthy, or so the dubstep kids would say. Without a doubt, Vinyl did not belong to this group, as she appreciated the music not for its insane bass drops, but for its flow, its highs and lows, peaks and valleys; the rollercoaster of sound and emotion it took you on.

The DJ rocked her head harder now, flinging her two-tone blue locks up and down, as she kept up with the heavy beat; under the lasers and ultraviolet lights, her snow-white skin seemed to glow, casting her in a ghostly and ethereal brilliance.

She drew in deep breaths that made her chest heave, clothed in a tight white tank-top that accentuated her moderate-sized chest and was cut off just below her breasts, so that her flat, smooth stomach was visible. On the lower half of her body she wore a pair of short, tight, khaki shorts that complimented and displayed her round, firm ass in a tantalising way. On her hands were black fingerless gloves, and of course, her trademark purple sunglasses covered her intense red eyes. Vinyl chose her wardrobe well, her ensemble highlighting her perfect curves and womanly features in a mesmerising way.

In her left hand she held one speaker of a pair of headphones to her left ear while her right hand worked her magic on the buttons, switches, dials and sliders of her turntable. On her face was the smile of someone who was deep in her element, who lived for what she did, and the happiness it imparted was infectious, as all who bore witness to her began to feel the euphoria.

Octavia Melody, cellist extraordinaire and Classical music zealot, was too enthralled by the DJ and her dramatic entrance to think about the “music” that her mind had yet to register.

“Is that your DJ friend?” the cellist asked Lyra, or shouted rather, in order to be heard over the music.

“That’s my Vinyl! Quite the entrance, huh? She’s all about the theatrics, but I didn’t know they had that retracting booth thing.”

“That was, indeed, quite the introduction.” Octavia nodded, unable to draw her amethyst eyes away from the DJ. She has such charisma, such presence. She really has everyone on the dancefloor at her mercy.

After she recovered from the DJ’s entrance, the music began to register in her mind, and she started to process it.

Well, if I’m honest, this music really isn’t as bad as I had expected it to be. It is still too loud for my taste, but it does have decent melody and rhythm, and it’s not all bass like I thought all Dubstep was. It’s nothing like Classical music, but maybe there is some merit to the electronic styles of music, she begrudgingly admitted.

“So what do you think?” Lyra asked, still next to her.

“She has such presence, such passion for her music and audience.” The cellist still didn’t look away from the spectacle in the booth.

Lyra’s face brightened and a somewhat smug, meaningful smile blossomed on it. “I meant about the music, but she does have a way of,”- Lyra paused for a couple of seconds, searching for the right words -”capturing one’s attention, doesn’t she?”

“Oh; umm, yes,” the cellist mumbled, a little embarrassed that she had, without realising it, kept her train of thought on the DJ.

I suppose it’s not all that surprising; it’s easy to become transfixed by such an alluring woman. Wait,- her eyes widened -did I really just think that?! She focused again on the DJ. Though it’s true, I shouldn’t be thinking such things! Mind out of the gutter, Octavia…

She was broken from her reverie, though, as Lyra noticed Octavia’s eye widen.

“Octavia? Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” Octavia mumbled and turned her head to look at her friend. “Oh, yes, I just realised that this music really isn’t as bad as I had expected it to be,” she recovered, just fast enough to not arouse the perceptive woman’s suspicion.

“It really isn’t, is it? I wasn’t into it at first, either, but after listening to Vinyl’s work I eventually came to appreciate it. I think she understands music better than most people in her particular genre of the art.”

Octavia tapped her fingers to the beat on the railing in front of her. “On first impression, it does seem like it.”

As they all watched the DJ, she continued to bob her head to the beat she spun. After a little while she transitioned into a slow, electronic tune mixed with electric guitar that flowed like a river in the night. The crowd stopped their wild movement and just swayed or, if they had partners, grinded and moved against each other in a sensual way. After about half a minute of just the easy rhythm and beat, lyrics began to flow out of the speakers in a deep, but feminine voice:

“Well, I'm a lover, I am forever

Movin' forward into outer space

And I'm a ruin, I am disaster

But who is comin', I’m not sure I can wait”

While the first part of the lyrics played, Vinyl picked up what appeared to be a single speaker off of a set of headphones. She raised it to her mouth and, after the fourth line of the lyrics ended, began to speak into it, singing the chorus herself in an electronically synthesized voice:

“Lover, a strange kind of lover

A different kind of lover

The kind of lover

You don't wanna just discover”

“Lover, a strange kind of lover

A different kind of lover

The kind of lover

You don't wanna just discover, lover”

After she sang the chorus twice, the next verse began, and Vinyl continued the cycle as she played her pre-recorded verses and sang the chorus live:

“And this old feelin’, has me believin’

Just takin' over like it has before

And this position, it has me wishin’

To keep me movin', to keep me goin' on”

“Lover, a strange kind of lover

A different kind of lover

The kind of lover

You don't wanna just discover”

“Lover, a strange kind of lover

A different kind of lover

The kind of lover

You don't wanna just discover, lover”

At this point in the song the rhythm and beat mellowed out into a thirty second long instrumental solo.

Octavia was transfixed, mesmerised, unable to break the song’s enchantment. This is certainly unexpected. It sounds as if she wrote this song herself; it’s so honest, full of uncertainty, and... loneliness. The instrumental ran its course and another verse began:

“So let your heart out and go and find out

What is the matter between you and me

It is the question to the old answer

Can you save me be the one I love”

“Lover, a strange kind of lover

A different kind of lover

The kind of lover

You don't wanna just discover”

“Lover, a strange kind of lover

A different kind of lover

The kind of lover

You don't wanna just discover, lover”

After the final chorus the song went back into a mellow instrumental beat and Vinyl let it play for just a little while longer before fading it out. She picked up a microphone and in her slightly boyish but musical voice spoke for the first time since appearing. “How are you all doin’ out there?!” The question was met with shouts, whistles and raised fists. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves, but I had to give you all a breather before I rock your world again!”

Right then she hit a button and a fast-paced, bass heavy song blasted out of the speakers and over the crowd, and they all started to move wildly once again.

After Vinyl started the new song up, Octavia and the rest of the group moved back to the couch. After they were all settled in their previous seats, Octavia turned her attention to Lyra. “Did your friend write that last song?”

“She did. She composed the music, wrote the lyrics, and recorded it, as well.”

“That’s impressive,” Octavia responded. “I didn’t expect to hear anything remotely that deep played, much less composed and recorded, by a DJ. It was a very good song; she’s very talented.”

“Yes, she is,” Lyra responded, with a proud smile on her face.

“I agree,” Beauty piped in. “I’m not much into electronica of any kind but Vinyl’s music is quite a bit different, and better, than I expected.”

At that point Bon Bon caught her girlfriend’s attention, leaving the cellist to her own devices. Octavia turned to the two Wonderbolts who appeared to be in the middle of a discussion about the beers they were drinking. She picked up her glass of wine and took a sip, marveling at how good it was. This club really does only stock the best.

After a moment the two pilots finished the discussion about their beer and went back to drinking it. Octavia took the opportunity to strike up a conversation with Rainbow Dash.

“So, how did you and Princess Twilight meet?”

“Heh, it’s pretty funny, actually; the day she was first sent to Ponyville by Princess Celestia, all those years ago, I literally ran into her and knocked her to the ground. I was the second person she met, after Applejack. Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, and myself were all in charge of some part of the preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration in Ponyville that year, and then she met Pinkie Pie at the surprise ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party that Pinkie throws for every new arrival to Ponyville.” Rainbow rolled her eyes in exasperation at the antics of her energetic, partygoing friend. “Then, the five of us wouldn’t leave her alone and we ended up following her into the Everfree Forest to rescue Princess Luna from Nightmare Moon. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

“Wow, that is quite the way to meet someone. It sounds like it was fated to be,” the cellist responded.

“Well, if the Princesses are right, that’s exactly what it was.” Dash glanced down at a ruby lightning bolt suspended by a gold chain that hung around her neck, matching the style of the marks on her thighs.

“That’s amazing,” Octavia remarked. She had almost finished her second glass of wine, as had Beauty, when the waitress came back around to see if they needed anything. She was almost to that pleasant buzzed state, so she gave Beauty a nod and the sousaphonist ordered another bottle of the Pinot Noir. The rest of the group made their orders as well and the waitress disappeared again to get their drinks.

“Yeah,” Rainbow continued, “it changed all of our lives, totally for the better!”

“It certainly seems like it,” Octavia said with a smile.

It was at this point that Spitfire decided to join the conversation. “So, Octavia, are you from Canterlot?”

“Yes, born and raised here,” the cellist replied.

“I thought that was the case, with your accent and the way you talk.”

“My accent is rather pronounced, isn’t it?” she asked, becoming a little self-conscious at having her voice and speech pattern scrutinised.

Spitfire’s hand moved up to play with the teardrop topaz that hung from her neck on a silver chain. “It’s alright; I kind of like your accent.”

Octavia brightened up a bit at the reassurance. “Oh; well, thank you.”

Spitfire smiled at the cellist. “So, where did you do your post-secondary work in music?”

“At the Royal Canterlot Academy of the Arts,” the cellist responded in a very sheepish tone, looking away. While she was proud of her upbringing and acted as someone of her status was expected to, she was also modest and did not like to brag or flaunt her achievements, or the fortunate circumstances with which she had grown up.

“Wow,” Dash said, at least somewhat impressed. Her girlfriend was more so.

“That’s quite the prestigious school,” Spitfire said.

“I suppose it is.” Octavia blushed a little at the praise.

“You don’t have to be so modest; it really is great that you were able to attend such a respected school! You must really be talented to have gone there.”

“I just don’t like to brag,” the cellist responded.

“That’s definitely a good thing, but don’t let it keep you from being proud of yourself and your accomplishments, or letting other people celebrate and be proud of you and your accomplishments,” the pilot said with a genuine smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Octavia smiled gratefully at the Wonderbolt in return.

At that time the waitress came back with their second round of drinks, handed them out and left again. Beauty and Octavia each poured themselves another glass of wine while the others tended to their beers and cocktails.

They chatted about random things for a while, but mostly Octavia, Beauty, and Harpo took the time to get to know the Wonderbolts pilots. As the midnight hour approached, the music faded out again, which drew the group's attention back to the DJ out on the stage.

“How you all doin’?! Keeping up with me?” DJ Pon3 shouted over the crowd, which was met with indistinguishable shouts and loud whistles.

“I’m glad you’re all enjoying the beats I’m throwing at you!” Vinyl said with a bright smile. “It’s been my great pleasure as always to rock you into another dimension, and I’d like to thank you all for coming out and making what I do worth it! While I do love spinning my beats and sharing my passion with you all, I’m cutting out early tonight!”

The revelation was met with “awwws” and groans of disapproval.

“I know, I know,” she said as she patted her hands in the air to calm their protests. “But I will leave you in the very capable hands of my good friend DJ Northern Lights, who will keep you phasing through space and time! Before I do though, allow me to hit you with my BASS CANNON!” As she said this, she hit a button on her machine that cued up the next track, a song with a bass line as deep as Ghastly Gorge.

After she sent the track on it’s course, she set her machine to automatically cue up the first song of Neon’s set, then turned around and walked to the back of the stage, where Neon Lights was waiting for her.

“Awesome as usual, Scratch,” he said. “You had them hooked from the very beginning.”

“Thanks, Neon. And thanks for taking over so I can hang out with my friends.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m happy to get the chance to do a set of my own!” Neon said, excited.

“Great.” Vinyl smiled and slapped Neon on the back with gusto. “It’s all yours, then.”

With that, Neon started toward the DJ booth and Vinyl turned and went through a door at the back of the stage that led to storage area, the power and electronics closet, and some dressing rooms, including her own private chamber. It was to this private room that she went.

She unlocked the door and went in, promptly collapsing on the black leather couch that rested against the far wall. She stayed like that for a few minutes, spent and in need of a breather. After she had laid there and enjoyed the almost-silence of the insulated room for a few minutes, she got up and pulled off her sweat-soaked cutoff tank-top followed by her white sports bra and tossed them into a clothes hamper in the far corner of the room. Moving to the closet, she pulled out a black sports bra and a towel and proceeded to wipe herself off.

Finished, she threw the towel into the clothes hamper and pulled on the sports bra, adjusting herself so that she was comfortable. She reapplied her deodorant and grabbed a black tank-top from the closet, pulled it on and shut the closet door. Walking to the large mirror on the other side of the room, she looked at herself and ran her fingers through her hair to adjust a few of the two-tone blue locks, then left the room, locking the door behind her.

Vinyl walked back to the stage and skirted it to the left, where some stairs and an ‘employee only’ entrance was. She walked through it and continued her trek along the left side of the club, toward the VIP lounges.

Reaching the lounge she had reserved for her friends and stepping up into it, Vinyl swept her arms out wide as she approached the group with a wide, ecstatic smile on her face.

“Hello, fancy people!” Vinyl exclaimed as she walked to the central couch, the group having just noticed her entrance.

“Vinyl!” Lyra said, her face brightening with a smile. She got up and went to hug Vinyl as the rest of the group rose.

“Heartstrings,” Vinyl said in a playful tone, with a warm smile on her face. “Have you all been enjoying yourselves?”

“We’ve been having a smashing time, love,” the lyrist responded.

The two women released each other and Vinyl turned to greet the next closest person, which happened to be Harpo.

“Harpo! It’s good to see you; been a while!” The DJ raised her right hand for a fist bump.

“Pon3, always a pleasure,” he replied with a smile, as he balled his right hand into a fist and bumped it against hers. “That was a great set you played.”

“Thanks, I’d been working on that one for a while. Now I get to start work on another one!” she replied and rolled her eyes a little.

“Beauty, you look amazing, as usual!” Vinyl stepped over to embrace her. “Is that one of Rarity’s?” she asked after she released the woman, gesturing to her dress.

“It is! Didn’t she do a marvelous job?” Beauty gushed.

“There’s no one better,” the DJ replied. “She really is a master of her craft.”

Bon Bon stepped up to Vinyl’s side and Beauty moved away a little to give the women some room.

“Hey, Bonnie,” Vinyl said, as she gave the woman a warm hug. She really had a soft spot for the woman who stole her best friend’s heart.

“Hello, Vinyl,” the candymaker said, accompanied by a brilliant smile. “I’m glad you could join us.”

“Me, too! I need some time to unwind, too, you know?” the spinner replied with a smirk.

She looked past Bon Bon’s right shoulder to see perhaps the most alluring woman she had ever seen, clad in a long black dress with a slit up the right side that allowed a shapely, tanned leg to be seen. It almost left the extroverted DJ speechless. Almost.

“And who is this stunning creature?!” the DJ said, as she stepped towards the cellist.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

As the DJ made her greetings, Octavia Melody, refined woman of high social standing and cellist extraordinaire, could only stare at this short, brash, sexy woman.

Seeing her up close, now, she really is beautiful, both in the traditional sense and in a very wild, blithe sort of way. Why am I thinking like this again?! Ugh. She shook her head.She certainly seems carefree, but there is something else there, as well. A tightness in her voice? the cellist wondered, unable to pin down what she sensed about the woman. But my goodness, she has such presence! She walks into a room and everyone stops thinking, stops doing, to focus on her. She’s so charismatic! And she’s a DJ! Who IS this woman?!

Before she could contemplate it any further, the DJ walked toward her.

“And who is this stunning creature?!”

Before she could reply, Lyra stepped in with a dazzling smile. “Vinyl, this is Octavia Melody, Principal cellist and Concertmaster for the Canterlot Royal Orchestra. Octavia, this is Vinyl Scratch, my best friend.”

“Right, the cellist I’ve heard so much about!”

“How do you do, Miss Scratch?” Octavia asked, as she looked into the seemingly ever-present sunglasses of the shorter woman.

“I do quite awesome, thank you! And please, just Vinyl, none of that ‘miss’ crap. And how about you?” the woman replied, a cocky half-grin on her face.

She’s rather forward and crass though, isn’t she? Though, Charisma, presence and beauty… there I go again! It must be the wine. All those things aside, I’m not sure what else I was expecting from a DJ.

“I am doing quite well, thank you,” the cellist said in her melodic voice. “Tonight has been a lot of fun so far, a nice change of pace.”

“That’s great!” Vinyl exclaimed. Mhmm, great. Damn, her voice! I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything so sexy. Just the slightest bit of huskiness to it, very feminine, a little musical, and oh so classy!I always did have a thing for classy women. And her eyes... Alright, stop, she’d never be into someone like you anyway!

“Vinyl.”

“Yo, Scratch!” a voice off to her left said loudly, and she felt a firm punch to her left shoulder.

“Hmm?” She looked to her left to see who was talking to her.

“You alright?” Spitfire asked. “You zoned out for a bit.”

“Me? Pfft, yeah! I’m great,” Vinyl replied. “I’m just”- she paused for a heartbeat -”hungry! Yeah, I’m hungry. I’m going to go put in an order at the kitchen, does anyone else want anything?”

“Actually, I think we’re all probably at least a little hungry,” Lyra said.

“Alright,” the two-tone blue haired woman said. “I’ll put in an order for a bunch of things. They have some really great food here.” She looked over at Octavia. “Tavi, you probably like risotto, yeah?”

The cellist blinked twice before replying. “I beg your pardon?” Did she just give me a nickname?! Tavi? Takes all of the class right out of my name. Though, it does have a nice ring to it… But that’s not the point!

“You know, sticky rice stuff cooked with meat or cheese?” the DJ responded.

“Well, yes, I do, but my name is Octavia,” the raven haired woman said in a firm voice.

“Alright, Miss priss; have it your way,” Vinyl said with a small smile. She looked over the rest of the group. “Alright, I’ll be right back.”

The DJ got up before Octavia could give an indignant response to the snide remark.

When she turned to walk away, she passed right by Spitfire and Rainbow Dash. She stopped for a moment, long enough to say, with a grin, “Nice to see you two stick jockeys again! You both look hot, by the way. Be back in a minute!” And then she was gone.

The cellist looked at Lyra with a bewildered look on her face. “What just happened?”

Lyra chuckled. “You just met one of the most unique people you’re ever likely to encounter. Don’t take offense to anything she says or does; she just speaks her mind and tends to treat everyone she meets as a friend unless they give her a reason not to. And really, having her as a friend is much better than the alternative.”

Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Vinyl get lost looking at someone like that. Lyra thought as Vinyl walked away.She must really find Octavia attractive. Not that she doesn’t live up to every bit of it, and then some. The girl really is stunning. Can she resist Vinyl’s wild charm, though? I doubt it.

Vinyl Scratch walked past the dance floor, still full of people writhing, jumping and swaying to the hypnotic sounds of Neon Lights. She kept on past the people at the tables in the dining area, looking earnestly into the eyes of their romantic companion or talking animatedly with their mates, able to enjoy their food and drink far enough away from the source of the music that they could converse. She made it to the bar and after only a moment of waiting was able to flag down the bartender, Berry Punch.

“What’s up, boss lady?”

“Hey, Berry! I need to put in an order for the kitchen and something to drink,” the DJ replied.

“Alright.” The bartender walked to the nearby computer and tapped on the screen. “What would you like?”

Vinyl tapped her chin as she rattled off some items from the menu, having memorised it long ago. “Let’s do an order of risotto, chips and salsa, mozzarella sticks, shrimp cocktail, spicy tuna rolls, salmon nigiri, chips with spinach and artichoke dip, and calamari.”

“Alright,” the cerise haired woman said. “And what do you want to drink?”

“I’ll take a bloody mary, spicy, and use the Grey Goose; no cheap shit!” Vinyl said with a smile at her favourite bartender.

“You got it!” Berry said as she went to make Vinyl’s drink.

Vinyl plopped down onto the closest chair with a sigh, pushed her glasses up onto her forehead and rubbed her eyes.

What are you thinking, Scratch, mooning over her like that? A voice in her head, heavy with despair, said. I’m thinking she’s gorgeous and it’s been a long time since I last entered the dating pool. You don’t have a chance; she’s not your type! You only attract abusive, uncaring women, because that’s all you deserve.That’s not true! No?Then how do you explain Moondancer AND Lightning Dust after her?I was young and stupid; Moondancer was a rookie mistake. Besides, it wasn’t her fault; she was confused... Whatever, you don’t have a chance with a woman of her calibre.She felt her composure begin to crack. no No NO! Stop it! Not here, you will NOT do this here. She took a deep breath to calm herself, then another. She slipped her sunglasses back over her eyes and by the time Berry Punch returned with her drink, she had donned the facade of the confident and carefree DJ that everyone knew and loved once again.

“Here you are.” Berry set the glass down in front of the DJ. “The food will be out in about 20 minutes or so.”

“Awesome; thanks Berry! Cheers!” The spinner got up and made her way back to the VIP lounge with her drink.

When she got back to the lounge, the entire group was laughing as Spitfire told them about how Soarin’, one of the other Wonderbolts, bought an entire apple pie from Applejack at the Grand Gala the month prior and almost lost the whole thing when he dropped it, but Rainbow Dash, with her lightning fast reflexes, saved it. Soarin’ then proceeded to eat the pie with no utensils, right out of the pie tin.

“I swear, if the rest of us weren’t around to keep him in check, he’d start acting like a neanderthal!” Spitfire said in exasperation, and they all laughed again.

“Vinyl, love, there you are!” Lyra exclaimed. “And you got yourself a drink, brilliant. Ready to unwind a bit?”

“You better believe it!” the DJ said, as she walked around the table and took a seat in the only open area left, between the pilots and Octavia. “Did I miss much?”

“Not really, just the story about Soarin’ almost ruining his whole pie that he bought at the Gala.” Spitfire said with an exasperated look on her face.

Vinyl smirked. “Heh, I bet that was pretty funny. He is so weird.”

“Tell me about it,” Dash said, with a roll of her eyes. “We see it on an almost daily basis.”

“That must be entertaining,” the DJ said.

“Eh, not always as much as you would think,” the Wonderbolt Captain retorted. “It can be kind of annoying.”

“Ah. Neon is quirky, too, but he’s usually easy to get on with, which is great since I’m around him a lot.” the spinner said with a look of relief on her face.

“Is he your boyfriend?” the well-meaning, but somewhat naive cellist asked.

“Mine?” Vinyl looked at the cellist in surprise. “Oh, Luna, no,” she continued when Octavia nodded.

When Octavia gave her a somewhat puzzled look, as she wondered why that was such a surprising question to the woman, Vinyl said “I bat for the other team.”

“I’m sorry, bat for the other team?” the cellist cocked her head to the side in confusion.

“I like women,” the DJ clarified in a flat tone.

“Oh!” she squeaked adorably, in surprise and embarrassment, a hand coming up to cover her mouth and her cheeks colouring the slightest bit. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to pry.”

Vinyl waved a hand in a dismissive manner. “Don’t worry about it; I make no secret of my sexual preference.”

Eager to change the subject to something less personal, Octavia asked “So, where did you learn to DJ?”

As Vinyl and Octavia engaged in their conversation, Lyra began a conversation about the Sun Celebration preparations with the Wonderbolts and the other two musicians, leaving the cellist and the DJ to get to know each other, just as Lyra had planned.

“Oh, I started tinkering with Electronica back in secondary school, but I went to University at the Royal Canterlot Academy of the Arts, and that’s where I really learned how to spin.”

“Really?” Octavia perked up, an interested look on her face. “I went there, too; that’s where I learned to play the cello. When did you graduate?”

“Five years ago in June,” Vinyl replied.

“Oh, that was the year I started attending,” the cellist said.

“Really? Did you graduate last year, then?”

“No, two years ago, actually,” the raven haired woman replied.

Right then, Honey Wine came in with the food Vinyl had ordered, and started to spread it around the table in the middle of the group. Octavia took the opportunity to refill her wine glass, her 4th glass of the night; she had attained a proper buzz by that point, but not enough to hinder her cognitive or conversational abilities.

Honey Wine asked if they needed anything else; when they all said no, the waitress took her leave once again.

“You ordered sushi!” Octavia nearly gushed. “I love sushi!”

“Me, too,” Vinyl responded, with an easy smile. “And they have a great sushi chef here.”

They all thanked Vinyl for ordering the food and began to eat. Octavia took a piece of the salmon nigiri in her chopsticks, dipped it in the wasabi soy sauce and ate it. When she turned back to Vinyl, it was with a satisfied smile on her face.

“You’re right, it is excellent,” the cellist said.

“It’s not often I’m wrong,” Vinyl replied with a wink and a half smirk. “Okay,” she continued, “so let me see if I can get this straight; you first attended the Academy five years ago?”

“Yes,” Octavia replied.

“And you graduated two years ago?”

“That’s right.” Octavia nodded.

“How old are you?” asked Vinyl.

“Twenty two.”

Vinyl cocked her head at Octavia, did some quick math, and asked “So, you started attending the Academy when you were seventeen and graduated when you were twenty? Is that right?”

“Yes,” the cellist replied.

Vinyl picked up a mozzarella stick, dipped it in marinara sauce, and ate half of it, but not before a bit of sauce dripped onto her tank top, unnoticed by the DJ.

“You really are some kind of prodigy, then, aren’t you?” The blue haired DJ gave Octavia an impressed look.

“I suppose so,” Octavia said, a little more free with her words now that she had a proper buzz. “I am the youngest person to ever graduate from the Academy with their Doctoral degree.”

Vinyls eyes widened. “You got your Doctorate in music at the age of twenty?!” she asked, truly surprised and impressed, neither of which happened very often.

“Yes?” the cellist replied in a quiet voice, as she decided then was a good time to become sheepish. She finally noticed the marinara sauce spilled on Vinyl’s tank top.

“Um, Vinyl, you’ve got red on you.”

The DJ looked down and saw the sauce. Grabbing one of the numerous cloth napkins that had accompanied the food, she wiped it up, threw the napkin on the table and looked back at the cellist.

“That really is impressive, getting your Doctorate in only three years, and before most people graduate with their four year degree. Speaking of that, what happened with your Bachelors and Masters degrees?”

“I essentially tested out of my Bachelor's degree. I completed much of my baccalaureate core in secondary school, then at the Academy I took a specialised test based on music history, music theory, and composition. I also had to perform for a board made up of the Dean and several professors. Both of my parents hold Doctorates in music and they had helped educate and train me since I was very young, so I was well prepared for the tests. I suppose you could say I was born to music,” the cellist explained.

“Um, wow; okay,” the DJ said. “What about your Master's degree?”

“Oh, I completed my Masters the first year at the Academy, then my Doctoral over the following two years.”

“Holy shit,” Vinyl exclaimed, as she took it all in.

Octavia gave the DJ an unamused glare. “Really, Vinyl, is the language necessary?”

“Heh, sorry, Miss priss,” said the spinner with a mischievous grin. Octavia let out a “hmph!” at the use of the disparaging term again, but let it pass at that.

“So, you’re such a virtuoso that you completed your Master's and Doctoral degrees in only three years!”

“Well, that, taking twenty credits a term year-round, and having absolutely no social life,” Octavia responded, a hint of regret in her voice.

No social life while she was at University? My time there were some of the best years of my life! Maybe I can help her make up for some of what she missed out on.

“Damn. Well, it all paid off, Principal cellist and Concertmaster of the Royal Canterlot Orchestra.” The DJ flashed a brilliant smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle up, though Octavia couldn’t see it due to the sunglasses the DJ still wore. “You’ve got a longer list of acclaimed accomplishments at twenty two years old than most people achieve in their entire lives.”

“I suppose I do,” said Octavia in a self-conscious tone.

Aww, how adorable; Miss priss has a modest streak. That just makes her that much more attractive Vinyl thought, somewhat sullen.

Vinyl gave the cellist a confident smile. “Aww, c’mon; you should be proud of all of your great accomplishments!”

“Oh, I am proud of myself, I just don’t like to flaunt it.”

“Well, I guess modesty is a good trait to have,” the DJ said.

Octavia was becoming more and more self conscious and wanted to shift the topic of conversation away from herself. “Vinyl, why are you wearing your sunglasses, even though you’re inside and it’s night?”

“Well, it’s part of my DJ persona, a”-

“But you’re done DJing for the night,” Octavia interrupted.

“And, it’s a comfort thing,” the DJ finished.

“Oh, I see.” Octavia was already a little curious about why she wore those sunglasses indoors and at night, but she suspected there was a psychological reason to it, rather than a physical one, and she became even more curious. Though, it would need to wait for another time, she knew, after they had gotten to know each other better.

Emboldened once more, Octavia said “You know, I must admit that I had certain”- she paused for a couple heartbeats, searching for the right words -“expectations when I came here tonight; expectations about this club, about the music, about you, and I must say, almost all of them have turned out to be at least not wholly accurate. Your music, for example, wasn’t nearly what I anticipated. I had assumed it would be nothing but bass lines lacking melody or rhythm, but your music had it all, and nicely balanced, for the most part.”

“I’m not your average DJ.” Vinyl gave another confident half-grin. “I’m not one of these dubstep kids, who only listen to songs with the hardest drops. I came to love Techno for the rollercoaster of sound it takes you on, the peaks and valleys, highs and lows. Truly good Techno has a rhythm and melody that will make you sway along with it, and enough bass to make you bob your head and keep it balanced out. Great Techno transports you, takes you away. That’s what I do, that’s why I’m a DJ.”

“You certainly know what you’re doing,” the cellist began. “And you obviously have a deep understanding of music. I was told that you composed, recorded and sang the lyrics for that song about the lover. Is that right?”

“It is, though not many people know that. I’d appreciate it if you would keep that to yourself.”

“Oh, yes, of course; I will,” Octavia said, not sure why the DJ wouldn’t want that known, but she would respect the woman’s wishes.

“Thank you,” Vinyl said in a soft voice.

“The rest of your music was actually quite enjoyable, as well,” the cellist said, eager to move on from what appeared to be a sensitive topic for the shorter woman.

Vinyl brightened up a bit. “Thanks! I’d worked on that one for a while. It is actually the first set where I’ve included the song I wrote. Now I have to start working on a new set.”

As Vinyl was talking, Octavia saw a flash of silver in the DJ’s mouth; she thought she saw it earlier but wasn’t sure, now she was positive.

“Is that a tongue piercing?” the cellist asked, surprise evident in her voice and expression.

“It sure is!”

“Doesn’t that hurt, or get in the way?” Octavia asked.

“It hurt when I first got it, but that was it,” the DJ replied. “After I got used to it I really stopped noticing it, so it really doesn’t get in the way.”

“But why would you even do that to yourself?!” the cellist asked.

“It was another way to be different; I like to go against the grain. Plus it fits my DJ image. It can be fun sometimes, too.” Vinyl gave a mischievous smile and waggled her eyebrows a bit.

“Right…” Octavia responded. She had an idea what Vinyl meant by that, but either way she was pretty sure it was inappropriate in one way or another.

They were silent for a moment, and Vinyl looked around the room, as her mind wandered to preparing her next set. She surveyed her group of friends, thinking about the type of people she was surrounded by. Harpo’s a classical musician, Beauty’s a classical musician, Bon Bon makes yummy candy, Lyra’s a classical musician, Octavia’s a classical musician. Then, inspiration struck her. I usually just sample guitars and drums, maybe the occasional piano, for my music. What about Classical instruments?! Wind and string instruments...

She turned to the cellist. “I’ve just had an idea! What would you say about recording some music together? I’ve just decided that I want my next set to have a Classical music theme!”

Octavia was at first a little put-off. “Classical music mixed in with Techno?” she asked, a bit puzzled. “I don’t know about that. How would that even work?!”

Vinyl wasn’t surprised that she was initially resistant to the idea. “Think about it this way, you will be enriching a genre, bringing a whole new level of melody, to electronic music! You’ll be making it better!”

Octavia took a moment to think it over. When she says it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad. Would I be doing music as a whole a service by contributing to the electronic genre? I wonder if this could help with my creative block, having some outside influence and perspective. Well, I’ve been talking about a change of pace, haven’t I?

“Alright; I’ll give it a chance. I’ll try it for one session and see what happens.”

“I couldn’t ask for anything more!” the DJ exclaimed, an elated smile on her face.

At that moment, the music faded out, and Neon’s voice came through the speakers. “Yo, technoheads, how you doin’?!”

This was met with loud cheers and whistles from the crowd before him.

“I’m glad you’re all enjoying the experience! Once again I am DJ Northern Lights and it has been my great pleasure to spin for you tonight. Unfortunately, it’s almost that time again, when you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here! I do have one last song for you all, though! On behalf of the illustrious DJ Pon3 and myself, thank you for coming out to the Prancing Pony, and we wish you all a good night!” As he said the last word, he hit a button, cueing in the final song. He set the machine to automatically go to standby when the track finished, turned around and walked to the back of the stage and the dressing rooms behind it.

“Wow, I didn’t realise how late it is,” Lyra said.

Beauty Brass yawned. “Yeah, it’s past our bedtime.”

“Mine, too,” agreed the cellist.

They all stood and began to gather their belongings. When they all were ready, Vinyl led the way out of the lounge. They passed by the decent sized crowd still dancing and sweating to the last song in front of the stage, and headed toward the front entrance. The DJ opened the door, holding it for the group to exit.

They all stepped out into the brisk, early morning spring air and began to give hugs and say goodbye to their friends, new and old.

“I’m glad you all came out; it was really nice to see you all,” Vinyl said, giving each of her friends a hug and a “Goodbye.” She saved Octavia for last.

“It was great finally meeting you, Octavia,” Vinyl said with a charming smile, finally using the cellist’s full name.

Octavia returned the smile. “Likewise, Vinyl; it was a pleasure. I had a surprising amount of fun; thank you.”

“Anytime!” While the rest of the group hailed cabs or, in the case of Spitfire and Rainbow Dash, went to their car, Vinyl took out a pen that she carried for the occasional autograph. She reached down and brought up the cellist’s left hand. “May I?”

Octavia was a little confused, but she assented anyway. “Of course.”

Vinyl wrote down her phone number and the address to her flat at the Mandarin Oriental on the palm of the cellist’s hand. “That’s my number and address. Is Monday too soon to do some recording?”

“No; Monday would be just fine, as long as it’s before practice with the Orchestra at 3:00pm.” Octavia looked down at her palm and gasped. “You live at the Mandarin Oriental?!”

Now it was Vinyl’s turn to be sheepish. “Umm, yeah,” she said in a soft voice. Eager to change the subject, she added “So, I’ll see you at my place at 10:00am on Monday? That should be enough time for a first session.”

“Umm, yes, that should be fine. See you Monday at 10:00am,” Octavia said, a little dazed, dumbfounded that this DJ lived in one of the most expensive, and exclusive, high rise flats in Canterlot.

“Awesome! Don’t forget to bring your cello! Goodnight, Octavia,” Vinyl said with a warm smile.

“Goodnight, Vinyl,” the cellist said, and turned toward the curb to hail her own cab.

“‘Night, guys!” Vinyl called and waved to the other musicians and Bon Bon, who were just about to get into a cab. They waved back and Vinyl went back into the club.

“Goodnight, ladies,” Octavia said as a cab approached. She opened the door and climbed in.

“Where to, ma’am?” the driver asked.

“The Veneto, please.”

“Certainly, ma’am,” the driver responded.

The cab pulled away as the cellist thought about the intriguing new friend she had made, if she could really call her that. Octavia was fascinated with the brash DJ; she thought that there was much more to her than met the eye, and decided then that she would spend time with her and get to know the mysterious woman that was Vinyl Scratch.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Vinyl Scratch went back into the club, which was quickly emptying. The last track in Neon’s set had ended, and the speakers were still and silent. Servers flitted here and there, cleaned tables, collected the last cheques of the night, or reminded people that the club was now closed. A few bouncers guided the remnants of the crowd through the front doors, shooing off a few drunk patrons attempting to reach Vinyl, presumably for autographs.

The DJ ignored the end-of-the-night activity and continued back to her private room. When she got there, Vinyl contemplated resting on the couch again for a bit, but she really just wanted to get home. She went to her closet and pulled out her riding gear and a pair of jeans. She changed into her jeans and put her shoes back on, throwing the shorts in the clothes hamper as she stood up from the couch. Last, Vinyl took her backpack out of the closet and shut the door. Opening the backpack, she took the small bag of dirty laundry from the clothes hamper and secured it in the bag.

Ready to go, the DJ put on the riding jacket, locked up her room and left through the back entrance of the club. Stepping out onto the private parking lot, Vinyl walked to her Ducati sportbike, straddled it, and started the engine. She put on her helmet as she let the bike warm up a bit, enjoying the cool night air. After a couple minutes, she kicked up the stand and headed to the security gate. Vinyl entered the appropriate number sequence on the pad by the gate, and it opened.

She drove through the gate and headed for home. After about fifteen minutes she made it to her building and turned into the underground parking garage. The DJ parked the bike next to her grey Land Rover, and started walking towards the elevator as she took off her helmet.

She entered the lift and hit the button for the 75th floor. The DJ leaned against the wall until the car stopped, opened it’s doors and she stepped out into the hallway of her floor and headed towards her flat. Unlocking her door, she went in, slipped off her shoes in the entryway, and continued into the flat.

The DJ hung her jacket on a chair in the dining area, and placed her helmet on the table. She went past the open kitchen, and down the long hall into her bedroom, dropped the backpack into a corner, took off her jeans, tank top, and sports bra, and climbed into her bed. The last thing she did was take off her sunglasses and place them, along with her cellphone, onto the nightstand.

She was tired, but sleep didn’t come to her then. Vinyl thought about her evening, about how great it was to see all of her friends together in one place. She thought about the classy, beautiful cellist she had met, and how it made her heart race.

What a knockout that girl is. Beautiful, intelligent, and so, so sexy. Her voice, and her eyes, just, damn. She‘s the complete package. A little snooty, sure, but nothing some time with DJ Pon3 won’t fix! She even agreed to come play her cello and record with me!

Vinyl grinned at the thought of spending time with the woman. But after a few seconds, her grin slipped into a frown, as the voice of despair came creeping out from the dark places of her mind. What do you think is going to happen, Scratch? She’s going to see you for who you are, and be attracted to you?! Maybe. Why not?! Wrong. Because you’re broken, hopeless, and screwed up in ways that can’t be fixed. What could you possibly offer a beautiful, elegant, refined woman like her? You’re brash, damaged, and worthless; her complete opposite.Maybe, but I’m also generous, caring, and outgoing; I can introduce her to a whole new world, get her out of her shell. Maybe, but is that worth dealing with you and your problems?But... Don’t fool yourself, Scratch; you could never be good enough for her, you could never deserve her, and she could never care about you, because you’re not worth the effort.

She rubbed the fingers of her right hand over a long scar that ran from her left wrist to about the middle of her left forearm, and her composure shattered. Feeling helpless and alone, Vinyl curled into a ball and began to sob.

She clutched her pillow to her face and cried into it, the blackness of her despair consuming her. Alone, Vinyl eventually cried herself to sleep.

(3) A Ride Through the Countryside

Vinyl’s flat, Sunday, April 21st

Vinyl was awoken by the rays of sunlight from the early morning sun shining onto her face, as she had forgotten to close the curtains the night before. She looked at the clock on the nightstand, saw that it was seven thirty in the morning, and groaned.

“Ugh, it’s too fucking early!” Vinyl said to herself, irritated.

She threw aside her comforter and sheets and rolled out of bed. She stretched out her lithe form, then grabbed a white tank top from her closet to cover her naked torso. She still had a pair of black cotton briefs on and didn’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, so she didn’t bother to put on anything else.

Hungry, she went to the kitchen and threw a couple pieces of bread into the toaster, then got out the peanut butter, and honey. When the toast was done, she put them on a plate, and spread peanut butter and honey on them. She poured herself a glass of milk and, plate in hand, went to sit at the table in the spacious dining area to eat.

As she sat there and ate, she thought about her breakdown the night before. She did everything she could to avoid episodes like that, sometimes mixing alcohol and painkillers to numb her against the pain of her memories and silence the voice of doubt and despair within her.

I need to call the Doc she thought. I’m almost out of Vicodin.

She finished eating her breakfast and put the dishes in the dishwasher. She went back into her room, grabbed her cell phone off of the nightstand and started to scroll through her contacts. When she found the one she wanted, she dialed the number and sat on her bed.

It only rang twice before a male voice answered “Dr. Whooves office, how can I help you?”

“I’d like to speak with Doctor Whooves, please,” Vinyl said. “Tell him it’s Vinyl Scratch.”

“Just a moment, please,” the man responded, and piano music began to play when she was put on hold.

She had been on hold for about a minute when an older, more distinguished male voice answered “Hello?”

“Hey, Doc,” the DJ responded.

“Oh, hello, Vinyl,” the Doctor said. “How are you doing, today?”

“I’ve been better, if I’m honest,” Vinyl replied. “I need another refill.”

The Doctor sighed. “Vinyl, you can’t keep doing this. Your motorcycle accident was over a year ago; if anyone were to ever look into this deep enough they would figure it out and we would both be snookered,” the Doctor said.

Vinyl waited a few beats before she replied “I know. But sometimes the pain, the feelings, the memories and nightmares, are too much, and I need something to help numb the pain.”

“Vinyl, everyone has feelings and memories they’d rather not deal with, and everyone has nightmares; even big scary monsters from under the bed have nightmares. You can’t keep living like this, running away from your feelings and dreams,” the Doctor responded.

“I promise I will try to get over my issues somehow, maybe seek professional help, just please do this one more time?” Vinyl pleaded.

He sighed again. “Alright, against my better judgement, I’ll call it in,” he said. “But I will hold you to this promise, OK? I’ve known you most of your life and I care about you. Your father was one of my best friends, and I’ll try to help you any way I can.”

Now it was Vinyl’s turn to sigh. “I know,” Vinyl said. “I appreciate it, Doc.”

“Alright,” the Doctor said. “It’ll be ready in an hour. Take care of yourself, OK? If there’s anything I can do to ACTUALLY help, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“I won’t. Thanks again, Doctor,” the DJ responded.

“You’re welcome. Goodbye, Vinyl,” he said.

“Bye, Doc,” Vinyl said, and ended the call. She put the phone back on the nightstand and fell backwards onto her bed with a sigh. She rubbed her face in frustration.

He’s right, though. I can’t keep living like this She thought.Eventually, I’ll either royally fuck up and overdose, or life will become too big again, and I won’t call Lyra this time. But, what do I do? Really,what is some shrink going to tell me that will make all of this go away? Sure, they could load me up on anti-depressants, but how is that really any better than what I’ve been doing? It’s still just a bandaid on a gunshot wound; it doesn’t actually fix the problem. She sighed again. Well, I’ll take a shower then go pick up the pills.

She got up, grabbed a pair of purple boy shorts and matching bra, and went into the master bathroom. She turned on the shower to a nice, warm temperature and stripped out of her tank top and underwear. She stepped into the large shower room, stood under the central rainfall shower head and let the water soak her two-tone blue hair. She tilted her head up into the stream. The water cascaded down her slender neck, over her perky breasts, and down her toned stomach. For a few minutes, she just stood there and enjoyed the feeling of the warm water as it flowed over her graceful body, as it carried away her bothers.

Vinyl took a bottle of rose scented shampoo & conditioner from a shelf built into the tiled wall and massaged it into her two-tone blue hair. She left it to soak, then grabbed the loofa, worked some liquid soap that smelled of coconut into it, and lathered it all over her body. After she had herself good and soapy, she picked up a razor and shaved her armpits and legs. Next she shaved her bikini area, leaving a small inverted triangle that pointed down to her lady bits. Her ablutions complete, she stepped back under the shower and rinsed off.

She enjoyed the warmth of the shower for a few more minutes then stepped out and dried herself off. Once she was dry, she put on her bra and boyshorts and went back to the bedroom to finish dressing. A pair of socks, jeans, and a brown t-shirt later, Vinyl was about ready to go. Since it was a nice day, the DJ decided she would ride to the pharmacy. She grabbed her helmet, slipped into her shoes, slid her purple shades over her eyes, and headed down to the garage. Once at her bike, she started it up and left the underground garage.

She weaved in and out of the light Sunday morning traffic and enjoyed the ride. The sun shone brightly upon her, warmed her pale skin, while the cool spring air blew through her thin shirt and contrasted in a comfortable way with the warmth of the sun. She wrenched on the throttle, her excitement and focus rose as she rode the line between two cars to get ahead of them. She felt more alive when she rode, with nothing to protect her except her own skill in riding.

After about 20 minutes of riding, she reached the pharmacy, parked her bike on the street and went inside. She approached the counter, and the guy working said “Good morning, what can I do for you?”

“I’m here to pick up a prescription for Vinyl Scratch,” the DJ replied.

“Just a moment and I’ll go see if it’s ready,” the man replied.

While the Pharmacist went to find her prescription, Vinyl thought about what to do with the rest of her day. There’s not really much I can do for the new set until I get some samples recorded. Maybe Lyra will want to have lunch, and I’ll catch up on some video games in the afternoon. I think there are some dragons I’ve been neglecting to slay.

Her decision made, Vinyl took out her cell phone and sent Lyra a text.

‘You awake, lazy ass?’ she wrote.

‘Yep, what’s up?’ Lyra responded.

‘Lunch?’ the DJ asked.

‘Sure. Where you want to go?’ Lyra asked.

‘Have you ever tried shawarma? There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I want to try it.’ Vinyl replied.

‘Sounds good. But where’s here?’ the lyrist asked.

‘The drug store off 13th and Burnside.’ the DJ responded.

‘The drugstore? Really, Vinyl?’ Lyra wrote back.

‘I’m not in the fucking mood, Heartstrings. Do you want to get lunch, or not?’ Vinyl replied.

‘Yeah. Meet you there in 20, cool?’ Lyra asked.

‘Yeah. See you in a bit.’ Vinyl wrote.

After about another minute the Pharmacist came back. “Alright, prescription for Vicodin for Vinyl Scratch. Have you taken this before?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Vinyl replied.

“So you know the side effects and precautions? Don’t take on an empty stomach, don’t take with alcohol, etc.?” the Pharmacist asked.

“Yep,” she said.

“Alright, that’ll be eighty five bits,” the man said.

Vinyl reached into the back pocket of her jeans, pulled out her debit card and handed it to the Pharmacist. Once the transaction was complete, she went back out to her bike and rode to the restaurant.

She parked in front of the small restaurant, went inside and sat at a table in the back. When the waitress came around, Vinyl ordered some hot mint tea to drink while she waited for her friend.

After about fifteen minutes of waiting, Lyra showed up and took a seat across from Vinyl.

“What’s up, Scratch?” the Lyrist asked.

“I woke up too goddess-damned early this morning, that’s what,” Vinyl grumbled.

“How’d that happen?” Lyra asked.

“I forgot to close the curtains before I went to bed last night,” the DJ replied.

“That sucks,” the mint haired woman said. “Speaking of last night, did you have fun?”

At that time, the waitress came back around for their orders, and both women ordered the lamb shawarma; Vinyl’s without tomatoes. The waitress went off to put in their orders and the musicians continued talking.

“Yeah, it was great,” Vinyl said. She took off her sunglasses and rubbed her eyes. “I’m glad I got to hang out with Spit and RD for the first time in freaking ever, and it was nice to see Beauty and Harpo again, too.”

“Yeah, I know Spitfire really missed you,” Lyra responded. “What about Octavia?”

“What about her?” the DJ replied, doing her best to appear nonchalant.

“What did you think of her?” the lyrist asked.

“Well, she was nice. A little snooty, but not as bad as I would have expected from someone with her background. A good conversationalist when she opens up, too,” Vinyl said.

“And?” Lyra pressed.

“And,”- Vinyl paused for a couple beats, thinking. She dropped all pretense of appearing uninterested, and replaced it with a goofy smile -”she’s drop-dead gorgeous,” Vinyl finished, a hint of excitement in her voice.

“Ha!” Lyra exclaimed. “I knew it! I’ve never seen you get lost while looking at someone like you did with her last night.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah; laugh it up. I’m human after all,” the DJ said and stuck her studded tongue out at her friend.

“So, what are you going to do?” the lyrist asked.

“What do you mean, what am I going to do?” Vinyl retorted.

“I mean, what are you going to do about our cellist?” Lyra asked. “You find her attractive and at least tolerable to be around so far.”

“Well, yeah, I do, but- I mean, come on, Lyr, a classy girl like her is never going to be interested in me, even if she does bat for the same team, and just doesn’t know it yet,” the DJ replied.

“Oh, trust me, that is the case, and I think she’ll realise it soon enough,” Lyra said. “And, don’t sell yourself short; I think you have already started to capture her interest.”

Vinyl just looked at her friend with a pained, doubtful look on her face.

They were interrupted by the arrival of the waitress with their food. After the waitress left, they took a bite of their wraps.

“Wow, this is really good!” Vinyl exclaimed.

“Yeah, it is,” Lyra agreed. “Nice job choosing this place. But, back to what we were talking about. What did you give me that look for? Come on, spill it.”

“I,” Vinyl began, then looked away from her friend and paused for a few seconds. She turned her head back to Lyra, defeat and despair in her ruby eyes, and continued “I had a breakdown last night. I was feeling good, optimistic, but I couldn’t stop myself from despairing, from thinking about all the reasons why Octavia wouldn’t like me or why I’m not good enough and don’t deserve someone like her.”

“I know I can’t stop you from having those thoughts and feelings,” the lyrist responded. “But I’m going to do everything I can to prove to you that you’re wrong. I watched Octavia last night, while you were on stage; she couldn’t look away from you. At the very least, she’s intrigued by you, by this wild and carefree person she’s never encountered the likes of before. Take the chance, get to know her Vinyl. Let her get to know you.”

“And when she finds out how damaged, how fucked up I am? She’ll abandon me too,” the DJ retorted.

“I’ve known Octavia for a few years, now; I can tell you she’s not like Lightning Dust. She bends over backwards for those she cares about, and I’m confident she’ll come to care about you. She’ll be there for you,” Lyra replied.

“Well, she’s coming over tomorrow morning to do some recording with me, so we’ll see what happens, I guess,” Vinyl said.

“That’s great!” Lyra exclaimed. “Just, try to keep an open mind, and try not to doubt yourself at every turn. I really think this can work.”

“If you say so,” the DJ said, her voice heavy with doubt.

Lyra decided to leave it at that, and changed the subject. “So, what are you going to do for the rest of the day?” She asked.

“I’ll spend a little bit of time prepping my equipment for tomorrow and then probably spend the rest of the afternoon playing video games. You?” Vinyl replied.

“Well, Bonnie and I have a date night planned. I’m making dinner then we’re going to go see a movie,” Lyra said.

“Sounds like a good way to spend a Sunday evening,” the DJ said.

“Yeah, it’s been a while since we had a date night,” the lyrist responded.

They finished eating in companionable silence. When the waitress came around with the cheques, Vinyl grabbed both of them and handed the waitress her debit card.

“Hey, wait! You don’t have to pay for mine,” Lyra said.

Vinyl just waved the waitress on and said “I know. It’s just a small token of my appreciation for you being there for me and helping me vent.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Vinyl; you’re my best friend, and I love you. I’ll always be there for you,” the golden eyed woman said, with an affectionate smile. “I appreciate it though, thank you for lunch.”

“Don’t mention it,” Vinyl replied with a grin. The waitress came back with Vinyl’s card, she signed the slip, and the two women left the restaurant. Outside, Lyra hugged her friend.

“Let me know how things go tomorrow. I’ll call you after I get done with orchestra practice,” Lyra said.

“Alright, talk to you tomorrow then. Have a good night, and give Bonnie a kiss for me,” the DJ responded.

“Will do. Later, sexy!” the lyrist said, and walked off down the street. Vinyl got on her bike and headed home; there were dragons that needed slaying.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

The Mandarin Oriental, Monday, April 22nd, 9:55am

Octavia stepped out of the cab into the cool morning air and the cab driver handed her cello to her. She thanked the man and went into the building and up to the seventy fifth floor. She found the door marked 753, and knocked. After about half a minute, she heard noise on the other side of the door, and it opened.

“Hey!” the exuberant DJ said, with a smile. She was wearing her favourite purple sunglasses again, so Octavia couldn’t see her eyes. “Welcome to la maison de Pon3.” Vinyl dropped into an exaggerated bow and opened the door wide so the raven haired beauty could enter.

She really does wear those sunglasses all the time, doesn’t she? Octavia thought.

“Good morning, Vinyl,” the cellist replied, as she entered the flat. She looked around and said “It’s even bigger than it looks from the outside!”

“I guess it’s a decent sized flat,” Vinyl said, trying to be modest. “Let me give you a quick tour, and then we can get started.”

Vinyl walked out of the entryway, and gestured to her right. “This is the kitchen, and dining area. Over here”- she pointed to her left -”is the living room.” They continued on and walked down the hallway past the kitchen and living room. She motioned to a closed door to her left and said “This is the recording studio; you’ll get intimately acquainted with it in a bit. You can just leave the cello here for now. This”- she opened a door across from the studio while Octavia propped her cello up next to the studio door -”is the guest bathroom.”

They continued to the end of the hall, which ended with doors on the left, right, and center.

“That”- she motioned towards the door on the left -”is the guest bedroom. The center door is a closet and this”- she opened the door on the right -”is my bedroom. Now that you know where everything is, let’s head to the studio.”

Vinyl opened the door to the studio as Octavia picked up her cello case and they walked in. It was a large room, with pieces of foam padding on the walls and a soundproofed, windowed booth on the left side of the room. There were various microphones scattered around the room, including one that hung from the middle of the ceiling. Also scattered around the room were several instruments; a drum set in one corner, a keyboard sat off to one side, a violin hung on one wall, and an electric and bass guitar rested on a stand.

Octavia looked around the room, rather impressed. “Can you actually play all of these instruments?” She asked, as she leaned the cello case against a wall.

“Sure can,” the DJ said, as she walked over to the violin and took it and the bow off the wall. “and a few other things, to boot.”

“What else can you play?” the cellist asked, surprise evident on her face.

“The flute, the saxophone, bagpipes,” Vinyl replied, as she played a short tune on the violin, then hung it back on the wall. “I think that’s it.”

“That’s”- Octavia paused for a couple seconds -”impressive. I never thought to meet a DJ who was classically trained. Where do the bagpipes come in, though? That’s kind of an odd instrument given the rest of your repertoire.”

“I’ve just always been fond of the ‘pipes, so I learned how to play them,” the DJ said.

“As good a reason as any, I suppose,” Octavia responded.

“Well, let’s get you set up, shall we?” Vinyl asked, as she walked toward the center of the room where a stool sat underneath the microphone suspended from the ceiling.

Octavia removed her cello and bow from it’s case and walked to the stool in the middle of the room.

“OK,” Vinyl began, “this is what we’re going to do. I’m going to go into the recording booth, and I’ll have you play a few short pieces and a couple long pieces. I want to have both so I can make some tracks with looped samples, and some with completed pieces. Does that sound alright?”

As Vinyl talked about what she wanted from her, Octavia began to get a little nervous. What if I can’t do this? she thought. What about my block? Oh, why did I ever agree to this?! OK, calm down, just, don’t think about it. Maybe this will actually help.

“Yes,”- she hesitated -”that’s fine.”

“Awesome!” Vinyl said. “This is probably a dumb question, but do you know Bach’s Cello Suite Number Two in D minor?”

Octavia nodded quickly.

“Alright, let’s start with that,” the DJ said, as she turned and headed to the recording booth.

Octavia took a deep breath and sat down on the stool. She waited and watched as the DJ put on a pair of headphones and adjusted the mixer in front of her in the booth.

After about a minute, Vinyl looked up at Octavia through the booth’s window, flicked a switch on the machine in front of her, and said “Whenever you’re ready.”

Octavia nodded and readied her bow. She took another deep breath and drew it across the strings. She played the overture of the Suite without error; however, there was no emotion in her playing. It felt flat to Octavia, like it was being performed by a robot.

Vinyl noticed it too; when the cellist finished the overture the DJ took off her headphones and exited the booth.

“Well, you played that piece flawlessly,” Vinyl said. “But, and I mean no offense, everyone I’ve talked to that has seen you play has said you perform with intense passion and feeling, and that was rather lackluster. I didn’t feel what everyone else has said they felt when they saw you perform.”

Octavia’s mulberry eyes glistened with unshed tears of frustration, but she kept them at bay. Well, I suppose one more person knowing won’t matter much she thought.

The cellist sighed and averted her gaze to the floor. “This is an issue I’ve had for a little while now,” she said.

“It definitely seems like this isn’t normal for you,” the jockey responded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Octavia drew in a deep breath, looked back up at the tall DJ and nodded. “I suppose so.”

“OK, be right back,” Vinyl said, and turned to go back into the booth. She returned immediately with a rolling office chair, and sat in it, across from the cellist.

“Alright, talk to me,” the DJ said.

“Well, it all started with the debacle at the Grand Gala last month. If you’re unaware of what happened, this bubbly pink haired woman jumped onto the stage, said she was there to ‘liven things up,’ and requested that we play the ‘Hokey Pokey’. Why we ever agreed to the ridiculous request I’ll never be able to figure out,” Octavia said.

“Oooh, right, I heard about Pinkie Pie’s antics at the Gala,” Vinyl said.

“Wait, you know her?!” the cellist exclaimed.

“Yep, she’s friends with Rainbow, Twilight, and the rest of their group. Plus, I’ve spun at a few of her parties. She throws some of the craziest parties,” the DJ replied, reminiscing a bit.

Octavia dropped her head into her hand as she processed what she had just been told. “Oh, Celestia; I had no idea she was one of the Princess's best friends. No wonder no one said anything when she got up on stage with us, and started singing,” she lamented.

“Heh, yeah; she’s a crazy one,” Vinyl said. “Anyway, we got sidetracked; please, continue.”

“Well, a lot of the nobles and the Canterlot elite blamed us for agreeing to play that ridiculous song, and setting in motion the events that eventually ruined the Gala. I guess I can now see why we are being blamed instead of, Pinkie? Is that what you said her name was?”- after she received a nod from Vinyl, she continued -”Instead of Pinkie. As a close friend of Princess Twilight, no one would ever blame her for fear of offending the Princess.”

“Yeah, but from what I hear, it wasn’t THAT bad,” the blue haired woman said. “I mean, Celestia told Rainbow, and the other girls afterward that it was the most fun and exciting Gala in many years.”

“Well, that’s all well, and good for Princess Celestia, Princess Twilight, and her friends, but most of the wealthy and influential guests at the Gala still think it was a disaster. As a result, they blame us, and I’ve since been blacklisted, it would seem. I haven’t been asked to play at a private party, or function since, and I normally have four or five booked most months,” Octavia said.

“Leave it to the stiff-assed nobility to blacklist someone for something so silly,” Vinyl said, disdain heavy in her voice. “But, that doesn’t explain why it’s affecting your ability to perform.”

“Well, there has been some backlash from the media and the nobility, some of it pretty harsh. One critic was quoted as saying that a ‘child like her has no business being a First Chair, regardless of talent. She never should have been playing at such a prestigious event.’ My reputation has taken quite a hit, and if I’m honest, it has me quite depressed, and I can’t feel the emotion when I play, anymore.” the raven haired woman explained, with unshed tears in her eyes, and a look of despair that clouded her beautiful features.

“OK, I can understand that. But why do you care so much about what those pompous asses think about you?” the spinner asked.

“Because, Vinyl, those ‘pompous asses’ comprise the majority of the people who come to our concerts and listen to Classical music,” the cellist said, with some exasperation. “My music is my passion, and my career, and my success depends on them.”

“Yeah, but they’re fickle!” Vinyl exclaimed. “As soon as they see you perform again, feel the passion with which you play and the emotions that you rouse in them with your music, they will forget all about the Gala. They’ll go right back to being your biggest supporters.”

“Even if that’s true,” Octavia began, “I’m unable to play with my normal passion and feeling. I’m currently no better than someone who just learned to play on a whim. How can I bring them back into my corner if my performing is merely technically proficient?”

This gave Vinyl pause. That is a problem she thought. If she can’t break out of her slump and find her passion again, she won’t regain her former prestige and could possibly lose her position as First Chair. So how can I help her?

An idea came to her then, and a slow smile spread across her face until she was grinning.

“I’ve got an idea! Come on,” Vinyl said with enthusiasm, and headed toward the door of the large room.

“What should I do with my cello?” Octavia asked.

“Put it away, we won’t need it anymore today,” the jockey replied.

“But, what about recording for your set?” the amethyst eyed woman said.

“Don’t you worry about the set, it’ll be done when it’s done. I’m not worried about recording, right now I want to try to help you. Besides, what we recorded is usable; the samples don’t really need the emotion in order to be mixable,” the DJ said, with a genuine smile.

She wants to help me? Octavia thought. But we barely know each other.

“Help me?” she asked, skeptical. “Why? We barely know each other.”

“That matters why?” Vinyl asked. “Do we have to be friends for a certain amount of time before I can offer to help you or something?”

“Well”- she paused for a second -”no, it’s just I’ve never had anyone I didn’t know well offer to help me with anything. I mean, most people won’t offer to help someone they barely know,” Octavia said.

Vinyl shrugged and smiled. “I’m not most people,” she said. “I see someone I can help, I try to help them. That’s just the way I am. And I think I know something that might help you clear your head, get you heart back in the right place.”

Octavia thought about this. “Well, OK. I’m not sure what you can do to help me, but thank you,” she said.

As Octavia put away her cello, Vinyl went to the hall closet, grabbed her spare motorcycle helmet then went to the dining area of the flat where her helmet lay on the table. After a moment Octavia joined her in the dining area.

“Vinyl,” the cellist said, her voice wary, “what are those for?”

The DJ grinned at her and said “We’re going to go for a ride!”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Octavia said with hesitation. “I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before.”

“Don’t worry, I have lots of experience riding with passengers; I won’t let anything happen to you,” Vinyl said, with a disarming smile.

“Alright, just please, take it easy,” Octavia responded.

“I will.” Vinyl said and picked up the two helmets and started for the door. “Come on! This will be fun, I promise!”

The cellist followed Vinyl out of the flat and down to the parking garage. Vinyl handed Octavia the spare helmet and started up the bike while she put it on. The DJ straightened the bike, kicked up the stand and said “Alright, climb on back, get comfortable and put your arms around me. Let me know when you’re ready”

Octavia put a foot on the rear peg, a hand on the DJ’s shoulder to steady herself, and climbed onto the bike. Even though she felt a little awkward, she wrapped her arms around the spinners stomach, and held on tight. “Alright,” she said yelled over the purr of the Ducati, “I’m ready as I’ll ever be!”

“Alright, then hold on!” Vinyl said, as she put the bike in gear and headed for the exit of the garage. Once on the street, she headed toward the motorway that would take them out of the city.

It was a warm, sunny spring day, without a cloud in the sky; a perfect day for a ride out in the country. Vinyl had a destination in mind that she thought Octavia would appreciate, and she hoped that if she introduced the cellist to something fun outside of her comfort zone that it might help her get out of the rut she was in. She needed to get her mind off of what all the stuffy nobles thought about her.

True to her word, Vinyl took it nice and easy. Still, there was a fair amount of traffic on the road, and the new experience made Octavia very tense, as evidenced by her death hold on Vinyl’s midsection.

After about five minutes of riding, they came to a traffic light and the DJ asked “How are you doing back there?”

“I don’t know!” came the strained response. “Are we done yet?!”

Vinyl laughed. “Nope, sorry; we have a ways to go yet!” Vinyl thought for a second, and said “You’ve had your eyes closed the whole time, haven’t you?”

“Maybe…” Octavia replied in a sheepish voice.

“C’mon, Tav, you gotta loosen up a little! Enjoy this!” The light turned green and Vinyl started off again. The cellist didn’t even bother to respond to the nickname and instead replied by tightening her hold on the jockey. Vinyl gave a mischievous smile and thought Well, that’s alright, I kind of like having her arms wrapped around me anyway.

Once Vinyl got onto the motorway a few minutes later, and stopped weaving through traffic, she felt Octavia loosen her grip a little and remove her head from the middle of the DJ’s back, where it had been since they set off.

After a short while they were out of the city, riding north and east past green fields towards a forested part of the mountains around Canterlot. The DJ could feel Octavia moving around behind her, and she hoped that Octavia was taking in the scenery and beginning to enjoy herself.

As the sun warmed her skin and the wind made her long charcoal coloured hair stream out behind her, Octavia settled in and began to enjoy herself.

She became aware of her senses, and paid attention to them individually. She marveled at the beauty of the pristine countryside around them, the endless green fields of alfalfa yet to be cut. She took a deep breath through her nose, and noticed the clean air, with hints of wildflowers, and recent-cut grass, that was so much more fresh than in the city. She even enjoyed the novel feeling of the purr of the bike between her legs, and the comfortable warmth she felt from the woman in front of her.

This, is pretty amazing Octavia thought. Still kind of scary, but amazing too. You really get to experience a lot more of your surroundings, unlike in a car. The bike is so light and fast, too! I can understand why Vinyl likes it.

Soon the green fields gave way to forest and the straight road gave way to curves. After about ten minutes of riding further up into the mountain, and a total of forty five minutes since they left the flat, they pulled off into a parking lot on the side of the road. Vinyl pulled into a parking space, kicked down the stand and shut off the bike.

Octavia dismounted first and took off her helmet, while Vinyl did the same. “So, how was it?” the DJ asked with a smirk, after she had removed her helmet.

“Well, once we got out of the city and I got used to it, it was quite nice, really,” the cellist replied. “I never imagined it would feel so”- she paused as she searched for the right word -”liberating.”

The jockey gave the cellist a lopsided smile and said “That’s why I love it. Come on, our destination is just a little ways up this trail.” Vinyl started up the trail, Octavia close behind her.

They took their time as they made their way up the trail; neither of them felt any kind of urgency, and they both enjoyed the lush, green forest around them. After about ten minutes of walking, Octavia thought she could hear the sound of rushing water. The sound grew more intense and sure enough, after another few minutes, Octavia saw that the trail they were on ended at a bridge--a couple hundred meters in front of them.

Off to the right of where the bridge was, the forest gave way to nothingness; open air. To the left, they saw a giant split in the mountain and when they got closer, Octavia saw that the bridge crossed over a river that ended in a huge waterfall.

They walked halfway across the bridge, stopped, and looked through the clearing where the forest dropped away at one of the most stunning sights Octavia had ever seen. The waterfall fell down for what was at least a couple thousand feet into a river that flowed past Canterlot. Through the break in the forest, the two women could see for many miles, since it was such a clear day.

They leaned against the railing of the bridge and took in the vast expanse of scenery before them. To the south, they could see the town of Ponyville, where Vinyl had first met Rainbow Dash and her group of friends. To the south and east were the miles of fields and pastures that they had driven through earlier; an enormous carpet of vibrant green. Beyond that lay the whole of the capital city, with it’s skyscrapers and miles of cris-crossing roads. They could even make out the palace built into the side of the mountain that Canterlot lay at the foot of.

“Oh my, Celestia,” Octavia breathed. “This is”- she paused for a brief second -”breathtaking. It’s quite possible this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s somethin’, isn’t it?” Vinyl responded, in a wistful voice. “My parents first brought me up here when I was just a wee kid, and I fell in love with it. Now I come up here, sometimes, when I need to think, or be alone. For some reason there’s never anyone else up here, and that’s just fine with me.”

Octavia thought she noticed something in the spinners voice. What was that? Pain? Sorrow? Or did I just imagine it? Unsure if it was anything at all, she decided not to bring it up.

“It’s amazing. I can see why you would come up here to think,” the cellist responded. “Sometimes, I forget that music isn’t the only thing that’s beautiful in this world. Things like this are a pointed reminder.”

They stood there in comfortable silence for a while and just enjoyed it all; the cool mountain air, the spray that rose up from the waterfall, and the majestic view of the lush countryside and, beyond that, the city of Canterlot far below them.

After a while lost in their own thoughts, Octavia turned to Vinyl and gave her one of the most beautiful smiles the DJ had ever seen, one that made the corners of the cellist’s eyes crinkle up in an adorable way.

“Thank you, Vinyl, for bringing me here, for sharing someplace with me that it’s obvious is very special to you,” Octavia said in a meaningful voice. “Thank you also for introducing me to the thrill of motorcycle riding. While I’m not likely to get one myself, it’s exhilarating, and I did enjoy it.”

Vinyl flashed her most charming smile at the younger woman and said “You’re welcome, Tav. This place is special to me, but I’m happy to share it with you.”

Octavia chuckled and shook her head. “You not going to give up on the nickname, are you?” she asked.

“Hmm, nope!” the jockey said with a grin.

“Well, I guess I’ll allow you to have a nickname for me,” Octavia said, with a smile still on her face. “It does have a nice ring to it, I suppose.”

“I knew I’d get you to come around!” Vinyl exclaimed.

“Oh, you did, huh? Well, don’t fool yourself into thinking I’m that easy to sway on everything,” the cellist said as she gave the taller woman a playful glare.

“Oh, I’m smarter than that, your ladyship,” the DJ said with a mock bow.

Octavia scoffed and gave the woman’s shoulder a playful shove. She turned serious though as she noted the sun’s position in the sky.

“What time is it, Vinyl?” she asked.

“Umm, it’s”- Vinyl pulled out her phone and activated the screen to look at the time -”almost ten minutes before two. What time do you have practice?” Vinyl said.

“Three o’clock,” Octavia replied. “We need to go.”

“Have no fear,” the jockey said. “I’ll have you there before three.”

With that, they took one last look across the countryside toward the city and headed back down the trail. They moved much faster this time, and made it back to the bike in just over five minutes.

They put their helmets on, Vinyl fired up the bike, and off they went back to Canterlot. The traffic on the motorway was as sparse as it was on the way there, and Vinyl was a bit heavier on the throttle this time, so they made quick work of the return trip. They arrived back at Vinyl’s flat just after two thirty.

Octavia gathered her cello from the recording studio and met Vinyl back in the living room.

“Thank you, Vinyl, really,” she said. “I actually had a lot of fun today; a lot more than I expected to. I am sorry we didn’t get much recording done, though.”

“No worries,” the DJ responded. “Like I said, it’ll be done when it’s done. No hurry. Come on, I’ll drop you at the concert hall.”

“Wait, you can’t possibly mean to try to fit both of us and my cello on your bike!” Octavia said, incredulous.

“Oh, Luna, no!” Vinyl retorted. “You know that silver Land Rover we parked next to? That’s mine, too. Gotta have something to haul equipment with or for when the weather is too shitty to ride in!”

“Oh, good!” the raven haired woman said, relieved. “Alright then, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” the jockey said. “Let’s head down to the garage.”

They left Vinyl’s flat and went down to the garage. When they reached the SUV Vinyl turned to Octavia and said “Here, I’ll take the cello.”

The cellist handed over the case and Vinyl put it in the back of the SUV, while Octavia climbed into the passenger seat. Vinyl got in and they headed to the theater. They arrived ten minutes before three o’clock; Vinyl got out and retrieved the cello from the back of the car and handed it to Octavia.

“See you tomorrow?” Vinyl asked.

“Yes; ten in the morning again?” the cellist replied.

“Perfect,” the DJ replied.

“Thank you, again, Vinyl; I really had an amazing time,” Octavia said with a bright smile.

“It was my pleasure,” the blue haired woman responded and returned the smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tav.”

“Goodbye, Vinyl,” the cellist said, and walked into the concert hall.

The DJ got back in her SUV and headed to her flat. She walked in, and flopped down onto the large, brown microfiber couch in the living room. She laid there for a while and thought about the last few hours.

Well, that actually turned out better than I thought it would. Only got one sample recorded, but that’s not a big deal. Going on that ride, and getting Octavia out of her bubble was a lot of fun. I really hope I can help her get past her creative block, and get back to performing like her old self. Maybe, maybe if I can do that, maybe she’ll really come to like me, like Lyra thinks, and maybe she will be able to help me…

You keep telling yourself that, Scratch. I’ll be right there waiting when it all falls apart. Maybe it won’t! Maybe the sun will rise in the west tomorrow! When she figures out what a wreck you are and leaves, you’ll have me, and your alcohol, and your pills waiting, like usual. And then what? Maybe you’ll take a bath, break a liquor bottle and finish what you started a year ago?

Vinyl launched off of the couch and landed on her knees on the floor, grabbed the sides of her head and screamed “Nooooo!! Get out of my head!”

She stayed kneeling on the floor for a few moments, breathing heavy. She waited for the voice in the darkness of her mind to come back, but it didn’t. She calmed her breathing for another couple moments, then reached into the left back pocket of her jeans and pulled out her cellphone. She found the number she wanted and dialed it.

“Yo, V, what’s up?” a woman’s voice answered.

“Spit? You busy?” Vinyl asked.

“Nope. Why, what’s up?” the pilot responded.

“I’d like some company; want to mindlessly kill shit for a few hours?” the DJ asked.

“Sure, Dash is hanging out with Pinkie, so I have some time to blow. I’ll be over in a few,” Spitfire replied.

“Alright, see you soon,” Vinyl said, and hung up.

She fell back and leaned against the couch. She let her head fall back onto the cushion and took a few more deep breaths. This shit has to stop she thought. I don’t know how much longer I can deal with it…

(4) Behind the Sunglasses

Vinyl’s flat, Tuesday, April 23rd

Vinyl awoke on her couch to a slight pounding in her head. She groaned and rubbed her eyes, then flailed around without looking until she found her phone on the table. She activated the screen and looked at the time. 9:05am.

9:05… “Shit!” Octavia would be there in less than an hour and the place was a disaster.Shit shit shit. Alright, food, clean up, then shower. She jumped up from the couch, kicking aside a few empty beer bottles in the process, and went to the kitchen. She threw a couple pieces of bread into the toaster and poured a glass of orange juice.

She then headed to her bathroom and grabbed a couple aspirin, popped them into her mouth and chased them with the orange juice. Back in the kitchen, she leaned against the counter and tilted her head back to rest against a cupboard. Ugh, I shouldn’t have gotten sodrunk with Spitfire last night. She took a deep breath and tried to settle her slight hangover.

The toaster announced with a ‘ding’ that the toast was done. Vinyl pulled them out and dropped them onto a paper plate. She spread peanut butter on one piece, and put the other piece on top of it. Munching on her sandwich, she grabbed two garbage bags, went back to the living area with her breakfast and ate while she cleaned.

The DJ put the paper plates, napkins, and a pizza box into one bag, then opened the other garbage bag and threw the empty beer bottles in it. She ate the rest of her breakfast and put the paper plate in the bag with the rest of the rubbish. She gathered up the beer bottle bag and the garbage bag and set them both next to the bin in the kitchen.

With the living area picked up, Vinyl ran the vacuum, picking up the crumbs dropped the night before, and was done with the cleaning. She picked up her cellphone again and checked the time. She had about twenty five minutes before Octavia was due to arrive, just time enough for a quick shower. She went back to her room, stripped out of her clothes and tossed them into the hamper. She grabbed a pair of black boyshorts and matching bra from her dresser and headed to the bathroom.

Vinyl took a quick shower, toweled off and put on her bra and underwear. She put on deodorant and had just finished brushing her teeth when she heard a knock at the door. Oh bollocks, she’s early. Being the carefree type that she was, the DJ didn’t think much of her state of dress, or lack of, and went to answer the door.

“Hey, classy lady, you’re early!” Vinyl greeted the cellist with a grin and a cheerful tone. She realised then that she hadn’t put her sunglasses on, so she grabbed a pair that she kept on the table by the door and slipped them on.

“Good morning, Vin”- Octavia entered with her cello and started to say, but cut herself off, her mouth left hanging open a bit, when she really noticed the half naked DJ. She thought she saw a flash of red in the brief glimpse of Vinyl’s eyes that she caught, but she had never seen or heard of anyone with red eyes before, so she dismissed the thought.

However, she was prevented from thinking on it further as her attention was pulled to the alluring form of the alabaster skinned woman. Her eyes wandered up Vinyl’s round, well-proportioned ass, and to her toned, flat stomach. Her interested gaze continued to drink in Vinyl’s lithe body, her moderate sized but full breasts, and settled on the now-covered eyes of the DJ.

Her heartbeat quickened just a little as her eyes made their way up the DJ’s body. Oh my, Celestia, she’s beautiful the cellist thought. With that body and her confident smile she’s the very definition of sexy. Perfectly shaped bum, well portioned chest and… Octavia’s eyes widened, her face took on a deep blush and then she tore her eyes away when she realised she was ogling the taller woman. What am I doing, thinking of her like that?!

Vinyl took notice of the cellist’s discomfort. “Damn, I’m sorry, I’ll be right back!” The jockey hurried back to her room. Damnit, Vinyl, how could you be so dumb?! Answering the door damn-near in the nude and without sunglasses! She threw on a pair of khaki shorts and a blue t-shirt, then went back out to the front room.

While Vinyl was dressing, Octavia went to the living area and sat on the couch. She again berated herself for thinking about the DJ in such an inappropriate way. Why do I continue to think of her like that she wondered, not for the first time. Her thoughts turned to how quick the DJ had been to cover up her eyes and it all but confirmed for her that Vinyl was insecure about them for some reason. So she does have a kink or two in her armor. I’ll ask her about it again, later.

“Hey, I’m really sorry,” Vinyl said as she came back. “I’m running a bit late this morning and you caught me off guard; I didn’t even think about what little I was wearing when I answered the door.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry.” Octavia got up from the couch. “I shouldn’t have shown up quite so early.”

“Well, what’s done is done; I just hope I didn’t freak you out,” Vinyl responded.

“Oh, no, it’s fine; I mean, it’s not like I’ve never seen another woman in her underwear before,” the cellist said with a nervous chuckle. “But, why did you put your sunglasses on?”

Vinyl became a little self conscious with her eyes being focused on. Her face became impassive and she looked away from Octavia while she stuttered out an answer.“Oh, well, it’s”- she paused for a second -”something I don’t like to talk about.”

“Oh, OK; forgive me for asking,” Octavia replied.

Vinyl looked at the raven haired woman with an uncertain smile. “Don’t worry yourself about it. Well, I’m ready. Shall we get started?”

“Yes, I suppose we should.” Octavia retrieved her cello, which she had left next to the door of the flat, and went into the studio, Vinyl right behind her.

While Vinyl readied her recording equipment in the booth, Octavia removed her cello from it’s case. She sat down on the stool in the middle of the room to get set up, like she had the day prior.

The jockey came out of the booth. “Alright, you ready?”

“As ready as I’m going to be.”

“Alright, let’s give it a go and see what happens,” Vinyl said. “Let’s do the first movement of Elgar’s Concerto in E minor, that sound alright?”

“Oh, absolutely, that’s one of my favourites,” Octavia replied with a smile.

“Brilliant! Let’s get started then.” With that, she went back into the booth, put on her headphones, then said through the intercom “Alright, Tav, whenever you’re ready.”

Octavia nodded once, closed her violet eyes, and drew the bow across the strings of her cello. At first she wore a small smile on her face, optimistic that maybe she would be able to play with some emotion. But as she caressed the strings with her bow, pressing and wiggling them with her hand at the neck of the polished cello, she still felt nothing.

Nevertheless, she continued on with the piece. When she finished, she dropped her bow hand to her side and heaved a weary sigh. Vinyl took off her headphones and stepped out of the booth.

“Still having problems, huh?” Vinyl asked in a sympathetic tone.

Octavia just gave her a sad look and nodded.

The DJ nodded, grabbed a folding chair from the side of the room, unfolded it and sat down in front of the raven haired cellist.

For a moment she just sat there, stared off into space, and thought. Then, she came up with an idea.

The jockey looked at Octavia and asked “Do you remember your first solo concert?”

“Of course,” she replied. “Like it was yesterday.”

“Tell me about it.” Vinyl laid her chin in the palm of her right hand. “How old were you?”

“I was eleven, only just. It was just a few days after my birthday.” Octavia got up to place her cello in it’s case and sat back down.

“When was that?” Vinyl asked.

“A couple weeks before Hearths Warming.”

“So you’re a December kid.” The DJ was very interested now; she wanted to know everything she could about the beautiful cellist.

“I am, December 2nd. What about you?”

“I was born July 7th,” Vinyl said.

“Winter and Summer, polar opposites. How appropriate,” Octavia said with a small smile.

Vinyl gave her a smirk in reply. “So, your first solo concert; think about it. How did you feel?”

The raven haired woman crossed her legs, took a deep breath, and settled in to tell her tale. “Well, I remember being nervous, at first. I mean, I had been training to be a Classical cellist since I was a little girl, but I’d never played solo for a large group of people. I remember walking onto the stage and looking out over the sea of people; it made me want to run backstage! My parents are well known and respected among the Canterlot elite, and that brought many wealthy, influential people to my concert; they all wanted to see if I was as good as they had been told.”

“So, there was a lot of pressure to live up to those high expectations. I sat down in the lone chair in the middle of the stage. It was silent in the theater, so I just closed my eyes and pretended that I was in my room, practicing by myself, and started to play.”

“Did it work?” the blue haired woman asked.

“Yes. I forgot about the audience and lost myself in the music,” the cellist responded.

“OK, so the concert went well?”

“Yes, it was a complete success.” Octavia smiled, as she reveled in the memory.

“How did the audience react?” Vinyl prodded.

“Well, they were quite enthusiastic. I got many compliments and by all accounts everyone was quite impressed.”

“And how did you feel?”

“Well, I”- Octavia paused for a few seconds to remember just how she felt -”I remember feeling elated. I remember”- she paused again, for just a second -”feeling like I had finally accomplished something, that all of my hard work was finally paying off. I felt content.”

Vinyl got up and paced a bit. “OK, that’s great! Let’s try this, then; play the second movement, and while you’re playing, think about how you felt after your first solo concert.”

“OK, I will give it a try.” Octavia got up and retrieved her cello, then sat back on the stool.

“Excellent.” Vinyl walked back into the booth and put the headphones back on. “Ready when you are.”

Octavia took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to play. She thought about the elation she felt at the thunderous applause she had received. Her bow slid across the strings. She thought about the sense of accomplishment and contentment she felt at the rave reviews she received for the concert. She slid her fingers down the strings, then added some vibrato.

She tried to pour everything she was feeling into the music, but it just wouldn’t come through; the music still felt flat, lifeless. She began to get frustrated, and a memory slipped in unbidden - the looks of disapproval from the attendees at the Gala after it all went to chaos. Her breath came in quick, short gasps and the tempo increased; her movements became frantic. She clenched her eyes shut harder, a tear leaking out of each. The bow slipped, and the strings emitted a screeching noise.

She sat still and worked to control her breathing and stop her tears. After only a few seconds she felt soft hands on her shoulders.

“Hey, it’s OK,” Vinyl spoke in a soft voice. She took the bow and cello from Octavia and put them back in the case. She returned to the cellist and knelt down in front of her. She took both of Octavia’s hands in her own.

Octavia lifted her head and looked at the DJ with her brilliant amethyst eyes, now red from crying.

Vinyl gave her a sad smile, pulled a folded handkerchief from the back pocket of her shorts and handed it to the distraught woman. Octavia took the handkerchief in one hand and left her other in the comforting embrace of the jockey’s hand.

“I’m sorry, Vinyl.” The cellist sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks, defeat heavy in her voice.

“Hey, don’t be; I’m sorry it didn’t help. Come on, let’s take a break and get your mind off of this.” Vinyl stood up and pulled Octavia to her feet, then went into the living area, with the cellist in tow.

Vinyl turned on her large flat screen TV, stereo system, and XBox console, then picked up two miniature guitar-like controllers.

“What are those?” Octavia asked.

Vinyl slipped the strap of her controller over her head. “You know what an XBox is, right?”

The cellist did, in fact, know what it was, but had no experience at all with ‘video games’. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s a video game system.”

“You got it. Well, there is a game called Rock Band; it’s essentially a dumbed-down multi-instrument music simulator where you use these plastic guitar controllers, as well as drums and a microphone, to play along to popular songs. You can use any of the instruments by themselves, though, so we can just use the guitars.” Vinyl handed Octavia the other controller. “Have you ever played video games?” Vinyl suspected she knew the answer, but decided to ask anyway.

Octavia took the controller and shook her head. “Never.”

“That’s OK; something else I can introduce you too!” the DJ stated with a grin. “Alright, so just put the strap over your head like a normal guitar”- she paused while the cellist did as instructed -”yep, just like that. Have you played guitar?”

The cellist nodded. “I’ve dabbled with quite a few instruments from the time I started being trained in classical music, and the acoustic guitar was one of them. I wouldn’t say I’m particularly good, but I do know and understand how to play one.”

“Perfect,” Vinyl responded. “It’s not necessary, but it helps a little, since the controllers function much the same. On the screen, you will see a fretboard with strings on it and colored rectangles at the end of the strings, on the bottom of the screen. I’ll show you.”

Vinyl used her controller to navigate into the game and started a song. “OK, there’s the fretboard with strings and the colored rectangles at the bottom.” She paused the game.

“Mmhmm,” Octavia murmured and nodded.

“Those rectangles correspond to the buttons on the neck of the guitar.” The DJ indicated the colored buttons on the controller. “While the song is playing, more colored rectangles will scroll down the strings, and these represent the notes of the song. The idea is, once the notes reach the rectangle at the bottom, you want to hold the appropriate buttons on the neck of the controller and strum this little grey paddle.” She pointed to the strum bar. “Make sense?”

“I think so,” the cellist said, a little uncertain.

“OK, watch what I do.” The jockey unpaused the game and began to play as the notes scrolled down the screen.

Octavia watched the DJ’s hands and paid attention to how she pressed and strummed in sync with the notes as they scrolled down the screen. That doesn’t look too hard; I think I can do this.

When the song finished, Vinyl turned to her companion. “So, what do you think?”

“I think I understand how it works,” the raven haired woman replied.

“OK, let’s dive in then.” Vinyl helped her navigate the menus, set up the game on an easy difficulty, and they started looking through the songs.

Vinyl scrolled through the songs and tried to find something that the cellist might like.

“Oh! I like that one,” Octavia said, as Vinyl scrolled past a Weezer song.

“Island in the Sun?” she asked.

The cellist nodded, a smile on her face. “Yes, I like that song; it always makes me think about being on a warm beach, which always brightens my mood.”

“OK, we’ll play this one then.” Vinyl smiled at the shorter woman and selected the song.

The song began and the experienced Vinyl hit her notes perfectly. Octavia, on the other hand, had some trouble with coordinating the pressing of the fret buttons and flicking the strum bar. The song ended and she laughed a little.

“Alright, that’s a bit harder than it looks,” the cellist admitted.

“You’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try another song.” Vinyl navigated back to the song menu and started to scroll through it again. “Let’s try this one.” She said, and selected “Comedown” by Bush. “It’s not very fast paced and a bit long, so you can get used to the coordination and timing.”

“OK.” Octavia readjusted her grip on the guitar controller with a determined look on her face.

Once the second song began, it didn’t take the cellist too long to get the coordination between the fret buttons and the strum bar down. After that, however, she encountered another problem; timing. But by the end of the song, she had just about gotten the hang of it, too.

They played another song; by the end of it, Octavia had gotten the timing down, and was starting to quite enjoy herself. Maybe these video games aren’t so bad, after all.

“You’ve really gotten the hang of it,” Vinyl said with a grin.

“I guess I have, haven’t I?” the cellist replied with a smile that was only a little sheepish.

“Want to keep playing?”

Octavia nodded with enthusiasm and a bright smile. “Yes!”

Vinyl smiled back and selected another. They played through another four tracks, laughing together as they chose more difficult songs and Octavia continued to get better at the game.

“I think it’s time for a break.” Vinyl slipped the guitar back over her head and laid it against the coffee table; Octavia did the same a moment later.

The raven haired woman flopped onto the comfortable leather couch and let out a relaxing sigh, while the jockey went into the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?” she called to the cellist.

“Water would be great, thank you.” Octavia leaned back into the couch and let herself relax. Vinyl came back a few seconds later with two bottles of water and sat next to her on the couch.

“Did you have fun?” the DJ asked, taking a sip of her water.

“Actually, I did.” She took a drink from her water bottle. “Once I got the hang of it, it was quite enjoyable, really. I never thought video games could be that much fun.”

“You think that was fun? Just wait until I introduce you to Mario Kart!” Vinyl exclaimed with a grin.

“Mario Kart?” the cellist cocked her eyebrow.

“Mmhmm,” the DJ said. “I think it’ll have to wait for another time, though; it’s almost two thirty.”

“Oh, I hadn’t realised it was that late; I have orchestra practice soon!” Octavia moved to get up, but Vinyl placed a hand on her forearm and pulled her back down.

“Don’t worry, we have plenty of time,” the DJ said. “I’ll drop you off again.”

“That’s very kind of you, but not necessary,” the smaller woman replied.

“I know, but I appreciate you helping me with my set; it’s the least I can do.”

Octavia graced the blue haired woman with a warm smile. “Well, I won’t turn down the offer twice.”

“Good, ‘cause that’d just be mean,” the DJ said with a wink and a cockeyed grin.

The jockey downed the rest of water. “Alright, I’m going to put some shoes on, you”- she pat the cellist on the leg -”grab your cello, and we’ll get you to the concert hall.”

“OK,” the cellist said, still smiling. She got up, retrieved her cello, and met Vinyl by the door. They went down to Vinyl’s Range Rover and headed to the concert hall.

Vinyl pulled up and parked in front of the building like she had the day before. After they stopped, Octavia turned to the DJ and gave her a sad smile. “I’m sorry things didn’t go perfectly again today and that I kind of had a melt down.”

“Nonsense, Tav; I got two more good pieces of usable music. I’m sorry my idea didn’t help you with your block at all.”

Octavia’s smile brightened a bit. “Thank you, Vinyl, for trying to help me.”

Vinyl gave her a wry smile. “Thank me after we get you past your block.”

The cellist’s smile faltered a bit, as she wasn’t optimistic that she would get over her block anytime soon.

The DJ noticed this and grabbed her left hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Come on, I’ll grab your cello.” Vinyl got out, grabbed the instrument from the back and met Octavia on the sidewalk next to the SUV.

“Here you are, miss Melody,” the jockey said with a smile and an exaggerated bow. “See you same time tomorrow morning? I promise I’ll be dressed by the time you get there.” She gave the amethyst eyed woman a grin and a wink.

That’s too bad, I rather enjoyed it this morning. Her eyes widened in shock.Oh my, Celestia, I did! she realised. Octavia covered her shock at the sudden realisation with a smile and a laugh. “Yes, I look forward to it!”

“Tomorrow, then. Later, Tav!”

“Goodbye, Vinyl.” With that, they parted ways; Vinyl headed back to her flat and Octavia entered the concert hall.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Frederick Horseshoepin happened to walk through the lobby of the concert hall in time to catch a glimpse of Octavia walking away from a silver Range Rover.

He continued on into the hall and thought That’s odd, I’ve only ever seen Octavia arrive by cab. I wonder who that was that gave her a ride.

He decided he would ask her about it while she was setting up, but before she reached the stage he was engaged by Noteworthy.

“Frederick, might I have a word? I am thinking about making some changes to the piano section of the music for the Celebration and I would like your input,” the conductor said.

“Of course.” Frederick gestured for the man to lead the way.

“Excellent, let’s talk in my office.” He turned and led the man away.

Well, I’ll just have to catch her after practice or tomorrow.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Octavia’s flat, Wednesday, April 24th, 8:00am

Octavia woke up to the beep of her alarm at eight in the morning, like she did every day during the week. Unlike most other days she awoke to her alarm, though, this day she had a smile on her face. She couldn’t help but smile when she thought about spending part of her day again with her new friend.

She slipped out of bed with renewed vigor, grabbed a lacy black bra and matching panties, and went to her bathroom to have a shower. When she was done and had put on her underwear, she went back into her room. She put on a pair of form fitting khaki capris that accentuated her well turned calves and a grey short sleeve collared shirt.

Showered and dressed, Octavia went to the kitchen, toasted an asiago cheese bagel and brewed some chai tea for breakfast. She sat at the dining table to enjoy her breakfast and gather her thoughts for the day. Perhaps it was inevitable, but the cellist’s thoughts wandered to a certain wild, two-tone, blue haired DJ.

Why does she hide her eyes? Why is she so insecure about them? Maybe I can get her to take off the glasses for me. I hope. Hmm, I wonder what she has in store for today. The cellist smiled. She really was enjoying getting to know the eclectic woman.

She finished her breakfast and got up to put the dishes in the dishwasher. She went to her bedroom, picked up her cellphone and activated the screen to check the time. Almost 9:30, I better get going.

Octavia grabbed her cello from the corner of the living room, and her purse from the small table by the door to the flat, and went down to catch a cab to Vinyl’s flat.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Vinyl’s flat, 9:55am

Vinyl Scratch was prepping her sound equipment when she heard a knock at the door to the flat. She went out and opened the door to find, as expected, Octavia and her cello.

“Hey, Tav, come on in! I just got the sound equipment ready. You want something to drink before we get started?” She headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“Good morning, Vinyl!” She gave the DJ a wide smile, set her purse on the table by the door, and followed her into the flat. “Some water would be nice, thank you.”

“You got it.” Vinyl walked back into the living room with two bottles of water and handed one to the cellist. “Ready?”

Octavia took the offered water bottle. “Thank you. Yes, let’s get started.”

They went to the recording studio and set up like they did the two days prior, with one exception. Instead of staying in the booth like she had the previous couple days, Vinyl came back into the main room of the studio and took the violin and bow off of the wall.

“What are you doing?” Octavia asked, as she adjusted the strings on her cello.

The jockey gave Octavia a wide smile. “I’m going to play with you.”

“Really?!” This peaked the cellist’s interest, and she grinned at the DJ.

“Yeah!” Vinyl returned Octavia’s grin. “I figured we could play Vivaldi’s Trio Sonata in C minor. You know it?”

“Yes! I mean, um”- Octavia cleared her throat after the uncharacteristic outburst -”that sounds wonderful.”

“Awesome! Well, everything is set up and we can start anytime.” She stood next to the seated cellist, in front of the microphone suspended in the middle of the room. “Ready?”

Octavia nodded and placed her bow against the strings of her cello.

Vinyl placed the violin between her left shoulder and her chin, nodded once, and they began to play. Octavia countered the quick strokes of the jockey and her violin with slow, even strokes across the strings of the cello. The cellist closed her eyes and listened to the haunting tune of the violin as it mixed with that of her cello; she smiled at the beautiful melody the musicians created, together.

The music stirred something in her. She still couldn’t feel the emotion like she once had, but it didn’t feel empty, either. The music came easier, with less resistance. There was something there, she just didn’t know what it was. Octavia opened her eyes to look up at the DJ, who was swaying along with the rhythm of the piece, and the feeling intensified just enough to be noticed. She couldn’t be sure because of the ever-present sunglasses, but with the way Vinyl didn’t acknowledge her gaze, she thought the jockey must have been playing with her eyes closed as well.

The raven haired woman closed her eyes and continued to play. After a few minutes they finished that piece and moved on to Godard’s Aubade for Violin and Cello. After that, they played Joyce’s Songe d’Automne, and decided to take a break. They stowed their instruments and walked out of the studio.

“Do you want some tea? I picked up this coconut oolong from the Tea and Spice Exchange, it’s pretty good!” Vinyl headed toward the kitchen while Octavia made her way to the couch in the living room.

“That sounds fantastic!” Octavia replied with enthusiasm as she sat down and sank into the embrace of the plush couch.

Vinyl set the water boiling and went back into the living room.

Vinyl settled into the couch and got comfortable. “So, how did you feel, this time? It seemed like the music was coming to you with more ease.”

“It was, a little. It was better than it has been recently, but something is still missing. I did feel something, however, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

‘Well, that sounds like progress,” the DJ responded with a smile.

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Octavia smiled and looked thoughtful. “Vinyl,” she said in a thoughtful tone, “forgive me for bringing it up again but, why do you hide your eyes?”

The DJ stiffened and her smile faltered a bit. She looked away from the cellist. “It’s nothing, just something stupid from my past that I’d rather just forget about. Can we please talk about something else?” Vinyl pleaded.

Octavia curled her legs underneath her and turned toward Vinyl, giving her full attention to the blue haired woman. “If you really want, but it certainly doesn’t seem like ‘just something stupid’; it’s obvious something about your eyes really bothers you. Please, you’re helping me with my problem, let me help you, if I can.”

Vinyl continued to look away and drew in on herself; this wasn’t something she wanted to think about, not now. After a moment of silent thought, her shoulders slumped and she hung her head, and relented. “Alright,” she said in a quiet voice, “I’ll tell you.”

Octavia could tell this was difficult for the often stoic woman, so she said nothing and instead nodded her head in encouragement.

The DJ still didn’t look at Octavia as she began to speak. “My last girlfriend used to give me shit about my eyes, mostly near the end of our relationship. She would call me a freak and tell me my eyes made me look like a monster.”

Octavia’s eyes widened in surprise; she couldn’t fathom why Vinyl’s eyes would make her a freak or a monster. Maybe they’re black? Or white, like a blind person? But she’s obviously not blind, so what, then?

Vinyl continued. “Anyway, things ended very badly between us, and I sort of have a complex about my eyes, now.”

Octavia felt bad for her DJ friend; those were very hurtful things to say to someone, even more so to one’s significant other. She grasped Vinyl’s hand with hers. “That’s horrible, Vinyl; I’m very sorry you had to endure that.” Octavia was silent for a few seconds. “Will you take your glasses off, for me?”

Octavia felt the jockey tense up at the question and she squeezed the woman’s hand in support.

“I’m sorry, Tav, I’m just not ready,” the DJ replied in a soft, sad voice. “Maybe sometime, but not right now.”

Well, I was able to get her to open up a little, I’ll try again later. “OK, Vinyl, when you’re ready.” She squeezed the DJ’s hand again and gave her a small but reassuring smile. “If you ever need to talk, about anything, I’ll listen. You’re helping me, and it’s the least I can do.”

Now it was Vinyl’s turn to raise her head to look at the cellist and gave her a small, sad smile. “Thank you, Tav, I appreciate it.”

Octavia smiled and nodded. Just then, the kettle let out it’s shrill signal that the water was done boiling. Vinyl went to the kitchen and poured the water into two mugs, filled the metal infusers with the tea, and set them steeping. She walked to the living room with both mugs and handed one to the cellist. “Give it a few minutes before you drink it.”

“OK, thank you.” She took the mug and held it in her lap.

They made small talk for a while until their tea had steeped and cooled enough to drink.

Octavia took a sip of her tea. “Mmm, this tea is great! I happen to really like coconut.”

“Yeah, me too. I was just looking around the tea and spice shop and found this one. After I smelled it, I wanted to try it. I think it’s one of my new favourite teas.” The DJ took a drink from her own mug and gave a contented sigh.

They sat in silence for a few minutes and enjoyed their tea. When Vinyl was almost done with hers, she looked over at the wall clock in the dining room to see that it was close to two thirty. “It’s almost two thirty, we need to head out soon to get you to practice.”

They finished their tea and Vinyl took the mugs to the kitchen while Octavia gathered her cello. The dark haired woman grabbed her purse from the small table by the door, and they went down to Vinyl’s Range Rover. While they made their way to the concert hall, Octavia inquired about the difficulty and technical aspects of putting together a set. Twenty minutes later they pulled up in front of the theater and Vinyl got out to retrieve the cello for Octavia.

Octavia took the cello from the taller woman and gave her a warm smile. “Thank you for today, Vinyl; I feel like I made real progress.”

Vinyl returned the smile with a grin, the earlier lapse in her confident facade now gone. “Think nothing of it; I’m glad we’re actually starting to get somewhere.”

As the two women talked, a cab pulled up and Lyra got out, grabbed her lyre and walked toward the two musicians.

“Hello, ladies! How’s it going?”

“Hello, Lyra,” Octavia replied with a smile.

“Heartstring’s!” Vinyl smiled and hugged her best friend.

“Hey, V, haven’t seen you in a few days!” Lyra returned the hug.

“Yeah, been busy recording and cutting up samples; Octavia has been working with me for a few hours before practice, then I come back home and record other random instruments. What have you been up to?”

“Oh, same shit, different day; helped Bonnie with the shop in the morning and practice here in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re pretty busy, too.”

“I’m going to head inside; thank you again, Vinyl. See you tomorrow?” the cellist interrupted.

“Definitely! Have a good afternoon, Tav!”

“See you inside, Octavia,” Lyra replied with an intrigued smile.

As the smaller woman walked away, Lyra turned back to Vinyl and gave her a smirk. “So, Tav, huh? She let you give her a nickname already?!”

The DJ returned the smirk. “Yep! All it took was a ride on the crotch rocket up to the falls.” She leaned back against her SUV and crossed her arms.

“You took her up to the falls? On your bike?! But, that’s like your favourite place to go when you want to be alone. You must really like her!” Lyra leaned up against the car next to her friend.

Vinyl thought for a few seconds about the events of the last few days. “Well, it was mostly because I was trying to think of things to help her get past her creative block, but yeah, I guess I do really like her.”

“That’s great, Vinyl! She seems to enjoy the time you’re spending together.”

“Yeah, I think she is.”

“Keep it up and hopefully you’ll have a sweet cellist to cuddle with at night,” Lyra responded with a wink. The DJ blushed the tiniest bit at the thought of being in bed with the gorgeous cellist.

“I better head inside, but before I do, Bonnie, myself, Spit and Dash are going to go out for dinner tonight, if you care to join us.”

“Sure, where and when?”

“Seven thirty at Luigi’s.”

“I’ll be there. See ya later, Lyr.” Vinyl opened the driver side door to get in.

“See you tonight, Scratch.” Lyra went inside to get ready for practice as Vinyl drove off with a wave for her friend.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Frederick’s cab pulled up in front of the theater just as the same silver Range Rover he had seen drop Octavia off the day before drove away. He could only assume that whoever owned that SUV had dropped Octavia off for the second day in a row.

Is she seeing someone? he wondered. Well, whatever the case, it’s time to find out. He got out of the cab, paid the driver and went into the theater. As he expected, he found the cellist sitting in the chair at the head of her section, tuning her instrument.

“Good afternoon, Octavia,” he greeted as he walked up to her. “How are you doing on this beautiful day?”

“Hello, Frederick, I’m doing very well, thank you. And how are you?”

“I don’t have any complaints.” His hands began to fidget a bit, as he became just a little nervous about the answers he was going to get from his next questions.

“That’s good.” Octavia gave the pianist a polite smile.

“Indeed.” He returned the smile. “I couldn’t help but notice that the last couple days you’ve been dropped off by someone in a silver SUV and I’m just curious as to who it is, since you usually come by cab.”

“Oh, that’s my friend Vinyl.”

“Vinyl? As in, Vinyl Scratch? The DJ?” He became very interested at hearing that.

“Yes, you know her?”

“I’ve never met her, but I certainly know of her. She’s very famous in the electronic music industry and club scene; I’ve even seen her play a couple times. While it’s not exactly my kind of music, she is a very talented DJ.” She’s also a lesbian. What in the world could Octavia be doing hanging around someone like her? I know Techno isn’t her type of music; in fact, I’m not sure she’s into anything other than classical.

“Yes, she is. She's also very talented in many other ways.” Octavia gave him an innocent smile.

Wait, what? Did she mean? Could she be…? No, no, that’s preposterous. “How did you meet Vinyl?”

“I met her at the Prancing Pony last Saturday; Lyra invited me to go out with her and some of her friends. Vinyl is Lyra’s best friend and she was playing there that night. She joined us after she finished her set and after we talked for a while she asked me if I would help her with her next set and I agreed. So, I’ve been going to her flat before practice and she’s been taking samples of me playing the cello.”

“I see, so she’s working on a Classical-themed set, then?”

“Yes, I think she is going to play it next Saturday, which is why we’ve been working on it every day.”

“Well, that should be an interesting set. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a Techno-Classical mix, before.” Well, at least she isn’t dating her. I should ask her to dinner, again.

“I haven’t, either. I’m looking forward to hearing it once it’s finished. Hopefully it will sound better after adding in some Classical music.”

At that time Noteworthy walked onto the stage.

“Good afternoon! It’s that time again; places, everyone!”

“It was nice talking to you, Octavia.”

“You too, Frederick.” She readied herself as the man walked to his piano on the other side of the stage.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Vinyl’s flat, 10:05pm

Vinyl arrived back at her flat after having dinner with her friends. She walked in, dropped her keys and her sunglasses on the table by the door, and headed for her bedroom. It had been a long day and the DJ was ready for some much needed sleep.

She kicked off her shoes, stripped out of her jeans and shirt, and slipped into bed. Even though she was asleep within minutes, she still couldn’t escape the painful memories that had been dredged up that day…

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Drop. Drop.

Vinyl felt something hit her face, something soft and wet. She noticed a thick, somewhat cloying smell in the air; it invaded her lungs, choked her. It was an all too familiar scent; jet engine exhaust.

Drop. Drop.

More gentle splashes. She opened her ruby eyes and took in her surroundings. It was a beautiful day. Blue sky, white, fluffy clouds, and bright sun. The warm rays felt like a caress from Celestia herself. She was standing on grooved, black asphalt. There was a broken white line dividing it down the middle, and flashing guide lights ran down both sides. It seemed to be endless, stretching out to the horizon in both directions. It was an all too familiar scene; an airport runway.

Drop. Drop.

Runways ran adjacent to the one Vinyl stood on, with large, grey fighter jets parked diagonally down them. Their tails were painted with a very familiar symbol: a gold lightning bolt with white, feathered wings. She began walking down the runway, no particular destination in mind. She didn’t know why, but it just felt like what she was supposed to do.

Drop. Drop.

She felt water drop onto her head, again. She looked up at the sky, it was clear and yet she still felt water dripping onto her from somewhere. She lost herself in the deep azure of the sky. It felt surreal to her. The sun was never that bright, the sky that brilliant. The clouds floated by in the sky, most indistinguishable, but some had recognisable shape. One looked like a bird, another a Super Mario Brothers mushroom. Vinyl felt so small staring up at the sky, so insignificant.

Drop. Drop.

Water splashed onto the the lenses of her trademark purple shades. She took them off to wipe the water away from the lenses. She looked back up to the horizon, and fell back onto her haunches, shocked.

Drop. Drop.

The once peaceful blue sky had become a roiling black tempest, and seemed to be moving towards her. The tarmac became cracked and pitted, showing signs of aging. The grass that separated the runways turned brown and muddy.

Drop. Drop. Drop.

The rain began to fall a bit harder. Vinyl felt herself starting to become soaked. That’s when she heard it. A voice, once comforting and caring. The type of voice that made you want to trust its owner in full. But Vinyl knew that wasn’t the case. She knew the owner of that voice was cold, unforgiving, cruel. “Put your glasses back on, Vinyl.”

Drop. Drop. Drop.

Vinyl saw a form walking towards her from far down the runway, the storm followed it. She wanted to speak, to yell at the silhouette of the woman that was coming nearer, but she couldn’t find her voice. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get any words past her lips.

“What is it, Vinyl, cat got your tongue? Pathetic. You’ve always been weak. Look at yourself. You’re an alcoholic and a drug addict that’s obsessed with a girl you will NEVER be good enough for.”

Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop.

The storm drew closer; the rain fell in torrents, mixing with the tears that had begun streaming down her face. As much as she hated Lightning Dust, Vinyl knew she was right. All Vinyl could do was cover her eyes with her hands and wish that her ex-girlfriend would leave. After a moment of silence Lightning Dust spoke up again.

“What is it, Vinyl?” Still having daddy issues? Why don’t you go run to mommy? Oh, that’s right.” The two-tone orange haired woman paused for a moment. “You will never be happy, Vinyl. That chance left when I did. This ‘persona’ you’ve created, this false Vinyl Scratch you attempt to portray, you’re failing. You’re miserable, unstable, worthless. You are a freak and a loser, Vinyl.”

Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop.

The words seemed to echo around her. Vinyl’s eyes burned. There was so much she needed to say. She wanted to tell Lightning that she was wrong, wanted to tell her that she was fine. But Vinyl knew it would be a lie. She could only get one word out. “Why?”

“Because it’s what you deserve.”

The tempest reached Vinyl then; the blackness closed in and consumed her, and she knew no more.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Vinyl startled awake, tears streaming down her face, her pillow almost soaked with them. She was sweating, and her heart ached with the despair and loneliness she had felt. The room seemed to close in on her; her breaths came rapid and shallow, and she had to fight to regain control of her breathing. She got up and grabbed the bottle of Vicodin from her nightstand, then rushed to the dining room.

She reached into her liquor cabinet and grabbed the first bottle she could get her hands on, which happened to be whiskey. She popped the top off of the bottle of pills, took two, and chased them with the whiskey. Vinyl slid down the wall next to the cabinet and stared off into space while she took pulls from the bottle of whiskey.

She had no idea how long she sat there, but it felt like hours. Finally, after she felt good and buzzed, she fumbled her way upright. As soon as she stood up, she felt the familiar lightness and euphoria that results from taking Vicodin with alcohol. She recapped the bottle of whiskey and put it back in the liquor cabinet. She picked up the bottle of pills, stumbled back to her room and put them back in the night stand.

She made her way into the bathroom, flipped on the light and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess; not the spiky, organised chaos that it normally was, but truly a mess. She stared deep into her ruby eyes.

Despite her drunken high, a dark memory still slipped through. “Honestly, Vinyl, who else has red eyes like yours? They practically glow. You’re a freak; demonspawn or something.”

Vinyl growled out a loud “Nooo!” and punched the mirrored image of her face, shattering the mirror and cutting her knuckles in several places. She looked at the ruined mirror, the image of her face distorted by the many cracks. There was blood streaking down the mirror where she hit it, just about eye level, that made it look like she was crying blood.

The DJ wrapped her bloody hand in a hand towel, turned off the light and stumbled out of the bathroom. She fell half on, half off the end of the bed, and slid onto the floor, where she curled up into a ball and cried. Her vision began to darken; everything was silent except for the sound of her sobs echoing through the empty room. She continued to cry until the darkness consumed her.

(5) What Red Eyes Reveal

The Mandarin Oriental, Thursday, April 25th, 9:50am

Octavia rode the lift up to Vinyl’s 75th floor flat, excited to spend another morning with her new friend. The lift stopped and the cellist walked the now familiar route to Vinyl’s door. She knocked and waited for the exuberant DJ to answer, like usual. When the door didn’t open after half a minute, she knocked again. Octavia waited a full minute and when the door still didn’t open, she decided to try the knob.

The door was unlocked, so she went inside and looked around.

“Vinyl?” she called, to no reply, so she went into the recording studio, thinking that she was probably still getting set up. She set her cello case against the wall and opened the door to the recording booth, but the DJ wasn’t there either. Perplexed, she went back into the hall where she heard a faint sound, sort of like a sniffle. She slowly walked towards the source of the noise, which appeared to be the jockey’s bedroom.

The cellist crept through the half-open door and, as she expected, found her quarry. What Octavia didn’t expect, however, was the state she found her friend in. Vinyl was sitting on her bedroom floor, against a wall, clad only in a grey sports bra and running shorts. Her hair was a disaster, not the deliberate chaos that only she could pull off, but a limp and matted mess. She was crying, and held her face in her hands as she made light sobbing noises. Octavia noticed that the DJ’s right hand was wrapped in a blood stained, white hand towel.

“My goodness, Vinyl, what’s wrong?!” The cellist rushed over and knelt beside the distraught woman. Vinyl sniffled and raised her head to look at the raven haired woman. Octavia was struck speechless at the sight of the DJ’s eyes; not by their bright ruby colour, though she didn’t fail to notice that, but by the pain she saw in those eyes. “Vinyl, what happened?”

“I’m sorry, Tav,” Vinyl croaked. She closed her eyes and a tear leaked out of each of them to fall onto her chest.

“What? What are you sorry for?” Octavia took Vinyl’s unwrapped hand in her own.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” the DJ said in a quiet voice. “For being such a mess.”

The cellist felt a pang of sorrow stab through her heart at the despair of her friend and adopted a look of compassion on her face. “Oh, Vinyl, you have nothing to be sorry about.” She gave the woman’s hand a squeeze. “Please, let me help; tell me what’s wrong.”

The jockey was silent for a moment, tears still streaming from her eyes. “I had a rough night. I couldn’t stop thinking about some bad memories. I even had a pretty terrible nightmare.”

“I’m sorry, Vinyl. Do you want to talk about it?”

The DJ closed her eyes and wiped away her tears with her wrapped hand. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t.”

“Okay, that’s alright. I’m here if you decide you want to talk about it, though.”

Vinyl looked at the cellist, gratitude evident on her face. “Thank you, Tavi.”

Octavia smiled, having grown a bit fond of the DJ’s nicknames for her, since she was the only one who had ever cared enough to even try giving the cellist a nickname.

“Tav?” the jockey asked in a quiet voice, her head down.

“Yes, Vinyl?”

“Do you think I’m a freak?”

“What? No; why would I think you’re a freak? I mean, you’re eccentric, maybe a little weird, and crazy in a fun way, but not a freak!”

The DJ continued to stare at the floor dejectedly. “I’m an albino. That’s why my eyes are red.”

She’s an albino?! I just thought she was really pale skinned. Well, I guess that explains her eyes, though she must be unique even among albinos; I didn’t think anyone had true red eyes. They really are something. “No, Vinyl. It just makes you special; you’re the only person I’ve ever seen with true red eyes, but they are just another part of you that makes you one of a kind. Honestly, you’re probably the most unique person I’ve ever met, and that’s a good thing. Sure, you’re pale skinned and your eyes are different, but they’re striking and vibrant, just like you. They combine to help make you the beautiful woman you are.”

Vinyl looked up at the cellist, the pain that was in her eyes replaced with surprise and a hint of happiness. “Thanks, Tav,” she responded, the ghost of a smile on her face.

“You don’t need to thank me for that, it’s what anyone who cares about you would tell you.” She gave the jockey a warm smile, then looked down at her wrapped hand. “Now, what’s the deal with this?” With gentle motions Octavia grabbed and unwrapped the DJ’s other hand. She gasped when she saw the lacerations on her knuckles, a couple of them pretty deep. She looked at her, concerned. “Vinyl, what happened?!”

“Oh, uh… it was an accident; I… slipped coming out of the shower and put my hand into the mirror.”

“I see.” She’s lying to me… Who slips and catches themselves on their closed fist?“Well, let’s get that cleaned up and a proper bandage on it.”

Octavia helped the jockey up and followed her out of the bedroom to the guest bathroom, where Vinyl kept most of the first aid supplies. The DJ retrieved the rubbing alcohol, cotton pads, and adhesive wrap. The cellist did a closer inspection on Vinyl’s hand to see just how bad the cuts were. Despite how careful she was in removing the towel some of the cuts had reopened and started bleeding again.

“Well, it doesn’t look like any of them require stitches, but a couple of them are pretty bad.” Octavia grabbed a cotton pad and poured rubbing alcohol on it. “I’m sorry, Vinyl, but this is going to hurt. Please hold as still as possible.”

“Don’t worry, Tav; I’ll be fine. Just do what you gotta do.”

The cellist held the smaller woman’s hand in a gentle grip and with slow, tender movements began to run the alcohol soaked pad over the first cut. Vinyl grimaced and flinched a little, feeling the burn as the alcohol did it’s work.

Octavia winced in sympathy for the woman. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, keep going.”

Octavia continued to clean each cut, making sure she got all of them. When she had finished, she wiped the cuts with a dry pad and wrapped Vinyl’s knuckles with the adhesive wrap. She ran her thumbs over the DJ’s knuckles, smoothing out the wrap with a gentle touch. “There, all done.”

Vinyl gave Octavia her first genuine smile of the day, full of gratitude and affection. “Thanks, Tav.” The cellist just returned the smile and nodded.

The DJ turned off the light in the bathroom and led the way to the living area, both women taking a seat on Vinyl’s big, comfortable couch. “Not how you expected to start off the morning, huh?”

Octavia was caught a little off guard by the question. “Well, no; I suppose not.”

Vinyl’s face fell into a mask of despair at the admission, and she hung her head. “I’m sorry, Octavia. I doubt this is how you wanted to spend your morning, either.”

The cellist gave her a look of admonishment. “Really, Vinyl, it doesn’t bother me; I’m happy to help a friend in need.” She chased away the disapproving look with a warm smile. “Keep that in mind, if you need anything in the future.”

Vinyl brought her gaze up to focus on the cellist, and nodded with a grateful smile. “Okay; I will. Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, both women just enjoying the peacefulness.

“Well, I guess we should get started?” the DJ asked.

The dark haired woman thought for a moment. “Actually, unless we have to record, what do you say we skip it today?”

Vinyl shrugged. “We can. Did you have something else in mind, or do you just want to head home or something?” Vinyl felt a little ball of worry form in her stomach. Oh, no, I hope haven’t scared her off.

“I thought maybe we could go have lunch or something.”

Vinyl perked up a bit. Oh, thank Luna, she isn’t abandoning me. Yet. “That sounds great, actually. I haven’t eaten yet today and I could really go for one of the ‘special’ milkshakes at Jamie’s Diner.”

“‘Special’ milkshakes?”

“Yeah! You gotta try one, they’re amazing.” Vinyl got up, went back to her room and put on a pair of blue jeans and a white tshirt. Meanwhile, Octavia went to the recording studio to retrieve her cello and went back to the living room to wait for the DJ.

Vinyl went into the living room, grabbed her wallet, keys, and put on her jacket and sunglasses. She grinned at the cellist. “Ready?”

Octavia hefted her cello case. “Yep!”

They made their way down to the garage, piled into the Range Rover and headed to Vinyl’s favourite diner. The car ride was short, the diner being situated only a couple miles from the DJ’s flat. They drove with the windows down, enjoying the feeling of the cool spring air, and basked in a silence that was neither awkward nor unwelcome.

They parked the SUV in the lot, entered the restaurant and were seated in a corner booth.

“I hope you like burgers, ‘cause this place has the best in Canterlot!”

Octavia picked up a menu from the stack that sat off to the side of the table and began looking at it. “I don’t eat them often, but occasionally I do like a good hamburger, especially with bacon.”

“Ooh, Tavi, now you’re speaking my language!” Vinyl grinned at the younger woman.

At that moment Jamie walked up to their table. “Vinyl, dear, nice to see you again. Who’s your lovely friend?”

“Jamie, this is my friend Octavia Melody, First Chair cellist for the Royal Canterlot Orchestra.” Vinyl smiled and winked at the cellist who had just the faintest blush at being put under the spotlight. “Octavia, this is Jamie, the owner of this fair establishment.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma’am.” Octavia extended her hand in greeting.

“Please, call me Jamie, and the pleasure’s mine.” She shook the offered hand, then pulled out her servers pad and a pen. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have the usual with a Ruby milkshake.”

Jamie nodded, jotted the order down in her pad, and looked over at the raven haired woman. “What about you, deary?”

She looked at Vinyl. “What’s ‘the usual’?”

“A bacon and blue cheese burger well done, no tomato, with a side of fries,” the DJ replied.

“That sounds delicious; I’ll have that as well.”

Jamie scribbled some more. “Okay, and what would you like to drink?”

“Um”- Octavia started to speak, but Vinyl cut her off.

“You gotta try one of the ‘special’ shakes! Chocolate or Raspberry?”

“Can I have half and half?”

“Of course you can, dear.” The restaurateur wrote it down in her book.

“Ooh, a Rubinator milkshake; I like it!”

“Alright, I’ll get these orders in and be back with your milkshakes in just a few.” With that she headed for the kitchen and left the two women alone, again.

“So, I probably should have asked before we ordered, but what’s ‘special’ about these milkshakes?”

“Well, the raspberry one is made with their Ruby raspberry ale, and the chocolate one is made with the Terminator chocolate stout.”

Octavia grimaced, her face full of disgust. “I really wish you would have mentioned that; I don’t particularly like beer.”

Vinyl put her hands up to placate the cellist. “They don’t taste like beer; I promise, it will taste good.”

Octavia gave the DJ a challenging smile. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it. But if I don’t like it, you’re drinking it!”

“Deal! Though, you may have to drive.” Vinyl winked at the raven haired woman.

They sat for a moment in companionable silence, then Octavia spoke up.

“Vinyl, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, but I’m afraid it might not be appropriate of me.”

“Ask me whatever you like, Tav; what’s on your mind?” You can ask me pretty much anything and I’d tell you-

“I know you’re a very successful DJ, but how could you afford a flat in the Mandarin?! That flat must have been several million bits.”

-except that. Fuck; I’m not ready to go there. Alright, Vinyl, got to tell her something believable and at least half true…

She put on a sheepish smile. “Oh, well, between the club and a record deal I have more money than I know what to do with, heh heh,” she responded in an embarrassed tone while rubbing the back of her neck. No need to tell her I own the club I play at and the record company I have a deal with…

“Oh, wow; I didn’t know you had published records. How many have you released?”

“Three, so far. Though, at some point in the not too distant future, I’d actually like to talk to you about using what we’re recording for a possible fourth album. We can get into that some other time, though.”

“Sure, that sounds fine.”

At that point Jamie came back with their milkshakes. “Here you are, ladies; enjoy! I’ll be back soon with your food.”

Vinyl took her shake and prepared to devour it. “Thanks, Jamie!”

The cellist gave her shake a dubious look before taking the straw and giving the thick drink a taste.

Vinyl looked up to see a look of surprised delight make its way onto her friends face. “What do you think?”

“Oh, my, Celestia; it’s delicious! Are you positive this is made with beer?!”

“It sure is. I told you they are amazing!”

Octavia took another pull from the straw. “Well, I just might have to listen to you more often.”

Vinyl gave her a wink in response as they both settled in to enjoy their shakes.

After drinking half of her shake, Vinyl sat back with a contented smile on her face. “So, Tav, what were your days at the Academy like? I know you said you didn’t have a social life, but surely you must have been exaggerating, at least a little?”

Octavia finished a sip of her shake. “I wasn’t exaggerating at all, actually. I rarely left my dorm, other than to go to class, the library, or to get food.”

The DJ still wasn’t entirely convinced. “You must have had friends within your program, though; didn’t you hang out with them?”

“Well, yes; I had friends within my program. We practiced together outside of class and would go out for food together, but aside from that I was always too busy to do anything else.”

Vinyl took another sip of her shake. “Well, that’s a shame! I’ll just have to fix that.”

The cellist gave her a sly smile, deciding to be playful about it. “Oh, you will, huh? We’ll see. So, what did you do when you weren’t in class if you weren’t studying or working on classwork?”

“Shoot, what didn’t I do? I played rec sports like ultimate frisbee and football with my friends, went to concerts, went to the arcade and played video games with my friends, partied a bit. I tried to experience as much as I could.”

“Sounds like you were quite the socialite.”

Vinyl finished off her shake as she thought about it. “I suppose I was. I just wanted to enjoy my time at University, before I had to grow up.”

Octavia gave the spinner a knowing smirk. “But you still kind of live that life, being a DJ and all, with the late nights and the partying.” Her smirk fell into a frown, only for a second, as she realised the possible implications of her statement, but it was not lost on Vinyl.

Uh-oh, that bothers her… “A little bit; the late nights, yes. But, I don’t party near as much as you think; I left the heavy partying behind at Uni. You’re not a fan of the nightclub culture, are you?”

Octavia was silent for a brief moment before replying. “Not really, no. I know the reputation; the heavy drinking, drug use, and promiscuity. It’s never appealed to me. Do you engage in that part of the culture?”

Vinyl frowned; now it was her turn to be silent and introspective. Will this be where I scare her off? “I won’t lie to you, I’ve done some experimenting; but, no, I don’t take part in that part of the scene and haven’t in more than a couple years. I do still like to drink, but I’m beyond getting drunk or high. Now I just indulge in a couple pints of good beer or a glass of good wine; I like to enjoy what I drink.”

Octavia gave the DJ a small smile. “That makes me feel a bit better. I do my best to avoid people who party heavily or use drugs. Drugs especially bother me; I don’t like how they alter one’s perception, makes them do things they otherwise wouldn’t. I’ve seen how they can ruin someone’s life, too. The past doesn’t concern me, though, only the present and future; if you say your ‘experimenting’ days are behind you, I’m good with that.”

Vinyl smiled, relieved. “Thanks for not judging me on my past.”

The cellist nodded. “We all make mistakes and bad choices, especially early on in life; the measure of a person is whether we learn and grow from those mistakes and experiences.”

“That’s a great attitude, Tav. While we’re on the subject, what are some of your dislikes?”

“Well, aside from drugs and excessive alcohol use, people who are generally disrespectful, public display of affection, and by that I mean more than hand holding or light kissing, and smoking; cigarettes are disgusting!”

“I’m with you on the cigarettes; can’t stand them!”

“That’s good. So, I take it you’re not a secret smoker, then?” Octavia gave the DJ a playful smirk.

“Oh, Luna, no!”

“Didn’t think so. What are your pet peeves?”

“Hmm, well you already know about cigarettes. I may look wild and uneducated, but it actually really bothers me when people don’t use proper grammar or spelling. I see it a lot on social networking sites and it really bothers me. I hate it when people use shorthand abbreviations like ‘lol’ in speech, too. Also, people who take advantage of or mistreat their friends and family, people they supposedly care about.”

When Vinyl said the last bit, a flash of pain crossed her eyes and was gone just as quickly as it had come, but not before Octavia noticed. What was that about? Has she been mistreated in the past? Is that what was bothering her earlier? Well, whatever it is, if shewants to talk about it, she will. “Oh, yes, it is SO annoying when people use abbreviations like ‘lol’ and ‘omg’ verbally!”

Vinyl laughed. “It’s so bad!”

Just then, Jamie came back with their food and placed the dishes in front of the women. “Let me know if you need anything el- my goodness, Vinyl; you already finished your shake! Did you even take the time to taste it?”

The DJ shrugged. “What can I say? I really love your special shakes!”

“I guess so! Well, I’ll be back to check on you again in a bit.”

“Thanks, Jamie!” the musicians said in unison.

As the restaurateur walked away, the musicians started in on their food.

“Damn, I didn’t realise how hungry I am,” Vinyl said, as she got halfway through her burger in two bites.

After a few more bites, the DJ had finished her burger and began picking at her fries. “Oh, I just remembered something else that really grinds my gears: people not using their turn signals while driving!”

Octavia swallowed the last bit of her burger before replying. “Yeah, that one bothers me, too; so inconsiderate.”

After a couple moments passed, during which they both picked at their fries and the cellist polished off her shake, Jamie came back by their table. “You girls doing alright?”

Vinyl flashed the older woman a smile.“I’d like a water, actually, please.”

The cellist raised her hand a bit. “Oh, me, too, please!”

Jamie nodded. “Sure thing, girls!”

“Thanks, Jamie!” Vinyl called after her, and turned her attention back to Octavia with a smile.

The cellist returned the smile with a mischievous one of her own.“So, miss Pon3, do you have any quirks?”

Vinyl tilted her head a bit, confused. “Quirks? What, you mean like habits or something?”

“Sure, or just odd things that you do that no one else you know of does.”

Vinyl looked out of the window next to their table and thought for a moment. “Well, I’m a very sensory person.” Octavia gave her a confused look, prompting her to elaborate. “Let me explain: I’m a naturally inquisitive person, and I will look closely at things because I want to know how they work, or how they were made, or whatever. I also have a tendency to touch things, like as I pass I will reach out to feel the texture of a wall or run my hand along a handrail; I will do it with all sorts of things. Last, I will smell things, mostly like candles and stuff like that, because they usually smell nice, but sometimes other random things, too. It’s weird, I know.” She looked at the cellist, waiting for her reaction, and hoping it at the least wouldn’t be negative.

Octavia imagined the jockey randomly picking things up to smell them and tried to refrain from laughing, but couldn’t quite do it. She smiled at the embarrassed DJ after she had composed herself. “Well, that’s certainly a unique quirk, but not a bad one.”

Vinyl gave a relieved sigh and smiled. “Well, I’m glad you don’t think I’m too much of a freak!”

“Not at all, Vinyl. Do you have any other quirks?”

“Ummm”- Vinyl paused to think -”actually, yes; I have a few OCD tendencies, too. I can’t stand open cupboards or drawers, and if I notice them, I have to close them. Also, I organise my wardrobe by colour, from lightest to darkest, and also by type.”

The cellist giggled again. “I can relate to that, actually; I’m a neat freak and while I don’t feel the need to close cupboards and organise my wardrobe by type and colour, I do like the organisation.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one, even if it’s not something that bothers you if not done. Alright, miss priss, your turn; what quirks do you have?”

Octavia blushed a little and turned away. “You’re probably going to think it’s stupid and childish.” she paused for a few seconds, gathering her courage. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Well, I can’t promise I won’t laugh, but I can promise that I won’t laugh at you maliciously or make fun of you.”

The cellist sighed. “Alright, I guess that will have to do. Well, I have this stuffed animal, Hobbes the tiger, actually, that I still sleep with.” She trailed off at the end, her voice almost a whisper, and didn’t look at Vinyl for fear of seeing the ridicule she was sure she would find on the DJ’s face.

Instead, Vinyl only gave the black haired woman a bright grin. “Aww, Tavi, that’s adorable! Actually, tigers are my favourite animal, so I think that’s awesome!”

The cellist perked up at the jockeys reaction. “Really, you, too?! I’ve adored them ever since I was little; I love how majestic, fierce and beautiful they are.”

“Yeah, ever since I was little I’ve wanted one. They really are beautiful animals.” Vinyl looked up to find Jamie coming back with their waters.

The waitress put the glasses on the table in front of the musicians. “Here you are, girls. Anything else?”

“Just the cheque, Jamie. Thanks!” Vinyl replied. The DJ activated the screen on her phone to check the time. “Well, it’s a little early, but I guess we should get you to practice soon.”

Octavia looked at her watch. “I suppose it is getting close to that time, isn’t it? So, will we be able to finish recording tomorrow?”

The Jockey nodded. “Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem; we don’t have much left that I need to record. Tomorrow I’m going to use the keyboard and sample a little piano and one more cello piece.”

The cellist took a sip of her water. “Okay, that shouldn’t be difficult.”

Vinyl looked at her companion with a serious expression. “How are you feeling about your playing? Better?”

Octavia dropped her chin into an open hand and thought. “A little bit. The playing is coming more easily and feels more natural again, though not completely. I still have no inspiration to compose, either. But, the music doesn’t feel completely flat and emotionless as it did just a couple days ago, so that’s progress. Thank you again, so much, for trying to help me with it; I really do appreciate it.”

Vinyl gave the woman a warm smile. “You’re welcome, Tav, and I won’t stop trying to help you until you get past this block.”

The cellist gave Vinyl a hesitant smile. “Why are you so willing to help me? Not that it’s a bad thing, mind you, it’s just that we hardly know each other.”

Vinyl gave her a thoughtful look. “Yeah, we did just meet a few days ago, but you’re so easy to talk to; I feel like I’ve known you forever. Anyway, I consider you a friend and this is just how I am with the people I care about.”

Before the conversation could go any further, Jamie returned with the cheque. “Here you are, girls. Stop in again soon!”

“You know I will!” Vinyl exclaimed, as she placed enough bits to cover the cheque plus a generous tip.

“Vinyl, you don’t have to pay for me; I can cover my meal,” the cellist protested as she rose from her seat.

The DJ’s face split into a broad grin as she followed suit and headed for the door. “Nah, I got it! I threw a wrench in our plans and dragged you out here, so this is on me.”

“You didn’t ‘drag me out here’; I actually enjoyed our lunch very much, from the special milkshakes to the conversation.” Octavia smiled then gave the DJ a serious look. “Okay, you win this time, but I’m paying next time!”

Vinyl held the door open for the cellist.“Alright, deal!”

“Thank you,” Octavia replied as she walked outside.

As the jockey followed her friend, she walked past a bank of newspaper racks. One of the newspapers, the Equestria Daily, caught her eye. The headline on the front page, in large, bold font, read ‘WAR WITH TAURIAIMMINENT?’ Her interest attracted, Vinyl stopped for a brief moment to read the subheading: ‘Tensions rise between North and South Tauria as peace talks collapse; Princesses voice support for South Tauria’ by Novus Draconis.

Vinyl continued walking at a faster pace to catch up to her companion. Great, just what we need, a war with North Tauria. I hope Spitfire and Rainbow don’t get called back to active duty if that happens.

Vinyl caught up to the cellist just as she reached the SUV. Using the remote to unlock the doors, they both climbed in and Vinyl started toward the concert hall.

After a moment of silence, the cellist spoke up. “Thank you for lunch, Vinyl; it really was good.”

The DJ turned her head and smiled warmly at the dark-haired woman. “You’re welcome, Tav; I enjoy your company.”

Octavia’s face lit up with a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes and wrinkled her nose. “The feeling is mutual.” Then her face became more serious. “Vinyl, despite the short time that we’ve known each other, I do consider you a friend and I care about you. With that in mind, if you ever need or want to talk, I’m here for you.”

Vinyl was silent and stared at the road ahead as she digested what Octavia said. After a brief moment, she replied in a more subdued voice. “Thank you, Tav; that means a lot, and I’ll keep that in mind.”

Octavia took the DJ's statement at face value, and they continued the drive in silence, both lost in their thoughts. Before long, they arrived at the concert hall. Vinyl got out, retrieved the cello for her companion and handed it to her. "See you tomorrow at ten?"

The cellist gave the jockey a bright smile. "Definitely."

Vinyl returned the smile. "Awesome. See you tomorrow!" With that, the DJ returned to her car and headed back to her flat. Octavia turned toward the concert hall and made her way inside, all the while being watched by a certain pianist.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

As Vinyl drove away, Octavia was left with a view of the other side of the street and the small café that she liked to have tea at when she was early for practice. Looking at her watch, she saw that she had nearly thirty minutes before she needed to be at practice, just enough time to relax with a cup of tea.

As she was walking through the crosswalk to the other side of the street, she noticed Frederic, who was sitting at one of the outside tables, waving at her. She smiled at her fellow musician and walked over to him.

“Good afternoon, Frederic; how are you today?”

The pianist stood up to greet the woman and pull out a chair for her. “I’m doing well, and you? How is the recording going?”

Octavia settled into the offered seat before replying. “Well, we didn’t actually get any recording done today, but it’s nearly done. We should have everything she needs recorded tomorrow.”

Frederic sat back down and took a sip of his tea. “Oh? What did you do today instead of recording?”

The cellist gave a fond smile. “Oh, nothing much; we just went out for lunch and got to know each other more.”

She almost looks smitten… “I don’t know if it’s true or not, but word is she’s quite the party animal. Experimenting with various substances, staying up until all hours of the night, philandering with random women. I assume you know of her preference for women?”

Octavia’s face turned very serious. “She told me, yes. She did admit to some experimenting, as well, but assured me that was years in her past. Why are you telling me this?”

The white haired man sighed. “I’m your friend, Octavia, and I care about you. I just don’t want you to get mixed up with the wrong kind of people and that you know what you’re getting yourself in to.”

“And how do you know she’s the ‘wrong kind of people’?!” She replied in a defensive tone.

Frederic raised his hands to placate the agitated woman. “I don’t! I just think you should be aware of her reputation.”

The cellist remained defensive of her new friend. “You mean the rumors about her.”

The pianist tilted his head, conceding her point. “Yes, I suppose they are rumors. But sometimes rumors have basis in truth.”

“Well, until I see different I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt. I’ll thank you to not spread such slander in the future.”

Frederic nodded in agreement. “I’m sorry for bothering you; I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I really hope you’re right about Vinyl.”

Octavia sat back in her chair with a sigh and closed her eyes for a brief moment, relieving her annoyance. Why does he have to be so on the mark? After what happened this morning, I’m not so sure he’s wrong, but I want him to be... She opened them again and fixed a calm gaze on her fellow musician. “It’s alright; I appreciate your concern.” She allowed herself a small smile. “Now, I’d like some tea before practice. Where is the waiter?”

As she spoke, the waiter walked by a short distance behind her and Frederic waved him down, and the waiter walked over to the two musicians. “How may I help you?”

The cellist leaned forward in her seat to gain the waiter’s attention. “I’d like a cup of Earl Grey, please.”

“Right away, madame.” The waiter went to put in the order, leaving the two musicians to themselves.

After a short while, Frederic broke the silence. “So, how is your playing coming? If I’m not mistaken you were suffering from a creative block, yes?”

Octavia dropped her chin into the palm of her hand and sighed. “Yes; Vinyl has been trying to help me get past it, and it’s gotten quite a bit better, but it still lingers, some.”

The pianist leaned forward and placed his arms on the table, his interest caught. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m glad it’s getting better. What is she doing to help you?”

Octavia’s face lit up with a fond smile. “She’s broadening my horizons, getting me out of my shell and introducing me to things I wouldn’t try on my own.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Such as?”

Octavia’s smile broadened as she recalled her first outing with the adventurous DJ. “Well, she took me on my first motorcycle ride, out in the country.”

Frederic’s eyes widened in surprise. “Indeed?” I never thought she’d be open to something as risky as riding a motorcycle.

As Frederic was musing about Octavia’s surprising behavior, the waiter came back with Octavia’s tea. “Your tea, madame. Enjoy.” With that, the waiter left the pair to resume their conversation.

Octavia took a sip of her tea and let out a contented sigh. “Mmm, that’s better.”

“So, a motorcycle ride, huh? I never figured you for the type.”

Octavia’s smile turned to a smirk and she shrugged. “Neither did I, but it was so much fun! It was liberating; I felt so free, once I got over the initial shock and trepidation.”

“I can imagine. I myself have never ridden a motorcycle, but I’ve wanted to for a long time. What else did she introduce you to?”

The cellist took another drink of her tea. “She took me to this little hole in the wall diner run by a very nice woman named Jamie. Normally not my type of place, but the food is delicious and they have these milkshakes that they make with beer.”

Frederic’s face twisted with disgust. “Beer in shakes?! That sounds terrible!”

Octavia gave him a knowing smile. “That is exactly what I thought, but they’re actually quite good!”

The pianist’s face became thoughtful. “Hmm, maybe I’ll have to try one, sometime. What is the name of the diner?”

“Jamie’s Diner. It really is rather charming.” Octavia looked at her watch to find that they only had ten minutes until practice started. “We had better get going; we only have ten minutes until practice starts.”

Frederic checked his own watch. “Goodness, how the time flies. Well, bottoms up!” He finished off the last of his tea as Octavia began drinking hers in earnest.

After a couple minutes Octavia set down her cup as she finished her tea. They both stood up and Octavia grabbed her cello. “Shall we?”

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

The Mandarin Oriental, Friday, April 26th, 9:45am

Vinyl had woken up early to get a little work done on the set for the next weekend, and to set up the recording studio for her final session with Octavia. No sooner had she finished setting up her keyboard when she heard a knock through the open door of the studio.

Vinyl left the recording studio and opened the front door to find, as expected, Octavia and her cello. “Hi, Tav! Come in.”

Vinyl held the door open and the cellist entered the flat.

The cellist looked into Vinyl’s ruby eyes and smiled, glad that her new friend was now comfortable enough to leave off the sunglasses around her. “Good morning, Vinyl! How are you doing, today?”

The DJ closed the door. “Great! Ready to get this thing knocked out.”

The dark haired woman smiled. “Me, too. Shall we?”

Vinyl nodded with an enthusiastic smile and led the way to the recording studio, closing the door after they both had entered.

Octavia took the cello out of its case, went to her usual spot in the middle of the room and sat on the chair while Vinyl readied the soundboard and recording equipment in the booth. When she finished, she left the booth and closed the door behind her, moving to stand behind the keyboard.

“What would you like me to play today, Vinyl?”

Vinyl fiddled with the settings on the keyboard then looked at the cellist. “I need you to play a couple pieces, today, but don’t worry; they’re short.”

Octavia readied herself to play. “Which ones?”

“Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major and Brahms’ Hungarian Dance No. 5. Do you know those?”

The cellist nodded with a small smile. “I can play both of them.”

Vinyl smiled and nodded in return. “Awesome. Let’s do this! Go ahead and play me in.”

Octavia didn’t respond, but merely closed her eyes and started to play. She began with the Canon in D, a flowing piece that you can’t help but smile to with its light hearted melody and gentle pace. As Octavia played, Vinyl joined in with a low, but smooth bass beat. After setting the bass track, she played a wobbling bass beat, higher in frequency, and set it to cycle with the first.

Closing her eyes and bobbing her head to the beat, the DJ switched to the piano and began to play the piece along with Octavia. The cellist noticed and opened her eyes to look at the blue haired player.

As she took in the sight of her friend losing herself in the music, she smiled. Celestia, she’s beautiful! As she thought that, Vinyl opened her eyes and looked at Octavia, ruby orbs meeting amethyst. Octavia’s smile deepened; she blushed, just a little, and looked away. I’m glad she can’t read minds!

Vinyl opened her eyes to find the cellist looking at her, and she graced the cellist with a deep, genuine smile. Oh, Luna, she’s hotter than the sun! And so cute when she blushes! Why is she blushing? I’m probably making her nervous with the attention… She closed her eyes and put her focus back on the music.

They continued to play until, after only a few minutes, Octavia drew her bow across the strings one last time and Vinyl hit the last key on her keyboard. They both sighed and relaxed a bit.

“How was that?” Octavia asked.

Vinyl flashed her a wide grin. “That was great, Tav! How did it feel to you?”

The cellist dropped her head as she thought for a brief moment. “It was okay; certainly much better than it has been, but the music still seems flat, to me.”

“Well, I guess that’s still progress, and it was just fine for what I need. Now we just have the Brahm’s piece to do, and we’re done!”

“Wonderful! I’m ready when you are.”

With an eager smile, the DJ readied herself behind her instrument. “Alright, play me in, again, and let’s finish this!”

With a silent nod, Octavia closed her eyes again, placed her bow against the strings and began to play an energetic and somewhat frantic piece, to which Vinyl joined in on seconds later. The piece was short and the tempo changes were swift and often, going from fast and energetic to calm and flowing.

Vinyl watched the dark haired woman as the piece went on, and noticed her face become a mask of deep concentration. The piece was difficult to play under normal circumstances, with all of the tempo changes, but Octavia having trouble with her connection to the music made it even more of a challenge.

On the last tempo change, when the piece was near its end, the bow slipped and made a terrible screech. She let her bow hand drop to her side and tossed her head back, clenching her jaw in frustration. “Ugh! This is ridiculous! This used to not be a challenge for me; now, I cock up the simplest things!”

Vinyl stopped playing and moved to stand in front of the irritated cellist, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, Tav; it’s okay! That piece is difficult on a good day, so don’t beat yourself up about it. Plus, I got what I need. We’re done!”

Octavia covered her face with her free hand and sighed in relief. “Oh, thank goodness; I’m not sure I could stand to play that piece, again.”

“Well, you don’t have to!” Vinyl pulled the taller woman up and into a hug. “Thank you so much for doing this for me! It’s going to be so awesome!” She released the cellist and gave her a bright smile. “I’m going to mix the tracks this coming week, and it will be ready for my gig next Saturday night. Will you come?!”

Octavia gave a big, warm smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Of course, I will, Vinyl! I very much want to know what our combined music sounds like.”

Oh my gosh, she’s so freaking cute when she smiles and it makes her eyes crinkle up like that! “You’re going to love it!”

“I hope so!” The cellist looked at her watch. “Well, since this only took about forty five minutes, I think I’m going to meet up with Beauty and Harpo for lunch before practice.” She took the cello, which she had leaned against the chair, and put it and the bow back into the case.

“Sounds good!” The DJ paused, and her face lit up as she remembered something. “Oh! Do you have any plans for tomorrow night?” Please say no, please say no...

Octavia thought for a moment, a pensive look on her face. “I don’t think so, no. Why?”

Yes! “Well, the Trans-Equestrian Orchestra is playing here tomorrow night, and I may have come into possession of a couple of tickets, courtesy of the record company. Do you know of them?”

Octavia nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. “I can’t say I’ve heard of them.”

“Well, would you like to go? Free ticket so if you don’t like them it’s no loss!”

“I’d love to! It’s been quite some time since I’ve gone to a concert that I didn’t play in!” She finished with a soft, musical laugh that put butterflies in Vinyl’s stomach.

Vinyl was ecstatic. Yes yes yes! A not-date date! Even though she thinks it’s a traditional orchestra... Don’t get ahead of yourself; you’ll do something to chase her away!Fuck off... “Awesome! Doors open at 8:00; I’ll pick you up at 7:30, okay?”

“Sounds great! Casual or formal attire?”

They left the studio and made their way to the front door, where Vinyl opened it for the cellist. “Wear something comfortable.”

Octavia smiled again and walked through the door. Casual attire for an orchestral concert? Odd, but whatever. “Okay. See you tomorrow night, then, Vinyl!”

“Bye, Tav!” Vinyl closed the door after the cellist and went back to the studio to work on cutting the tracks.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

As the DJ closed the door, Octavia took out her cell phone and searched through her contacts. Finding the right one, she dialed it and put the phone to her ear.

“Hello, Beauty; it’s Octavia.”

“Hi, Octavia! How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you! Are you and Harpo doing lunch, today?”

“Yes, in about half an hour, at Domenicos. You’re welcome to come, if you’d like.”

“Wonderful, I’ll meet you there! See you soon.”

“Bye, Octavia!”

Octavia hung up the phone and, having reached the elevator, pushed the call button. When the elevator came, she took it to the lobby and left the building. On the street, she hailed a cab, and when it came near, she saw that the license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror.

As usual, the driver, a younger man who looked to be a local, got out and stowed the cello in the trunk while Octavia got in the back seat. After the driver settled in behind the wheel again, he asked “Where to, miss?”

“Domenicos, please.”

“You got it.” The driver pulled away and began the short trip to the restaurant. As they drove, the cellist let out a long sigh. She had mixed feelings about being done recording for Vinyl. One one hand, she was relieved to be done and have that pressure gone, but on the other hand, she was enjoying spending so much time with Vinyl and getting to know her.

I guess that, just because I don’t have the excuse of recording to go and see her, it doesn’t mean that we can’t still spend time together. Maybe lunch or dinner sometime. Maybe she’ll pick me up on her bike? That last thought brought a giddy smile to her face and a shiver of excitement.

Octavia continued the ride in idle thought and silence, arriving at the restaurant after only a few minutes. She paid the driver, who took the cello out of the trunk for her, and entered the building. She was early, so she secured a table for three and sat down to wait for her friends.

She didn’t wait long, for a few minutes later Beauty and Harpo walked through the entrance and found the cellist sitting at a corner table.

“Hi, Octavia!” the couple greeted.

Octavia stood to greet her two friends. “Hello, Beauty, Harpo!” She hugged her two friends and they all sat down together.

Beauty looked at her friend in earnest. “How have you been, Octavia? It’s been a few days since we’ve talked. What have you been up to?”

Octavia’s face split into a wide smile. “I’m actually doing pretty well! As I’m sure you both have noticed, I’m struggling quite a bit less with my music.”

Both of her companions nodded their agreement, and Beauty spoke up. “We did, and that’s great! But, what changed?”

Octavia’s smile deepened a bit as she reflected on the answer. “Well, Vinyl has been trying to help me get over my fears and find my inspiration, my connection to the music, again.”

Beauty and Harpo looked at each other, surprised by the answer, and Beauty continued the conversation. “Vinyl Scratch? When did you start hanging out with our esteemed DJ?”

The cellist’s face became that of surprised realisation. “Oh, I haven’t told you, have I?! I started doing some recording with Vinyl last Monday, to help her with her set for next weekend. We’ve met up every day since for a few hours before orchestra practice.”

Harpo turned his gaze to the cellist and chimed in. “Well, that sounds like fun, but how has she helped you with your music?”

The cellist’s countenance took on a somewhat dreamy look, with a content smile. “Well, she had me think about some fond memories, like my first solo concert and the concert I played for my Doctoral thesis. Then, she took me for a ride on her motorcycle to her favourite, secluded, spot.” This was met with impressed acknowledgment from her friends.

“She introduced me to Rock Band, which I actually enjoyed, despite being convinced for all of my life that video games were useless rubbish. She’s helped me to remember all of the great times and feelings I’ve had playing my music, as well as introduce me to some of the more carefree and adventurous things in life.” After the cellist finished, Beauty and Harpo exchanged a look of suspicion that either Octavia didn’t notice or it went over her head.

Just before Octavia finished speaking, the waitress came by and dropped off three waters and menus with a promise to be back shortly to take their orders.

Beauty picked up the menu and began trying to decide what to order. “That’s wonderful that she’s trying to help you, and even better that it’s working! Did you and Vinyl get all of the recording done?”

Octavia’s face fell a bit at the question, which didn’t go unnoticed by her observant companions. “Yes, we’re all done. She should have it all ready for her show next Saturday.”

Harpo put down his menu, having made his decision. “That’s great! Are you going to go?”

The raven haired woman’s smile brightened again. “Yes, she asked me to come, and I’m very interested to find out how our very different types of music will mix.”

Beauty smirked at the statement. “I’m sure it will be a blast! So, what do you think of our dear, free-spirited, DJ?”

Octavia’s smile that made her eyes crinkle up confirmed Beauty and Harpo’s suspicions, and they shared a knowing look.

“Well,” the cellist began, “she is unorthodox, and brash, but more in an easy going fun way and less in a rude way. She’s talented, confident, and mysterious, yet she is vulnerable, and hurt, I think. She’s certainly free-spirited and adventurous, though, and a lot of fun to be around, at least so far. Her being an albino caught me by surprise, but I think it suits her personality perfectly, being so unique.”

Beauty gave her friend a confident smile. “Yeah, she’s pretty self conscious about that, but I agree with you. Are you going to hang out with her, again?”

“Yes! We’re going to meet up again tomorrow, actually; she’s taking me to a concert!”

Beauty and Harpo looked at each other and started to giggle.

Octavia gave the musical couple a strange look. “What? What’s so funny?”

Both Beauty and Harpo looked at Octavia with cheshire grins plastered on their faces, and Beauty spoke up. “You, my dear Octavia, are falling for our delicious DJ!”

Octavia adopted a look of shocked surprise. “What?! That’s ridiculous! She’s not my type, plus I still hardly know her!”

Harpo fired the next volley. “Irrelevant! Your smile and the way you look when talking about her says it all: You’re smitten!”

The cellist looked down at the table, her face a mask of introspection.

No, I’m not interested in Vinyl.

...Am I?