The Sun Will Shine Again

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.

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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…