The Sun Will Shine Again

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.