In a Cello Mood

Chapters

August 27th
September 8th
September 10th
September 11th
September 12th
September 13th
September 18th
September 19th
October 6th
October 7th
October 8th
October 9th
October 10th
October 11th
October 12th
October 16th
October 20th
October 21st
February 32rd
October 22nd
October 30th
October 31st
November 1st
November 2nd
November 3rd
November 7th
November 8th
November 9th
November 10th
November 11th
November 14th
November 15th
November 16th
November 19th
November 20th
November 25th
November 26th
October 19th
September 9th

August 27th

Dear Diary,

I haven't written in a while - since June, I think. Maybe May. One way or another, I finally have a good reason to. Just today - this very morning! - I got my letter from the Royal University of Music and Musical Studies! You know better than anypony else that enrolment in RUMMS has been my goal for quite a while. And now it's a dream coming true!

And yet, while I cannot hold my joy at bay, I must say that today has also been very weird. Naturally, as soon as I had received the letter and told all my relatives about it, I went to MoonBucks to get a cup of my favourite espresso and calm down in the tranquil atmosphere of the coffee shop. However... I met a very interesting pony there.

An extremely interesting pony.

...

Anyway.

It was a hot morning, and the clocks were striking twelve...

***

It was a hot morning, and the clocks were striking twelve, when Octavia Philarmonica yawned, rolling in bed, her eyes still closed blissfully in post-slumber tranquillity, remnants of sleep clinging to her lazy mind. Shrugging off the remains of the dream - which, for better or for worse, included a group of pirate mares seducing her into consuming copious amounts of rum and having an orgy while the parrot watched and filmed the whole occasion - Octavia sat in bed, her eyes blinking against the traces of sunlight making its way into the bedroom through the thick bordeaux-red curtains.

Finally, battling the laziness that she'd grown accustomed to throughout the hot, serene summer, Octavia got up, stretching her limbs wearily, with a good yawn, as she trotted about the small room, making sure to avoid bumping into the chair that stood proudly in the middle of the room, resting on the chequered carpet after yesterday's cello practice.

"Hooves go up, hooves go down," the young grey mare sang as she performed the same routine of morning excercise, jumping in place and stretching her legs joyfully. "Up, down! Up! Down!" The cellist began to smile as she caught the right rhythm, not even needing the radio to support her musically.

"Octavia!" an older mare's voice called out from downstairs, her voice echoing, reverberating through the corridor in a single chorus.

"Up! Down! Up! Down!" Octavia grunted, not interrupting her exercise, leaning left and right as she tried to stretch as deep as possible.

"Octavia!" the same voice reached her ears, a little closer this time. "Are you awake?"

The cellist stopped, ceasing all movement, and took a deep breath, closing her eyes, the veins on her temples pulsating with effort. "Yes, mom?!" she finally replied in a quiet shout, turning her head towards the open door. "I'm awake!"

Eleanore Philarmonica, a mare of broad bone and lavender coat, with a curly blonde mane that, no matter how well-brushed or dyed, could not match the colour of her eyes, a radiant brown, peeked into the room, trotting inside immediately, levitating an envelope in her telekinetic grip. "You have a letter!" she announced, proceeding to peck her daughter on the cheek, much to Octavia's disapproval.

"Yes, thank you, mom." Octavia made a motion to free herself from her mother's embrace vainly. "Mom. I kinda want to read the letter in private," the young cellist reminded the older mare, putting extra emphasis on the last two words.

"Oh, of course." Eleanore withdrew with a 'knowing' smile that only a mother can have. "I'm sure the letter's from your coltriend~" she cooed, trotting away, leaving the room right before Octavia's nostrils exploded in embarrassed irritation, her face a tint of pink. "Moooom!" she roared, much to her mother's laughter. "Frederic's not my coltfriend!" With a sigh, the cellist picked up the envelope, laying it onto her bed. "Besides, he would drop by if..." she grunted, opening up the envelope with her teeth gracefully.

A quick glance at the letter told Octavia three things.

One, the letter was from the Royal University of Music and Musical Studies.

Two, it was dated 15/8.

Three, apparently, the Royal Post could not deliver letters on time.

Her heart being faster, Octavia picked up her spectacles, putting them on hastingly, as she squinted at the letter, the words dancing, refusing to stand in a stately queue.

Dear Ms Philarmonica,

The letter read. Octavia's heart leapt to her throat as she blinked, forcing herself to read further.

We would like to congratulate you on passing your entrance exams with merit. We are glad to welcome you to RUMMS, the classical composition faculty. You need to sign all the necessary papers and make the transaction for the first semester at our office by August 28th.

Octavia blinked, a goofy smile making its way to her face. I've enrolled! I'm in RUMMS! Yay! The young cellist eeped loudly, prancing about the room in delight. "I passed! I enrolled! I'm in RUMMS!" she shouted on top of her lungs, dancing like a filly, prompting her mother to return to the room post-haste.

Looking at her scared, shocked mother, Octavia grinned widely, willingly throwing herself in the older mare's embrace. "Mom, I made it! I made it to RUMMS! I'm a uni student now!" she chirped, not letting her mother chime in with a single word. "Now I just need to sign the papers and pay by-" Suddenly, the cellist stopped abruptly, a realisation dawning upon her. "By tomorrow!" she shrieked, breaking the hug and running in circles nervously.

Finally, getting a grip on the situation, Eleanore trotted towards her panicking daughter and grabbed her in her hooves, holding the trembling earth pony in a firm, tight embrace. "Shh. Octavia. Calm down. Everything's under control. We'll go there in the afternoon, and I'll pay at once." The older mare sniffed, not even taking an effort to look away from her now-calming filly. ""My filly is a student at RUMMS! I'm so, so proud of you."

Octavia began to feel uncomfortable, just as her blood pressure returned to normal levels and the pace of her breathing matched the thoughts in her head that, to her delight, stopped running about and tangling themselves into knots, but instead lay silently on the shelves of her mind. Of course it would all be all right. It was all all right already. She passed, and, in a few hours, she would go to the university and make it official. And mom has the money, and all is well.

"Is everything all right?"

Octavia turned her head, following her mother's gaze towards the doorway, where Jeffrey, an old unicorn butler whose whole life consisted of caring for the Philarmonico household, a stallion with a greying mane and a worn-out, equally grey coat, watched the two mares with the same serene, yet compassionate, look, that he always had while observing his mistresses from his very special place in life that he held.

"Yes, Jeffrey," Octavia called out before her mother could say a word. "I enrolled in RUMMS!" she announced proudly, with a hint of shame at being so overly-enthusiastic. And yet, the occasion demands it. Forgetting all propet etiquette, Octavia galloped at the old stallion, crushing him in an embrace. "I enrolled in RUMMS! I'm a student!"

With a graceful, elegant motion, the old butler freed himself from the filly's grasp, smiling politely - yet with unspeakable warmness. "Not yet, Miss. If you remember, you still have some formal-"

"We'll sign all the papers after breakfast," Eleanore interrupted him, glancing at her daughter with a kind smile. "Right, dear?" The mare walked towards the cellist, giving her a warm nuzzle on the neck.

Octavia scrunched her muzzle both at the form of addressing and the open gesture. "Mom, I will sign the papers," she corrected with a certain degree of defiance. "And I was thinking of going to MoonBucks for breakfast." Mentally, the young mare braced herself for the discussion that was sure to arise...

Only there was no discussion to be held. Octavia's mother just shook her head in disapproval, but said nothing against her daughter's decision, only asking, "Don't forget to brush your teeth, dear."

"I won't," Octavia said automatically, surprised that there was no resistance from her coffee-despising mother. Then, realising the implication, she rolled her eyes, trying to look knowingly at Jeffrey, who had already miraculously disappeared. That stallion... "Mom, I'm eighteen. I know how to look after myself."

"Seventeen~" Eleanore corrected from the doorway in a sing-song voice.

"Almost eighteen." Octavia grunted and disappeared in her private bathroom. Taking a glance in the mirror, she smiled widely at herself. This was the first day she looked in the mirror and saw not just the old boring Octavia; she saw the Uni Student Octavia. With the same smile, the cellist took a cake of soap and a brush.

Time to get ready, she though, entering the bathtub. I want to look perfect today. She sniffed at the sweaty air and blushed. And smell perfect, too.

She turned off the water, drawing the curtains to a close.

***

The tiny coffee shop was peacefully quiet as Octavia placed her order straight upon entering the small cafe, a pleasant ginger mare behind the counter going off to the even-tinier pseudokitchen to make the Scoltish cookie the cellist ordered. An espresso and a cookie. The usual. Octavia took a look about the nearly-empty coffee shop, only five little tables, a poor reflection of the new MoonBucks that they had set in the local district department store. And yet, Octavia preferred this little cafe, with freshly-baked pastry, and no hustle, no bustle, no shouting - a place where she could be alone.

However, this time, she was not alone. There was another mare.

The mare in question, barely older than Octavia herself, if not younger, was sitting at one of the small round tables of the coffee shop, completely alone, a huge cake resting on the table, a good quarter of it already eaten, with a huge grin on her bespectacled face. With a touch of surprise, the cellist noticed that the spectacles were the same model as hers, only tinted a fair shade of dark-purplish lavender that really matched her (strangely ponytailed, just like her own) electric-blue mane and radiant red eyes. Or were they magenta? Her white coat was stained by the cream from the cake, but it didn't seem to bother the strange unicorn mare, who, for some reason, was wearing a conical party hat.

A party of one indeed, Octavia thought, proceeding to the nice table by the window that overlooked the busy street, feeling genuinely awkward at the realisation that the only patrons of the coffee-brewing establishment were she and the weird mare, who kept smiling to herself as she hummed a tune, slicing the cake, the knife firm in her magical grip. Suddenly, she turned towards Octavia, motioning towards the cake with her head.

"Want some cake?"

Octavia blinked in surprise, blushing slightly at being addressed by a stranger. "I..." Why is she even talking to me?

"It's very tasty!" the party-hat mare assured her, levitating a piece of cake in the air. "It's also very expensive and I can't eat it all by myself. Wanna help me?" Octavia replied with a slow nod, still unable to fully comprehend what was wanted of her.

Probably because I'm the only one here she can talk to, the cellist replied to her mental question belatedly, watching the unicorn mare occupy the empty chair opposite her, the cake making its way to the new table. "It's my birthday," the mare chirped, suddenly hitting her forehead with a hoof. "Oh, totally forgot! I'm Vinyl." The mare extended her hoof, which Octavia shook slowly, as if in a daze, still shocked by the straightforwardness and general... suddenness of the mare - Vinyl. "What's your name?"

Octavia blinked, opening her mouth to reply to the sudden question. "Uh. Octavia. Octavia Philarmonica." She paused, searching for the right words. "Uh. Happy birthday, Vinyl?" I shouldn't have said that, the young cellist noted, just as Vinyl grinned even wider, shaking the grey hoof vigorously.

"Thank you, Octy! I can call you Octy, right?" Vinyl blabbered away, taking Octavia by surprise - not only by surprise, but totally unarmed. "See, Octy, it's my eighteenth birthday! Super special. But my friends, see, they don't think so. I invited them, but they must have forgotten." For a moment, Vinyl's face faded a little. "But, at least, you're with me, right?"

No. You may not call me 'Octy'. "Right," Octavia concluded, both feeling very mild compassion towards the mare - maybe because of her spectacles (Definitely because of her spectacles) - and deep confusion. "Um. Thank you for the cake?" She chuckled sheepishly, accepting the piece of pastry which, after the first bite, turned out to be quite delicious, with a strange, yet refreshing mix of mint and chocolate.

"My favourite flavour," Vinyl said with a smile, muching on the cake delightfully. "The freshness of mint and chocolate's.... chocolatness," she wrapped up lamely, with a tiny blush at her vocabulary.

Octavia giggled in spite of herself, covering her mouth with a hoof, her voice jingling in the stale air of the coffee shop, mixing with the sounds of running cabs and trotting ponies from the streets. The dim sounds of hectic city life did not bother the cellist, however; she was used to them only too well.

Vinyl blinked, her grin turning into a kind smile. "I really like your laugh, Octavia," she said warmly. "You should laugh more."

I laugh... enough? Octavia fought an urge to raise her brow, but merely smiled, forgiving Vinyl for now, if only because of the proper form of addressing her. "Thank you. I really like..." she paused, searching for an appropriate counter-compliment to show her politeness. "Your mane?"

Vinyl erupted in low, soft, jingly laughter, a sound of a trombone mixed with a flute. Impossibly, she reached for the cellist and patted her on the shoulder, sending a bolt of electricity through Octavia's spine at the contact. Physical contact was something she did not allow even her closest friend, Frederic, the wonderful pianist, and, in addition, a post-graduate student in RUMMS. Belatedly, Octavia mused if Frederic had taken some measures to help her enrol. No, not likely. Physical contact was not even something she liked to allow her family, usually; but this mare...

"You have a nice mane too," Vinyl said kindly, running her hoof through Octavia's mane, much to the cellist's bewilderment. "It's soft and smooth. I like it." The white unicorn leaned closer, obviously lacking any understanding of what 'personal space' was.

"I... I really really need to go!" Octavia jerked up frantically, flushing fiercely at the mare's touch. "I have a very very important-"

"Octavia, your coffee and cookie!" the barista mare called out, returning from the kitchen, levitating a plate and a cup with a smile - not the kind of trademark smile for such establishments, but a genuine smile of a mare who truly enjoyed and loved life.

"Come on, Octy, you haven't even drank your coffee," Vinyl observed, pointing her hoof at the barista impolitely. "Stay."

Frowning at the lack of please, Octavia trotted towards the counter with a sigh. "Drunk, Vinyl. Not 'drank'. 'Drunk'," she dropped, picking up the tray in her teeth and trotting back to the table.

"I'm not drunk," the unicorn protested. "Yet." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "I suppose I'll buy a pint of tequila in the evening."

Octavia sighed as she placed herself back on her seat, rubbing her temples with the tips of her hooves. Somehow, this mare was already giving her a headache. "Vinyl, you don't drink tequila in pints." The cellist took a sip of her too-hot coffee, her tongue immediately feeling numb. The mare chewed on it experimentally. Owie. "You drink tequila in shots."

Vinyl raised her brow, chewing her teeth into the cake. "You an expert in booze?" she asked, with hints of disbelief, which, to Octavia, seemed ridiculous, especially considering that the white mare resembled her in mane-do, spectacles, and choice of coffee. The cellist wouldn't be surprised if she learnt that Vinyl, too, had a blue diary just like hers.

"I don't drink alcohol," Octavia explained, taking a bite of her cookie - warm and soft, as it should be. "Besides, I'm underage." Taking a glance at Vinyl's bemused expression, the unicorn's mouth slightly agape - or just open in chewing? - she clarified, "I'm seventeen."

"Soooo...." Vinyl grinned, right after gulping down the remains of the cake. "You're a year younger than me, am I right?"

"No." Octavia frowned indignantly, tossing her mane back, her eyes closing for a millisecond. "I'm turning eighteen in October." And I'll be a mature uni student! Eee~ she squeed mentally to herself.

"That's awesome!" Vinyl chanted, grabbing her own coffee cup and taking a hearty sip. "We should totally hang out after that." The mare paused. "Drink a pint of tequila, too."

Octavia let out a sigh, putting on a strained smile. "Sure." Never. The cellist looked at the coffee cup sadly, knowing she'd have to leave it. But time doesn't wait. Besides, it wasn't like she wanted to stay here with this crazy mare... Vinyl. "Vinyl, I'm really sorry-" Octavia got up. No, I'm not. "But I really have to go. I'll be late."

"Oh." Vinyl's face faded slightly. "Okay..." For a moment, the white mare was silent, before letting out in a sad whisper, "It's just... my birthday. And nopony is here to celebrate it with me."

Octavia pondered for a moment. Then sighed and returned to her seat, cursing her good nature and upbringing. "Okay. It's just that I'll really need to go in a few minutes. Word of honour." The cellist smirked at Vinyl's ears rising from their droopy position at her return. "And when I leave, you can go and have a pint of tequila." Or whatever you want.

"Yay booze!" Vinyl closed her eyes, cute wrinkles forming on her face.

Octavia smiled, taking a sip of her coffee, and, simultaneously, taking a glance out of the window. The busy street roared with shouts of vendors and hoofstomps; the moaning of cab wheels mixed with the loud swishing of the afternoon wind. A kind summer heat entered the small cafe through the open window, sunlight dancing on the tables and the counter, near-invisible motes of dust waltzing in the air.

Busy businesspony and lazy roamers drifted about the city, the tick-tack hammering of hooves always, always being the everpresent, omnipresent hum of the streets. The silence of the coffee shop was not shared by neighbouring establishments, which, Octavia knew, included a manedresser's, a few cafes, and a full-blown restraurant crowning the street regally, situated rather far from its small-cafe sisters. The cafes buzzed with electric ambience, while the restaurant, serving a poor resemblance of Prench cuisine, blared with electronic trance and what they called 'progressive' house. Nothing progressive about crappy electronic music, Octavia thought mildly.

"What kind of music do you like?" Vinyl asked suddenly, making Octavia all but spit out her coffee.

The cellist turned her attention to the white mare, squinting her eyes. She... Can't read my mind, can she? "I... I tend to enjoy classical." Remembering most modern ponies' attitude towards her favourite genre, she quickly added, "I also like jazz very much."

Vinyl nodded eagerly. "Me too! Jazz is awesome. What do you like more: swing, bebop, nu-jazz?"

Octavia smiled, for once thankful for a nice discussion on a topic she could actually relate to. "Cool jazz, mostly. Though, bebop is good too." To some extents. Octavia took a sip of her coffee.

"I like piano trios," Vinyl replied, eyeing the empty plate where the cake had been resting with unspoken sadness in her eyes. "Just a piano, a bass, and the drums. Theloneighous Monk, too, when there's no sax."

"You don't like brass?" Octavia wondered in surprise. "I always thought a trumpet and a sax were two key instruments for jazz."

Vinyl shrugged idly. "I dunno. I play the piano and the drums, so I may be biased. A little bass too," she added. "If only I could play them simultaneously..."

Don't you have any musician friends to jam with? Octavia thought, but kept the question to herself. "I play the cello," she said, if only to break the silence.

"You..." Vinyl rubbed her nose in a silly - yet rather cute - motion. "You can't really play jazz with a cello." In a moment, she added, "I think."

"Yes you can," Octavia countered, downing her now-cooling coffee in a few gulps. "Oscolt Pettiford did. And I play classical, remember?"

"Oh." Vinyl nodded sagely - a gesture that made her look like a filly, infinitely younger than Octavia herself. The cellist chuckled at the relative cuteness and absurdity of the motion. "I see."

Octavia looked at the white plastic clock hanging at the wall, covered with slight grey grime. Three o'clock. With a deep sigh, the cellist stood up. "Look, Vinyl, I'd really love to stay with you, but I do have an urgent matter at hoof."

Vinyl's ears drooped, her eyes fading, fixed on the floor. "Okay, I guess." With a sad, heart-wrenching hope, she glanced up, making Octavia wonder if the strange mare had ever had friends. "Not even a goodbye birthday hug?"

Octavia's eye twitched slightly as she struggled with her inner protest. It is her birthday, after all. Yes, she's just a stranger... and just strange, per se... But look how sad she is! Putting on a smile, Octavia took a step towards the unicorn, giving her shoulders a tiny hug, which, on Vinyl's side, grew into a firm, strong embrace.

Shivering a little from the mare's surprisingly tender touch, Octavia waved at Vinyl from the doorway with a smile. "Happy birthday, Vinyl!"

With that, she disappeared, walking out, into the hot summer day.

***

Needless to say, dear diary, the papers were signed, and mom paid the sum in full at once. I was officially made a student. Can't really say how I feel now. Happy, true. But mostly I just feel tired. It was a long day, and a strange one at that.

This mare...

The ponies you meet, I guess.

I can only guess what the future will bring, but I hope that, whatever it is, it will be wonderful. I will try to keep weekly notes as soon as I have begun my studies.

Octavia Philarmonica, August 27th

September 8th

Dear Diary,

My first day at university has also turned out to be the most bizarre day in my entire life!

To begin with, we were told that the studies would start on the fifteenth of September. Imagine my surprise when I learnt that, contrary to the schedule, classes began on the eighth of September! Today! I can only praise Celestia that Frederic dropped by in the early morning to accompany me to university. I was so schocked when he dropped by, eager to pick me up, my not even knowing that I had to go to uni!

Needless to say, I brushed my teeth and groomed my mane and stormed out without breakfast. While Frederic assured me that I didn't need anything for my first day, and that I would merely have to listen to our dean's speech, my mother insisted on my taking a saddlebag full of exercise books and notepads - you must remember, dear diary, for you were in the very same saddlebag - and another saddlebags full of warm clothes and (!) condoms! Can you believe that?! Warm socks and a pack of rubber because I was going to listen to a dean's speech and then go home straight afterwards!

...Though, to think about it, I didn't go home straight afterwards.

I also know what tequila and cider taste like, after today. All thanks to Vinyl. That crazy birthday mare, remember? Who would have thought? Well, it seems that we'll be tied a little closer from now on.

It's a long story.

Anyway.

The sun had already risen high above the horizon...

***

The sun had already risen high above the horizon when Octavia took a deep breath, looking around at the sunlight, violet-tinted world. And the world was good.

The remnants of dawn had long given way to the near-midday sun, with ten o'clock approaching in a wave of post-summer heat, mixing with tiny droplets of momentary quasi-rain that vanished as soon as it had hit the ground of the crowded courtyard of the old, glorious building that was the Royal University of Music and Musical Studies, once a prestigious academy.

It wasn't big, Octavia noticed, standing on the barely-warm grass next to Frederic, who was talking to a group of PhD students nearby. It was a very moderate building, with only a few hundred students gathered in the courtyard, most of them freshcolts and freshmares, though. Frederic had informed her that their dean would be giving the speech outside, while the Electronic Composition faculty dean was to give the speech inside. That's not fair, Octavia thought, eyeing older ponies simply trot into the building, taking the four massive steps - and through the doors. But then again, it's not fair that all faculties give only Master's degrees apart from classical and electronic composition. Who the hay has just two faculties for undergraduates? Octavia sighed, shivering a little at the fresh gust of morning wind that carried the loud chatter of students standing in small groups all about, most of them, however, alone, shy to talk to one another.

One mare, however, caught Octavia's attention, making her take a step back. The white unicorn mare from the coffee shop - whom Octavia had not seen ever since, even though she'd visited the cafe quite a few times - was standing not far from her, looking around in a half-bored, half-excited fashion. It can't be-! Octavia backed down, staggering in surprise.

That was her great tactical mistake, for she bumped at once into some freshmare, who yelped, staggering away in anger and embarrassment, hints of anxiety on her face giving away slight fear. Immediately, Vinyl turned her attention towards the grey mare, as did some other ponies. A grin appeared on the white mare's face.

"Hey!" Vinyl galloped towards the cellist across the courtyard, grinning widely. "Octy! Never thought I'd see you here!" She slowed down her pace as she neared the grey mare, almost bumping into her. "Remember me?" The mare pressed her hoof into her chest proudly. "I'm Vinyl! The mare with the awesome mane?" She gazed into Octavia's eyes hopefully, searching for recognition.

Octavia put on a smile. "Of course I remember you, Vinyl." Can't forget such a weird pony. "We..." Octavia searched for the most appropriate way to express herself. "We ate a nice cake on your birthday," she said finally, her smile growing more genuine at the memory. After all, it doesn't happen that often, eating a cake with a stranger on her birthday.

"Will you introduce me to your friend, Octavia?" Frederic, a slighty older stallion, aged twenty-three, tall, slender, incredibly handsome, a skilful piano player, a restless researcher - the dream of every young mare, and, additionally, Octavia's best friend, smiled at the two younger mares, breaking the conversation with his peers. Bowing his head slighly at Vinyl, more due to his height than out of reverence, he winked at the mare. "I take it you two are short acquaintances."

Not really. Octavia forced a smile onto her face, accepting a quick hug from Vinyl that she barely returned. "You could say so," she replied carefully, taking a glance at Vinyl, who was all but bouncing in excitement. "What are you doing here, Vinyl? I didn't expect to see you here." Or at all.

"I'll be studying here!" Vinyl chirped. "Can you believe it, Tavi?" She pranced around joyfully. "The EDM faculty!" she boasted proudly. "The dean's gonna give the speech soon!"

EDM.... E-D-M... Octavia rolled the word on her tongue mentally. Aha. 'Electronic Dance Music'. Must be the Electronic Composition faculty. "I think," Octavia pointed out, "that your meeting is inside. It's Classical Composition here."

"Oh shit!" Vinyl's eyes widened in panic. "I- I gotta go! Thank you, Tavs!" Vinyl crushed Octavia in another quick hug.

"Tavs?" The cellist blinked as her fellow freshmare let go of her shoulders. "What about 'Octy'>" she wondered with a tiny smile. Not that I like 'Octy'...

"Well, we're friends," Vinyl explained, as if to a child. "I gotta have many names to call you, Octy." Immediately, she seemed to remember about the speech. "Okay, really gotta go!" The mare took a step towards the entrance when she turned round suddenly, grinning at the cellist widely. "Say, Tavs, don't go anywhere when the speech's over! I think we should go to a rad place to celebrate!" Octavia blinked. "Well, we're students now, and we'll be studying together!" Vinyl elaborated in a gleeful shout that attracted a few anxious glances.

"Vinyl, I really don't think-" Octavia began, casting a side glance at Frederic, who just oberved the verbal exchange with a kind smile, his blue eyes scrutinising the white mare diligently, unspoken youthful wisdom shining in them, reflecting onto the cellist.

"Tavs, I gotta pay you back for helping me with that cake back then!" Vinyl smiled warmly. "That's non-nego... non-nego... undiscussable."

Octavia laughed softly at the unicorn's speech, nodding swiftly after getting a silent bow of approval from Frederic. "Okay."

"Yay!" Vinyl gifted the cellist with another swift hug, which was now returned, and galloped off, dashing away into the building.

Octavia let out a deep sigh. "Mom's going to kill me," she told Frederic. "I have just signed my own death sentence." Why? For some reason... Uh. The energetic mare had just taken her by surprise. There was some... aura around her. Something that radiated joy and determination. Something that made Octavia want to partake in joy and determination. The feeling was rather... peculiar. I need to study it, the mare thought, with her usual book-ish longing for scrutiny.

"I'll talk to her," Frederic assured the cellist with a warm, fatherly smile. Once again, like many times before, Octavia wished Frederic were her elder brother. But he was already like a brother to her... "She'll listen, I am sure. You're a student now, Octavia." The young stallion placed his hoof on Octavia's shoulder.

"Thank you, Freddie." Octavia nuzzled into the stallion's hoof. "I think..."

The crowd fell silent with distinct abruptness as an old stallion exited the building, standing on the top step, right before the entrance, with no microphone, no special postament, no golden pedestal. Simply as that, the stallion began, "Dear students. It is a great honour and privilege-"

Octavia fell silent. The speech began.

***

"Vinyl, when you said you were taking me to a 'rad place', I didn't think you were taking me to a bar," Octavia observed, eyeing the grimy establishment cautiously. It wasn't, evidently, one of those underground basement-bars or clubs that her mother had warned her about - the evil establishments where ponies took drugs and had wild orgies - but it was still a far stretch from a nice-looking, cosy cafe - the kind the young mare was used to.

"It's not a bar, Tavi," Vinyl corrected the grey mare knowingly. And yet another nickname... Octavia sighed internally. "It's a pub." She pointed at the barely-occupied wooden tables, solid, rectangular, and an equally wooden bar counter, very plain and wide, so that it could hold a plate as well as a mug. "A working-pony pub at that. Bars are crawling with students by now." Vinyl trotted on, taking her place at the table.

Octavia raised her brow, following her new friend to the table. "I thought ponies sat at the counter, not the tables." She placed herself on the wooden chair cautiously. "In such... erm, establishments."

"Only drunkards sit at the counters," Vinyl explained, obviously never taking into consideration Octavia's intonation. "Sorry, buddy," she dropped at the old, gruff stallion, who was cradling his beer mug at the counter, not paying any attention to the two young mares. "It's a pub: you gotta eat here, too!" she cheered, the prospect of stuffing her stomach evidently alluring.

"So," Octavia wondered idly, "What's the difference between a bar and a pub?" she wondered, looking around with a wince as she took the sight of grim, silent worker stallions sitting all about the relatively small - only ten tables and the counter, and a few ominous shelves hanging on the walls emptily, in a sign of weird modernistic minimalism - room, sipping on their mugs of assorted booze. Not even a sports poster in sight, Octavia noticed. A very bleak place.

"Well, a bar is a place where they serve hard booze," Vinyl said, rubbing her chin rather cutely, to Octavia's mind. "Don't have whisky or gin here. But they serve neat salads." Vinyl looked around, raising her voice just a little, making her tone a tiny bit artificial. Octavia concluded at once that she didn't like the aritificial tone. Genuine Vinyl, though... At least, she's funny. And cheerful. And her voice is... good. "Also, they have more waiters in pubs. Much more waiters." Many more, Octavia corrected breathlessly. Many, not much.

As if on cue, from the back door - which led, inevitably, to the kitchen - came the waiter - or, rather, the waitress, a mare of broad bone, with an ugly face and a heavy step. "Ladies?" she enquired in a dull, grimy tone upon approaching the table.

"Two ciders," Vinyl immediately ordered. "And a plate of chips."

Octavia frowned, hissing lowly, "Vinyl! I... don't drink alcohol. I'm underage!"

"Vinyl let out a loud, artificial laugh, waving her hoof in the air. "She's joking. Two ciders and a plate of chips," she repeated pointedly, glaring at the waitress, who seemed like she wouldn't give a damn if a bunch of schoolkids came into the pub and asked for vodka on the rocks.

As soon as the waitress had departed to the kitchen, Octavia raised her voice. "What is the meaning of this, Vinyl? I told you I don't drink alcohol!" The nerve of that mare! Ordering things without even consulting me!

"Are you an abstainer?" Vinyl raised her brow.

"Well... no," Octavia admitted. But-! "But I'm not even eighteen. I'm not allowed to drink alcohol legally." Yet. Not that she didn't want to try... Mom will kill me. She will kill me dead.

"Pfft." Vinyl chuckled, waving her hoof in the air dismissively. "Tavs, I've been drinking here since I was sixteen. It's a nice pub. Besides," she continued, "you gotta start somewhere. If you start with gin and rum on your eighteenth birthday, that'd be worse than if you start with mild cider a month before your eighteenth birthday." Vinyl paused. "Your birthay is in October, am I right?"

Octavia nodded slowly. "You remembered."

Vinyl smiled. "We're friends. Couldn't forget it if I wanted."

"How do you keep your mane both straight and spiky?" Octavia asked suddenly, eyeing the mare's manedo. "I mean... gel?"

Vinyl shrugged. "It's natural."

"It's beautiful," Octavia blurted out, blushing a little. What can I do if it's... So... Alluring? Mesmerising? Captivating?

The waitress appeared, placing a mug of cider before each mare, pondering where to put the chips. Vinyl motioned towards the cellist. The dish made its way. Octavia blinked. "Aren't you going to eat the fries?" She looked at the steaming strips of young potato.

"I can't. I have braces." Vinyl pointed at her mouth.

"We also have a wonderful special treat today," the waitress chimed in blandly, the words 'special treat' never tasting so sour. "Every third tequila on the house." She looked at the mares expectantly.

Octavia narrowed her eyes dangeously. "Vinyl. I thought you said there was no strong-spirited liquor here?!" the cellist demanded in mild irritation that could easily burst into fury.

Vinyl seemed to sense that, and only chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head slowly, a bashful grin on her face. "Uh. I didn't say all pubs don't have hard booze.."

Octavia cringed at the horrible abuse of grammar. "Vinyl..."

"Listen, Tavs. We're preparing you for a wonderful student life of booze and who-" Vinyl paused. "Just booze," she amended. "You gotta start somewhere, and it'd be for thee best if you started under my caring eye."

Caring eye indeed... "All right." She nodded, motioning for Vinyl to carry on. "Just one shot."

"Two tequilas," Vinyl addressed the waitress, who vanishing immediately after. Delighted, the white mare took a good gulp of her cider. Octavia followed, the sweet apple flavour hitting her tongue immediately. She didn't feel any different, though, as she tried to dig into herself. No different than my usual sobriety... Content, the cellist took another few gulps.

Still, she shook her head in disapprovement. "What have you got me into, you incorrigible..." Octavia stopped, searching for the right word. Bassist? Drummer? Pianist? "What instrument are you studying, by the way?" she wondered. "Apart from composition?"

"The turntables," Vinyl said eagerly, downing her cider. "The EDM faculty is my ticket to the popular music scene. I'm pretty good with the mixer and the cross-fader already, but I want to become a full Bachelor of Turntablism!"

Octavia blinked, unsure of what to say, musing whether such a degree was real or if it was a figure of speech. "That's... nice," she said finally, not wanting to offend the young DJ-to-be. After all we all have out views on music. Friends disagree. Once more, Octavia blinked, surprised at her trail of though. Since when am I thinking of us as friends?

The tequila arrived, courtesy of the visibly disgruntled waitress, in two shots that made their way to the table. Vinyl grinned widely. "Try it," she nudged Octavia, who took an experimental sniff. It was nothing to be lured by, but nothing gut-wrenching either. Closing her eyes, Octavia took a tiny sip. The dry, sour taste made her cough bitterly.

"That's all right," Vinyl assured her. "They just don't have lemon and salt," she explained, leaving Octavia to wonder what difference it would make. "Now, you gotta gulp down the whole shot, to kill the taste," Vinyl tutored gently, eyeing the cellist with some grown-up indulgence.

Don't patronise me! Octavia frowned and downed her tequila at once. Immediately, a surge of heat hit her throat, and then stomach; and her head became light as an air balloon. All thoughts vanished and giggly happiness washed inside her belly. The cellist laughed aloud, looking at Vinyl tenderly, thanking the DJ for introducing her to the marvellous drink. I need to repeat that.

"Waiter!" Octavia slurred, raising her hoof, shaking a little in glee and anticipation. "Another! And this one's on the house"

***

Needless to say, I returned home a little... later than I was expected. A lot later, in fact.

I expected Mom to give me hell for my rather... tipsy greeting of her in the doorway, my being propped at Vinyl for steady support. But instead, she let us both in and gave us tea and biscuits, made by Jeffrey for the occasion! Dear diary, I love my mother so much. I love Jeffrey so much. I love you so much. I love Vinyl so much. I love everypony!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go doze off. Four tequilas do not exactly contribute to an easily-written entry.

Octavia Philarmonica, September 8th

September 10th

Dear Diary,

Making friends is nice. Making enemies, not so nice. At school I had no enemies. At music school, I had rivals, but there was never hatred aimed at me. Now there is this mare in my group, and, by Celestia, I can feel the animosity. It all started this morning, when we were having our Introduction to IP Law seminar.

I honestly don’t understand why we need any kind of Law. Or Philosophy. It’s a music faculty, for Celestia’s sake!

***

“It’s a Music faculty, for Celestia’s sake!” Octavia exclaimed, shifting in her seat right in front of the teacher’s desk. She looked at Lyra, who was sitting on her right. “I mean, I expected we’d be studying Music History, Music Theory and the like. Not Law.”

Lyra shrugged and yawned. “I know all this stuff anyway. Patents, copyright. That’s foal’s play.” She glanced at Bon-Bon, who was snoozing to her right. “Hey, Bonnie. Wakey wakey.” She patted her marefriend on the shoulder.

“The seaponies!” Bon-Bon shrieked, her eyes opening wide. She took a swift glance around her and relaxed visibly. “Sorry, I’m a little sleepy. Was doing homework all night.” The cream-coloured mare smiled weakly.

“Bonnie, why would you lie to our friend?” Lyra said disapprovingly, shaking her head. She turned towards Octavia, who was already feeling somewhat uneasy. “We were having sex all night long,” Lyra explained loudly, yet with a pretense of confidentiality. “Bon-Bon asked me to go again and again, but in the end, my tongue was just… you know.” Lyra winked, while Bon-Bon blushed and averted her eyes, pretending she hadn’t heard.

No, I don’t. Octavia blinked. “What’s wrong with your tongue? Why would it be-”

“Hey,” came a feminine voice from the left. Octavia turned to the source of the voice, only to see a blue earth pony mare with a neat brown mane. “Can you not discuss your sex life in class? It’s fucking annoying.”

“Can you not swear like a sailor?” Lyra retorted in irritation. “It’s annoying. If you’re envious, there’s nothing I can do about that. I’m not sharing Bon-Bon.” Bon-Bon eeped and shifted away from her marefriend.

The blue pony gritted her teeth, then just smiled silkily. “Oh, I wouldn’t think of rutting somepony as fat as your marefriend. Keep her.”

“You little-” Lyra stood up, scaring Octavia more than a little (the mare felt as if she were between two great fires, ready consume her and not even notice), but, suddenly, the whole group stood up.

“Morning, first years!” The professor stormed into the classroom, a grey young stallion with a short black mane, cut in an I’m-a-rich-lawyer manner. “Sorry I’m late, had some business to tend to. So, let’s not waste any time. In this class, we’ll be learning…” He moved towards the whiteboard and wrote out, repeating: “Copyright. Patents. And trademarks. We’ll leave designs for those in Architecture. Now, let’s get acquainted.” He looked at the ponies, blinking in lack of understanding. “Why are you all standing? I know it’s a polite form of greeting, but I don’t need to give you permission to sit down. It’s not school.”

Everypony sat down. Octavia released the breath she’d been holding. Apparently, the storm had passed. She took a glance to the right. Lyra was gritting her teeth, but remained silent. The blue mare on her left was just smiling silkily. Octavia didn’t feel particularly assured this was the end of the quarrel. She didn’t want to be caught between Scylla and Charybdis.

“All right, let’s get acquainted. My name’s Professor Dan, but everypony just calls me Professor Dan. So you may call me Professor Dan.” The stallion smiled. The audience remained tense and mortified. The professor sighed. “All right. I knew I wasn’t going to break the ice that way. Next time I’ll bring a pickaxe and a bucket of ice. So.” He pointed at the leftmost pony, who was sitting on the blue mare’s left. “Could you tell us your name and a bit about yourself?”

The lavender mare stood up, gulping as she did so. “M-my…” She cleared her throat. “My name is Salty Shores, and I am a student of the classical faculty.” She continued, a little more confidently, “My aim is to master my vocals and to become an opera singer.”

“With the name like this,” the blue mare whispered loudly, “I doubt she will ever become popular.”

“What about you, young lady?” Professor Dan addressed the blue pony, either pretending he hadn’t heard the remark or really having not heard it.

“My name is Beauty Brass,” the mare said proudly, standing up. “And I’m from the Brass family, of which you all might have heard.”

Octavia gasped. She is from one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the world of classical music… The young cellist sighed. And she seems pretty stuck-up. Another thought crossed her mind. I wonder if Vinyl sees me this way…

Lyra muttered, “Bad apple,” and looked away.

“Sorry, have never heard of the Brasses,” Professor Dan confessed with a smile. “I’m more of a lawyer type, and I listen mostly to jazz.”

“Anyway,” Beauty continued, a little hurt, “I am a multi instrumentalist and I am pursuing the piano, the violin, and vocals. All as part of my special individual schedule.” With that, she sat down with dignity.

“I see,” Professor Dan remarked, walking towards the window and looking out. “Back in law school they used to say that those who try to be proficient at everything end up being proficient at nothing.” Then he smiled broadly. “But, of course, I am sure that is not the case in music.”

“Oooooh~” Lyra cooed, turning left with a smile of her own. “Do you need some water, Miss Brass? That burn was pretty bad.”

“My name is Octavia Philarmonica.” Octavia stood up before a war could break out. “I study the cello and I hope I will make some great friends here. I like studying and reading books. I also like the music of Fabius Horseshopin.”

“Oh, Maestro Horseshopin?” Professor Dan grinned. “Yes, he is a talented composer. His son used to be a student of mine.”

“I know.” Octavia smiled back. “I know his son too. We’re friends.”

This remark evoked a collective gasp of awe from the majority of the group. Octavia sat down with a thin blush on her cheeks. Beauty whispered something to herself, but Octavia couldn’t hear.

Lyra stood up. “I’m Lyra Heartstrings, I play the lyre, and I know everything.” She sat down just as quickly, smiling at the visibly surprised professor, who took a step away from the window and took a closer look at the mint mare.

“How do you mean?” he enquired. “Please elaborate.”

“What’s there to elaborate on?” Lyra shrugged. “I’m just an omniscient entity.” Most ponies in the group laughed.

Professor Dan laughed too. “Well, you sure do know how to break the ice.” He pondered. “What is the most recent change in patent law, enacted by the latest Patents and Designs Act?” The stallion smiled broadly, knowing that he had caught the boasty mare unawares.

Lyra waited a second, her eyes closed. Then, she opened them. “In the past, we used to have a first-to-invent system, which granted the patent to the pony who first created the invention. Now we have a first-to-file system, which grants the patent to the pony who first filed for the patent with the Trademark and Patent Office.”

The group fell silent. Professor Dan’s smile faded a little and he looked at Lyra with surprise and admiration. “Well. Interesting. Usually this is an exam question… Well, Miss Heartstrings is right. The only thing is-”

“The only thing is,” Lyra continued, “it is the first to reveal the invention to the public, not the first to file. But since there is no first-to-reveal system, we still consider it a form of first-to-file.” She smiled at how Professor Dan’s jaw fell slightly agape. “Do you want me to talk on public disclosure and prior art?”

“No. No.” Professor Dan opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then opened it again. Like a fish, Octavia mused, herself shocked and freaked out by Lyra’s behaviour. “What’s three hundred and fifty-seven multiplied by one thousand seven hundred and twelve?” Professor Dan asked suddenly.

Lyra huffed. “I’m a know-it-all, not a calculator.” She closed her eyes. “That would be six-one-one-one-eight-four. Sorry,” she chuckled. “My brain’s loading numbers that way.”

The professor mumbled and took a calculator. In a moment, he sat down on the chair. “All the ponies in this university are crazy,” he mumbled to himself. In a moment, he straightened himself. “All right! What are black holes?”

Lyra closed her eyes. “Portals to other dimensions.”

“But we don’t even know that yet!” Professor Dan was clearly on the verge of breaking down.

Lyra shrugged. “Well, I do.”

“The only thing she doesn’t know,” Bon-Bon whispered to Octavia, “is how to make me come in the first ten minutes.”

“Come where?” Octavia blinked in lack of understanding. “In the first ten minutes of what?”

But Bon-Bon had already risen from her place to introduce herself. “My name is Bon-Bon, and I-”

Octavia took a breath and leaned back. Something told her this wasn’t going to be like school. Not in the slightest.

***

“And then she told us the essence of black holes!” Octavia exclaimed to Vinyl, walking with the mare out of the university building. “Right after calculating an insane number!”

“Yeah.” Vinyl nodded, following her friend outside. “She knows everything. Remember when I told you about those ostriches?”

Octavia groaned and fought the urge to facehoof. Instead, she focused on what she had been planning to do. For some reason, inviting a friend over looked like a simple task, but each time she thought about inviting Vinyl for a cup of tea, she felt a weird feeling in her stomach telling her that it was not a very good idea. At least, she was thankful that Lyra and Bon-Bon had left together, “lest they kill that bloody bitch Bea.” “Vinyl,” she said finally, “would you like to drop by my place? I have tea and biscuits.” Octavia blushed, for some unknown reason. “They are delicious.”

Vinyl looked at her friend suspiciously. “Do you need to ‘get your computer fixed’?”

“What.” Octavia blinked. “What does that even mean?”

“I dunno.” Vinyl shrugged her shoulders, her saddlebag lowering a little - a gesture that Octavia found slightly alluring. What the hay, brain. Seriously, what the hay are you thinking. “I saw it on a TV show.”

“What…” Octavia almost stopped upon crossing the lawn. “What’s a TV show?”

Before Vinyl could answer - and it seemed she herself wasn’t sure what she was talking about - Octavia heard a silky voice coming from the side: “Oh, if this isn’t Octavia Philarmonica.”

Octavia turned towards the source of the voice and saw the now-familiar blue mare. “Beauty Brass,” the cellist replied cautiously, trying not to let any emotion into her voice.

“Hello, Octavia,” Beauty said plainly. “Nice to have met you today. And what is this weird-maned calamity of a mare walking by your side?”

“Thanks!” Vinyl smiled a foal’s smile. “You look pretty good too.”

“Vinyl!” Octavia hissed, stepping closer to the white mare. “That’s not a compliment. She’s basically saying you look ridiculous.”

“Why would you say that?” Vinyl asked in a hurt voice. “That’s not very nice.”

“Because,” Beauty said, advancing on the two mares, “your mane looks awful.”

“I usually have it in a ponytail, but-” Vinyl began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“And because you don’t look sophisticated enough to qualify to even talk to me,” Beauty finished.

Vinyl blinked, trying to process the insult. “Don’t listen to her. Let’s get going,” Octavia urged, placing her hoof on Vinyl’s shoulder. “You don’t want to mess with a Brass.” Celestia knows what they can do…

“That’s right, Octavia,” Beauty said approvingly. “You never mess with a Brass. I’ve heard of the Philarmonico family. You had some pretty talented ancestors.” She tossed that awful smile of hers towards the young cellist. “I’m sure you will realise that these underlings are no match for you. I will be waiting for you then.”

“If Vinyl is not sophisticated enough for you,” Octavia rapped out, “then neither am I. Let’s go, Vinyl.” She grabbed the white mare by the shoulders, and the two of them made way in the direction of Octavia’s house.

***

“You have a butler.”

Those were the first words Vinyl uttered upon being greeted by Jeffrey at the doorstep. “Good afternoon, Miss,” he greeted Octavia, no emotion touching his face. “Good afternoon, Miss-”

“Vinyl,” Octavia quickly supplied, closing the door behind her. “Vinyl Scratch. She’s my friend from university.” Actually saying those words was weird. She hadn’t had friends since early foalhood, and, to be frank, she had only had Spitfire, a pegasus who had moved on to Celestia-knows-where with her family. So, saying that she had a friend over was very strange.

“Can I touch him?” Vinyl took a step towards the butler, who, still unperturbed, took a step back from her. “I’ve never seen a butler before,” she explained. “How many times a day do you feed him? Why is he grey: shouldn’t he be black?”

“Vinyl!” Octavia blushed thickly, grabbing her friend and drawing her away from Jeffrey. “He is just a pony! And why would he be black?” She nudged Vinyl in the direction of the kitchen. “Sorry, Jeffrey,” she addressed the butler, who didn’t seem like he could ever be disturbed by anything.

“I dunno. It just seemed like the right thing to say.” Vinyl opened her mouth to say something else, but a familiar lavender mare walked out of the kitchen. “Hello, Octavia. Hello, Vinyl.”

“Hi, Miss Philarmonica!” Vinyl greeted Octavia’s mother cheerfully. “Nice seeing you again. Cool mane.” Octavia felt an urge to be somewhere else, preferably right now. “Nice seeing your butler, too. Last time I was here, seeing Tavi home after-” Octavia kicked the white mare with a hindleg. “Ahem, anyway, last time I was here, Jeffrey wasn’t here.” She smiled at the butler. “He’s pretty cool, even though he looks pretty snooty.”

By Celestia, Vinyl, Octavia groaned mentally, would it kill you to have some semblance of tact? “Let’s go have some tea,” she urged, trotting into the kitchen ahead of her mother and her friend. On the table there were two cups, and two dirty cups in the sink. Which was very surprising, considering Jeffrey always did the dishes immediately upon their having been stained.

“Frederic was here just now,” Eleanore explained the cups. “He’s doing well and is glad you’re doing well too.”

“Frederic?” Vinyl asked, sitting down at the table and taking one of the clean cups. “The guy you have a crush on?”

“I don’t!” Octavia protested loudly with a thick blush. “He’s like an older brother to me,” she explained.

“Well,” Vinyl shrugged. “If you incest…”

Eleanore poured tea in the cups with a smile. “I hope you two have a nice chat. Jeffrey and I will be going to get the groceries.”

“What?” Octavia felt mortified. They are leaving me alone with Vinyl? For some reason, that thought filled her with dread. She had never been alone at home with another pony that was not her mother or Jeffrey or Frederic - who, again, was more of a brother than a friend.

“Miss Philarmonica, I wanted to ask,” Vinyl chimed in. “Did you really pack condoms in Tavi’s bag?

Octavia was glad she wasn’t drinking tea. Because she would have certainly spat it out. “Vinyl!” she exclaimed.

“I did, dear,” Eleanore said simply. “I just want my filly to be safe in all situations. Don’t you think that’s what mothers should do?”

“I…” Vinyl looked away, staring at the wall for a while, confusing both the daughter and the mother. “Yes, I guess so.” She began sipping her tea in a weird, lugubrious manner.

“Have fun, you two~” Eleanore cooed and trotted out of the kitchen. In a while, there was the sound of the door closing.

“I have no idea why they would leave us alone,” Octavia confessed, finally taking a sip of her tea.

“I think,” Vinyl said, drinking her tea in small sips, “that they wanted to give us some privacy.”

“Why would we need privacy?” Octavia felt suspicions crawling into her head, suspicions of a nature she didn’t particularly feel comfortable thinking about.

“Well…” Vinyl leant in a little. “Maybe we want to talk about sex.” She wiggled her brow. Octavia blushed hotly.

“W-why would we talk about sex?” She looked around, but there was no refuge to be found. Only Vinyl’s marvellous seductive eyes… Brain, what the hell are you thinking right now.

“Come on…” Vinyl winked. “That’s what friends talk about when they’re alone.” She sipped on her tea. “Tell me, would you bang Colt Eastwood?”

“What?” Octavia thought she couldn’t blush any thicker. Turned out, she could. “I- I don’t know. No! Probably not.”

“What about James Colt?” Vinyl suggested, leaning back - a gesture appreciated by the grey mare. “Wouldn’t you want to take his big-”

“No!” Octavia shrieked, flushing crimson. That’s bad for my blood pressure. “No, I wouldn’t!” Why the hell is she asking me all this?!

“As I have thought.” Vinyl gulped down the rest of the tea calmly. “You’re a filly-fooler. Congrats on your newly-discovered sexuality.” She looked around. “Hey, you think you have any bagels?”

“I am not a filly-fooler!” Octavia took a deep breath and composed herself. This was Vinyl, after all. She just had to get used to her friend’s quirks. The grey pony stood up and moved towards the fridge. “We have some fresh strawberries. Would you like some?”

“Of course.” Vinyl nodded. “See? You are a filly-fooler. You chose filly-fooler food.”

“Strawberries aren’t filly-fooling food!” Octavia put the bowl onto the table and closed the fridge. “Besides, you said you wanted those yourself. That makes you a filly-fooler too, judging by your logic.”

Vinyl winked and leaned in again. Octavia felt very hot and uncomfortable. “Never said I wasn’t.” Okay. Octavia shifted away. This sure is awkward. “Say…” Vinyl continued. “Would you bang Lyra?” She immediately raised her hooves in the air. “Just curious. Since you’re now a filly-fooler and all.”

“I-I!” Octavia searched for words vainly. “She has a marefriend,” she said weakly. Not that I… “I mean, no. No, I wouldn’t. I…”

“But don’t you find her hot?” Vinyl continued the uneasy line of questioning.

“I think she’s rather beautiful, yes,” Octavia admitted finally. “But I am not sexually attracted to her.” I think.

“Oh.” Vinyl felt silent and took a strawberry. For some reason, Octavia felt very warm and strange all over the place upon seeing Vinyl put her lips around the strawberry. “Would you bang me?” Vinyl asked suddenly. “Just curious.”

Now, Octavia did do a spit-take on her tea. Thankfully, it wasn’t in Vinyl’s direction. “What?” She took a breath. “How can you even ask that?” But her mind had already drifted towards imagining her and Vinyl in bed, doing… adult things. Octavia shook her head. “I mean… You are my friend…” So? a little Octavia in her head asked. Does that prevent you two from-

Vinyl laughed, slapping her knee. “Ha. Should have seen the look on your face.” She smiled at the blushing pony. “Relax, Tavs, I’m just messing with you.”

Octavia laughed a thin, artificial laugh, while her traitorous brain supplied vague images of Vinyl messing with her in other ways. Considering that she had no idea how sex actually worked, those images were not erotic - but still very arousing by the mere idea of it being Vinyl with her. Brain. Please.

Vinyl rose from her place and went to get the kettle. “Want a refill?” she asked cheerfully.

“Sure.” Octavia nodded, trying to calm herself. “That would be lovely.”

***

I do not like Vinyl. I do not like Vinyl. I do not, do not, do NOT like Vinyl. We are just friends. I do not want her. I do not like her. I am not even a filly-fooler. I think.

If I keep repeating this inside my head, I’m sure the silly notion will pass. It’s just that… We drank tea. We talked. And I felt really warm. I thought it was just the warmth of friendship, but I was… hot. You get what I mean, Diary. This was a hot warmth, not the warm warmth like when I hug Mom.

We talked, and, despite our differences, I couldn’t stop staring into her eyes. I felt so great, so easy, so free, when I was talking to her. I laughed at her jokes because they were really funny. I thought about how deep she could be sometimes. When it was time for her to leave, I didn’t want to let her go. But I did.

But I do not like her. We are just friends. I do not want her. I am not even a filly-fooler.

I think.

- Octavia Philarmonica, September 10th

September 11th

Dear Diary,

Today was my first Friday as a university student. At school, I used to study six days a week, and Sunday was my music school day. Now, I suddenly found myself with two days off, not to mention a nice Friday evening.

Lyra and Bon-Bon suggested that we meet up with Vinyl and spend a nice Friday night… at a bar. Naturally, I agreed with some hesitation, and only upon assuring my three friends that I would never, never ever try an alcoholic drink ever again.

However, you know how insecure I have begun to feel in Vinyl’s presence since her visit yesterday. And alcohol does provide courage…

Dear Diary, I am a hypocrite and a drunkard. It’s official. And yet, it was a very fun night.

Oh, did I mention it was a filly-fooling bar?

***

“It’s a filly-fooling bar,” Octavia said plainly as she and her friends approached the old building in the city centre. The cellist had always marvelled at how the city centre was a mixture of old, stately buildings like this one and metal-clad skyscrapers, a blend of old and new that, surprisingly, didn’t clash - or, at least, didn’t clash enough for her to feel uneasy. Still, she preferred her cosy, peaceful outskirts to the everpresent din of the city centre.

“Sure is,” Lyra confirmed, standing in the queue to the entrance. “Bonnie and I met here,” she said warmly, dragging her marefriend closer. Suddenly, Octavia felt vaguely uncomfortable standing so close to Vinyl, who seemed cheerful and oblivious to the cellist’s predicament.

“How could you have met here,” Octavia wondered, advancing with the queue, “if you can only go to a bar when you’re eighteen?” She frowned. “Which reminds me that I’m not eighteen yet. There’s no way they’ll let me in anyway.” Which might be for the better, her brain supplied. Sure, her mother had been supportive, and Frederic even offered to see her to the meeting spot… but maybe an evening playing her cello would be preferable to this? And the music is awful, Octavia mentally concluded.

“We just turned eighteen,” Lyra explained, “but we met there two years ago. See, nopony is gonna ask you for ID. It’s all about face control. We look adult enough, we are let it.”

“I don’t look adult enough,” Vinyl chimed in worriedly. “I always look like a foal.”

“Don’t worry, Vinyl.” Octavia patted the DJ’s shoulder with a smile. “You may act like a foal but you look like a beau- like a grown mare. A very grown mare.” Octavia blushed, looking away. Brain. What the hell is wrong with you.

Lyra stepped up, wrapping her hoof around Bon-Bon. “Hi, Paulina,” she addressed the security mare, who smiled approvingly. “Long time no see. We brought a couple of friends with us.” She motioned towards the two mares at her back. “Vinyl and Octavia.”

Vinyl waved at the gruff security mare. Octavia nodded primly. By Celestia, I really feel awkward. A whole bar full of filly-foolers, and I am the only straight mare. What if some of the patrons start… kissing? Or doing other adult things?

“You don’t look like a filly-fooler,” Paulina addressed the grey mare. “Not that I mean any offence, but…” Octavia gulped. Here it comes. Now she’ll ask me for my ID…

“Oh, she totally is!” Vinyl assured the security mare, stepping closer and wrapping her hoof around Octavia’s neck. “She’s my marefriend. We’ve been dating for a while, and she’s just recently discovered her sexuality.” With that, Vinyl smooched Octavia loudly on the cheek.

This time, that was it. Octavia felt her knees weaken and her head spin. Friends do it all the time, she tried to reassure herself. Friends kiss each other on the cheek. And she’s doing it just so we’re let in. That reassurance did nothing to calm her beating heart. The very presence of Vinyl’s hoof around her neck, and her hot breath in the cold autumn air, and her lips against her cheek for a brief second…

Octavia had almost fainted when Vinyl let go of her neck and nudged her towards the open doors. “Come on, babe,” she said warmly, winking at the grey mare as she, having gathered herself, stared at the white pony.

“Seriously, Vinyl?” Lyra asked in disbelief, walking past the wardrobe and towards the dancefloor, where loud music - too loud to Octavia’s liking - blared all around from a crappy speaker system. “Did you just call your marefriend ‘babe’?”

“First, she’s not really my marefriend,” Vinyl replied, leaving Octavia feeling both relieved and offended. What. Brain, just relieved. Just ‘relieved’. We’re not marefriends. I’m not even a filly-fooler. ...I think. “Second, what’s wrong with ‘babe’?” Vinyl looked around for the bar counter.

“Only stupid-ass ponies use the word ‘babe’,” Lyra explained, leading the group to the bar counter. “You aren’t a stupid-ass pony, are you?”

Vinyl’s ears drooped visibly. “I… I dunno. Sometimes I think I’m not too bright…”

“She isn’t!” Octavia exclaimed, taking her seat next to her blue-maned friend. “Vinyl may not be knowledgeable, but she is smart and kind and her heart is in the right place.” Having said that, the young cellist tried to conceal her blush that had immediately appeared on her cheeks - which was not hard, considering that the bar wasn’t exactly brightly illuminated.

“Oh, Octavia is protecting her would-be marefriend~” Lyra cooed, taking her place next to Bon-Bon. “How cute! Reminds me of me and Bonnie early into our relationship.”

“We’re not marefriends!” Octavia protested, turning to Vinyl for support. Vinyl shrugged and nodded, confirming Octavia’s words. “And we won’t be!” she quickly supplied, seeing Lyra open her mouth.

“Oh, Octavia…” Lyra sighed, shaking her head. “When will you learn that I know everything…”

“What will you gals be drinking?” the barmaid asked, a pink unicorn mare with a bizarre manecut, which elicited a frown from Octavia and an eep of awe from Vinyl. “Gin for you, Leera, and whisky on the rocks for Bonnie… What will you two newbies have?”

“Rum!” Vinyl replied immediately, somehow managing to lean back on the bar stool. “I wanna feel like a pirate tonight.” She looked at Octavia and winked. “Yarr!”

Octavia’s heart skipped a beat. For reasons she could not explain, the simple expression was supposed to be funny, but instead raised a whirlwind of emotions inside the cellist’s brain, making her as hot as she had felt when Vinyl had visited her on Thursday… “Tea,” she said quickly. “Black tea. With bergamot.”

The barmaid raised her brow questioningly. “Tea? Are you sure you don’t want something… to get you going?”

Octavia eeped slightly. “No! I-I!”

“She just wants to be sober,” Vinyl chimed in with a knowing smile, “for all the hot sexings we gonna have tonight.” She looked at Octavia. “Right, babe?”

“Y-yes,” Octavia replied in the tiniest voice, just wanting to get her tea and preferably let the ground swallow her and never visit this place ever again. Her brain, alas, supplied vague images of “hot sexings” with Vinyl. She didn’t know whether it was good that she had no idea what sex between two mares was supposed to be like… or not.

The barmaid took a good look at the two ponies and turned towards the bottles, mumbling, “Only stupid-ass ponies say ‘babe’.”

“Told you,” Lyra whispered, while Octavia examined the surroundings. Thankfully, the bar didn’t look like a club: there was no DJ, nor was there a live performance. But there was a little stage to the side, which caught the cellist’s attention.

“What is the stage for?” she asked the barmaid, when she returned with rum (which Vinyl immediately downed), the tea, and the drinks for the two real marefriends.

“It’s for karaoke,” the barmaid explained, while Octavia sipped her tea and Vinyl asked for more rum. “Tonight is karaoke night, free for everypony.” She poured another shot of rum, which Vinyl downed before it could touch the counter.

“Damn!” Vinyl swore, licking her lips contentedly. “It burns! Can I just have the whole bottle?”

The barmaid lifted her brow. “You sure you have enough bits?” Vinyl frowned and shook her head. “As I have thought.”

Octavia sighed, taking out a pouch from her saddlebag. “There are eight hundred bits here. And there’s another pouch waiting in the saddlebag. Give us the bottle, please.”

“Damn, Octavia, you’re rich.” Lyra looked at the young mare respectfully.

“I know right?” Vinyl replied. “She even has a butler!”

The barmaid’s eyes widened, but she took some bits out of the pouch and put a full bottle of rum onto the counter. Vinyl squeed upon hearing the cork open. “Come on, Tavi, try some. You paid for it, after all.”

“No,” Octavia shook her head firmly. “After what happened last time…” She winced. Much pain. But much fun…

“Octavia,” Lyra said in a knowing tone, “I know you are afraid of the hangover, but I also know that, if you drink some rum tonight, your life will change for the better in the future.” She sipped on her gin. “As a consequence.”

“You can’t know-” Octavia began to protest when she saw Lyra’s smile. “Ah. You know everything. I forget. Still, no.” She shook her head in determination. “I don’t want to get wasted like last time. Sure, it was fun while it lasted, but… the hangover.”

“I have a hangover cure,” Bon-Bon chimed in. She looked at the tree ponies. “No, it’s not a drug. It’s pickle brine. My family comes from Stalliongrad, and it’s a common cure for hangovers. You should try this.”

Octavia paused. If there was a chance to have all the fun of drinking, but without the terrible hangover… No, it’ll probably be a bad idea…

“Come on, Tavi,” Vinyl urged, pouting. “Try just a couple shots? For me?” She fluttered her eyelashes, and Octavia fought to catch her breath in the wake of this simple, but alluring act.

“Well…” She drawled. Celestia, I’m really gonna do this, aren’t I. “Okay,” she said finally. “Just a couple shots.”

***

“When I come back from a mighty quest, I have no need for sleep nor rest!” Octavia proclaimed loudly, standing on top of the mast, feeling the ocean breeze on her coat, a full bottle of rum in her hoof. Okay, technically she was standing on the little karaoke stage, feeling the air conditioner on her coat, a half-empty bottle of rum in her hoof. Half-full! a little pirate in Octavia’s head protested. “I go to a tavern where I drink - and get so drunk I cannot think!”

The crowd cheered, and Vinyl cheered the loudest. Lyra was laughing, and Bon-Bon was just smiling warmly. Octavia wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she was sure she was having fun. Lyra’s prediction had turned out to be true. She had to trust her on all matters. Even those containing me dating Vinyl?

Octavia told her brain to stick that thought to a distant black hole. Now, she was having fun, and Vinyl was having fun, and they were friends, and what was she saying? “We are pirates!”

“We are pirates!” the crowd cheered, while Vinyl added, “Yarr!”

“We love wenches and mead!” Octavia continued, taking a swig from the bottle, feeling the rum burn both the insides of her throat and her stomach, all through to the bottom of her belly.

“Wenches and mead!” the crowd cheered. Vinyl added loudly, “And rum!”

“We illegally copy textbooks!” Octavia carried on, the bottle once more finding its way to her lips. Celestia, If I had known rum was this good, I would have started drinking a year ago. “And here’s my first mate!” she exclaimed, pointing her hoof at Vinyl, who was obviously the best friend in the world… so fuzzy… and why was she laughing… and suddenly next to her on the stage?

Well, why not? We’re friends! Octavia grabbed Vinyl by the neck, gulping down the remains of the rum, and extended the microphone. “Come on, Vinyl! Sing with me! Yarr!”

The two mares broke into a strange harmony:

Celestia bless the mighty rum!

It may be hard, but what’s done is done.

When I drink rum, I get all the mares.

Then they are gone when the rum is scarce!

Octavia waltzed clumsily, a laughing Vinyl at her side. Sure, Vinyl seemed pretty tipsy, but Octavia was fully drunk. She felt that she should stop and just go home, lest she do something stupid, but the rum was prompting her to dance. And so she danced. She danced, dropping the bottle, holding Vinyl close, laughing, without a care in the world.

The rum is gone, and I have the need

For beer and whisky, for gin and mead.

But once I’m done, and they are gone,

I sail the seas to get more rum!

Vinyl was so soft and warm. So beautiful. So laughing and smiling and cute. Such a good friend. A good friend to hug and hold close and never let go. The crowd began to chant, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Lyra shouted out, “Make out, you two! I have a bet to win!”

Kiss? Why kiss? Octavia stopped and looked into Vinyl’s eyes. The magenta beauty. The mesmerising eyes that smiled and laughed and told her everything would be all right. Why not? It’s a friendly gesture. Kissing. Octavia pressed her lips against Vinyl’s. The white mare muttered something and leaned back, breaking the almost-kiss. “Octavia, come on, that’s not a game. Let’s go. You’ll regret this tomorrow.”

“No regrets!” Octavia shouted, laughing. This was all a game, though, right? She was just playing the role of Vinyl’s pirate marefriend. With rum and parrots. They were still friends, and she was straight. Right? So she could do some straight friend kissing. She leaned in again.

Yet, this time, Vinyl grabbed the grey mare by the shoulders and clumsily stepped down from the stage, much to the disapprovement of the crowd. “Sorry, gals.” Vinyl made her way through the crowd, dragging Octavia with her. “My marefriend needs some fresh air.”

“Rum! Rum! Rum! Yarr!” Octavia shouted, ecstatic. This was so fun! Vinyl the friend was dragging her off to some sexings and there would be James Colt and Lyra and Bon-Bon and much rum… The grey mare felt like she was about to doze off.

In a minute, she did.

***

Yarr! Rum is great! Vinyl is great! She took me home and I told Mom she was my pirate marefriend but she knows it’s a game right? Cause I didn’t tell her it was a game but Mom knows I’m straight so I tried to kiss Vinyl like a straight mare and she didn’t so she left and I’m in bed writing this and Celestia I want more rum.

Rum! Yarr!

- a pirate Octavia, September 11th

September 12th

Dear Diary,

Pickle brine helps. A lot. Also, thank Celestia I didn’t have to go to uni today. Thank Celestia for Saturdays. Also thank Her for pickle brine. What’s more, the hangover wasn’t even brutal. I have a terrible premonition that I might be getting used to drinking. I’m not going to make empty promises, but next time I will try to cut down on the amount of alcohol I ingest.

I guess it’s the effect of didn’t-drink-at-all-leads-to-drinks-a-lot. Yes, I’m officially coining this term. I didn’t drink at all, and now my body wants to get as much alcohol as possible. I guess there might be a medical explanation to that. I’ll probably ask Lyra.

Oh Celestia, I tried to kiss Vinyl.

I really, really tried to kiss Vinyl. What the hell was I thinking? ...Okay, I was thinking I was a pirate captain. But when you’re drunk, your inner feelings show… No! I do not have feelings for Vinyl. The only way we should develop our relationship is as friends. Not something more. Just friends.

What are friends even supposed to do? I guess friends are supposed to hang out and talk to each other and share secrets. Ah. And here I realise we have a problem…

***

“We have a problem.”

Octavia took a long gulp of her pickle brine and exhaled in a relaxed manner. Vinyl just drank the orange juice opposite her. Sure, the cellist was rather glad that her friend had decided to show up at her place (unannounced) to check up on her. Sure, she was glad that her mother didn’t mind - and had greeted Vinyl rather warmly. Sure, she was a little anxious about Vinyl mentioning yesterday’s antics. Okay, she was really anxious about yesterday’s antics. But the thing she thought about most was that the two of them, indeed, have a problem.

“I know,” Vinyl said, nodding and taking up a biscuit. “Though, you have a problem. A drinking problem.” The DJ munched on the biscuit messily. “And admitting that you have a problem,” she added with her mouth full, “is the first step-”

“No,” Octavia interrupted. “I don’t have a drinking problem!” She winced at the sound of it, which somehow entailed the addition of ‘yet’. The cellist took another long drag from the pickle jar. So uncouth… Ah, who cares! If it staves off the hangover… “We have another kind of problem, you and me.” Was it ‘you and I’?

“Oh.” Vinyl looked around cautiously and put the glass away. Neither Jeffrey nor Eleanore were present in the kitchen, so the white mare didn’t bother lowering her voice. “Listen, Tavs. I get it you have feelings for me and all, and you tried to kiss me real bad…” She sighed. “But I’m not the mare for drunk one-night stands. I need real love.”

Octavia did a spit-take on the pickle brine, which ended up in Vinyl’s face. She wanted to say something, but an eep came out of her mouth instead. Then she eeped again. Then she finally yelped, “What?!” That’s… outrageous! And not true! “Vinyl, I was drunk! I don’t have feelings for you!” She paused. I think… Ugh, brain! “I mean, I do have some feelings for you!” Ugh! “I just want us to be friends!”

“So do I!” Vinyl quickly reassured, looking rather worried. “Sorry, Tavi, I was trying to be funny. I won’t try to be funny any more.” Sadly, she looked away from the pony and towards the fridge.

Octavia cooled down and sighed, picking up a napkin and wiping off Vinyl’s muzzle. “Sorry, Vinyl. It’s all right. You actually are a funny mare. It’s just that I am really ashamed I tried to kiss you without permission.” The grey mare smiled in a friendly manner. “And I, too, want real love. So here we are alike.”

“So…” Vinyl looked into Octavia’s eyes, piercing them with the magenta beauty that mesmerised the cellist so much. “If I… If I gave you permission…” Vinyl blushed a little. “And you weren’t drunk…” Now it was Octavia’s turn to blush. “Would you-”

“How is my little filly and her marefriend doing?” Eleanore cooed, entering the kitchen and smiling at the two young mares.

“Mom!” Octavia flushed, almost spilling her pickle brine. “Vinyl is not my- That is, I was- We are not dating!” she concluded, furrowing her brows at Eleanore. Yet, a little pony in Octavia’s head remarked. You are not dating yet. Octavia told that pony to shut up, or she would beat her up. With a stick.

“We are still considering our options, Miss Philarmonica,” Vinyl explained calmly. “But if we begin to date, you will be the first to know.” She smiled a charming and disabling smile at Octavia’s mother, who was content with this conclusion, and left the kitchen, leaving the two mares alone.

For a while, the two mares sat in awkward silence. Then Vinyl chuckled. “You know what? Actually, Lyra would be the first to know. Because she knows everything.”

Octavia laughed a jingly laughter. “See? You are a funny mare. You have a great sense of humour.” She paused, considering whether to make another compliment. No, she decided. That would be awkward. We are just friends. I can’t go overboard with compliments. Even though she deserves all of them.

“My sense of humour,” Vinyl replied with sudden sadness, “is a way of dealing with problems.” She lifted her beautiful eyes and looked at Octavia, and Octavia saw, with fear, terrible pain in them. “Something bad happens, or I think I can’t go on anymore, and I deal with it by smiling.” She smiled a very sad smile. “I laugh all the time so that I can feel happy. I make myself believe I’m happy. But with you-” Now the smile grew warm and sincere. “I really am happy.”

“Vinyl…” Octavia stared at her friend for a long while. I didn’t know you could be so deep… or so sad. What has happened in your life, Vinyl? “This is the problem I wanted to talk with you about.”

“My getting all sappy all of a sudden?” Vinyl chuckled, getting back to her old cheerful self. “Or my being happy in your presence?”

Octavia blushed, avoiding those eyes with their fires of mischief. Of course, Vinyl was jesting. Or, rather… Well, I feel happy with her too. But that’s because of friendship, Octavia assured herself. Friends feel happy in the presence of each other. “The problem is that I barely know anything about you.” Octavia paused, trying not to offend her friend. “We talk, and I tell you about my family, and Frederic, and I don’t know anything about you… Well,” she amended, “now I know that you are not all fun and games.”

“What do you want to know about me?” Vinyl wondered when her face lit up with an idea. A stupid idea, a little pony in Octavia’s head confirmed. A very stupid idea, probably of the punny variety. “If we’re talking about me today…” Vinyl began.

“Vinyl, you are about to say something very stupid,” Octavia warned her friend fairly.

“And my name is Vinyl…” the DJ carried on with a huge grin.

Octavia sighed. “Something very stupid.” She looked at the pickle jar longingly.

“Today’s gonna be a V-day!” Vinyl concluded with an even bigger grin. How is that even possible? the little pony in Octavia’s head complained. “Get it, like Valentine-”

“I get it, Vinyl.” Octavia deadpanned. The little pony in Octavia’s head deadpanned as well. “Vinyl, I want to know you. I really want us to be friends, and I want to be able to help you. In any situation.” Octavia smiled encouragingly. “So?”

“So?” Vinyl shrugged. “Tavs, if you wanna know things, you gotta ask things.” With that, the mare took another biscuit. Maybe it was the swiftness of the action, or the trembling notes in her voice, but Octavia realised that a) something was wrong; b) Vinyl was about to really open up, jokes aside; and c) she, Octavia, had to tread lightly. The little pony in Octavia’s head nodded and put on shades and a hat. Octavia blinked.

“Can I ask something personal?” Octavia tried cautiously.

“I’m not dating anypony at the moment,” Vinyl grinned. “Unless you consider our pirate-date a real relationship.”

Octavia wanted to make a retort, but, instead, smiled understandingly. It was evident Vinyl was nervous, and humour was the only way to deal with such situations that she knew. So, she took a leap. “What makes you feel sad, Vinyl?” She quickly elaborated, lest her friend consider it a vain philosophical question, “You told me that you use humour to battle sadness.” And I can see that. “Are those sad things petty things like your turntables breaking or-”

“That’s not a petty thing,” Vinyl interjected seriously, putting down the biscuit.

“Or,” Octavia carried on, “Something more… substantial?” Seeing lack of understand in the DJ’s eyes, she amended, “Something more serious?”

Vinyl took some time to answer. She tapped the table with the biscuit thoughtfully. Which looked a little ridiculous. “I never get upset about petty things,” she said finally. “It’s just that I sometimes remember the serious bad things that happened to me and my family, and I cry.” She looked at Octavia plainly, as if distancing herself from the grey mare - and from the world. “You know, I cry and cry, and can’t stop trying. Then I drink and laugh. But the tears are there.”

Octavia couldn’t believe what was happening. She felt surreal. It was as if Vinyl had been replaced with a sombre, serious counterpart. But, of course, it made sense. It made so much sense. The saddest ponies are the ones who always laugh. The most serious ponies are the ones who jest the most. “Vinyl, I am sorry that something bad happened to you and your family. Do you… do you want to talk about it?” She immediately regretted asking that. Because I’m not sure I want to know.

“I… I find it… weird,” Vinyl confessed suddenly. “I mean, talking about myself. I never did that before. It is weird - but nice - having a friend, but... Ugh. Sorry.” Vinyl shook her head. “You see, here’s the truth: I don’t have any friends. Well, didn’t. I didn’t have any friends and then I met you, in that cafe. I lied.” She raised her head. “I said my friends couldn’t come but I just celebrated my birthday alone. As I had celebrated it for years. Alone.”

“Vinyl.” Octavia stood up and reached the white pony, who now seemed significantly smaller and weaker. “Now you have me. And you will never be alone.” With that, she embraced the mare and held her tight. Vinyl began to shake a little, and Octavia was sure she would hear sobs, so she let go to get Vinyl some water, but, when she let go, she realised Vinyl was laughing.

“Sorry, Tavi,” the mare told the surprised cellist. “It’s nerves. I’m just so happy we’re friends. I’m happy I don’t have to be alone anymore. You know what?” She stood up as well. “I’ll tell you everything. After I have a drink.” Octavia frowned. “You don’t have to drink. I’ll be the one drinking and talking. Besides, I don’t have anything stronger than beer at my place.”

Octavia blinked. “At your place?” She took a step back. “Are you inviting me to your place?” Why am I nervous about that? Friends are supposed to go to each other’s homes…

“Yep.” Vinyl nodded. “Way I see it, I’ve been at your place three times, and you haven’t been to my flat. It’s not as posh as your house, but I manage.” She smiled and extended her hoof.

Octavia shook the hoof with a smile of her own. “Deal. Let me ask Mom and take my saddlebags.” She directed her hooves towards the doorframe.

“Tavi?” Vinyl called out. Octavia stopped. “That embrace of yours?” Octavia smiled. “It was so cute. And nice.” Octavia blushed.

Vinyl grinned. “And also hella gay.”

***

“Home sweet home.”

Vinyl tossed the keys onto the little table next to the door - a gesture that struck Octavia as strange for a unicorn. But, judging by how often she had turned over her shoulder, how often she’d laughed out of place, how she was sweating in the chilly autumn wind, Vinyl was nervous and anxious - which was only to be expected, given her place of residence.

Octavia manoeuvred between piles of junk on the floor - beer cans, stale fruit remains, empty bags of crisps, wrapping paper, and CDs and vinyl records. Octavia’s inner maid cringed at how dirty and messy the apartment was. One does not simply throw vinyl records on the floor! a little maid in Octavia’s head remarked. “It’s… nice,” Octavia lied, eyeing the faded wallpaper and the lonely lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

“I know it’s crap,” Vinyl admitted, turning on the light in the only room. “Here’s my bedroom. It’s also the living room, the music room, the dining room, and sometimes the kitchen.” Vinyl entered the room, and Octavia followed warily. “I don’t have an oven or a sink, but I sometimes use the sink in the bathroom. Which was to your left in the corridor.” Vinyl laughed artificially. “Ah, who am I kidding? I use plastic dishes.”

“Vinyl, that’s horrible!” Octavia blurted out, looking around the room. There was a small desk in the corner, filled with beer bottles and crisps, a single bed by the wall, a staggering lack of a carpet, the same lonely lightbulb… The only item of value (apart from all the vinyl records and CDs) seemed to be the sound system and the turntables. “How can you live here?”

Vinyl’s smile faded. “I manage.” She trotted towards the table and picked up a bottle of beer, opening it telekinetically. “There’s one room, I live alone, and that’s enough for me.” She sat on the chair, which left Octavia with no other option but to sit on Vinyl’s bed. Which felt wrong. Like a… violation.

“You live away from your parents?” Octavia asked, feeling an itch on the inside, an itch that told her the question was better off unanswered.

“I don’t really have parents anymore,” Vinyl said simply, taking a good swig. She looked away, and only now did Octavia notice a painful lack of windows in the room. It seemed like a basement, dark and damp.

“Oh my Celestia, Vinyl, I am so sorry.” Octavia rose to comfort her friend, but Vinyl waved her down.

“They are alive,” Vinyl said immediately, sipping the beer at a slower pace. “They just… left me.” Vinyl shrugged and put the beer aside. “When I turned fourteen, they knew I was too old for an orphanage so they just up and left.” She picked up the beer again.

“Vinyl…” Octavia was at a loss for words. She rose again and approached the unicorn. “Why would they do this?” she asked, stopping midway, unsure whether to reach the mare or sit back down.

“I guess they were never fond of me.” Gulp gulp went the beer. “I mean, they never played with me or bought me toys or anything. Abortions were illegal back then, so I was an unwanted foal.” Gulp gulp went the beer. “The law told them I had to go to school and eat and have winter clothes so they did all that. Then, when I was fourteen and they were no longer legally… res-pon-sible for me,” Vinyl continued with some difficulty, “they just said goodbye and left. Well, technically, they kicked me out. But hey,” Vinyl gulped down the beer, tears appearing in her eyes. “They left me this flat: it used to be a warehouse for all their stuff. So they took the stuff and let me live here.” Vinyl averted her gaze, making Octavia wonder whether the white mare was crying. The cellist felt tears in her own eyes. That’s horrible. Vinyl doesn’t deserve that. Nopony deserves that. “They do send me alimony though, the minimum amount.” Vinyl finished off the bottle, while Octavia remained frozen in place, her mind reeling at such pain and injustice. “But, seeing as I’m eighteen now, they’ll stop it the next calendar year.”

Vinyl opened her mouth to say something else, but Octavia had reached her and gave the mare a firm, passionate hug. Octavia sobbed and gulped down tears, hiding her muzzle in VInyl’s fur, feeling the softness of it cradle her into an early sleep. But she couldn’t sleep now. Vinyl needed help. And, while she couldn’t yet understand how she would help her friend, she would help. That was for sure.

Vinyl began to sob as well. But, instead of breaking into tears, she stopped and hugged Octavia back. The grey mare felt warmth radiating from the embrace, warmth and pain and gratitude. She held Vinyl close and wanted to never let go.

But she did eventually.

Vinyl sighed and wiped her face with a hoof. Octavia repeated the gesture. Vinyl giggled. Octavia giggled back. Then the two mares broke into laughter. Ceasing, Vinyl popped open another beer and took a gulp. She offered Octavia the bottle. The grey mare hesitated for a moment and took the offered drink. That’s indirect kissing! a little pony in Octavia’s head shouted. “Vinyl, I don’t know what to say,” Octavia confessed. She really didn’t. She could never imagine such parents. Sure, she’d heard about more abusive parents, but it was all distant talk. And now that something bad had happened to her friend, she didn’t know what to do or how to react.

“Your hug said more than you ever could.” Vinyl took the beer back and stood up, walking past Octavia and onto the bed. She patted the place next to her. Octavia blushed and slowly came closer. It’s all right. Just two friends sitting on a bed. All alone. It’s all fine.

“Sometimes, Vinyl,” Octavia said, sitting down on the bed next to the white mare, “you are startlingly wise.” I guess she learned a lot from Life. “How are you going to support yourself when the alimony is gone?” she asked the question that, to her, seemed of utmost importance. Vinyl’s feelings and emotional stability were important, but Vinyl being able to afford food - be it crisps and beer - was paramount to Octavia’s own stability.

“Since I’m eighteen and all,” Vinyl replied in a tone that implied her having thought on this already, “I’ll be able to host professional gigs. I’ve already hosted parties - after all, I bought these with my own money.” She motioned towards the turntables and the sound system. “It’s fine, Tavi.” The DJ smiled and wrapped a hoof around her (now blushing) friend. “It feels so good to tell somepony that. Especially if you consider that somepony your true, true friend.”

“I’m always there for you, Vinyl,” Octavia said warmly, placing her head on Vinyl’s shoulder. For a while, the two mares just sat on the bed, sipping on beer, Octavia in Vinyl’s embrace. “So,” Octavia asked finally. “What are we gonna do now?” All alone...On this bed… Oh Celestia.

Octavia flushed furiously as Vinyl leant in and licked her lips. “I think I have an idea...”

***

“Vinyl, this game is stupid.”

Octavia watched, unamused, as Vinyl made weird gestures with her hooves and danced around, swirling in a perverted waltz. “How am I going to get what you are trying to depict?” Vinyl gestured wildly. “Okay, okay, I give up!”

Vinyl stopped and shook her head disapprovingly. “Come on, Tavi. This one was simple.” She tapped her chest. “I was oatmeal!”

“Oatmeal?” Octavia blinked, then took another sip of the beer. “Are you crazy?” She sighed and shook her head. Oh, Vinyl, what a foal you are. But then again, Vinyl’s foalishness was, in some way, a direct result of the adversity she’d had to face. Granted, things could have been worse for her, but… But she deserves for things to be better. Octavia rose from the bed. “I’m really sorry, Vinyl, but…” She looked around, in search of a clock. The tiny apartment gave off a feeling of everlasting night. “But I think I have to go home now. It’s been nice, meeting you at your place.” She smiled and turned towards the exit.

“Could you…” Vinyl’s voice reached Octavia’s ears, making the grey mare turn back towards her friend. “Could you stay with me?” Vinyl pleaded with sad eyes. “I get really lonely and, after telling you all I told you…” She gulped. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” Vinyl smiled slightly. “But I think that, with you, I’ll sleep well tonight.”

Octavia pondered the idea. Granted, common sense told her to make an excuse and go home. But her feelings for Vinyl told her to stay. Her feelings of compassion and friendship, that is. Nothing more. “But where shall I sleep?” Octavia asked finally, looking around the room.

“Oh.” Vinyl blushed, averting her eyes. “I, uh, I can sleep on the floor…”

“No,” Octavia said firmly. “You are not sleeping on the floor.” She took a look at the bed. Oh Celestia I’m really gonna say this aren’t I. Octavia tried to smile her best smile. “The bed is big enough for the two of us.”

***

The bed is not big enough for the two of us. Also, Vinyl snores. She does have a terribly cute snore, though. Like a whistle. Celestia, why am I lying in Vinyl’s bed, at night, her hooves around me, listening to her musical snores? What is wrong with me?

Okay, that’s what friends do. A sleepover. A very awkward sleepover. But I did the right thing. Vinyl needed comforting. And I was there to comfort her. I am still here to comfort her. In her bed. With her hooves all over me. With her hot breath falling onto my muzzle. Oh Celestia.

Okay, I just need to sleep now. Just need to find a comfortable position. ...If I put my hooves around her… Yes, that will do. That feels… right.

Good night, Vinyl.

- Octavia Philarmonica, September 12th

September 13th

Dear Diary,

That was the best sleep I’ve ever had. I woke up… Um, we woke up well past noon. You see, at night, Vinyl started muttering things in her sleep and fell off the bed. Then she began crying. I thought it was because she was hurt, but she said, sniffing, that it was “a bad dream.” Something gives me the impression she didn’t tell me everything. Well, maybe I still have to earn her trust. So we spent much of the night cuddling (yes, Diary, I know this sounds weird but bear with me here) and drinking beer. I really think I need to have a talk with Vinyl about cutting on alcohol. For both her and me.

Anyway, we woke up well past noon, my hooves around Vinyl’s neck. I apologised for making her uncomfortable, but she countered my words by saying it was very comfortable. I went home, and really wanted to take Vinyl with me, but she told me she had to buy the groceries. Which probably entailed beer and crisps. I “accidentally left” fifty bits on the table. I hope she gets the hint.

Of course, Mom was furious when I came home, and I get her: I hadn’t told her I would be staying at Vinyl’s. But when I told her everything, she understood. She said that Vinyl could live with us, and sleep on the sofa in the living room. Considering Vinyl’s nightmares, it would be better if she had somepony to look over her. Okay, generally, considering the state of affairs, she shouldn’t be left alone. I’ll have to talk to her. Celestia, this is gonna be hard.

Anyway, I’ll finish this entry later. I have a lot of homework to do.

***

I have a lot of homework to do.

With this thought, Octavia rose from her bed and packed the diary into one of her saddlebags. The mare sighed and approached her desk wearily. So much work, so little time. She took up her notebook and peered into the lecture. Celestia, my hoofwriting is atrocious. For a few minutes, she stared at the paper. Wait. Tomorrow will actually be my first Monday as a uni student. So I don’t have any homework for Monday yet. She stared at the Introduction to Patents for some time. All right. Might as well do the homework for the whole week…

Octavia’s gaze fell on her instrument, which rested regally in the corner, a slight film of dust coating it. With embarrassment, the cellist realised she hadn’t practiced for almost a week. She walked towards the cello, running her hoof along the neck. Shaking her head, she took a napkin and began cleaning the instrument. In a few minutes, the dust was gone, and Octavia eyed the instrument with pride and love.

She took it up and sat down on the bed. Taking her bow, the young mare closed her eyes and ran her hoof up and down the neck, playing some scales. Content with the sound, the cellist played the first bars of Summertime. She loved classical, but Summertime was her favourite jazz standard, and she was intent on making a cello piece out of it. So far, she had sixteen bars.

“I like Summertime.”

Octavia opened her eyes, only to see Vinyl standing in the doorway, leaning against the open door, levitating a familiar pouch. “You forgot your moneys.”

“Money,” Octavia corrected automatically. “And I left it on purpose.” She eyed Vinyl sternly. “It is so you can buy proper food, and not… what you usually eat.” The cellist was about to put down the cello, but Vinyl motioned for her to stop.

“Sorry, Tavi, I don’t want money to come between you and me.” She placed the pouch on the desk. “How about you take me out to dinner instead? Like, a lot.” Vinyl smiled, and Octavia’s cheeks felt a surge of blood rushing to them.

Octavia wanted to say something, but just stared into Vinyl’s beautiful magenta eyes. “Okay,” she said in a tiny voice. She motioned for Vinyl to sit in the armchair.

Vinyl followed, closing the door behind her, thus creating a closer, more intimate atmosphere. Which was not at all lost on the cellist. “Play something for me?” she suggested, and Octavia smiled. She couldn’t say no to those eyes.

Octavia put down the bow and prepared her hooves. She knew Vinyl loved jazz, so she tried something new. She began with playing intervals, because she hadn’t yet learned how to play full jazz chords on a cello, if that was ever possible. The fat bassline-like line, major and cheerful, grew into development, with a solo in mind. The solo followed the development, swiftly transforming into the theme. Right where the piano was supposed to come in, Octavia began to improvise. It was a simple, in-key improvisation, and one that always returned to the theme, but, for a classical musician, it was rather adventurous. She wanted to show Vinyl her other side. She wanted to show her that she, too, wasn’t always prim and proper. She wanted to show that the two of them were more alike than they’d thought. Back to the theme, and Octavia finished the song with a smile on her lips.

When she opened her eyes, she saw, with some surprise, that Vinyl was up and standing close to her, gazing into her eyes with those beautiful pools of magenta red. “V-Vinyl?” What is she doing?.. She isn’t trying to… is she?

“You are so beautiful when you play,” Vinyl whispered, taking a step forth, blushing, leaning in…

“Miss, your mother is asking whether you and Miss Scratch will be having dinner.”

Octavia yelped and grabbed Vinyl by the neck automatically, falling back, the white pony on top of her, confused and rather… warm. Okay. No brakes on the creepy train. “Jeffrey!” she yelled, still holding a very confused Vinyl close on top of her. “What happened to knocking?!”

“I am sorry, Miss,” Jeffrey replied in a manner that said ‘I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary’. “I did knock, but you and Miss Vinyl were probably so involved in your, ahem, activities, that you didn’t notice.”

“There weren’t any activities!” Octavia retorted, pushing Vinyl off her. She turned towards the bedazzled mare with a smile. “Let’s go have dinner, Vinyl.”

“S-sure, Tavs,” Vinyl replied, trying to sound nonchalant, and followed the grey mare, who, despite looking calm, had only one thought on her mind:

Did she really try to-?

***

“And that’s why I think you should live with us.”

With that, Octavia put down her cup of tea, tossing her best charming and disabling smile at the white mare, who was munching on a biscuit. “What do you think, Vinyl?”

“I think you’re being weird,” Vinyl admitted, finishing off her biscuit and taking another. “I mean, I get that you don’t want me to be alone, what with the nightmares and what-not, but,” she shrugged, “so far I’ve managed to live alone. So I really don’t see the problem here.”

“If you live with us,” Octavia tried, sipping on her tea, “you will be able to have all the biscuits you ever want. And hot, delicious food,” she added. “Every single day.”

Vinyl raised her brow questioningly. “Are you trying to bribe me into living with you?” Octavia opened her mouth to reply but Vinyl stopped her with a grin. “Because it’s working.”

“Will Miss Vinyl be making a habit of visiting young Miss every day?” Jeffrey asked, having materialised from nowhere, as he put the dishes into the sink.

“Miss Scratch,” Octavia replied defiantly, “will be making a habit of living with us from now on.” She gave Vinyl an encouraging smile. “And Mom has already agreed to this.”

“You talked about me living here with your Mom?” Vinyl whispered. “Without talking to me first?”

“In that case,” Jeffrey replied, heading to leave the kitchen and give the two mares their privacy, “congratulations on finding your special somepony, Miss.”

Octavia blushed. “It’s not like that!” she called out to the butler, who had already disappeared. How does he do that? “So, Vinyl.” Octavia smiled again. “Will you live with us?”

“I dunno, Tavi,” Vinyl admitted. “I am pretty used to being independent. Living alone. It’s really hard, changing places like that. Besides,” she took another biscuit, “that would mean I owe something to you and your mom.” She paused. “And probably to your butler.”

“No!” Octavia protested heatedly. “You don’t owe us anything! Please don’t feel burdened by that… I just want you to be mentally healthy and happy.” She smiled. “I want us to be together, always.” In a moment, her face fell as she realised the possible implications. “I-I mean, as friends! As two good friends. Best friends. Friendly friends.” Octavia looked around, laughing artificially. “Wow, is it hot in here?”

“So,” Vinyl said, as if she hadn’t noticed, “what would my duties be if I stay with you?” Octavia winced at the word ‘stay’. Why not ‘live’? “Apart from doing the dishes and having sex with you?”

“Well, Jeffrey does the dishes and-” Octavia’s eyes widened as she looked at Vinyl, who was looking at her innocently. “Vinyl! I would never make you have sex with me!” Besides, I don’t know how it works… “I-I mean, if you don’t consent! I mean, if you agree, it’s-! I mean!” Octavia felt like she was hyperventilating, her head spinning.

“Woah, woah, woah, Tavi!” Vinyl rose from the table and poured the cellist a glass of water. “Calm down, I was joking!” She levitated the glass over to the grey pony, who drank greedily, till she was coughing. “Okay, okay. Look. I’ll stay with you. For today. Tomorrow we’ll see. Okay?” She extended her hoof to Octavia.

“Okay.” Octavia smiled and nodded. Hope tomorrow Vinyl decides to stay. “I’ll tell Jeffrey to make the sofa for you.”

***

Lyra shifted uneasily on the couch, almost pushing Bon-Bon off. “Lyra, sweetie,” the cream-coloured mare remarked. “Be more gentle, okay?”

Lyra grinned and dragged her mare close. “That’s not what you were asking an hour ago.” She kissed her marefriend on the cheek sloppily and yawned, then rolled over. “Wake me up when September ends,” she mumbled.

“Do we have any more carrot juice?” Bon-Bon asked, trying to free herself from the mint mare’s embrace. “I’m thirsty.”

“You’re always thirsty,” Lyra mumbled without turning. “For my-” She was immediately rewarded by the punishing hoof of justice that struck her on the shoulder. “Ouch. Point taken. I think we have some in the-” Suddenly, the mint mare sprung up from the sofa, her eyes wide open.

“Did you have one of your magical premonitions?” Bon-Bon asked calmly, shaking her limbs.

“Not a premonition.” Lyra shook her head, getting up. “Told you, it’s just one more thing that I know. Wanna hear a thing?” The mint unicorn grinned, winking at her mare.

Bon-Bon rolled her eyes. “An omniscient pony, and she decides to waste her talent on sharing gossip with her marefriend.” The mare smiled. “Of course I do.”

“It’s about Vinyl and Octavia.” Lyra wiggled her brow.

Bon-Bon gasped on her way to the kitchen. “My Celestia! Did they- I mean…”

“They made a very important step towards a relationship,” Lyra said, following her mare into the kitchen. “They decided to live together,” she spilled the beans.

Bon-Bon gasped once more. “Already? I thought they only began dating…”

“They aren’t dating yet,” Lyra clarified, opening the fridge and getting a glass of cold carrot juice for Bon-Bon. “They are just living together because Vinyl… well, it’s personal. But soon…” Lyra made a devious grin. “Soon…”

***

Octavia silently descended the stairs and aimed towards the kitchen. She tiptoed around the lamp and ninjaed her way through the living room, stopping for a moment to listen to Vinyl’s musical snores. So cute~ the little pony in Octavia’s head squeed.

The cellist entered the kitchen and finally allowed herself a deep breath. She hadn’t woken up Vinyl. And I have also forgotten to finish my diary entry, she reminded herself. Octavia opened the fridge and fished out a bottle of water. Just as she prepared to open it, she heard loud sobs coming from the living room.

Octavia placed the bottle on the table quickly and ran into the living room. There, on the sofa, Vinyl lay weeping, her head buried in her hooves. “What’s the matter, Vinyl?” Octavia asked, sitting down next to the white mare, hugging her. “Is it… a bad dream?”

“It’s Melody,” Vinyl said and nodded, sobbing. “My little sis.” She sniffed, burying her head in Octavia’s shoulder. She continued in a damp, muffled voice, “She was the wanted foal. Mom and Dad loved her. When the two of us were t-together, Mom and Dad would play with, with b-both of us… We r-realy l-loved-” Vinyl broke into tears again.

Octavia stroked her friend’s back, holding the white pony close. She wanted to tell Vinyl to stop talking and just cry, but then realised that the DJ needed to finally tell somepony… whatever she was trying to tell her. “What happened, Vinyl?” Octavia asked softly, nuzzling Vinyl’s cheek. “You can tell me everything.” Even if I’m sure I don’t want to know the whole truth.

“Mom and Dad took her to a vacation in-in…” Vinyl cried, shaking her head furiously. “They couldn’t know there’d be cliffs down there! She just loved to dive… She loved to dive so much!” Vinyl wept, while a traitorous part of Octavia’s mind wondered whether she would wake up the whole house. The cellist quickly told that part of her mind to shut up. “S-she… W-when they found the b-b-b-body…”

That was it. Vinyl’s sobs grew into hysteria, and she collapsed onto the grey mare, pinning her to the sofa. Octavia felt uncomfortable under the weight, but held still, stroking Vinyl’s back and nuzzling her shoulder. Celestia, that’s horrible. That’s just horrible. She couldn’t think about anything else, and, for a while, she just waited for Vinyl to calm down and stroked and nuzzled.

In a while, Vinyl ceased, relaxing in Octavia’s embrace. “M-mom and Dad pretty much never talked to me after that.” With that, Vinyl exhaled and closed her eyes, her head on Octavia’s chest. Octavia shifted a little, trying to make herself more comfortable, and closed her eyes as well. She waited, and, in a few minutes, Vinyl began to snore.

Octavia sighed very quietly and, pondering, kissed Vinyl on the forehead. “Sleep well, Vinyl. I’m always here for you.” With that, she smiled and went to a short, troubled sleep.

***

I don’t know what else happened to Vinyl, but, from what she has already told me, she has had just enough adversity in her life. I want to be there for her. I want to protect her. I want to see her smile more. I love the way she smiles. I would give up my cello just to see Vinyl happy and well.

I want us to have a life together. That’s not the sort of conclusion to make at five in the morning, but I want us to live together. As… very close friends. Now, I can’t say I’m not attracted to her. I have searched my feelings, and I must admit that I do find her pretty. But I will by no means pursue a relationship with her. If something goes wrong… Besides, I’m not even sure she finds me attractive. Not to mention that I don’t “like” her like Lyra and Bon-Bon “like” each other. I think. I don’t know. Maybe I do. It’s complicated! Still, I want us to be friends, and I want us to live together, and I want to help her any way I can, and I really, really wanna go to sleep.

- a very sleepy Octavia, September 13th

September 18th

Dear Diary,

It’s been almost a week since Vinyl has been living with me. At first she was hesitant, but after I learned the truth about her sister - may Celestia bless her soul - I insisted on Vinyl living in my household. And I can see I did the right thing.

Throughout the week, we’d slept together on the sofa. Mom didn’t say anything, and Jeffrey… Well, it seemed like Jeffrey wanted to say something, but I gave him glares hard enough for him to remain silent. I have come to realise I can no longer sleep without Vinyl in my embrace. I can no longer eat without her at the dinner table. I can no longer do homework without her making her jokes to distract me. I can no longer play cello without her listening quietly in the armchair.

Dear Diary, I think I have fallen in love with Vinyl.

I know these are some serious words to say, but I cannot imagine my life without her. And I think… I just love the way she looks. I love her eyes. I love her mane. I love the way she smiles at me when I blush at her bawdy remarks. I love those bawdy remarks. I want her… to do things to me. I have begun, um, fantasising about her… kissing me. I want to taste her lips.

Celestia, I did not just write that! I must be going crazy! No, no no. This will not do. If we want to keep living together, I need to keep my feelings to myself. Otherwise, it would make things so awkward between us… But what if she likes me too?...

No, no no. I’d better just be glad I have a friend like her. A friend I can always talk to, and eat dinner with, and laugh, and be happy. And cuddle at night. A good friend. Yes…

Though, I have started having suspicions that Vinyl may like me too… For example, when I suggested that she move her things to my house…

***

“Vinyl, don’t you think it’s time to move your things to my house?”

Octavia looked at Vinyl with high expectations in her eyes. Upon coming to a realisation that she might have feelings for the white unicorn, she swore to choose her wording carefully, lest one uneasy word break their friendship altogether. They just needed to stay friends, and live together. But, as of now, Vinyl was just sleeping and eating at Octavia’s place, and the cellist knew that, as a musician, Vinyl missed her sound set and turntables. “The living room is big enough to host your equipment, and, so long as you promise not to make a noise after ten, we’re good.”

“I dunno.” Vinyl chewed on her bottom lip, sending Octavia’s heart aflame. That cute and sexy gesture was not something the grey mare could easily handle. “I mean, that would… that would pretty much mean I’m living with you from now on.”

“Vinyl,” Octavia began pleadingly. “We’ve talked this over. You can’t live alone. You need somepony to look over you.” She smiled. “And that pony is me. Don’t you like living with me, Vinyl?” Octavia gulped as she asked that, her heart beating faster than usual. What if she says no?

“I love living with you, Tavi,” Vinyl dissuaded the cellist’s fears. “I have a nice sofa to sleep on…” She gestured towards the living room. “I have tasty food to eat…” She took another biscuit from the bowl. “I, I listen to your beautiful music…” Vinyl blushed slightly. “And, well, uh, I have you. I like having you by my side.”

Octavia wasn’t sure what to say. On the one hoof, it could mean that… Of course not. It could only mean that Vinyl was happy to have such a friend as her, and that was that. And she should be happy for that. “So, why don’t you always have me by your side? Let’s move your things here,” Octavia urged, using the DJ’s own logic.

Vinyl sighed and tapped her hoof against the table. “All right. But I’ll need something in return.”

“Anything!” Octavia blurted out before warm embarrassment filled her cheeks. I should be more restricted. Limit your exposure, Octavia, dammit!

Vinyl laughed merrily, that wonderful jingle that Octavia had grown to love so much. “Oh, Octavia… It’s just that…” Vinyl’s face suddenly fell serious and she rose from the table. “It’s a very personal request…” Octavia gulped as Vinyl neared her, licking her lips and fluttering her eyelashes slily. “I really hope it won’t come between us and our friendship…” Vinyl swished her tail against Octavia’s flank, making the cellist shiver in fear and expectation. “It’s just that…” Vinyl lowered her head, her lips near Octavia’s ear. Oh Celestia it’s happening, Octavia thought. I’m not sure what exactly, but it’s finally happening… “I need you…” Vinyl’s lips were almost touching Octavia’s ear. Do it already! a little pony in Octavia’s ear screamed. Do what? another little pony replied. Oh great, now I have more than one. “I need you to call the movers.” Vinyl immediately straightened herself and trotted back to her place.

“What.” Octavia blinked, unable to comprehend what had just happened. A moment ago, Vinyl was here, all over her, doing… whatever she was doing, and now she… What the what. The little pony in Octavia’s head blinked cluelessly. “What,” Octavia repeated emotionlessly.

“I need you to call the movers,” Vinyl repeated, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s a common misconception that unicorns can levitate anything. If that were true, there would be no movers necessary. Call the movers to get my things from my place to your place.”

“Vinyl!” Octavia finally understood the game Vinyl had played on her. “You- You were! And the movers!” She took a breath, pointing her hoof at Vinyl accusingly. “I thought you were going to-”

“Going to what?” Vinyl asked innocently, blinking pseudo-obliviously. “Ooh.” She nodded in mock-realisation. “You thought I was going to kiss you, Tavi?” Vinyl fluttered her lashes again as Octavia blushed, averting her gaze. “You’d like that, right?”

“I-I’m gonna g-go tell Jeffrey to get the movers!” Octavia blurted out, rushing out of the kitchen, followed by Vinyl’s laughter.

***

“Phew, what a cold day!”

Octavia laughed at Vinyl’s remark as the two ponies entered Octavia’s house and took off their winter boots. Octavia took off her scarf and took in the smell of freshly-baked biscuits. Vinyl made a mess, trying to get out of her scarf. Octavia laughed and helped the silly mare cope with the piece of clothing.

The two ponies marched into the kitchen, and, true, a bowl of freshly-baked biscuits met them. Vinyl immediately squeed and rushed to grab one. “Ouch!” she complained upon touching one. “It’s hot!”

Octavia smiled and approached the table. There was a note:

Gone shopping with Jeffrey.

Love, Mom

Vinyl eyed the note too and her face broke into a sly grin. “Oooh, Tavi~” she cooed, advancing upon the cellist, who couldn’t quite get a grip on what was happening. “We’re home alone…” She leaned over the grey mare, who began trembling uncontrollably. “And you know what that means?” Vinyl winked.

“N-no.” Octavia shifted, Vinyl’s weight pressing her into the table slightly. Vinyl, what’s going on… Not that I mind but…

“It’s sexy time.” With that, Vinyl pressed her lips against Octavia’s, her tongue swiftly finding its way into the cellist’s mouth. Octavia moaned into the kiss. It was so good that she wanted it to last forever… Alas, everything must cease, and Vinyl broke the kiss, diverting her attention to Octavia’s neck, upon which she planted tiny kisses, while her skilful hooves grabbed Octavia’s flank and touched it the way it wanted to be touched.

“Ooooh, Vinyl~” Octavia moaned, her own hooves grabbing Vinyl’s back and pressing the white pony close. “Yes, take me now, take me hard.”

“Tavi…” Vinyl whispered into her ear. “Tavi, time to wake up.”

Octavia’s eyes shot wide open, as she yelped and rolled over from the sofa. Cluelessly, she blinked and rose her head, only to see a very confused Vinyl standing over her. “Tavi, the movers are here,” the DJ said slowly. “They need directions to my place, and I thought you’d like to come with me…” Vinyl’s face broke into a frown. “Tavi… Why were you moaning, ‘Oh Vinyl’ in your sleep?”

“I-I!” Octavia got up from the floor swiftly. Quick, Octavia, think! “I-I dozed off. And had a dream.” The cellist paused for a moment. “About you giving me a massage. Hence the, uh, moaning.” Please buy it please buy it please buy it…

“All right!” Vinyl’s face brightened and she pranced in place. “I really should give you a massage someday. I’m a good massager.” She tapped her chest proudly.

“Masseuse,” Octavia corrected automatically. And if you give me a massage, I might well have an orgasm. The little pony in the cellist’s head blushed at such insinuations.

“Bless you.” Vinyl looked around the living room and, gradually, her face faded. “Um, Tavi? I wanted to ask you something…”

Octavia looked at the white mare expectantly. Don’t tell me it’s one of your pranks, Vinyl… “Yes, Vinyl?” Seeing the DJ’s predicament, she smiled encouragingly. “Come on, don’t be shy. What’s wrong?”

“You see…” Vinyl began, shifting from hoof to hoof uneasily. “When my sound system and turntables are here, there’ll be really little space left... “ She gulped and stopped. Octavia motioned for her to continue. “Well, and since we both sleep on the sofa, there’s little space too… I mean, what with- ugh!” Vinyl smacked her forehead. “Celestia, this is hard.”

“Try again, Vinyl,” Octavia urged softly.

“Hey, Tavi, the movers are here and-”

“Not like that.” Octavia deadpanned. Oh Celestia, Vinyl, you’re so silly. And yet, it was this silly mare that she liked so mu- that she was happy to have as a friend. As a friendly friend. And nothing more. Not crossing any lines.

“Tavi.” Vinyl paused and took a deep breath. “You think I could sleep in your bedroom?”

Octavia blinked, rendering the plea. “Um. You want to sleep in my bed?” Octavia clarified carefully. The little pony in Octavia’s head began prancing and shouting, Yes! Yes! Yes!

“I just thought…” Vinyl took a hesitant step forth. “Since we sleep together and all…” She smiled uneasily. “And the sofa isn’t too big…” She motioned around with her hoof. “Maybe we could sleep in your bed? I mean, till I, uh, stop having nightmares?” she suggested, closing her eyes in fear.

“Vinyl,” Octavia’s soft, warm voice dissuaded the DJ’s fears. “Of course you can sleep in my bed, with me. Even when you stop having nightmares. I want you by my side. Always.” Octavia smiled as warmly as she could. Which was not hard, considering the emotion that filled her at the mere sight of the beautiful white mare.

“Do you…” Vinyl gulped and averted her eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

“I do, Vinyl.” Octavia smiled warmly at her friend. “I do.” She nodded towards the door. “I’ll be with you in a moment. Let me just write a diary entry.”

***

Content, Octavia held Vinyl in her embrace as the two mares lay on the bed. Sure, the bed was big enough for them to lie separately, but Vinyl didn’t mind cuddling, and, frankly, Octavia could no longer sleep without hugging the white mare. Octavia exhaled contentedly. As meant to be. The only thing to make it better would be-

“Tavi, have you ever kissed a pony before?” Vinyl asked suddenly, making Octavia freeze and wonder whether the mare had read her thoughts. A little pony inside Octavia’s head put on a tinfoil hat. “You know, like, really kissed,” Vinyl elaborated. “Like, with the mouth open and stuff?”

“N-no,” Octavia replied in a stammer, gulping down her fears. Her heart began to race, and she could feel Vinyl’s heartrate speeding up too. What is she driving at?

“Wanna try?” Vinyl suggested innocently, turning in such a manner that brought her muzzle-to-muzzle with the cellist. “I mean, it’s always better to try with a close friend.” Vinyl lowered her eyelids sensually. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while.”

“What? You too?” Octavia blurted out, the blush on her cheeks matching the blush on Vinyl’s. “I mean…”

But Octavia didn’t get to finish the sentence, for Vinyl closed the distance between their muzzles and tossed her lips upon the cellist’s, opening her mouth and prompting Octavia to do so too. Octavia waited for the tongue to enter her mouth, but it never came. Instead, the lips closed and Vinyl sucked on Octavia’s lower lip for a while before breaking the kiss. The cellist had to admit she might have moaned. Twice.

For a while, the two mares lay in silence, Vinyl’s head on Octavia’s chest. Octavia’s brain had blanked, leaving the pony in a state of rapture and bliss. She didn’t want to think why the kiss had taken place; she was just happy that it had taken place. It meant that Vinyl had wanted it just as she had wanted it, and it meant that… Whatever it meant, it was good.

“That was real good,” Vinyl voiced Octavia’s thoughts with a goofy smile. “You, you kiss real good, Tavi. Your lips, um, taste nice.” She nuzzled the grey mare’s chest and sighed in content.

“That’s because I brush my teeth before bed,” Octavia remarked and kissed the pony’s forehead. Then, without thinking, she kissed the tip of the horn - a rather intimate gesture for unicorns.

“Tavi… Are we dating?” Vinyl asked suddenly, making Octavia stop her advances. Oh, how she didn’t want to think in such terms! Why wasn’t it enough for them to sleep together and laugh and kiss and cuddle? “I mean… We live together. We cuddle. We even kissed. And I really, really, really like you. I mean.” Vinyl fell silent and buried her nose into Octavia’s fur.

Octavia sighed, unsure of how to approach the subject. “I like you too, Vinyl… I guess I like you like Lyra and Bon-Bon like each other. But…” The cellist sighed, brushing her lips against Vinyl’s horn. “We’ve only known each other for what? A fortnight? Three weeks? I don’t know if that’s enough…”

“But what’s more time gonna give us?” Vinyl questioned in a muffled tone. She lifted her head and looked into Octavia’s eyes, sending shivers down her spine. “We’ll still cuddle and laugh together, and live together and kiss before bed, and sleep in one bed… And in a month we’ll just ask each other out?” Vinyl shook her head. “I mean, since us dating won’t change anything, why not try it?” The DJ nuzzled Octavia’s cheek. “It’s just… It would be nice knowing… knowing that we’re together. That you are mine. And I am yours. An exclusive relationship.”

So this is what she’s been driving at, Octavia realised with a smile. It was all about commitment. Vinyl wanted it to be official - wanted them to be official - in order to have exclusive rights to Octavia Philarmonica, while she, Octavia Philarmonica, could have exclusive rights to Vinyl Scratch. And that they would never leave each other. “Vinyl Scratch,” Octavia said very seriously. “Will you be my marefriend?”

“Yes,” Vinyl replied in a similar, lugubrious tone. “Octavia Philarmonica. Will you be my marefriend?” She gazed into Octavia’s eyes hopefully.

“Yes.” Octavia nodded solemnly. “Yes, I will.” In a moment, both ponies laughed. “See, Vinyl? Nothing’s changed,” Octavia said, in fact, assuring herself. Then a realisation hit her. “Oh. One thing’s gonna change, though. We’ll have to tell Mom.”

Vinyl waved it off with a smile. “Tavi, your mom is the coolest mom I’ve ever seen. I’m sure she’ll be happy for us.” The white mare sighed dreamily. “We’re finally dating. You know, I’ve liked… I’ve liked you,” she emphasised, “ever since that night at the bar.”

“We’re dating.” Octavia giggled. “That’s a warm thought. Now,” she said as seductively as she could. “How about we get back to kissing, mm?”

Vinyl fluttered her eyelashes. “Oh, I am sure that can be arranged.” She leaned in, then straightened herself.

Octavia frowned. “What’s the matter, Vinyl?”

Vinyl grinned, wrapping her hoof around Octavia’s neck. “No homo, right?”

***

Okay, so this totally happened. Apparently, I’m dating Vinyl. And we kissed. A lot. I am afraid I’ll wake up tomorrow and find out this was all a dream. But now I’m so giddy I can’t even sleep. Vinyl gave me some time-off to finish this entry, and then it’s back to kissing~ So, I think-

Oh, Vinyl’s nibbling on my ear now. Gotta go!

- a very happy Octavia, September 18th

September 19th

Dear Diary,

It was not a dream! We’re really, really, really dating! I woke up to the most wonderful symphony: the symphony of Vinyl’s lips against mine… It’s a divine feeling, something I cannot describe with words. I wish I could kiss her all day long! Well, seeing as it’s Saturday, we do have all day…

Okay, so apparently I’m a filly-fooler. I think Mom will be all right with this, but Jeffrey… Don’t get me wrong, Diary, I love Jeffrey dearly, but he is a very old-fashioned pony. I wonder… Oh Diary, Vinyl is nuzzling me again. Which means it’s time to go down and tell Mom that we’re… oh, I’m so worried.

I wonder what she’ll say…

***

“I wonder what she’ll say.”

Octavia paced around the kitchen worriedly, while Vinyl stood by the table, snatching biscuit after biscuit. “Mom will be back from the store with Jeffrey any moment. I wonder what she’ll say.”

“Tavi, chill.” Vinyl took another biscuit and looked at her anxious marefriend. “Your mom will welcome me with open hooves.” Vinyl pondered for a moment. “Why do we even say ‘open hooves’? It sounds weird. Hooves aren’t usually closed.” Instead of solving this mystery, the DJ consumed the biscuit.

“But what if she’s against this? If she’s against us?” Octavia nearly shrieked, changing her routine into small circles around the white mare. “If she disowns me? And evicts us? We’ll have to live in that hellhole you called home!” She slowed her pace with a wince. “Sorry, Vinyl. No offence.”

“None taken.” Instead of grabbing another biscuit, Vinyl grabbed her marefriend by the waist, drawing her close. “Relax… Tavi, just relax.” She lowered her eyelids, sedating her cellist almost immediately. “Just…” She lowered her head, brushing her lips against Octavia’s neck. “Relax…”

“O-okay…” Octavia sighed, melting in Vinyl’s embrace as the unicorn started pecking her neck up and down slowly. “Oh, Vinyl…” she purred when the DJ decided to kiss her neck sensually. “Yes, you…”

“How is my filly doing?”

Octavia yelped, failing to push Vinyl away as the white mare froze, her mouth pressed into Octavia’s neck, just as Eleanore walked into the kitchen, followed by the emotionless valet with the bags. “Mom, this isn’t what it looks like!”

Eleanore adopted a quizzical expression. “So this doesn’t look like my filly is enjoying some private time with her marefriend?” She motioned for Jeffrey to put the bags and leave.

“Well, no! I mean, yes!” Octavia blushed and finally managed to get the frozen Vinyl off her. “I mean, how do you know?”

“Dear, a mother always knows,” Eleanore replied gently, patting Octavia’s head. “I know when you are sad, and I know when you are happy. And with Vinyl, you are very happy.” She looked at the white mare gratefully. “I am very glad you two have found each other.”

“Thanks, Miss Philarmonica.” Vinyl closed her eyes blissfully. “I knew you’d support us. Also, I am not sleeping with your daughter!” she quickly supplied, opening her eyes. “I mean, we are sleeping together, but-”

“Vinyl,” Eleanore said with a hint of mischief in her eyes. “If you two ever need horn condoms-”

“Mom!” Octavia exclaimed, blushing profusely and grabbing Vinyl by the neck protectively. “We are not, uh, having, you know? We’re just cuddling and kissing and-”

“And I do have horn condoms, Miss Philarmonica, but thanks!” Vinyl interjected cheerfully, grabbing Octavia in turn. “So we’re safe, whatever we do!” With that, Vinyl smooched the cellist on the cheek loudly, eliciting a blush from the aforementioned cellist and an ‘aww’ from her mother.

“Okay, have fun, you two~” Eleanore cooed and left the kitchen, leaving the two mares alone.

Octavia slowly lifted her eyes at her marefriend. “Vinyl, dear?”

“Yes, Tavi?” Vinyl asked innocently. “Oh!” She smiled. “It’s so nice of you to call me ‘dear’, but I feel like there’s a weird tone to that word when you say it…”

“Why would you have horn condoms?” Octavia asked silkily, holding Vinyl maybe a little too tight. The little pony inside Octavia’s head took out a whip. For some reason.

“I-I bought them after, well…” Vinyl gulped, trying to free herself from her marefriend’s grasp. “I bought them after that night out we had. In case we, um. You and I, I mean. Sorry, that was foalish of me to assume that... “

Suddenly, Octavia silenced the silly mare with a passionate kiss. Vinyl was still saying something, but the words turned into an elongated moan as Vinyl sighed into the kiss. Octavia eased her grip, and the white pony relaxed visibly, holding a hoof on the grey mare’s shoulder. Octavia felt Vinyl pushing her slightly, and found herself pressed against the table, much like in her dream yesterday… only reality was a little more uncomfortable.

“Aww, Bonnie, look, they are already making out~”

Octavia shrieked into the kiss and lost balance, falling on the floor (while hitting her back at the table in the process) and dragging Vinyl with her. Vinyl’s lips broke with Octavia’s with a loud pop. “What are you two doing here?!” Octavia shrieked, upon seeing Lyra and Bon-Bon standing in the entrance to the kitchen. “How do you know where I li- ah, right.” She glared sternly at Lyra, who merely shrugged.

“Not my fault you two can’t contain your make-out sessions to the bedroom,” Lyra said amicably. “Oh, biscuits!” The mint mare trotted towards the table, grabbing a biscuit. “I love those!” She immediately started munching on one. “Bonnie, want some?”

Octavia pushed her marefriend off her gently and stood up, brushing off the nonexistent dust. “Lyra, honestly, since you know everything, wouldn’t it have been nice if you had waited till we stopped kissing?” She helped Vinyl up and pecked the still confused white mare on the cheek.

“It could have lasted for hours,” Lyra retorted, offering her marefriend a biscuit from the bowl. “Do you need some pointers?” she asked the two musical mares, who by now were standing on the opposite side of the table.

“No!” Octavia blushed, grabbing Vinyl protectively. “I’m pretty sure we get the concept of kissing, thank you.” She let go of the white mare, who swiftly used this opportunity to get a biscuit for herself. She offered one to Octavia, but the grey mare refused the treat with a shake of her head.

“I mean, some tips for having a relationship,” Lyra clarified, sitting down at the table and patting the chair next to her, which was swiftly occupied by the yet silent Bon-Bon, who had merely waved and ‘hi’d the two mares. “You know, some tips from the seasoned veterans of lesbian dating.” She patted her chest proudly.

Octavia sighed, while Vinyl took a seat and leaned forward, putting her head on her elbows. “Teach me, master,” she said almost breathlessly. Octavia decided to participate in this carnival of stupidity and sat next to her mare.

“First, you two gotta distribute housework between the two of you,” Lyra said while Vinyl pretended to write it down. The know-it-all finished the crispy treat. “Just so you, my young padawans, know equality.”

Vinyl blinked in lack of understanding. “What’s a ‘padawan’?” she whispered to Octavia, who shrugged her shoulders in disregard. “Oh, also, Jeffrey does all the housework anyway. He’s cool that way.”

“Well,” Lyra drawled, grabbing another biscuit. “You should go on dates every week to keep your relationship fresh. Choose new places. Do new things.” She nuzzled Bon-Bon affectionately, who continued:

“Sometimes we go have a picnic. Other times, a restaurant is nice.” The confectioner smiled. “But some coffee together always sounds great.”

“That’s actually pretty good advice,” Octavia remarked. A wave of emotion overwhelmed her and she grabbed Vinyl by the neck, drawing the white pony close. It felt so good, finally being able to snug and nuzzle and kiss Vinyl whenever opportunity presented itself. And even when it didn’t. Octavia nuzzled the mare, kissing her on the side of the mouth. “Who’s my favourite deejay?” she purred, disregarding the guests.

“Oh, I dunno.” Vinyl nuzzled back, a smile on her beautiful face. “I guess Scoltrex is pretty good…” She reached out and nibbled on Octavia’s ear very softly, eliciting a tiny moan from the grey mare. “But this here DJ knows that nopony can compare to the great cellist Octavia Phi-”

Octavia didn’t wait for Vinyl to finish the sentence, instead leaning in for a kiss. For a while, the two mares were locked together in eternal bliss, until they were interrupted by a loud cough from Lyra. Octavia blushed and looked at the unperturbed mint mare and her blushing marefriend. “Sorry. We, um, got carried away.” The cellist nodded and let Vinyl go. “Please proceed.”

“Yeah.” Lyra pushed the biscuit bowl away, letting Octavia take one. She’d grown so used to these biscuits that she often couldn’t understand why ponies found them so special. But, on second thoughts, they were delicious. “Another important thing to consider in your relationship: when you choose your first dildo, it’s essential to-”

“I think we’re good thank you very much Lyra oh it’s getting late k thnx bye!” Vinyl blurted out in one go, snatching Octavia from the chair. “Just look at the time! Me and Tavi just wanted to do the thing at the place!” She nudged Octavia towards the exit, gesticulating wildly to Lyra.

“What.” Octavia refused to go, instead opting to stare at the mint mare. “What’s a ‘dildo’? And why should we have it?” She eyed the three mares very carefully. Vinyl was wide-eyed. Bon-Bon looked embarrassed. Lyra looked… like Lyra. I demand an explanation.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Vinyl promised, all but pushing Lyra out of the kitchen. “And I think Lyra really really has to go, right, Lyra?”

“Eh. Whatever.” Lyra sighed as she stopped in the doorway. “You decided on your projects yet?”

“Our what?” Octavia walked closer to the mint mare, raising her brow. “Is this another one of your I-know-everything things?”

“Nope.” Lyra shook her head. “Don’t you read the announcements by the dean’s office?” Receiving a blank look from both mares, she sighed. “As I thought.” She carried on in an explanatory tone, “Students choose a personal project that involves writing an original composition for their instrument.” She motioned towards Octavia. “Cello.” Then towards Vinyl. “Whatever that is which you play. This could be done as a solo project, in pairs, or in an ensemble.” Getting two very worried looks, she smiled and explained, “Should be done by December. It’s not urgent. But if I were you, I’d get started pretty soon.”

“December?” Octavia rubbed her chin thoughtfully - a gesture she had no doubt picked from Vinyl. “Don’t we have exams in December?” Both exams and a project… Now that would be tiresome. A little pony in Octavia’s head quickly supplied images of her and Vinyl committing to something that could also be tiresome.

“No,” Lyra retorted patiently, “we have those in October.” She looked around the kitchen. “Hey, got any bagels?”

“WHAT?” Octavia and Vinyl exclaimed in unison, immediately glancing at each other in fear.

“Bagels,” Lyra repeated with a pretense of thin patience. “I wonder if-”

“Our exams are in October?!” Octavia practically shrieked, advancing on the mint mare.

Lyra stepped out of the kitchen, backing down. “We have exams in theory in October, the project in December, and practical exams in May.” She looked at the stricken mares. “Seriously, don’t you ever go to the dean’s office?” Octavia blinked. Vinyl looked away as if the question didn’t concern her. “Well, apparently not. All right, we’ll leave you to your hot sexings. Good luck with that. Come on, Bonnie.”

The cream-coloured mare followed her marefriend, smiling sheepishly at the two musical mares, who still couldn’t collect their thoughts. Finally, Octavia spoke:

“Exams in October. Celestia help us.”

Lyra’s face slid through the doorway again. “By the way. Need some horn condoms?”

***

“Vinyl, you’re so warm,” Octavia murmured, wrapped in Vinyl’s gentle, yet amateur. embrace. She shifted a little and curled in Vinyl’s lap. “I want to spend the whole night like this,” she confessed, her head on her marefriend’s knees. “Just cuddling up to you and, and when you kiss me behind my left ear, and when you do that thing with your-”

Vinyl couldn’t bear the cuteness any longer and leaned over, planting a breezy kiss on the mare’s lips. “Tavi, you’re so cute and nerdy and sexy,” she said as she broke the kiss, much to Octavia’s displeasure. “You deserve a reward for being you.” The white mare lightly tapped Octavia’s back. “Come on, Tavi, roll over.”

Octavia’s eyes widened as her mind struggled to come to terms with what was happening. “V-vinyl…” she tried, blushing and looking away. I can’t! I simply can’t! I… “I don’t th-think I’m ready yet…” Oh Celestia I hope she understands! What if… What if she leaves because I’m such a scared little virgin?

“What?” Vinyl blinked, then laughed in realisation. “Celestia! Tavi, I’m not talking about sex!” Octavia relaxed visibly - and felt even more embarrassed at the fact that her mind had quickly supplied that exact topic. “I’ll never do something that you’re not ready for, or something that you don’t want to do.” Vinyl gently pushed her cellist away and laid her on her stomach. “I wanna give you a massage.”

Before Octavia could reply, Vinyl pressed her hooves into her marefriend’s back and began to rub them in firmly. She started off with little spots around Octavia’s neck and shoulders, and then moved on to the shoulders themselves.

“Oooh, Vinyl…” Octavia sighed, relaxing under the skilful hooves of the DJ. “You are so… mmm…” Celestia, she is amazing. I need to take some lessons from her…

Vinyl moved on to the back, running her hooves down Octavia’s spine, and then shifted onto the lower back region, massaging, rubbing, stretching… all the way to...

“V-Vinyl…” Octavia bit her lower lip due to the immense pleasure she was experiencing. “Vinyl, those are my flanks…”

“Yes.” Vinyl carried on without hesitation. “As your marefriend, I get the perk of massaging your gorgeous, sexy flank.” She slapped the cellist’s flank lightly.

“Oh yes…” Octavia moaned in delight. “Yes, carry on…”

Vinyl did carry on with rubbing Octavia’s flank like dough, pressing her hooves into the flesh until the cellist purred with delight. The DJ leaned in and brushed her lips against Octavia’s ear. “Tavi, want me to clop you?”

“W-what?” Octavia’s mind blanked for a moment. “W-what do you mean?” She searched her mind for the word, but could come up with nothing but the sound of hooves clopping against the floor.

“I mean…” Vinyl squeezed Octavia’s flanks with a smile, “Why don’t I clop you? Clop clop clop.” She tapped Octavia’s behind lightly. “Walk your kitty,” she explained to the oblivious mare. “You know, clack your clam? Do the dirty dive?”

“Wait.” The realisation was crawling upon Octavia like a snail. “You mean…” The cellist dropped her voice to a whisper. “You mean you want to masturbate me?” The mare flushed furiously, burying her face in the sheets. “Vinyl! That’s- I told you I’m not ready for sex yet!”

“That’s not sex,” Vinyl countered as she continued her massage, moving back to Octavia’s spine. “That’s just me…” She kissed her cellist’s ear. “Helping you blow off some steam~”

Even though the mere possibility of that sent Octavia to paradise, and despite her inner longing to become intimate with her marefriend, she knew that it was way too early for that; and, besides, Vinyl was not necessarily in the mood for that. There could be insecurities which the DJ countered by offering such intimacy. Hell, she could be just expressing her gratitude! And Octavia wanted their first time to be special. When they both felt it was time. Not like this. “Not like this,” Octavia said aloud with a sigh. “I want our, you know, to be special. So thank you, Vinyl. But… some other time, maybe?”

“Of course, Tavi,” Vinyl assured in a voice that was not hurt at all. “Everything will happen when you want it. The way you want it.” She straightened herself again, running her hooves down Octavia’s back. “So, if you want to spank me with a belt,” she concluded in a carefree voice, “I will be totally for it.”

“Wh-why would I want to spank you with a belt?” As Octavia said it, images of her spanking her marefriend commanded her mind, and they were strangely arousing. Somehow. Celestia, I really have to learn something about sex. Or else Vinyl will see the inexperienced geek that I am.

“Exactly.” Vinyl nodded, seeing the blush on Octavia’s cheeks. “Relax, baby. I’ll wait for you as long as necessary.” With that, she brushed her nose against Octavia’s cutie mark. “Mmm, just relax and let me do the thing.”

***

Okay, Vinyl did the thing. She certainly did. I almost had an orgasm. At least I think I did. I have no idea what orgasms are actually like. To add: if we decide that Vinyl should clop me, that would be my first clop. Imagine that. Still, I liked the massage a lot. It feels like we are growing more intimate. Without being, you know, intimate. But someday we’ll have sex and… that fills me with dread. I have no idea what sex is supposed to be like. And whether it would hurt. And whether… Ah, we have more pressing matters at hoof.

Like that project! And the exams! Should I start revising for them already? But what’s there to revise? We haven’t studied that much… Oh Celestia, what if I fail an exam? What if I fail them all?! They’ll kick me out of uni, and Mom will kick me out of the house, and Vinyl will kick me… Um, she will kick me all right and probably make me like it somehow but that’s not the point! Ugh. All right. Time to go to sleep. And to think I’ll be eighteen in a couple weeks…

a very anxious Octavia, September 19th

***

Octavia woke up to the sound of Vinyl sobbing next to her in bed. Quickly, she shook off the remains of sleep and rolled over to her marefriend. Vinyl lay on the bed curled up in a ball, crying softly into the blanket. Octavia wrapped her hooves around the mare.

“I… *sniff* I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Vinyl trembled as Octavia began to caress her back. “I-I’ll go s-sleep *sob* on the sofa…”

Vinyl made a motion to get up, but Octavia held her close, shaking her head. “Shush, you silly pony. I’m with you. And you’re not going anywhere.” The cellist kissed her DJ on the horn. “Bad dream again?”

Vinyl nodded, as she avoided looking at her mare. “M-melody. Had a d-dream about us c-catching butterflies. It- she was so-!” Vinyl broke into sobs again.

Octavia didn’t know what to say. For the second time, she felt so unable, so useless. All she could do was hold her marefriend close and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. Something told her it was enough. But, while it was enough for now, that didn’t mean it would be enough in the future.

“Tavi, can you sing me a lullaby, please?” Vinyl asked suddenly, having calmed down somewhat.

“Huh?” Octavia kept stroking Vinyl’s back automatically. “A lullaby?” The cellist quickly ran through her mind and found at least fourteen different lullabies from her time in music school. “What lullaby, dear?”

“You called me ‘dear’.” Vinyl smiled through the remaining tears. “That’s… That’s so…” She took a deep breath. “A lullaby from Stalliongrad. My mother used to sing it to Melody…” Her voice trembled slightly, and Octavia squeezed her tighter. “I know you don’t speak the language, but it’s an opera standard so…”

Octavia nodded, realising what lullaby Vinyl meant. “I’ll try. Though my pronunciation won’t be perfect.” Clearing her throat, she relaxed her grip on Vinyl and, with a deep breath, began to sing:

Спи, моя радость, усни~

В доме погасли огни~

Рыбки уснули в пруду~

Птички уснули в саду~

Месяц на небе блестит~

Месяц в окошко глядит~

Глазки скорее сомкни~

Спи, моя радость, усни~

October 6th

Dear Diary,

Sorry I haven’t written in a while, but nothing interesting has happened in the last two weeks. Has it been three weeks? I am too lazy to check my last entry. All I’ve been doing is kissing Vinyl, studying, kissing Vinyl, revising for the exams - which start in two days! - and kissing Vinyl some more. I can’t say we’ve been more intimate than usual, but that may change… because I’m turning eighteen tomorrow!

Can you believe it - I’ve almost forgotten about it! All it took was some studying and a reminder from Vinyl to make me remember… Don’t get me wrong: I like my birthdays. But it’s usually Frederic who nags me about what to give me as a present, and the last time he visited was a week ago… Something is off about him. It’s like he is becoming more distant. He was happy for me when I told him about us, I mean, Vinyl and me, but he seems very… sad? Maybe he just has a lot of work at uni. I can’t imagine how hard a Master’s degree can be…

But we still have to prove we are worthy of having enrolled at our Bachelor programmes. So Vinyl and I have been reading, kissing, revising, kissing, and reading some more. While I’ve been focusing on all exams a little, Vinyl has theory that one should prepare for the ‘nearest’ exam while neglecting all other exams… well, till they become the ‘nearest’.

An interesting conception, to say the least. But I must admit that I am still very selfish, despite my being in a relationship. I think I am still more afraid of failing exams myself than of Vinyl failing her exams... I mean, she seems so prepared - and she knows so much! Can you imagine? Today, she told me about the essence of vinyl records…

***

“So, this is why when we scratch vinyl records, they don’t get any scratches.”

Octavia blinked, eyeing her marefriend curiously from the armchair, where she’d curled up with a book of her own. “Seriously? Seriously, Vinyl. That is what you’re revising for the exam?”

“Hey,” Vinyl countered from the sofa, levitating her own book away. “Your first exam is Music Theory, our first exam is Hardware. A DJ has to know her turntables to be, well, a Bachelor of Turntablism.” Vinyl paused, thinking over her wording. “Or ‘his’. I’m not being sexist here, am I?”

“No,” Octavia assured her, calmly putting the book on the table. “You’re being silly. There’s an ocean of difference between the two. Now, can we go back to revising? The exam is on the eighth, and we’ve only had a week so far to prepare.” A frantic little pony in Octavia’s head was running in circles, shouting, Only a week! If I want an A, I should prepare at least a month in advance!

“Relax, bae,” Vinyl drawled from the sofa, yawning and levitating the book from the floor onto the table. She got up from the sofa with a clear intent to snuggle with her mare.

The mare in question, however, had no desire to snuggle. “What did you just call me?” Octavia got up from the chair and drew close to the unicorn, who began staggering back fearfully. “Did you seriously just call me ‘bae’?” Vinyl nodded with a long, audible gulp. “Call me that one more time-” Octavia stomped her hoof against the floor. “-and they’ll never find your body.” In a moment, the cellist was smiling her broadest, kindest smile. “Got it?”

Vinyl nodded slowly. “Yes, Tavi.” She stood on the tips of her hooves, looming over the earth pony. “Can we make out now?” she asked hopefully, nuzzling Octavia’s nose.

“No.” Octavia booped Vinyl’s nose playfully. “You’ll get to kiss me only after studying for your exam.” She swished her tail against the saddened pony enticingly. “And who knows, maybe I’ll practise my massaging skills on you again?”

Vinyl pondered, rubbing her chin. “Is it going to be ‘with a sad ending’? Like three days ago?”

“What?” Octavia blinked. “What do you mean, with a sad ending? I think I massaged you really well…” The little pony in her head tsked and spoke in a thick Prench accent, Ma chere, you should have uzed ze special technique! Octavia tried to address the pony - What special technique? - but she looked around and ran away. I am weird. I am admittedly weird.

“You fell asleep on my back.” Vinyl deadpanned. “And,” she pointed her hoof at the cellist, “every ending that isn’t sex is a sad ending when it comes down to massage.”

Octavia blushed furiously and looked away. Sure, it’s been a couple weeks since their last talk about sex, but that hadn’t made it easier. In fact, the cellist had been hoping that preparing for the exams would take most of their time, and the dangerous s-word would not appear on the horizon at all. “Vinyl, you know, I’m still, uhm, reluctant.” Casting a glance at her marefriend, she chose to explain, “Re-luc-tant. It means-”

“I know what ‘reluctant’ means.” Vinyl squinted her eyes. “And I’m not pressuring you. You know that I’ll wait till you’re ready, even if it takes months, or years.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Okay, I really hope it won’t take years, but still. Besides, you’ll be eighteen tomorrow so we’ll be able to film it!” Vinyl closed her eyes cutely, beaming a widest smile.

“What.” Octavia took a hesitant step to the side, and Vinyl opened her eyes. “What the what.”

“Well,” Vinyl explained, “seeing as it’s your birthday tomorrow, and you’ll be eighteen, we’ll be able to make some home porn and stuff… You know, get a video-camera-”

“What is a video-camera?” Octavia nearly shrieked. “Vinyl, cameras can only take photos! Do you mean you want to take dirty photos of me?” she asked in a voice both offended and excited. Excited? Brain, pls.

“Yes?” Vinyl gave an awkward smile. “I mean, so I could look at your pictures and clop…”

“Vinyl!” Octavia gasped, taking a step to the other side of the white pony, as if trying to examine her. “Don’t tell me you-” Then again, the little pony in Octavia’s head supplied, she is clopping while thinking of you so it’s fair.

“Every day.” Vinyl nodded resolutely. “When you were taking a bath two days ago? I clopped. When you three left for new saddlebags and left me alone?” Vinyl tapped her chest proudly. “Clopped too. When you woke up at night to get some water and woke me up? Clopped. When we-”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Octavia waved her hooves in the air at what seemed like way too much information. “You, uh.” She blushed a little at what she was about to ask. “Do you… I mean, I know it’s your private business and all, but do you, I mean, while you…” Finally, the cellist sighed and looked away. The little pony in her head sighed and looked away too, offended and hurt. “Never mind.”

Vinyl reached for the mare with her hoof and wrapped her in a soft embrace. “Do I think of you when I do that?” she whispered into Octavia’s ear. “Of course I do. I do it because of you, because of all the tension I have.” She placed her lips against Octavia’s ear, sending a shiver down the cellist’s spine. “I do that because I want to blow off my steam and not force you to do something you wouldn’t want to do, simple as that. I do it because I lll- l- ll- l-like you,” Vinyl finished lamely and put her hoof away.

However, Octavia grabbed the hoof in question boldly and drew it close, drawing with it the white mare, and kissed her as passionately as she could. “I like you too.” She exhaled in content and nuzzled Vinyl’s neck. “Sometimes I feel like I am the older pony, trying to-” Wait. Wait a moment. The little pony in Octavia’s head froze in place. Don’t tell me it’s- “Wait, tomorrow is my birthday!” the cellist exclaimed, letting go of the surprised mare.

“Y-yes?” Vinyl blinked, taking a step back. “I mean, yes, yes it is. Have you forgotten about it?”

“Yes, I kinda did,” Octavia admitted, a little ashamed. “Though, you have to admit, we’ll have to postpone the celebration, what with the exams and what-not…”

“No way!” Vinyl protested, advancing on the grey mare. From a spectator's perspective, it would seem as if the two ponies were performing a very slow, step-by-step dance. “It is the first birthday of yours that I get to spend with you, as your marefriend…” Vinyl pecked Octavia on the lips lightly. “And I will make sure you’ll enjoy every minute of it.” She winked at her cellist in an exaggerated gesture.

“What are you planning, Vinyl?” Octavia wondered cautiously. “Is it… sex?”

Vinyl looked at her marefriend with a long, disapproving look. “Tavi, you really have to get your mind out of the gutter. What I’m planning isn’t sex, but is admittedly as good as sex. Without actually, you know, being sex,” she quickly supplied.

Octavia looked around. “Something tells me we are not going back to studying this evening.” The pony’s stomach rumbled a little, prompting a blush from the cellist and a laugh from Vinyl. “I wonder when Mom and Jeffrey will be back. I’m starving.”

“I’m starving too,” Vinyl swiftly agreed, licking her lips. “Starving for a good make-out session, that is.” She quickly put off her glasses in a swift motion. “Aww yeah!”

Octavia blinked in oblivion. The little pony in her head wandered off to get a stick to beat Vinyl with. “Vinyl. First, that wasn’t even a pun. Second, you’re wearing spectacles, not shades. It doesn’t work that way!”

“You know what works that way?” Vinyl wiggled her brow suggestively, obviously far from giving up. “A long, proper make-out session. Like, not those brief kisses we’ve been having for the last few days, but a real, long, twelve-round tongue-wrestling match.”

Octavia felt her heart beating a little faster in her chest. “T-twelve r-round? As in-”

Vinyl didn’t wait for her marefriend to shut up on her own, and, instead, decided to help her by pressing her lips against Octavia’s, feeling her tongue finally slide in its rightful place. The place it had, apparently, conquered, Octavia thought as she closed her eyes in bliss. Celestia, I have some weird thoughts.

“You two are staggeringly cute.”

Octavia backed down with a yelp, her lips detaching from Vinyl’s with a loud pop. She immediately looked to her right, where she saw Frederic Horseshopin, the source of the voice. “Hi, Frederic,” the cellist greeted the guest, a little surprised at his sudden appearance. Then again, she thought, we don’t exactly lock the front door during the day so it’s our fault as well. “Didn’t expect to see you today. Have you forgotten the date?” she jested half-heartedly, remembering that she herself had forgotten the date too. “My birthday is tomorrow, not today.”

“Oh, I do remember,” Frederic laughed, drawing closer as Octavia approached him for a hug. “I’m here today…” He ruffled Octavia’s hair a little - a gesture she dismissed with a huff, tossing her mane proudly. “On a behalf of a certain mare, for whom I am acting as a courier.” With that, the stallion took out of his saddlebag a parcel wrapped in light-brown paper. “Here you are, Vinyl. You’ll find it inside.”

Vinyl nodded, accepting the package, while Octavia just blinked obliviously. “Will it fit?” the unicorn asked in a hushed tone, which, to Octavia, seemed a little silly, since Vinyl was standing just a step away from her.

“Oh yes,” Frederic replied in the same tone and smiled. “I am sure you will surprise your marefriend.” Stop talking about me as if I wasn’t here! the little pony in Octavia’s head screamed, waving her hooves around. “See you tomorrow at the restaurant, Octavia.”

Octavia nodded dumbly, her eyes shifting between Frederic, who took his leave quickly, and her marefriend, who, humming a peaceful tune, tucked the parcel away. “Restaurant?” Octavia wondered, eyeing her DJ with suspicion. “Why would-”

“Because I took the liberty of booking a table at The Gourmet, sweetie,” Eleanore cooed as she entered the room with Jeffery passing her on his way to the kitchen, carrying two very big-sized bags. “A table for five, at seven, tomorrow.” She reached for her daughter and kissed her on the forehead. “Ah, my filly is turning eighteen tomorrow! What a day, what a lovely day!”

“Mooom…” Octavia drawled, still blushing at the show of affection in front of her marefriend, who just d’awwed cutely. “Wait. For five? Ah yes,” she nodded, “You, me, Jeffrey, Frederic, and Vinyl.”

“No, dear,” Eleanore laughed, tapping her hoof against Octavia’s forehead. “Did you forget your friends Lyra and Bon-Bon?”

“But…” The gears in Octavia’s head began to roll slowly. “That would make it a table for seven… wouldn’t it?”

“Octavia,” Eleanore addressed her daughter softly, but seriously. “You know that Jeffrey and I will always be there for you. But turning eighteen is more than just another birthday. It is about becoming an adult. Which is why Jeffrey and I think you should spend it in the company of your friends.”

“But…” Octavia extended her hoof weakly. “I’ve always celebrated birthdays with you and Jeffrey, as long as I can remember…”

“We will be right here when you return from the restaurant,” Eleanore assured her filly. “I just want you to feel a little more freedom. When I turned eighteen, your grandfather personally checked every guest I’d invited to my birthday party to see whether they were suitable company. While I appreciate the care, I would like to bring you up in a more… liberal way.”

Octavia nodded. “I understand.” Once again, her stomach grumbled.

Eleanore laughed. “Dinner will be ready soon.” She kissed her little filly on the cheek lovingly. “Don’t worry, dear, I am positively sure your birthday will be… how do you teenagers say it? Awesome?”

“We don’t say it,” Octavia muttered under her breath as her mother left for the kitchen. “At least, ponies with some degree of class don’t.”

“Your mom is awesome,” Vinyl swiftly interjected. “Do you think she could adopt me?” Before Octavia could open her mouth to speak, the DJ carried on, “No, that would make us sisters, right? And that would make things… complicated.”

The little pony in Octavia’s head mouthed, Incest is wincest. Octavia suddenly felt a wild desire to hit that little pony. With a stick. “What’s in the parcel?” she deviated, hoping Vinyl’s ideas didn’t include a sister-sister roleplay. You don’t even know how roleplay works… the little pony whispered, after which she swiftly withdrew from Octavia’s head, lest she be hit on the head. “Is it a present for me?”

“Yes and no,” the DJ evaded the question skilfully. “Don’t worry,” she assured, “it’s not Fallout. I know you don’t have a gaming PC.”

“Fallout from what?” Octavia blinked, astounded. The little pony in her head reached for a dictionary. “What’s a PC?” This isn’t the first time Vinyl’s been mentioning weird things that don’t exist…

“Never mind,” Vinyl quickly amended herself, “I just mean that you’ll definitely like it. Now, what about that dinner?”

***

The dinner was fantastic, as usual. The follow-up was even more fantastic, with Vinyl grabbing me in her telekinetic net and carrying me over to the bedroom. I may have shrieked.

Okay. A couple hours later, and I am eighteen. I cannot say I am entirely pleased with this. Of course, being an adult must be amazing (judging by how amazing Vinyl the Adult is), but I am afraid of adult responsibilities. I am also afraid of… discussing “the issue” with Vinyl. Eighteen or not, I absolutely cannot bring myself to the talk about… sex.

Not because I am a scared little virgin! (Though, I am a scared little virgin.) But because I am afraid my performance won’t be… exemplary. I am afraid I won’t be able to satisfy Vinyl, and she’ll leave me for somepony who can. It is a dark, but lingering thought.

Sigh. (I did not just record my sigh in the diary, did I.) One way or another, tomorrow will be the day. Now, to get some sleep…

an almost adult Octavia, October 6th

October 7th

Dear Diary,

I’m eighteen, I’m eighteen, I’m eighteen! Look at me, I am a grown adult mare now! I can go and buy beer and tobacco and go buy adult magazines and vote! Though, to think about it, I could buy beer anyway, and I don’t smoke, and there’s no way in hell I’m buying an adult magazine, and we don’t really have elections all that often…

Anyway! Still. I am eighteen! This is a beautiful morning, and - allow me to be selfish today, it’s my day after all - I cannot wait to see all the presents and especially what Vinyl has prepared for me!

Now that sounded more like a foal than a mature adult mare, but I don’t care. You want to know why?

Because I am eighteen! Woo-hoo!

***

“I am eighteen!” Octavia yelled, jumping onto her bed and springing up and down. “I am an adult!” She pointed her hoof at the far wall. “Hear ye, hear ye, Octavia Philarmonica is a grown mare!”

In a few minutes, growing both tired and embarrassed of her show of emotion, she quickly looked over the room and stormed outside, descending the steps quickly enough to stumble a couple times.

However, this did not hinder her enthusiasm, as she stormed into the living room. “Mom! Jeffrey! Vinyl!” she called out, making sure the whole house would hear her. And probably the neighbours, a very sleepy pony inside Octavia’s head muttered before covering her ear with a pillow. “I’m eighteen! I’m mature, and adult, and-”

And Vinyl left the kitchen and walked up to her. Octavia blinked. Then she blinked again. Her mouth fell slightly open as she tried to form some coherent thought. Indeed, it was her marefriend leaving the kitchen. Only it was her marefriend is a (quite revealing) black-and-white maid outfit, an outfit, Octavia noted with warmness in certain parts of her body, that accentuated the open flank perfectly while still being right enough to show the muscles on Vinyl’s forelegs. “V-vinyl?”

“Oh!” Vinyl blinked, levitating the glass of orange juice away. “Good morning, Mistress! How was your night?” The pony trotted towards Octavia, fluttering her eyelashes in what seemed to Octavia a seductive manner. “I have made you orange juice, Mistress!” With that, Vinyl offered her marefriend a glass of juice.

“V-Vinyl?” Octavia took a hesitant sip from the glass, trying to understand what was going on. “W-what are you doing in, um, such an outfit?” She backed down a little as Vinyl advanced on her.

“Oh, just, you know…” Vinyl licked her lips, for some reason. “Serving my Mistress? I’m a good maid, I am!” Vinyl fluttered her eyelashes again - a strange gesture that make Octavia feel all strange and weird and warm in some places that better not be mentioned aloud. “Have I served you well, Mistress? It’s a glass of special birthday orange juice!”

That’s… just juice. Octavia took another sip. Nope, does not contain alcohol. “Um, thank you?” The cellist blinked again at the weirdness of the situation. “Thank you, Vinyl, the juice is delicious.”

Vinyl gave her marefriend a big grin. “Oh, I’m so happy Mistress likes her treat! It would be rather unfortunate if Mistress had to…” Vinyl wiggled her flank, making Octavia blush comfortably. “Spank me…” Vinyl wiggled her flank some more, making Octavia even warmer in unspeakable places.

“W-why would I…” Octavia gulped, her eyes locked on her marefriend’s sexy rump. “Why would I spank you?..” She stared at the big, round, inviting plot before her. “S-such… I mean…” Following some higher bidding, Octavia took a step forth and grabbed the flank in her front hooves, massaging it, rubbing it, enjoying herself immensely. Dear Celestia, what is wrong with me?..

“M-mistress?” Vinyl half-asked, half-moaned as she froze in place, enjoying Octavia’s attention. “Yes, Mistress, please…”

“Miss, I’ve just been to the grocery store and-”

Jeffrey froze in place, his eyes drawn to the spectacle before him. Octavia froze as well, her hooves still on Vinyl’s flank. Vinyl the maid froze even stiffer, her eyes on the butler. Finally, Jeffrey took a step back, then another one, then disappeared out of the room altogether, all without breaking eye contact.

For a while, the two ponies just stood there, Octavia’s hooves on Vinyl’s flank. “You know,” Vinyl said finally, “I think it would be better if we tabled this dress for… later.” She winked at the confused cellist. “You know, for sexy times.”

“Why would we dress up for, um, sexy times?” Octavia wondered aloud, her mind conjuring different possibilities. “I mean, wouldn’t we have to be, uhm, naked? I mean, to, um. You know.”

“Oh, Tavi~” Vinyl cooed, rubbing her flank against her marefriend’s. “You are soooo innocent~ In fact…” She nibbled on Octavia’s ear, making the grey mare exhale in bliss. “You are so innocent that it turns me on…”

“V-Vinyl?” Octavia stammered, feeling her marefriend’s hot flank rubbing against hers. “I mean… I…”

“Okay,” Vinyl concluded, taking a step away. “Too cute and too sexy. I need to take a shower. Now.” She began undressing - which, for some reason, made the warm places at Octavia’s body even warmer. “Time for a good old steamy clop session in the shower!” Vinyl grinned widely.

“W-wha…” Octavia was still stiff, frozen in place as she watched her DJ march, naked, in the direction of the shower. “But I…”

“Oh?” Vinyl smiled at her mare, booping her nose. “Wanna join in?”

Octavia felt her breath caught in her throat. “I…” No! a little angel on Octavia’s shoulder said resolutely. Yes, of course! a little devil on the other shoulder claimed. “I’ll wash your back if you don’t clop while I do it,” the cellist offered with a degree of finality. “How does that sound?” She smiled at the DJ.

The DJ smiled back. “That sounds awesome.”

***

“I demand more whisky!” Octavia slammed her hoof at the table very lightly, in a motion that bore completely no sound, and hiccuped. The pony looked around sternly, her gaze lingering for a second on Vinyl’s smiling face, Frederic’s withdrawn face, Lyra’s grinning face and Bon-Bon’s concerned face.

“Tavi, don’t you think you shouldn’t get wasted at your own birthday?” Vinyl suggested carefully, pushing away her plate that looked like it had just been licked clean. Mostly because it had just been licked clean.

“Your mistress demands more whisky!” Octavia glared at the white unicorn sternly, motioning for the waiter. “Please repeat that.” She tapped at her glass.

“Mistress?” Bon-Bon blinked obliviously.

Lyra wrapped her hoof around her marefriend. “I’ll tell you later. It may or may not have something to do with role-play.” Turning to Octavia, “You do know that you technically turn eighteen the day after your birthday, right?”

“This witch shall be silenced!” Octavia exclaimed, pointing an accusing hoof at the mint mare. “She who speaketh against the Queen, speaketh against…” Octavia fell silent. “The Queen!” she proclaimed finally. “And everypony knows that nopony speaketh against the Queen.”

Octavia glared in turn at every pony, making Bon-Bon shiver under the gaze, Lyra shrug, and Vinyl throw her hoof in the air. “No!” she shouted. “We will overcome this tyranny!” Swiftly, she leant in and kissed Octavia on the lips, leaving “The Queen” silenced and, frankly, rather goofy. “Democracy for all! With hayburgers! And eagles! And freedom!”

“What do eagles have to do with democracy?” Bon-Bon whispered to her marefriend.

Lyra shrugged. “It was expected.”

Meanwhile, Octavia had managed to come to her senses, and glared at her marefriend with newfound malice. Made-up malice, a lawyer pony in her head amended. You see, Your Honour, nothing to worry about. “Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!”

“Oh!” Lyra’s ears perked up. “I know that line! It’s from-”

“It would take a saint not to betray you, Octavia Philarmonica.”

Quickly, all gazes were drawn to the mare who had approached the table, a very familiar mare, a blue earth pony with a neat brown mane. “Beauty Brass,” Octavia hissed with quite real malice.

“Behaving like this in such an establishment?” Beauty tsked audibly. “I knew that you were devoid of manners, but to such an extent?”

Seeing where this was going, Vinyl reached out and grabbed Octavia before the grey mare could reach for the knife and stab the blue pony to death. And then I’d have to commit a crime too to get in the same cell so that we can have sex with each other, and not with some dirty inmates… “Octavia, please. She’s not worth it.”

“Beauty, what have gotten into you?” Frederic finally spoke up sternly, watching as the mare had just noticed that it was him, and how the pure evil on her muzzle changed into an expression of confusion and misunderstanding. “Octavia is my very best friend. What has happened between you two?”

“Don’t talk to her!” Octavia demanded, glaring daggers at Frederic. “She is a witch, and she shall be burned!” Then, a realisation hit her like a truck. What’s a truck? a little pony in Octavia’s head wondered. “Wait. How do you know-”

“I’m sorry, Freddie,” Beauty chimed in with what seemed like remorse on her face. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.” Then, she did something that made Octavia freeze in place, opening her mouth and closing it like a fish out of water: she came up to Frederic and kissed him straight on the lips.

“What is going on here?” Vinyl demanded, her eyes shifting from Octavia to Beauty to Frederic to Octavia again. “Can somepony explain?”

“I would,” Lyra chimed in, “but that would break the suspense.” She wrapped her hoof around Bon-Bon. “Everypony likes suspense, right? Though,” she rubbed her chin, “that kiss kinda made this obvious. If I were making the scene, I’d hold the kiss at bay for a while. You know, like in those movies when-”

“What. What is going on?!” Octavia slammed her hoof against the table, for real this time, shooing away the waiter who had come up with her whisky. “Frederic, explain!” Don’t you get it? the little pony in Octavia’s head whispered. They are-

“Beauty, this is my best friend, Octavia.” Frederic pointed at the grey mare with a sign. “Octavia, this is my marefriend, Beauty Brass.”

The silence fell over the table. Octavia was staring at Frederic, Frederic was looking at Beauty, Beauty was glaring at Vinyl, and Vinyl was looking at Octavia. In this silence, the waiter tried to approach the table again. “Your whisky, ma’am.”

The sound of the glass clicking against the table had never been louder.

***

“I don’t understand!”

Octavia rolled over with a groan, facing away from Vinyl. “I don’t understand how Frederic, my Frederic, can be dating- her!” The cellist grabbed a pillow and tossed it against the wall.

“Tavi, please calm down,” Vinyl tried to soothe her marefriend by putting a hoof on her back. Octavia shrugged the hoof away. “I’m sure Freddie will see how evil that, erm, witch, is - and he’ll dump her.”

“He won’t dump her,” Octavia explained with a sigh. “He is too much of a gentlecolt to do that. No, we need to make an evil plan to break off their relationship!” Octavia’s eyes shone with mad ideas as she quickly rolled over to look into Vinyl’s eyes. “We’ll take up Lyra and Bon-Bon and we’ll-”

“Tavi…” Vinyl drawled cautiously. “You look very very mad right now. Which is bad, because it’s still your birthday.” She pressed her hooves into Octavia’s back. “You know I care for you so much because I lo- like you.” The DJ blushed and looked aside for a moment. “So it really makes me sad that you are so obsessed with this Beauty Brass.”

“I’m not obsessed!” the cellist countered, laying her head in Vinyl’s lap, waiting for the unicorn to start brushing her hair. “I’m just… Frederic is my best friend, has always been. He’s like an older brother to me. Wouldn’t you be mad if your sibling-” Octavia stopped in horror upon realising what she had almost said. The brushing stopped for a moment, then continued. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, Tavi,” Vinyl replied in a distant voice. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Can I…” Octavia gulped. Oh boy, here comes! the pony in her head exclaimed. “Can I make it up to you somehow?” She tried to keep her voice seductive, but she couldn’t get rid of the trembling. I am not suggesting that… I am not ready!

“Tavi,” Vinyl said lowly, her hooves still in Octavia’s mane. “You… You do realise what what you said means?”

Octavia gulped once again, but looked into Vinyl’s eyes with sudden determination. “Yes, Vinyl. Yes I do. And I think…” She looked away shamefully. “I think I am ready. I am not sure. But if we don’t try…” Again, determination shone in her voice. “If we don’t try this, I will never be ready. Just…” she suggested in a tiny voice. “Just be gentle with me?”

For a few moments, Vinyl stared at her marefriend, trying to come to terms with what had just been said. Then, she sighed and smiled softly at the grey mare. “No, Tavi.” Seeing Octavia’s horror, Vinyl rectified, “I mean, I will be gentle. But not today. Besides, now that you are eighteen, we have nowhere to hurry. I can legally have sex with you at, like, any time.”

“Vinyl,” Octavia smiled broadly, “you do realise that the age of consent in Equestria is sixteen, right?”

“What?” The gears in Vinyl’s head turned and turned and turned and then tumbled down. “But I… You mean, all this time…” Vinyl took a deep breath and smiled back. “Then again, it wasn’t the law that was holding me from having sex with you. I want our first time to be super-special.” She puffed her chest out a little. “And I will make it super-special! But we still have an exam tomorrow so we’d better get some sleep.”

Octavia sighed and finally relaxed. “Let’s do just that.”

***

Exam exam exam exam exam no worries just an exam I will pass it with an A how can it be otherwise I mean I am such a smart mare and smart mares go to sleep at three in the morning and not write hectically and sleepily in their diary and I really should get some sleep now but if I have to wake up in three hours anyway what’s the point I mean I am not that sleepy anyway and not worried definitely not worr~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oct~~

October 8th

Dear Diary,

Exam exam exam! We’re having an exam today! Sure, I didn’t get any sleep, but then again, I hear that it is optional to sleep before an exam. I hope it won’t affect my grade! Oh, what if it affects my grade?! I know it’s just five a.m., but I think it’s time to wake Vinyl…

Oh, what if I fail? What if I get a B? Mom will disown me, and Jeffrey won’t talk to me, and Vinyl will dump me for somepony smart! Celestia, I’m on the verge of crying… No, I have to pass this exam, and I need to do so with distinction. I really hope it’s not one of those check-on-the-spot exams…

***

“It’s a check-on-the-spot exam, so our results will be announced today,” Lyra explained, her hoof wrapped around a very trembling and nervous Bon-Bon.

“Whaaaaa-”

Before Octavia could yell and get them kicked out before the exam even started, Vinyl quickly pressed her hoof against the cellist’s mouth. Then, remembering how Octavia had woken her up with a kiss this morning, opted for pressing her lips against Octavia’s instead. It wasn’t exactly a kiss, but it did pacify Octavia enough for her to stop worrying.

“Eww,” Beauty gagged on thin air, marching past the four ponies into the classroom. “Plebeian ponies who can’t keep their kisses to themselves.”

“Can I murder her?” Vinyl asked, turning to Octavia with pleading eyes. “I know she’s Frederic’s marefriend now, but I really really wanna murder her. Can I, please?”

“No.” Octavia shook her head, her worries evaporating slowly. “Frederic would be really sad if that happened. But I share your sentiment.” She took a deep breath, looking at the open door. The whole group was already inside, preparing their pens and paper. “Well, at least we’ll be together.” The cellist smiled at her marefriend warmly.

“Um… Tavi?” Vinyl offered meekly, stepping aside and pointing to the adjacent classroom. “We are at different faculties, remember? We’re having different exams today.”

Octavia froze in place, the realisation slowly dawning upon her. She stepped back, then took another step, and was just about to gallop off when Lyra caught her. “Let me go!” Octavia shrieked. “I can’t do this alone!”

“Alone?” Bon-Bon said finally, a little more confident, at least compared to the cellist’s tantrum. “So Lyra and I don’t count as your friends anymore?” she said in a somewhat offended voice.

“No, what I meant is…” Octavia sighed and, to her surprise, hugged Bon-Bon tight. “You are the best friends I could ever ask for. But doing this whole thing without Vinyl…” She looked at her marefriend. “It’s so… hard.”

“Not as hard as the sex you two will be having,” Lyra comforted the grey mare just as the assistant professor entered the classroom. “Come on, let’s nail this Music Theory.” Before Octavia could say anything, Lyra pushed her into the class, winking at Vinyl. “Morituri te salutant.”

Vinyl stood there for a while, trying to collect her thoughts, then stepped into her own classroom with a deep, heavy sigh.

***

“Octavia Philarmonica,” the merciless voice of the assistant professor proclaimed. Octavia began shivering uncontrollably, but still found enough clarity in her mind to try and glance through the paper. Unfortunately, the mark wasn’t quite visible. “Ninety-five percent. An A-plus.”

Octavia just stared at the stallion for some time until the information had sunk in. “Yess!” She threw her hoof in the air, hugging Lyra tight. “That’s how we do it in the Classical Faculty!” She laughed and smiled and wanted to kiss Vinyl very much, but Vinyl just waved at her from her own group of classmates, standing next to the adjacent classroom, waiting for their AP to come out and voice their results.

And the AP didn’t make them wait. Octavia would expect him to be a wild, piercing-sporting deejay. Instead, a neat (and rather pretty) young mare left the room. “Hear ye, hear ye!” she announced loudly, showing her tongue to the Classical Faculty AP. “I’m not some old-fashioned pompous saddlewiener, so come in and see your results for yourself.”

The ‘saddlewiener’ gritted his teeth as the EDM students poured into the classroom. “Beauty Brass!” he announced, taking the next paper. “Ninety-three percent. An A.” He almost took another paper when a loud “What?!” interrupted him.

“What?!” Beauty repeating, glaring daggers at the stallion. “How come Philarmonica gets an A-plus, and I get an A?”

“The system of gradation,” the AP explained calmly, “is no secret. Ninety up to ninety-four percent is an A. Ninety-five percent and up is an A-plus.”

Beauty gritted her teeth, but, instead of saying anything, stormed off in the direction of the bathroom. “Do we run after her? I think she might be crying there,” Bon-Bon offered, but Lyra’s hoof prevented her from moving.

“Nu-uh, Bonnie.” Lyra shook her head. “We’re just, like, forty thousand words in. It would be anticlimatic if we make friends with her now.”

“Wha-” Bon-Bon began, but the AP has already announced:

“Bonnibel Bonaparte. Seventy-five. A C.”

Bon-Bon smiled. “Well, that went better than expected.” She blew a kiss to her marefriend, who just smiled knowingly.

Octavia blinked. “Your full name is-”

But, before she could continue, she was swept off her hooves by a white-and-blue blur of a pony that threw itself at her and pinned her to the floor. “I got a B! I got a B! I got a B!” she chanted, showering Octavia with little pecks all over the face.

“Kissing is prohibited on university premises,” the Classical Faculty AP (whom Octavia had begun to call ‘saddlewiener’ in her mind) tried, but the AP mare from the EDM faculty approached him and gave him a big sloppy kiss, breaking the aforementioned rule. Whispering something in his ear, she flicked her tail against his flank and disappeared.

It took the blushing stallion a few moments to gather his composure. “Ahem. Lyra Heartstrings…” He paused, giving the mint mare a hard glare. “Do I even have to read out your result?”

“A-plus, ninety-nine percent,” Lyra said in a bored tone. “Because it is a university rule not to give anyone one hundred percent for a written work. Thanks.” She shrugged, rubbing her cheek against Bon-Bon’s. Then she took a piece of paper and wrote an address on it, handing it to Vinyl, who had finally gotten off Octavia. “Party at my place? Since the next exam is in two days and we can-” Suddenly, Lyra froze and glared at the AP, pointing an accusing hoof at him. “Why didn’t you think of this sooner? We would’ve had time to prepare!”

Octavia and Vinyl exchanged worried glances. Bon-Bon just sighed, clearly used to her marefriend’s magical premonitions.

The AP grunted something very similar to ‘government facility’ and ‘ship the weird unicorn’, then sighed and announced: “As Miss Heartstrings has already… sensed, the exam on Dissonance Theory for the Classical faculty students will be held tomorrow, instead of the tenth of October.”

“What?!” Bon-Bon and Octavia exclaimed in unison.

The AP mare, who had just walked out of the classroom, announced proudly: “Oh yes, and for all fellow Turntablists, your exam in Audience Interaction is tomorrow. And it’s an oral exam so go talk to some mirrors.” She winked and approached the male AP, standing just a little away from him to both keep distance and still make him uncomfortable.

“What?!” Vinyl exclaimed in turn, looking at the older mare in disbelief. “Two exams in succession? Is that even legal?”

Lyra sighed and rubbed her nose. “Guess the party will have to wait…”

***

Octavia tried, vainly, to concentrate on the books, finally giving up and placing her head in Vinyl’s lap. “I give up. Dissonance Theory is way too weird to comprehend.” Irritated, the mare slammed the book shut and rubbed her temples. "I'll never pass that exam. Who even makes the damn curriculum? Dissonance Theory in the first semester?" She glared at the book. “Really?”

Gently, the unicorn used her magic to soothe the exhausted cellist’s skin, a tiny gust of breeze waving at her like a propeller. Idly, she toyed with her marefriend’s gorgeous mane. “Let’s have a break, Tavi.” Vinyl smiled. “Go to the kitchen and ask your mom or Jeffrey for some biscuits?” Mmm. Biscuits.

Octavia sighed, forcing shapes from beneath her eyelids. “They left for groceries a couple hours ago. To another town. I don’t even know why.”

Slyly, Vinyl’s face lit up with a grin. Oh. Oooooh. “Tavi,” she said slowly, ideas commanding her mind. “Do you why they did that?”

Octavia opened her eyes with a rusty blink and yawned. “Why?” she wondered dumbly.

Vinyl lifted her hoof. “Because they both think we are not studying right now.” She lowered her hoof grandly. “They both think we are having sex,” the mare whispered in a conspirational manner. “The well-deserved, after-the-exam, before-an-exam, wild, youthful rut.”

Octavia gasped and lit up with a thick blush. “Vinyl! Mind your tongue!” Oh Celestia. Get that image out of my head! Or, rather… Ugh. “They would never think so low of me!”

“Huh?” Vinyl stopped rubbing Octavia’s scalp abruptly. “What’s wrong with having a rut with me?” she let out in a hurt tone.

Octavia opened her mouth and sat up, contemplating what to say. “Vinyl, we’re… not really… that is…” She closed her mouth and gave her brain some more time for contemplation. “Okay. You know what I’ve always thought? You can’t have sex until marriage,” she said finally. “That’s what I was taught. You find the right colt, then you date him, then you get married and kiss and then you have sex. To make a foal.” She blushed a little, having reiterated the lesson perfectly. “When you showed up at the horizon, everything changed.” When the Vinyl nation attacked, a little pony in her head continued. What.

Vinyl chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “But you are dating a mare. Not a stallion.” She lowered her eyelids sensually. “So… since sex is not about making foals or marriage…” The unicorn crawled on the bed towards the gradually reddening cellist. “Maybe your mom and Jeffrey were right, and we should just…”

Octavia’s back hit the wall as she cursed the inconvenient positioning of the bed. “Vinyl, what are you-” Vinyl. Proceed.

Vinyl leant in, breathing hotly on the cellist’s face. “Well… It’s been too long, Tavi. I think we should finally try this.” She pressed her lips against her marefriend’s, uniting them in a kiss, which lasted longer than the few previous ones they’d shared, and had much more impact on the grey mare.

“Wow.” Octavia licked her saliva-stained lips as the mares broke the kiss. “Wow. That… felt good. You used tongue in, uhm, in a special way,” she observed, blushing slightly at the thought that, previously, their kisses had been more of a formality of dating… but now…

“I did.” Vinyl crawled over Octavia’s trembling, anticipating body with a thick smile. “And I want…” The unicorn pressed her lips against Octavia’s ear, whispering, “To show you…” She abruptly slid down the grey body, which was blushing all by now, with Octavia’s mind reeling in impossible directions. Vinyl looked up from the lower part of Octavia and met her marefriend’s eyes with her sultry gaze. “Just how much I can use tongue~”

That’s it, Octavia thought. It’s happening. It’s finally happening. And not like I thought at all… How can two mares even-? Do we need a condom? What if she uses her horn instead of a, um. Will we need a horn condom?

Vinyl dug in, her head disappearing between Octavia’s legs…

“Vinyl?” Octavia blinked, shifting uneasily. “What are you doing?” Vinyl. Stahp.

“Mmfm?”

“Vinyl.” Octavia tapped Vinyl’s head, the top just above the horn. “You… You are licking my knee.” And it weirds me out.

“Um.” Vinyl lifted her head, her white face lighting up with pink. “I… Doesn’t that turn you on?” She shifted uneasily. “Doesn’t that make you, well, uh. Wet?”

Octavia tinted with embarrassment. “Vinyl! Why would I be wet?” She tried to come up with a response. “You were licking the inside of my knee. It’s… sloppy. And weird.”

Vinyl opened her mouth helplessly. “I am pretty sure you have to be, uh, wet. You know, down there.” Awkwardly, the DJ flushed. “I mean. For us to have sex.”

“Why should I-” A realisation dawned upon the young cellist. “Vinyl. You… You actually have no idea what to do, do you.”

In sheer shame, Vinyl winced and nodded quickly. “Do you?” she asked hopefully. “I, um, could use some directions.”

“I…” Octavia averted her eyes. “I don’t know. I think, um. You don’t really have a penis, do you.” Celestia what I am saying.

“Last time I checked, I didn’t.” Vinyl glanced down. “No, I don’t. Uh. Maybe we should look up some porn magazines and-”

“Vinyl!” Octavia gaped loudly. “Porn?! How could you say that?!” The nerve! The audacity!

“What?” Vinyl shifted. “We’re legally adults. We can read porn. Porn is good. Porn is love. Porn is-”

“Reading porn is bad,” Octavia replied firmly. “And those who read it should feel bad.” She gazed pointedly at Vinyl.

“Hey, for your information, I have never held a porn mag in my hooves!” Vinyl turned round a little. “If I had, I’d’ve already sexed you good and nice!”

“Vinyl!” Octavia took a deep breath. On second thoughts, she wouldn’t mind Vinyl sexing her good and nice all that much… Brain. I’m warning you.

“It’s all right.” Vinyl’s face lit up with a grin. “I know exactly what to do.”

***

Lyra sat in the armchair and exhaled in content. She took her cup of tea and blew on the liquid softly. The chilly autumn evening was perfect for a little Lyra-time, alone with tea and the fireplace sounds on her playlist and the pencils and paper. A perfect evening for silent drawing while her marefriend was sleeping off the horrors of her exam.

The doorbell rang.

Lyra groaned, closing her eyes. There was no way in hell somepony would interrupt her little round-about-midnight drawing-time. Nopony had ever done that, who in their sane mind would-

“Of course.” Lyra took a breath and opened the door. “Yes, Vinyl?” She nodded towards the blushing grey mare. “Hello, Octavia.”

“Lyra!” Vinyl greeted her with a wide grin, making an attempt to come in, an attempt immediately blocked by the mint unicorn. “Sorry for interrupting you in the middle of whatever you’re doing, but Tavi and I were wondering…”

“Straight to the point, Scratch.” Lyra rubbed her eyelids.

Vinyl took a breath. “HOW THE HELL DO WE HAVE SEX?!”

***

Nopony knows about sex. I swear. It's such a grey spot that I tend to think all this hype around sex is made-up. Honestly, can it be so hard to put a penis in a vagina? But here comes the rub: what if there is no penis? Only a horn?.. okay, no, scratch that. Lyra can stick it up her ass.

Anyway, we're both too tired to follow her instructions tonight, and the next exam is tomorrow so I guess we can try it out again. If we survive the exam, that is.

- A very tired Octavia, October 8th

October 9th

Dear Diary,

It is afternoon, and we are about to do it. We really, really are about to do it. On the one hoof, I want it. I want it so much. On the other hoof, I am scared like there’s no tomorrow. Today is the today, I keep telling myself. Jeffrey and Mom are gone for a few hours, and Vinyl has just gone to the bathroom to shower. After that, well…

Oh Celestia. Will it hurt? Lyra’s directions were pretty precise, but… Well, with what I said to Beauty Brass anyway… Ah, to hell with it! I have to take a leap of faith. Dive into the unknown.

At least the exam wasn’t that hard…

***

“Well, the exam wasn’t that hard.”

Octavia left the room with Lyra and Bon-Bon by her side, smiling at whatever awaited her after the exam. What wouldn’t await her was this: the voicing of the results, the horror that haunted all first-years. Instead, what awaited her was one more exam, and then a grand boozy celebration. The little pony in Octavia’s head put on a cap: Yarr! Rum!

No, Octavia thought. Never again.

“Of course it wasn’t hard,” Beauty’s voice reached the ponies’ ears. The mare in question flashed past the group, holding her head up primly. “For an antisocial nerd like you.” Before Octavia could retort, Beauty went into the bathroom.

“The nerve!” Octavia spat. “The audacity!”

Just as she decided to throw off a tirade, the door to the next classroom opened, and out stormed a very excited Vinyl, who ran up to the cellist and threw her hooves around the mare, knocking her off her hooves. Quite literally. “Tavi Tavi Tavi Tavi!” the white pony chanted, while Lyra laughed and Octavia just remained there on the floor, pinned by her marefriend. “I got an A! They liked the way I, uh, the way I interacted with the ‘audience’ and, well, I got a ninety!”

“That’s great, Vinyl!” Octavia replied cheerfully, nuzzling her marefriend, much to the ‘aww’ of Bon-Bon. “I’m glad you passed with merit, but I knew you would!” With reluctance, she tried to push off the excited mare, but she paid no heed.

“That’s great news, Vinyl,” Lyra confirmed, grinning widely. “Not as great as that settlement-”

“Oh, look at the plebeians exchanging pleasantries the plebeian way.” Beauty huffed, attempting to walk by. But Octavia grunted and, pushing Vinyl off her, stood up, blocking the mare’s way.

“How was the exam, Beauty?” Octavia asked, feigning politeness. “I hope your relationship with my best friend did not hinder your preparations.

“It was easy,” Beauty answered plainly, with a huff, “but not as easy as it was for you.” She paused, tapping her hoof against Octavia’s chest. “Nerd.”

"Do you want to know why the exam was so easy for me?" Octavia hissed, victorious noted inhibiting her intonation as she stepped closer to the mare, advancing on her in slow, pointed steps.

"Why?" Beauty asked, assuming a defensive state, backing down a little. “Because you’re a nerd who doesn’t do anything but study?

"Because," Octavia spoke victoriously, grabbing a very surprised Vinyl by the waist, "we had wonderful sex just the night before." She licked her lips and smacked them. "And it felt so good."

"You?" Bea chuckled, waving her hoof. "You are the biggest nerd this university has ever seen. You," she pointed at the grey mare, "are the synonym for antisocial. I’ve been asking about you. You didn’t have any friends at school. Don't tell me you-"

"You know," Vinyl spoke up, "we did have sex this night. And, uh, it was really good," she confirmed with a smug grin. "And guess what? We both had an orgasm." She pondered. "Twice."

Beauty's eyes widened a little. "Uhm." She blushed almost invisibly. "C-can you do that? Can you orgasm twice?"

Now, Octavia had fully regained her newfound confidence. "I'm not a politician with cheap slogans," she said, "But yes. You. Can."

Bea opened her mouth to say something, but, instead, settled on huffing and walking away. Octavia cheered silently and scored a point for team V-O. "Thanks for playing along, Vinyl," she said warmly as she wrapped the white mare in a tight, warm embrace.

"Yeaaah." Vinyl scratched the back of her head and looked at her marefriend reluctantly. "Tavi? When, um.” She sighed, averting her eyes. “When will we actually have sex?"

"Um." Octavia blushed slightly. "Well, um. L-lyra was pretty precise about it... I guess..." She panted a little, feeling the hall about her suddenly heat up. "M-maybe we could c-celebrate the exam, you know, I mean, we could, just, we could, I mean-"

Vinyl shut her up, pressing her hoof against Octavia's lips. "Shush, you silly pony. We don't need to rush it." Even though I want it like woah. “We’ll do it when you want it.”

"Bweh a ww t woo," Octavia said.

"What?" Vinyl blinked, then, upon a realisation, withdrew her hoof with a giggle.

"But I want it, tonight," Octavia repeated, now her face fully pink. "I. I really want to do it with you." She fell silent for a moment. "We... I guess we won't need horn condoms for?"

"No." Vinyl shook her head.

"No." Octavia nodded. She nodded again. "Good."

***

Vinyl pinned her mare to the bed, keeping in mind Lyra’s explanations, but not letting them disrupt the natural flow of things. She grinned at the flustered mare and gifted her with a strong, passionate kiss. Without breaking the kiss, she slid her hoof down to massage Octavia’s flanks.

The cellist moaned into the kiss, grinding against the white pony subconsciously, her wildest desire to prolong the pleasure. She grabbed Vinyl with one of her legs, placing it onto the white pony’s back.

Vinyl took the hint and, breaking the kiss leant over to Octavia’s ear, whispered, “Are you ready?”

Thoughts rushed through the cellist’s head, thoughts of what they were about to do, and whether they had to do it. But she just smiled eventually and nodded resolutely. “Born ready.”

Vinyl lowered her position, planting small kisses on Octavia’s belly, making the cellist shiver in delight. Her hoof made its way to Octavia’s nethers, rubbing the region very very lightly. Octavia moaned and arched her back.

Finally, Vinyl decided to stop the games and, withdrawing for one second, pressed her lips against the prize. Grinning, she dug in.

Octavia screamed.

***

I just had sex! And it felt good! In fact, it felt better than playing the cello. It was like eating a big bag of chips and then finding another one and then you learn you've enrolled in the Royal Orchestra and Sineightra knocks at the door to sing to you personally - all at the same time. And even better!

Sweet Celestia, I love Vinyl so much. She... she is such a good marefriend. Such a sweet pony. She is snoozing in bed with me now. I love her so, so much. My lover.

I want to make breakfast tomorrow so I'll probably go to sleep now. And, by Vinyl's side, I know I'll sleep well tonight.

- Vinyl's Octavia, October 9th

October 10th

Dear Diary,

She didn’t-! Oh Celestia… She didn’t! I mean, I did, and uh, it was really good, but Vinyl… Vinyl didn’t, uh, um, orgasm. And it was all my fault! All. My. Fault! I should have done something… Oh, I dunno, I should have sexed her in some way too! But I didn’t! I mean, sure, first tries aren’t the best, but… Uh.

So, let’s face it. Our first sex was brief, abrupt, and unfair to Vinyl. I can’t imagine how she must feel. I just… orgasmed, and then I fell asleep. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I should have stayed awake, no, I should have woken her up too, and, uh, sexed her in some manner!

The one thing I can’t understand is how she can be so cheerful when she didn’t-! Ugh!

***

“I just had sex!”

The little house had seen it all. It had seen Octavia at her best and worst. It had heard shouts and yells and arguments and singing and drunken tirades. The walls should be used to such things already. But the walls had never heard Vinyl singing on top of her lungs, trying to accompany herself on a cello - without a bow.

“And it felt so good!”

Octavia blushed as thickly as she could, burying her face in her hooves as she sat at breakfast with her mother and the butler. Okay. This can’t get more awkward.

“When she let me put my tongue insi-ide he-er!”

“Okay.” Octavia raised her head, avoiding looking at either Eleanore or Jeffrey. “This madness has to stop.” She quickly excused herself and stormed up to her bedroom. Upon entering it, she saw, indeed, her marefriend, Vinyl Scratch, trying to play the cello like a guitar, and singing her vocal chords out. “Vinyl,” Octavia tried loudly.

“I just had se-e-e-ex!”

“VINYL!” Octavia roared, throwing herself towards the DJ, and grabbing the cello out of her hooves. “This. Has. To. Stop!” She placed the cello in its rightful place in the corner on a stand. The cellist glared at her marefriend, but, upon seeing the look in Vinyl’s eyes, melted. “Uh. Sorry, Vinyl. It’s just that Mom and Jeffrey… I don’t think this is the kind of song you should sing with them around.”

“But they’re totally cool with us having sex, right?” Vinyl enquired hopefully. “I mean... “ Vinyl raised her hoof. “I mean, they’re cool with it, right?”

Octavia sighed heavily. “They don’t know about it.” She amended, “Well, at least they didn’t know about it until you began to sing.” The grey pony sighed again. She sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her, inviting her marefriend over. “Vinyl,” she said very seriously. “I… I’m sorry.”

Vinyl blinked obliviously as she tried to scrutinise Octavia’s look. “Uhm… Okay? I mean, it was my fault too, singing this loud with-”

“No, no, no.” Octavia shook her head, averting her eyes in sheer shame. “I am sorry that you… didn’t… uhm. Yesterday.” She looked at Vinyl hopefully, praying that the white pony would get the hint.

However, it is Vinyl we’re talking about, so no sign of sentience crossed the white pony’s forehead. “I didn’t what?” she asked cheerfully, feeling glad she was off the hook about taking her marefriend’s cello.

“You didn’t…” Octavia lowered her voice, looking around cautiously. “Orgasm,” she whispered, a thick blush covering her cheeks. “I should have, um, returned the favour, but I, uh…” The pony threw her hooves in the air desperately and shielded her face.

Vinyl tapped at the barricade lightly. “Tavi? You are being silly.” She tapped again, and Octavia revealed her face that was on the verge of tears. “Tavi…” The DJ wrapped her cellist in a tight embrace. “You’re being a silly pony. It was our first time. It was guaranteed to suck.” Octavia blinked, wondering how Vinyl had just managed to pronounce such a difficult word. “We’ll have many more, and you’ll definitely have the opportunity to well…” She grinned. “Toot my flute properly.”

Octavia’s gaze grew sterner. “Vinyl.” She pointed at the white pony accusingly. “Never. Ever. Call our lovemaking that.”

Vinyl rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. “Gotcha.”

***

“We’re going to a strip club.”

Octavia blinked as the four ponies made their way along the road. “We’re going where?” she questioned, trying to realise the concept of a strip club. “I thought we were going drinking?”

“There will be drinking,” Lyra confirmed with a grin, “but there will also be hot, sexy mares there. Who will be taking off their clothing.” Lyra wink winked and nudge nudged her marefriend, who rolled her eyes. “Come on, Octavia, we all know you’re lusting for some mares to appear before you totally naked.”

Octavia lifted her forehoof. “Um. We all are totally naked, all the time. How is that supposed to be sexy?” She glanced at her DJ, who merely shrugged and generally decided to roll with whatever Lyra had planned. “All right, we’ll see.”

Right in front of the club - which, coincidentally, was located in the basement of a large block of flats - stood a gruff stallion whose face gave a strong impression that he ate concrete blocks for breakfast. The four ponies approached him warily.

Just as Lyra stepped across the red line on the ground, the stallion glared at her with extreme intensity and extended his hoof, blocking the way. “The club is full for tonight,” he said in an unusually high voice that would otherwise make Octavia laugh - if this were a different situation.

“Oh,” Lyra fluttered her eyelashes, “I’m sure they’ll find just one little table for us…” She tried to pass again, but the stallion blocked the way himself:

“Did you book a table in advance?”

“No, but-” Lyra tried, but the stallion blocked the ponies’ way.

“None shall pass,” he announced in that high-pitched voice of his. Octavia couldn’t help but snicker. As she saw the look of extreme annoyance on the security pony’s face, she immediately wished she hadn’t.

“So, Lyra,” Vinyl whispered as the four mares all took a step backwards. “What’s the plan now?”

“Well, now,” Lyra began in a hushed tone, “Vinyl, Bon-Bon, and I wait until nightfall, then leap-”

Suddenly, a familiar voice drew the attention of everypony around:

“Let them in, they’re with me.”

The stallion took one glance at the mare speaking, and immediately stepped aside. “Of course, Miss-”

“Spitfire!” Octavia exclaimed, looking at the lean, muscular pegasus mare that smiled at her and waved. “I haven’t seen you in ages!” She turned to her friends happily. “Guys, this is Spitfire,” she wrapped her hoof around the amber-maned pegasus, “my foalhood friend.” She looked at the mare and laughed. “Oh my Celestia, Spits, is it really you?” She hugged the mare awkwardly and pointed at her companions in turn. “This is Lyra, this is her marefriend Bon-Bon, and this uncouth unicorn is my marefriend Vinyl.”

Vinyl waved at the pegasus, smiling obliviously, absolutely certain that “uncouth” stood for something good. Then her eyes fell on Spitfire’s rump. And lingered there.

“Pleased to meet you all,” Spitfire said with a smile.

“Uuh.” Vinyl’s eyes moved, with difficulty, from the yellow mare’s flank. “Yes…” she drawled, eyeing the muscles beneath that shining coat. “Pleased… to meet you.”

Spitfire caught the look and smiled knowingly. “Should we get going?”

***

Spitfire!

I haven’t seen her in ages! While the show might have been somewhat arousing, me and her just talked and talked all through the night. Lyra and Bon-Bon went to the bathroom, together, for reasons I don’t want to comprehend now, and Vinyl… Vinyl was acting weird.

It felt as if she liked my friend, but at the same time she looked very distant. Never looked her in the eye. I wonder if she’s jealous. How silly it would be! Me and Spitfire! Ha!

One way or another, she invited Vinyl and me over for a meal tomorrow. I guess I’ll put on my special magenta bow tie.

Octavia Philarmonica, October 10th

October 11th

Dear Diary,

Why on earth did I eat breakfast?

I mean, I know that it’s all about nutrition and stuff, and it’s best if you eat breakfast every day, but why did I eat breakfast before going to Spitfire’s? I mean, sure, Vinyl did eat breakfast with me… but it’s Vinyl we’re talking about! She’s insatiable! ...Which reminds me to try out my sexing technique tonight…

Celestia, that sounded so lame. I mean we are about to f- f- f- have sex. Very defiantly.

Ugh!

How can I have sex when I’m stuffed!

***

“Uh, I’m stuffed.”

Octavia pushed away the plate with the cake, eyeing it with lasting sadness. I have failed you, cake. I ate you but I didn’t finish you. Forgive me for my sins, cake. Octavia lowered her head somberly. Forgive me.

With effort, the cellist looked up and around the only room in the flat. Granted, it wasn’t exactly Spitfire's - the mare was renting it for the time being - but it was spacious and a penthouse at that!

“So,” Octavia asked while Vinyl tried, vainly, to conceal a burp, “What exactly are you doing here in the city?” She yawned and, with a final glance, pulled the cake up to herself again. “I mean, you lived in Cloudsdayle, right?”

Spitfire poured some more tea to Octavia and herself, then licked her lips for some reason and poured some tea to Vinyl. “How many pieces of sugar will you have, Vinyl?”

“Uh,” Vinyl said elaborately, staring at the muscles of Spitfire’s broad foreshoulders. “Yes.”

Spitfire laughed and put one piece of sugar, flicking her tail against Vinyl’s back for some reason. Octavia needed only a quick glance to make the plot fall:

“Spitfire, darling, please stop visually molesting my marefriend,” Octavia asked with a smile, but with a touch of steel in her eyes.

However, Spitfire banished those fears with a wave of a hoof. “Oh, don’t worry, Octavia. I would never do anything to your marefriend without you also taking part.” She winked and leant in, making Octavia at the same time very uncomfortable and comfortable. “But if you need an experienced mare to help you…” She traced Octavia’s chin with her hoof, much to Vinyl’s awe (the little pony in Vinyl’s head started taking notes), and grinned. “You know whom to call on.”

“I- ugh, yes!” Octavia laughed artificially, looking to Vinyl apologetically, even though the unicorn did not expect an apology. (Only a continuation! the little pony in Vinyl’s head claimed.) “Of course. I, um, didn’t know you were a filly-fooler.” The cellist took a big bite of cake to chew on, despite herself.

“I’m not,” Spitfire clarified, putting a piece of sugar into her tea. “Since I’ve been with the Wonderbolts…” She lifted her head, counting. “That was when I turned eighteen, so two years ago… I’ve been with five mares, two stallions, a female zebra and a male griffin.” She smiled broadly. “We Wonderbolts love to sleep around.”

Octavia gulped, her face paling as the little pony in her head counted. “Yes. That’s… I see that.”

“You’ve been with a zigga?” Vinyl asked suddenly, drawing both mares’ attention. Spitfire lifted her brow. “Um, I mean… Aren’t they…” The little pony in her head put on a white mask: Inferior? “Cool,” she amended, trying to counter her faulty upbringing. “Ziggas are totally cool. Just like griffins. Wow is there cake?” The DJ swiftly grabbed the plate and dug into the sweet treat.

“Well…” Spitfire cleared her throat. “Anyway. The Wonderbolts are doing a few shows here in the city so I’ll be stuck here for a couple months. But hey!” She smiled warmly at Octavia. “Isn’t it great that my friend Octavia is here with her marefriend to make it easier…” She pouted (very sexily, the little pony in Octavia’s head noticed). “For me…” She fluttered her eyelashes, sending certain parts of both Octavia and Vinyl on fire. “To stay here?”

“Yes…” Octavia whispered, exchanging a look with her marefriend. “Very… great.”

***

“Admit it!”

Vinyl poked Octavia’s side, and the cellist rolled over with a groan. “No!”

“Admit it!” Vinyl poked the cellist’s rump again, a little harder this time. “Come on, Tavi, admit it! You were totally thinking about rutting Spitfire!”

“No!” Octavia rolled back, glaring into Vinyl’s pools of magenta. “I was not! You, however, looked like you were a deer in heat! You were, you were undressing her with your eyes!” Octavia extended her hoof, pointing at the white mare.

Vinyl blinked at the accusation and pushed the hoof away. “Tavi, we don’t wear clothes. And yes,” she continued defiantly, “I may have had a couple sexy thoughts about your friend. But that’s just cause she’s so damn hot!” Vinyl flailed her hooves in the air desperately. “She was- ugh! Did you see those muscles?”

“Oh. Yes. I. Did.” Octavia closed her eyes and sighed. “Well. Yes. I did think that. But that’s weird. She’s my foalhood friend! It would be wrong to, you know?”

“But think about it…” Vinyl rubbed Octavia’s belly as she purred into her ear: “You, me, Spitfire… And maybe a leather belt and some hoofcuffs…”

“Yes…” Octavia melted under Vinyl’s touch. “That would be…” Her eyes shot wide open. “Improper,” she said immediately. “Totally improper.”

“Well, if you say so.” Vinyl shrugged. Then grinned. “Hey. Somepony was saying something about ‘returning the favour’?”

“She might…” Octavia poked her marefriend back. “She even might…” Octavia licked her lips. “Overexert herself…” She rolled over and ended up on top of the unicorn. She kissed the mare’s neck passionately. “She might even tell you what ‘to overexert’ means…”

“Yes, baby.” Vinyl nuzzled into the grey mare’s fur. “Tell me about those long, complicated words…” Like ‘Disillusionment’, the little pony in her head suggested. Or ‘Octahedron’.

With her magic, Vinyl reached for the switch and turned off the light.

***

She didn’t! Again! And this time it was all my fault! Why am I so bad at sexing her? All the way, she was distant and, and, and she didn’t-! She didn’t come! I’ve never been so ashamed before. Will she dump me? Oh, I’m sure the first thing she does tomorrow when she wakes up will be to leave me forever!

And she will be right! Such a bad, lousy marefriend like me - who needs such a marefriend who can’t even make her marefriend orgasm? I tried! I really, really tried! But I- No, all of that sounds like excuses. I don’t know whom to talk to. I need to learn to be better at sex… But who has more experience? Experience with multiple partners, so she could… just…

Oh. Ooooooh. Of course.

a very smart Octavia, October 11th

October 12th

Dear Diary,

Worry worry worry! Not only did I not make my marefriend come, but I also got a B! I got a B! How dreadful! I knew I was a lousy, good-for-nothing marefriend, but now I got a B! I wish I could burn the damn letter… A B! Me, getting a B!

I won’t leave this room. I will stay here forever. It’s only morning, and I’m pretty sure I can last till night without food… And Vinyl will have to live elsewhere… Ah, who am I kidding! I woke up, and she wasn’t there, so I guess she moved away forever!

Celestia, why are you doing this to me? How miserable should I be to finally feel all right?

And now, as if on cue, somepony is knocking at my door…

***

“Go away.”

Octavia turned away from the door and sniffed, looking at the letter, which quite blandly stated that she, Octavia Philarmonica, had gotten a B for her previous examination. The cellist huffed and threw the letter away; but, paper being paper, it just floated there and descended slowly onto the bed.

“Tavi, you’re freaking me out,” came Vinyl’s voice from the other side of the door. The knocking resumed. “Jeffrey says you locked yourself up and won’t leave. What’s wrong, Tavi?”

“Everything’s wrong!” Octavia rasped, turning towards the source of the sound, her eyes puffy from crying. “Everything is wrong!” In a softer tone, she followed up: “I won’t blame you if you decide to leave me now. I deserve it.”

“What?” Vinyl’s bedazzlement could be well-heard even through the thickness of the door. “Tavi, please open the door,” came the muffled sound. “I promise I won’t leave you. I want to help.”

You can’t help me, Octavia thoughts. However, the little pony in her head took out a stick and began slapping the cellist from the inside. Go! Go! Go! The cellist obeyed and stood up, trotting to the door. With a sigh, she opened it up.

Vinyl stepped in quietly and closed the door behind her. Before Octavia could open her mouth to speak, Vinyl shushed her with a tiny kiss and led her mare to the bed. Sitting on the bed, she finally enquired, “Tavi, tell me what’s wrong. What’s the matter?”

Octavia sobbed, fearing to press her head against her marefriend whom she’d wrong - but the marefriend in question forcefully pressed her shoulder against Octavia’s head, initiating the gesture. “I… I couldn’t make you orgasm,” the cellist confessed, a terrible burden weighing on her soul. “I tried, I really did… But I failed.” The sobbing intensified, and Vinyl pressed her lips against the top of Octavia’s head. “I failed, Vinyl, because I am a bad marefriend and I cannot sex you well and if you wanna leave me right now I’ll understand!”

For a moment, Vinyl just stared at her sobbing marefriend. Then she tapped the cellist’s forehead lightly. “Is the stupid contagious?” She looked into her marefriend’s eyes scrutinisingly. “I hope it isn’t, because if it is, I’ll soon become a silly pony too.” She tapped Octavia’s forehead again, the cellist’s sobs softening. “Stop being silly, Tavi, you know very well I love you all the same, orgasm or no orgasm.”

“R-really?” Octavia asked, smiling a little, when the thought hit her, in the form of the little pony in her head screaming: She said the L-word! She said the L-word! “W-wait.” Octavia sniffed and rubbed her nose. “Do you… Do you really?”

“I love you,” Vinyl said simply, looking into Octavia’s lavender eyes with her deep, reddish magenta. “You don’t have to say this, it’s just how I feel about you. I love you.”

Octavia broke into tears again, half of happiness, half of relief, half of fear. The little pony in her head put on her spectacles: Technically, that makes it three halves… “V-Vinyl! I love you too. I love you. I do. I really do.” She kept sobbing and hugging her mare, and sobbing some more. When she felt that she had relieved herself enough, she smiled brightly at Vinyl, tears in her eyes. “Vinyl, I promise I’ll make it up to you. Somehow. I’ll… I’ll ask Spitfire to help.”

Vinyl blinked, a hint of a blush touching her cheeks. “You… You’ll ask your foalhood friend to make me orgasm?” Not that I mind… the little pony in Vinyl’s head noticed. But without Tavi, it would be rather… bland.

“N-no!” Octavia blushed back, averting her eyes for a second. “I mean, I will ask her to give me some guidance. Some pointers… I mean,” Octavia gesticulated, “she’s experienced. She’s an older mare, she’s almost twenty-one. I’m sure she can… uh… educate me.” Whatever that entails.

“Tavi,” Vinyl said very seriously. “Please promise me you won’t have sex with Spitfire.” The little pony in her head tapped impatiently. “Without me.”

Octavia blinked. The little pony in her head cheered and sent a kiss to the little pony in Vinyl’s head. Octavia blinked again. Do I even want to know? “Okay,” she said in a small voice, trying to shove the letter away.

However, Vinyl was quicker. She swiftly glanced at it and her face widened in a broad smile. “Tavs, that’s great! You got a B!” She proceeded to kiss the confused mare on the cheek loudly.

Octavia frowned, pushing her marefriend away a touch. “No, Vinyl! That’s horrible! I got a B!” She winced, touching her knee. “I brought dishonour to my family!”

“What?” Now it was Vinyl’s turn to frown. “Tavi, that’s silly. Your family loves you. I love you. We would all love you even if you’d gotten an E or an F or whatever is the grade for failure.”

Octavia sniffed again. “I don’t know…”

“Of course we all love you, dear.” Eleanore entered without knocking. “A B is still a mark, and guess what?” She smiled her radiant smile. “We don’t judge you because of your marks. Not me. Not Jeffrey. Not Vinyl. We all love you regardless of your achievements.” She kissed her filly on the top of her head, just like Vinyl had done a few minutes before.

“Th-thanks.” Octavia sobbed and, stretching out, kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thank you, Mom.” She waited for a few moment before the silence grew awkward. “Mom. How long have you been standing in front of my door, listening?”

“Ahem.” Eleanore blushed slightly, moving away from the bed. “Well…” She smiled apologetically. “Enough for me to know that Spitfire is back in town?”

***

“Remind me, Vinyl,” Octavia said in a heavy voice as the two ponies sat at Spitfire’s kitchen, an uneasy silence floating in the air. “Why did I take you with me?” She looked longingly in the direction of the fridge, where the cake was, undoubtedly, waiting for her. No, the little pony in her head argued, don’t you know that the cake is a lie?

“Because you love me,” Vinyl said very pointedly, nudging the cellist under the table. Because I don’t want you having sex with Spitfire while I’m away. “But I get the notion. I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the bathroom,” she said, quickly looking over the large single room from the kitchen nook and finding the only door. “Um, taking a shower?” Octavia wiggled her brows sternly. “A bath! Taking a bath! That all right with you, Spitfire?”

The pegasus laughed, eyeing the unicorn boldly from horn to hooves. “I guess. I give it a fifty percent chance that we join in.”

Octavia laughed loudly, a thick, artificial laugh. “Oh, Spits, you and your jokes!” She waved her hoof in the air, glaring at Vinyl to leave. Once the unicorn escaped to the bathroom, the earth pony turned to her friend pleadingly. “Spits, I have a very serious problem.”

Spitfire raised a brow. “Is the problem that you two can’t stop staring at my rump?” She flicked her tail aside, and the muscular plot immediately attracted the cellist’s attention. Mmm… Dat plot, the little pony in Octavia’s head mouthed, drooling.

“N-not really.” Octavia looked up and met Spitfire’s eyes. She had never noticed how… orange they were. What a weird colour for eyes, she thought. Yes, the little pony said, because lavender and magenta are so ordinary. “I… Spits, you… You have mentioned you… have been with a few mares?” the cellist asked carefully.

Spitfire blinked in mock innocence. “If by ‘have been’ you mean ‘have tried all the positions in the Filly-Fooling Ponysutra’, then yes.” She smiled and nodded. “I have been with a few mares.”

“Cool.” Octavia chewed on her bottom lip. “I…” She stood up from the table and sighed deeply. “I can’t make Vinyl orgasm,” she confessed in a sad, dull voice. “I, um, tried hoofing her, and, um, licking her, but…” She sighed again. “To no avail.”

“Hmm.” Spitfire rubbed her chin thoughtfully, then grinned. “Hey. Can you show me what exactly you were doing?” With that, she advanced on the grey mare, who panicked immediately.

“W-what? I…” Octavia laughed in a high-pitched tone. “Do you mean, I… Oh, Spitfire… You must be j-”

“I’m not joking.” Spitfire nudged Octavia lightly, and the pony stumbled, falling over onto the floor, landing on her rump. “Octavia, if you want me to help you… I can only help you by physical demonstration.” The pegasus licked her lips, coming ever so closely to the grey mare. “Demonstration is the best education.”

“Spits!” Octavia tried to counter the assertive pegasus by crawling away. “I- I don’t know what’s gotten into you but-”

“Relax, Octavia…” Spitfire leant over the flustered mare, her wings standing at full attention. The pegasus brushed her nose against Octavia’s neck boldly. Somehow, the situation was arousing the cellist immensely: her friend on top of her, pinning her to the floor, nuzzling her all over and where was that wing going?

“Ooooooh…” Octavia exhaled in a moan, relaxing under the weight of the yellow mare, submitting to her foalhood friend gladly. “Spits, we’re - oooh - if Vinyl - aaah…”

Spitfire had moved from nuzzling to kissing Octavia’s neck, somehow guessing all the right spots that only Vinyl knew, going lower and lower and lower… Suddenly, Octavia felt Spitfire’s hot breath where only Vinyl had gone before. Her instinct was to clench her legs shut but Spitfire had already dug in. The cellist had never imagined her friend’s tongue being so skilful, so right in every aspect, and, of course, it was only natural to assume that this very tongue belonged in her just like Vinyl’s tongue belonged in her and-

“Tavi, I think we’re- What the hay are you two doing here?!”

Octavia shrieked, trying to shift away from Spitfire, who deviated her attention from eating out the cellist and towards the doorway, where a very shocked Vinyl stood, her mouth agape, her knees trembling. “V-Vinyl, love! This- this isn’t-”

“This is exactly what it looks like,” Spitfire interjected, getting up and licking her lips seductively. “This was me licking your marefriend’s hot, dripping pussy.” With those dirty words, she moved towards the blushing DJ, who still couldn’t comprehend what was going on. “And now this is me…” She nibbled on Vinyl’s ear affectionately. “Moving on to you…” She brushed her wing against the unicorn’s flank, eliciting a small yelp from the white mare. “And fucking you silly till you cannot stand.” With that, Spitfire tackled Vinyl, pinning her to the floor, tossing her lips onto the unicorn’s, her tongue battling Vinyl’s tongue for dominance.

Octavia felt severely hot, looking at her marefriend committing adultery with her foalhood friend, and so blatantly at that. She couldn’t just stand by. Well, lie by, given the situation. With effort, Octavia stood up and demanded, “Spitfire. Spits. What are you doing? Spits, we both know-”

“Shush.” Spitfire broke the kiss, turning towards the cellist. “I’ve seen the way you two look at me. You want me.” Vinyl blushed and averted her eyes, realising this mostly implied her. “And that’s fine,” the pegasus assured the mares with a wink. “You two are so damn cute and hot and totally fuckable.” Octavia opened her mouth to counter the choice of the wording, but Spitfire continued, “So what’s the best thing to do? Have a threesome, of course! Come on, fillies.” Spitfire let Vinyl stand up and led her towards Octavia, who was reddening by the bed. “Let me show you just how much we Wonderbolts know when it comes down to sex…”

“I, uh…” Vinyl looked at Octavia, at the same time trying to avoid looking directly into her eyes. “Tavi… I mean, it’s not technically cheating if we’re both, well, you know?” The mare flushed crimson as she considered the possibility.

“Well…” Octavia pondered. That’s insanity. That’s the definition of insanity. “I mean… We both like Spits, and Spits, uh, and I guess we…” She waved in the air. “I mean, if we’re both… Then it’s not really adultery… What I mean is…”

“What you mean,” Spitfire suggested with a huge grin, wrapping her left wing around Vinyl and her right wing around Octavia, “is that the three of us should let go of all that’s holding us back and go to bed.”

And so they did.

***

Wow.

Uh. I mean. Wow. Just. Spitfire. Wow. I mean. Wow. That was. That was! Wow. I guess. I never thought. Wow. Never thought such things were possible. What she did with her. And then. Uh. Wow. I mean. Wow. Woooooow.

Octavia Philarmonica, I don’t even remember what date it is

October 16th

Dear Diary,

It’s Friday and the exams are over! Finally over! Today’s exam was the hardest, but it was a spoken one, and I got an A! Well, with two ‘A’s and one B, this exam session was overall a nice one.

Now, Diary, you may be wondering about my… private life. (Of course you aren’t, but I’ll pretend you are anyway.) I’ve made Vinyl come! Twice! Huge thanks to Spitfire, who, um, took her time, erm, showing us, that is, demonstrating, uhm, some of the finest techniques. Great, and now I’m blushing.

One way or another, it’s Friday, and it means we are going out drinking again! I have no idea why, but the idea of having drunken shenanigans with Vinyl fills me with glee. I could ponder that alcohol gives me an excuse to be myself, or something of the kind… But, instead, I will happily get wasted!

Spitfire says she knows this special place…

***

“Is this your special place?”

Octavia eyed the little building in front of her, an out-of-place construction in the city centre, hosting a butcher’s, a grocery store, and a bank. She looked around and sighed. “Okay. I give up. I don’t see your special place. It must be a miracle;”

Lyra pointed to the inside of the left part of the building. “Here. There are steps down to the basement.” She nudged Bon-Bon to follow her as well.

As the three mares followed the mint unicorn inside, Spitfire wondered in a low whisper, “Does she really know everything?” Receiving a nod from both Vinyl and Octavia, she sighed and stretched her left wing. “That’s so OP.”

“You get used to it,” Octavia assured her, descending the steps after Bon-Bon, whose nice rump was lingering in her view. Stop that nonsense, brain, Octavia warned, I am not that promiscuous.

The three mares emerged into a large room, elegantly designed, with wooden tables everywhere. There was no stage, but pleasant smooth jazz erupted from the stereo speakers. The walls were adorned with photographs of famous jazz ponies, and zebras, and griffins. There was Frank Sineightra, and Mares Davis, and even Jimi Clawrix. Octavia gasped, seeing as her expectations of a low-brow bar vanished down the drain. “It’s beautiful,” she said, eyeing the complete emptiness of the bar.

“Very cosy,” Vinyl agreed, looking around, her gaze lingering on Spitfire just a moment. Somehow, after the menage a trois, her want of the pegasus faded, replaced by a feeling of camaraderie that, somehow, only intensified her deep, everlasting love towards Octavia. She was no Lyra, but she knew that Octavia felt the same.

“Where are the waiters, though?” Lyra wondered.

Everypony froze. Bon-Bon gasped, looking at her mare, as if she were seeing her for the first time in her life. Vinyl just stared at the unicorn, wide-eyed. Octavia was having trouble closing her mouth as her jaw dropped. Spitfire was the only one looking relatively all right.

“What’s the matter?” Lyra looked around, her gaze lingering on each pony for a few seconds. “Did I say something wrong?”

“You…” Vinyl pointed her hoof at the mint mare. “You just asked a question. The answer to which you didn’t know.” She put the hoof down. “How is that even possible?”

Lyra sighed and rubbed her nose. “Look, if I know everything, that doesn’t mean I know every thing.” She looked at the oblivious faces. “Look, just roll with that.”

Spitfire was the first to shrug. “I’m all right with that. By the way, do you need some sex pointers with your marefriend?”

“No, thank you.” Lyra shook her head. “Your threesome with Vinyl and Octavia was enough.” Again, she looked around. “Where are the waiters, though?”

“There are no waiters,” the bartender replied from the corner, where a small bar counter with two stools rested, with bottles on display and neon lights shining from somewhere beneath the ceiling. “Because there’s no kitchen, and no food. There’s just the drinks.”

“There are,” Octavia corrected in a tiny voice, hoping that she wouldn’t be heard. “Well,” she said louder, “drinks are the reason why we came, right?” She trotted up to the counter. “Good evening,” she greeted the barpony. “What kind of whisky can you offer?”

“Gin for me and Bonnie!” Lyra called out from the table not far from the counter, which the four ponies had just occupied. “And rum for Vinyl.” The white pony nodded in appreciation. “And Spitfire…”

“Just beer,” the pegasus finished for her. “I am not planning on getting wasted tonight.” Catching the mares’ surprised looks, she shrugged. “What? Look, I didn’t just pass all my exams. I have no reason to celebrate.”

“Well,” Vinyl replied, “I am planning on getting wasted tonight, so I’m drinking rum.” The bartender chuckled. Vinyl glared at him. “And I’m gonna drink, like, six shots so-” The bartender chuckled a little louder, shaking his head. “Hey, buddy,” Vinyl addressed the barkeep with irritation evident in her voice. “Is something I’m saying funny?”

“No, ma’am,” the bartender replied, keeping a touch of politeness that didn’t really make it genuine. “It’s just that, you cannot really say you’ve been ‘wasted’ unless you’ve drunk a couple Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters.” He took up a dirty cloth and proceeded to ‘clean’ a dirty glass. Octavia could swear all bartenders had a dirty cloth and a dirty glass, just to look like real bartenders.

“What’s a Pan-whatever?” Vinyl questioned, getting up and trotting up to the counter. She stood by her marefriend and nudged her towards the stool, sitting down on the other one.

“The most potent cocktail that’s been ever mixed,” the barkeep explained with a small smile. “One and a half shots of whisky, half a shot of tequila, half a shot of gin, a shot of Triple Sec, a shot of Blue Curacao, filled to the brim with apple cider. Served cold, drunk in one go.”

Vinyl licked her lips. “Sounds… neat. Very weird, but neat nonetheless.” That’s the opposite of ‘neat’, the little pony in Vinyl’s head tried to explain, but Vinyl told it to go fuck itself. With a stick. “What’s the catch?”

“They’re expensive,” the bartender confessed. “But if you can drink four in a row and walk away on your own legs, without falling once, it’s on the house.”

Octavia frowned. “Have there been precedents?” The bartender shook his head. “As I’ve thought. Well, let’s try just one.” She smiled at Vinyl, who grinned back. “I mean, only one won’t really result in… anything drastic.”

Vinyl waved her hoof in the air. “Of course not.”

***

“N-no, you don’t get it.” Vinyl hiccupped and took off the final painting. “There. Now we know that it’s the metric justice that gives those paintings their essence.” She tried to balance on her three hooves, but stumbled and landed onto the floor. “Metric justice!” she yelled on top of her lungs, much to the dismay of one grey cellist, who was lying in bed and trying to read a book.

“Shush, Vinyl,” Octavia replied angrily. “I am tryin… I mean, this thing here…” She put the book down and looked at the cover. “Oh wait. It’s in Prench.” She glanced at all the paintings lying on the floor. “Vinyl! Clean up this instant those paintings which not nearly enough.”

“You what?” Vinyl got up, with extreme difficulty, and crawled onto the bed. “Ugh! Help me, Tavs.” Octavia extended her hoof, grabbing which, Vinyl ascended. “Thanks.”

For a moment, they just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Finally, Vinyl had gathered enough wits to form a coherent idea: “Don’t you think, sometimes, we’re, like, running away?” She checked her legs. “I mean, not liter- not like. I think we’re drinking because we’d be very sad if we didn’t.” She looked at her marefriend lovingly. “After Melody…” Vinyl sighed and shut her eyes. “Alcohol makes it better, but… I am not a happy pony,” the DJ confessed to her lover, who just lay there, listening. “I drink because I ache. But you.” She tapped Octavia’s side gently. “You make me a happy pony. Thank you.” With that, Vinyl kissed Octavia’s shoulder sloppily.

“Welcome,” Octavia replied, feeling a little more than just dizzy. Was Vinyl right? Did they drink because, otherwise, they would realise how dull their lives will forever be: exams, uni, music. Then work, music, money. Then money, music, problems. Then money and problems. Then just problems. But she had Vinyl. And inserting Vinyl into those equations was exactly the reason to be happy, even for a moment.

“You’re welcome, love,” Octavia repeated, yawning. “You’re welcome.”

***

…

O.P.

October 20th

Dear Diary,

Today was a busy day! I mean, at uni, every day is a busy day, but this one, it seems, was longer than any other day. Yes, I’ve met Beauty and… ugh. I hate her. I hate her so much. You wouldn’t believe what she said! And Frederic, he- Ugh! And Vinyl… And this DJ!

But first things first. This half of the semester, we have a new subject: Ensemble Practice. So I was assigned to a quartet. And imagine what we were given to play...

***

“Pachelbel's Canon. Seriously.” Octavia looked at her sheet music, eyeing the three ponies sitting around her with their respective instruments. The cellist raised her head to meet the tutor’s eyes. “Eight notes. Repeating over and over again. Seriously.”

“Yes,” the tutor, a rather pretty young earth pony mare of cyan coat and an outstanding orange mane, confirmed. “This is exactly the piece you four will be performing. The subject is called Ensemble Practice, and you all have to learn how to work in an ensemble.”

“But it’s too easy and boring!” Octavia exclaimed, looking over her new groupmates: Bon-Bon on the piano, Lyra idly plucking the strings of her lyre, and the harpist… What was his name? “Besides, this quartet doesn’t make sense. Piano and cello, I get it,” Octavia said, much to the approval of Bon-Bon, and to the concurrent disapproval of the harpist earth pony and Lyra. “But having a lyre and a harp within one ensemble? Who even makes the groups? A random number generator?” The little pony in Octavia’s head but on a scientist’s robe.

The tutor just stared at the young cellist ranting and waited till Octavia’s breath slowed to a normal pace again. “Are you done?” Octavia nodded defiantly. “Then listen. The reason why you have all been arranged into groups, which form your respective ensembles, is the same as why you were arranged partners for your winter projects.” The tutor smiled. “To teach you to work in teams. Classical musicians don’t choose whom to play with. We have to be able to get used to playing with any orchestra, in any chamber ensemble. Though,” she admitted, “when we’re talking about chamber performances, you usually choose the ensemble you play with. Anyway. Any more questions?”

“Yes.” Octavia raised her hoof. The pony in her head enquired: Why is the rum gone? “Why Pachelbel’s Canon?!” She looked around to see a wince on Bon-Bon’s face, a frown on the harpist’s face, and calm boredom on Lyra’s face.

“Because I’m evil,” the tutor replied with a grin. Only now did Octavia notice how young the mare was and how… attractive she was. Brain. This is your last warning. “All right, let’s all get acquainted.” The pretty mare walked up to the whiteboard, unusually small - but then again, the whole little practice room was dreadfully small as well: six chairs and six sheet music stands, a window that did nothing to let the light in, and the whiteboard. Not even the teacher’s desk. One would think that, with all the financing RUMMS gets…

“My name is…” The mare scribbled on the whiteboard in a blue marker. Why not Lavender? The little pony in Octavia’s head complained. “Sunlight Petition.” She turned to the class with a sheepish grin. “My parents, um, liked writing petitions. But you can call me Sunlight.” The mare’s face brightened up a little, then her brows grew stern. “If you call me Petition or Ms Petition, you will never, I repeat, never pass your exam.” Then her face brightened up again. “Clear?”

Octavia gulped and nodded, seeing similar looks on the students’ faces. Crystal clear, Ms… Sunlight.

“Now,” Sunlight suggested, “why don’t you all introduce yourselves.” She pointed at Octavia. “Ladies first.”

The grey mare shifted uneasily, feeling the cello weigh on her knees painfully, something that hadn’t happened before - apart from the times when she was nervous. Which she totally was. “My name’s Octavia Philarmonica,” she addressed basically just the tutor and the harpist. “I play the cello and I’m glad to be part of this ensemble.”

“I’m Lyra Heartstrings,” Lyra said at Sunlight’s insisting gesture, “and I know everything.”

While Harpo raised his brow questioningly (Did he skip IP Law? the little pony in Octavia’s head wondered), the cyan orange-maned mare just nodded. “So I’ve heard. Well, and this is Bon-Bon, your famous marefriend, right?”

Lyra blinked while Bon-Bon merely blushed and nodded. “Bonnie is famous? Why?” She asked obliviously, sending the tutor into a short fit of laughter.

“Ah, so you don’t really know everything!” Sunlight exclaimed victoriously and threw her hoof in the air. “Ha!” She slowly opened her eyes and, seeing the deadpan looks of the ponies in the room, coughed up and blushed. “Anyway. Bon-Bon made sweets for the whole faculty and was giving them out a while ago.”

“Really?” Lyra blinked, glancing at her marefriend. “I never got any.”

“That’s because you got something else that’s sweet, that day.” Bon-Bon blushed and averted her eyes. “Um. Anyway. I’m Bon-Bon, and I play the piano.” She took a few chords, as if to prove that indeed, she did play the piano.

“My name is Harpo Parish Nadermane,” the harpist said in a thick accent, which, for some reason, brought a smile to Octavia’s lips. The accent is cute~ “And I play the harp.” The little pony in Octavia’s head danced around. The ‘arp! The ‘arp! “I came to Equestria to study Music, and I am very eager to make new friends.”

“You will,” Octavia said suddenly, even for herself. But what was wrong? Nothing was wrong. This was just a cute guy, an exchange student who wanted to make friends. So, she and Lyra and Bon-Bon and Harpo could be friends. “Can we call you Harpo?” Octavia added, just for the sake of her sentence being complete.

“Of course,” the harpist replied with a tiny smile that made Octavia want to giggle. He’s like a teddy bear! ...with a harp! The little pony put on a business suit and estimated the cost of the production of such teddy bears.

“All right!” Sunlight nodded. “Now that we’re all acquainted, let’s start with something simple. You all just play the D-major scale in unison.” She turned to Lyra and Harpo. “In your case, harp one octave lower than the lyre.”

“Gotcha.” Lyra grinned. “Ready to play some real instruments, Harpo?” she addressed the harpist with an exaggerated wink. “Everypony knows it’s easy to hold a bow or press the keys, but only we know how hard it is to pluck strings in the right way.”

“I think,” Harpo replied in an amused tone, “that your marefriend has a very angry look on her face.” His expression basically shouted, Should I be concerned? Because I am concerned.

“It’s nothing, Harpo, dear,” Bon-Bon said softly, her eyes warming up as she turned to the newest addition to the group of friends. “It’s just that I want to murder her just a little.”

Octavia raised her hoof. “I second that motion. How about right now?”

“Right now,” Sunshine interrupted the musicians, “we should really stop arguing and play the scale. Come on.” She tapped the whiteboard rhythmically. “And one, and two-”

***

Octavia sighed and walked through the corridor, her cello case on her back. Granted, she’d got used to carrying it in such a fashion, but the practice session had been tiring. Yes, Pachelbel’s canon wasn’t hard - but having to play the same tempo as everypony else was. At least Harpo was nice. Very pleasant, smiling all the time, trying his best to adjust the tempo and the volume of his playing. Why, some ponies at this faculty could be nice, which is, some ponies, quite unlike-

“Do you really think I’ll do that forever?”

Beauty. Octavia stopped dead in her tracks, hearing the mare’s voice from around the corner. The cellist immediately glued to the wall, eavesdropping on the conversation. She’s my project partner, Octavia thought, trying to excuse herself. What if she’s talking about… our project? The little pony in Octavia’s head tsked and shook her head.

“But you love him, don’t you?” the second voice came from behind the corner, sounding both bored and enquiring. “I mean, you’ve been together and-”

“I only need Frederic for three reasons.” Beauty’s voice made Octavia gasp, covering her mouth with a hoof, balancing uneasily on three legs under the weight of the cello. “A, to date a Master’s student, B, to get on Octavia’s nerves, and C, because of sex and the presents he buys me.”

Octavia shoved a hoof in her mouth, her whole body trembling of realisation and anger. How dare she! The little pony in her head put on spectacles: I always knew she wasn’t sincere. Right as she was thinking about confronting her enemy, Beauty and the mare exchanged goodbyes, and the blue earth pony emerged from behind the corner. “Oh, you.”

Octavia opened her mouth to reply, to rage, to accuse, but the brown-maned mare was already walking away. “Strawberry Street, eighteen,” she dropped without looking over her shoulder. “Tomorrow evening. We’ll work on the project ‘cause the profs are so insisting.”

Octavia watched the enemy disappear, then growled and punched the wall.

It didn’t make her feel any better.

***

“And he didn’t believe me!” Octavia stomped her hoof against the floor, walking back and forth in her bedroom. “He said I was jealous! He said I was imagining things!” She turned towards Vinyl, who was trying to put a sympathetic look on her face. “I heard that with my own ears, I run to Frederic, and then I learn that he believes her and not me?!” Octavia fumed, grabbing a pillow with her teeth and tossing it against the wall.

“Tavi, you gotta relax…” Vinyl stood up and pressed her hoof against Octavia’s back. “Just lie down and let me do the thing.” The little masseuse in Vinyl’s head out some oil on her hooves. Let uz work da magiks! “You’ve just been awfully stressed the last couple of days.”

“Stressed?” Octavia hissed, freeing herself from her marefriend’s embrace. “Oh, do I look stressed?” Vinyl took a step back. “Well, excuse me! I am paired off with my enemy, my best friend doesn’t believe me, and my marefriend-!”

“What about your marefriend, Tavi?” Vinyl asked as calmly as she could, while her voice was trembling violently. “What about me?”

“And my marefriend,” Octavia concluded bitterly, “doesn’t love me anymore, instead spending time with some sexy-ass stallion!”

“What.” Vinyl froze, eyeing her cellist dumbly. Then, a frown made its way to her face. “Tavi, are you even serious? We’re just doing a project together!”

“Oh yes?” Octavia snapped, taking a step towards the mare. “Is this why you came home at midnight yesterday? Is it why Neon followed you to our place today? Is this why you look at him the way you look at him?!”

With each accusation, Octavia took a step forth, and Vinyl took a step back. “Tavi, stop,” she said finally, brushing off the mare with her hoof. “You’re talking crazy things. Neon and I just work on the same project. And you’re being jealous.” Octavia’s eye twitched. “I can kinda get why Frederic didn’t believe you.”

Octavia opened her mouth to pour some more anger onto her DJ, but Vinyl stopped her: “Tavi, stop. Let’s just stop before we say something we’re gonna regret.” With a deep, low voice, she added, “I think I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

***

It’s all his fault! Ugh! It’s Neon who is taking my marefriend away from me! He is a… seductive seducer! And Vinyl, poor thing, she doesn’t even know she is being seduced. I am not being jealous! I am being cautious!!

And Beauty! How does she- She-! Telling me the address and just-! UGH! Diary, would you mind if I threw you against the wall? Because I certainly feel like it.

Octavia Philarmonica, BUCK THE DATE TO THE WALL

October 21st

Dear Diary,

Don’t you have this feeling when you need to do so much, and you just lie in bed all morning looking at the ceiling and trying to see what to do with your life? Of course you don’t, you are just paper. Well, I do. I did this morning.

The day when everything went wrong. But the morning was all right. In fact, it was more than all right. First of all, I apologised to Vinyl...

***

“Vinyl, I am sorry.”

Octavia looked at her hooves, not daring to look into her marefriend’s eyes. “I really am sorry.” She sighed and looked up, but away from the white mare, who was sitting on the sofa and paying heed. “I shouldn’t have felt jealous. I shouldn’t have accused you of, of… perspective adultery.” Finally, she met Vinyl’s eyes, in which misunderstanding was very much present. “Of sleeping with Neon,” the cellist clarified. “It’s been a busy few days, and, while that is no excuse, I just hope you can forgive me.”

For a moment, Vinyl remained silent, and then just tapped the spot next to her, prompting Octavia to climb onto the bed. “Tavi,” she said finally, leaning in and placing her head on Octavia’s shoulder. “I love you. I would never, ever sleep with anypony else but you.” The DJ pondered and chuckled. “Well, without you, that is. Look.” She sighed, straightening herself on the sofa and looking into Octavia’s eyes. “I get it that I may have been too enthusiastic about working with Neon. But he’s been the coolest DJ around since his teenage years, so, naturally, I kinda… like him?” Seeing fear on Octavia’s face, the spinner amended, “I mean, I don’t like him, I just like this work. We’ve never had anything but work together. If you want,” Vinyl smiled, “you can come to one of our sessions. See for yourself.”

“Thank you, Vinyl.” Octavia shook her head somberly. “But I trust you. I trust you enough to leave you alone with Neon and not have to worry about you two. I will,” she gulped, “I will overcome my jealousy. Besides,” she added, “I’m having a work session with Beauty Brass today. After classes.”

Vinyl smiled knowingly. “Classes, you say?” She winked at the grey mare as the little pony in Octavia’s head began running around in panic. “We’ve already missed two classes. Why not skip the day altogether?”

Octavia groaned and tried to get up, but Vinyl’s skilful hooves wrapped around the cellist’s shoulders. “Vinyl, you know how much I hate skipping classes!” The little pony in Octavia’s head nodded. Verily.

“Come on, Tavs!” Vinyl pressed the weight of her body against the grey mare, essentially laying Octavia onto the sofa, looming over her. “You liked skipping uni when we would just sit in our room and make out~” Vinyl nibbled on Octavia’s ear gently. “Why not repeat that today?”

“Well…” Octavia blushed, averting her eyes shamefully. “I guess we could… do… more?” she suggested in a bright, hopeful tone. “Some… tender tending, maybe?”

“Oooh~” Vinyl cooed, nuzzling her marefriend’s neck gleefully. “Somepony wants some hot sexings today!” She positioned herself over the grey mare and licked her lips hungrily. “Or, should I say… It’s time to…” Her horn glowed, and Vinyl’s spectacles were lowered slowly onto her nose. “Eat out?” Without waiting for the cellist to react, she threw her hoof in the air and yelled, “Aww yeaaaah!”

Octavia pushed the mare off her and took a deep breath. “Vinyl.” She took off her marefriend’s spectacles and put them away. “This isn’t the first time you have committed a horrible joke.” Before Vinyl could reply, she shushed the white mare. “No. First, those are spectacles, not shades. Second, that wasn’t even funny. Third, you just killed the mood.”

“Aww…” Vinyl pouted, still clinging to the cellist. “But I wanted those sexings!”

Jeffrey walked into the living room, took a single glance at the mares, sighed, and retreated back to the kitchen.

Octavia blushed and pushed Vinyl away, getting up. “Well, we’ll have to postpone the sexings till I’ve returned from Beauty’s.” Octavia scrunched her nose in disgust - which prompted a tiny ‘squee’ from the unicorn. “I still need to make time and drop by the uni.”

With that, the earth pony stood up and stretched, but, as soon as she was about to take a step in the direction of the stairwell, she found Vinyl blocking her way, glaring suspiciously. “Tavi, I thought we had agreed that we’re not going to uni today. Haven’t we?”

Before Vinyl could advance and make a scene, however, Octavia made use of the ancient ladylike art of shutting up her partner with a kiss - which was breezy, and by no means elongated, but still very and very pleasant. “Shush, you silly unicorn. I’m going there to drop by the cafeteria. The strawberry-flavoured muffins are to die for.” The little pony in Octavia’s head licked her lips readily: Mmm, strawberries…

“Oh.” Vinyl relaxed visibly. “Okay. Even though I can’t understand how you can prefer that preservative-filled food to Jeffrey’s cooking.”

“Thank you, Miss!” came Jeffrey’s voice from the kitchen. Then sounds of chopping vegetables. “It is a great solace to know that there is somepony in the house who still appreciates my cooking.”

“Jeffrey, stop being talkative,” Octavia grumbled, feeling a little guilty at her food choice. But they are strawberry-flavoured! the little pony in her head urged. The battle was lost before it had begun. “All right, Vinyl, I am going to go have some muffins, then I’ll drop by Beauty’s and then I’ll…” Octavia put the tip of her hoof against her lips and giggled. Then, she leant towards her lover and whispered something hotly in her ear.

Vinyl’s face slowly lit up with understanding and, at that, a blush covered her face gradually. “You…” She looked at her beaming cellist. “You can’t really do that… can you?”

“Oh, my dear Vinyl…” Octavia kissed the unicorn on the horn. “You know I’m just full of surprises.”

“That, I do, Tavi…” Vinyl watched the grey earth pony pick up her saddlebags and walk out of the door. “That, I do.”

***

There were several reasons why the cafeteria was always full of ponies. A more obvious reason would be a conspiracy at the dean’s office to extort as much money from the students as possible. A reason yet more obvious was that ponies got hungry eventually, and four-to-five doppelclasses a day meant that they had to eat somewhere. The reason most obvious was that only students ever went to the cafeteria, resulting in large groups of ponies skipping classes there. And, while at that, spending their bits on food. Was it not obvious why the dean’s office never really punished anypony for lack of attendance?

Octavia liked the cafeteria, but realised that, despite her family’s apparent wealth, this was a very expensive place. Being the only food-serving establishment around (any nearby restaurants had been moved away from the premises on the pleading of RUMMS’s rectorate), it was a monopolist feeding on the poor students’ budgets.

And yet, the strawberry muffins were totally worth it. Picking up the plate, Octavia drifted through the sets of square wooden tables, searching for a vacant one. Alas, there was not a single vacant table in sight. She had almost turned back to walk into the corner and wait for somepony to vacate their table, when she heard a familiar voice speaking from the corner table. “Octavia?”

The mare turned towards the source of the voice and saw Professor Dan sitting at the corner table, alone, with a plate of celery. The cellist brightened up a little, walking towards her teacher. “Hello, Professor.” She paused before putting her plate opposite him. “Um, I was looking for a table. I’d better go back before-”

“Nonsense, Octavia,” Professor Dan replied, motioning towards the empty seat opposite him. “Do sit down. I always had this problem as a uni student myself. So, welcome to the Outsiders’ Club,” Professor Dan greeted the mare with a smile as Octavia sat next to him, wincing at the lack of sitting cushions. Then again, this was a cafeteria, not a restaurant.

“I am not an outsider,” Octavia was quick to retort, “I do have friends, but they are just not here.” She blew on the tea, waiting for it to cool down enough to drink.

“Oh.” The professor’s face faded a little as he took up his celery. “Great.”

“Would you call yourself an outsider?” Octavia wondered, immediately blaming herself for speaking down to a professor. The little pony in her head tsked and placed a D on her term paper. “I mean, with all due respect, sir.”

“If I’m popular with students,” Professor Dan said, putting the awful celery down, “it does not entail that I am popular with everypony. Just today I got called a traitor by my colleagues by questioning Princess Celestia’s budget cuts.”

Octavia gasped at the impossible accusation. “But… She’s the Goddess!” the young cellist tried to make her point by placing her hoof on the table. “She raises the Sun for the glory of our beautiful land!” How can he not understand that? He’s a professor. Professors ought to be smart, and he’s saying such stupid things.

Professor Dan looked at the younger mare sadly and faked a smile. “Sure. Of course. It’s just that…” He sighed and pushed the plate of celery away. “Most ponies don’t understand it, even when they are all grown up, but Equestria does have its problems. And, while the majority of the population opt not to see them and blindly follow - and help create - the blatant propaganda, some of us see the flaws and want to fix them.” Seeing lack of understanding in Octavia’s eyes, he concluded, “It’s just that sometimes raising the sun isn’t enough to be respected. Just as somepony who is seemingly awful is not necessarily a bad pony.”

“Yeah, well, sure.” Octavia cringed at her lack of colourful vocabulary, but what Professor Dan was saying was straight treason! Princess Celestia raised the Sun! And everypony was happy in Equestria. And if somepony was sad, other ponies would make them feel better. Instead of speaking out her observations, however, she asked a question that surprised her: “Professor Dan? With your… erm, unpopular opinion, you have to deal with ponies you don’t like every day, am I right?” A sour nod from the young professor confirmed her suspicions. “How do you do that, exactly? Without losing your mind?”

Now, the professor’s smile grew more genuine than sad. “Oh, that’s easy. And rather simple. You just have to find the positive sides to them. For example, most Equestrians are racist towards griffins.” Octavia blushed, realising that, while she had never given it much thought, she tried to avoid griffin neighbourhoods in the City. “And I once had a griffin marefriend.” At Octavia’s raised brow, Professor Dan shook his head. “Don’t ask. It… worked. So I ought to be angry at all the professors who are speaking out against the ‘feathered’, as you call them.” I don’t call them that! the little pony in Octavia’s head claimed, hiding a white hood and a pitchfork. “Instead, I try to ignore that fact and try to focus on the positive aspects of their behaviour. Like the fact that they save little homeless kittens.”

Octavia blinked, unsure whether that was a joke or whether their whole faculty staff were responsible for saving dozens of poor kittens from the streets. “Well, sometimes you can’t do that… Like, I believe, sometimes you just want to up and leave?” she asked, feeling more and more like talking to an equal - a smarter equal - but not with a professor.

“Oh yes.” Professor Dan laughed light-heartedly and dragged the plate with celery back to himself, apparently finding his appetite once again. “But I have family here. Besides, it isn’t like the Crystal Empire issues residence permits for most Equestrians. This is the way life is.” Into the mouth the celery went. Octavia sighed. “Just like it’s the way your project with Beauty Brass is just part of life.” Octavia threw her head up, wide-eyed. “Oh, come on.” Professor Dan laughed. “I know you don’t really give a damn about my problems. I just needed to talk to somepony. And you need to get your flank to Beauty’s house or wherever you two are going to work, and forget your differences if you want to get a good grade.”

“I do want a good grade,” Octavia lamented as she eyed the sad emptiness on the plate, where the muffins had just been. “But I’m not sure I can work with her. She is just so- ugh!” Octavia slammed her hoof against the table, drawing no attention as the sound became drowned in the din of the cafeteria. “She looks down on my marefriend Vinyl, and she’s dating my best friend Frederic and she doesn’t even love him!”

Professor Dan’s face tried to remain calm, but his brows crawled up on their own volition. “A first-year is dating one of our best Master’s students?” He rubbed his chin. “Well, sometimes young mares date older stallions just to show off before their friends. At least that’s what I’ve seen before.”

“Yes,” Octavia agreed, “and I heard her talking with her friend about Frederic, and she doesn’t really love him.” The cellist sighed. “And, when I told Frederic about this, he didn’t believe me.”

“Yes…” Professor Dan smiled indulgently. “Now, if only there was a device that let musicians record music… and that could also be used to record somepony’s confession…” The prof laughed at how Octavia’s face immediately brightened. I’ll just leave the recording device on when I’m with her and record all she has to say about Frederic! “Though, I have to warn you that it would be blackmail and totally illegal and so on and so forth.” Professor Dan waved his hoof in the air. “But say, I didn’t know you and that prodigy from the EDM faculty were dating. I thought she was dating that Neon guy.”

“Oh no,” Octavia said with so pleasant a smile as she could possibly muster, without questioning how Professor Dan knew Vinyl and Neon, “you see, they are just working on the project together, just like me and Beauty. Only they are more… amicable.” The cellist winced at her choice of wording.

“Hmm. Just colleagues, huh?” Professor Dan rubbed his chin, and looked at Octavia sadly, as if choosing whether to say the next words or not. Finally, he decided and let out a big sigh. “I don’t know, Octavia. I would love to believe that they are just colleagues, but…”

“But what?” Octavia almost snapped, squinting her eyes.

Professor Dan sighed again and closed his eyes. “But yesterday, I was walking home from the university and saw the two of them… kissing.”

“Kissing?” Octavia’s face fell and her heart dropped to her gut. “You… Are you sure you haven’t…” Mis-seen it? “Are you sure you weren’t mistaken?”

“I don’t know,” Professor Dan replied honestly. “Do you know many unicorns with blue hair?” Glancing at his wrist, he excused himself from the table, getting up and taking up the empty plate. “I’m sorry to have been the bearer of bad news. Just don’t make rash decisions, Octavia. Hear her out, and… Why the hell am I giving out relationship advice, I’m not even married.” With that, the professor disappeared into the crowd of students.

Octavia sat there in the loud, everpresent din, and let out a deep, low, mind-shattering roar.

***

“You kissed him!”

Vinyl blinked, stepping aside to let her marefriend into the house. “Hi, Tavi…” she greeted the furious cellist, who didn’t make a single attempt to walk in. “I thought you were at Beauty’s…”

“You.” Octavia pointed at the white mare. “Kissed. Neon!” She roared, wishing that she had something to throw at the adulterous unicorn. “You didn’t even tell me! I- I apologised to you, and now it turns out I was right all along!”

“Octavia, calm down,” Vinyl spoke with an unusual soothing tone to her words. “It was an honest mistake. He kissed me, I broke the kiss and explained I was dating you. So we laughed about it and carried on.” Vinyl shrugged. “I don’t see what is wrong.”

“Oh, you laughed!” Octavia fumed, not crossing the threshold. “You kissed and you laughed and you didn’t even tell me!” She stomped her hoof against the wooden step. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you would overreact!” Vinyl replied, standing back in her initial place. “Like you are overreacting right now!” Her own irritation seemed to have simmered down, and the unicorn tried to manage a smile. “Come on, Tavi, just come in and we talk this out like adults.”

“Oh no.” Octavia shook her head furiously, the little pony in her head sliding from ear to ear. “I am not sleeping in the house with you tonight. I’ll find someplace to sleep, and you have to explain to Mom and Jeffrey why exactly I’m not coming home tonight!”

“Tavi, wait!” Vinyl tried, but the grey mare had already slammed the door in Vinyl’s face and ran away, tears in her eyes.

***

“Ah, if this isn’t Octavia Philarmonica!”

Octavia looked at the mare in a dull fashion and stepped over the threshold. “I would make a witty remark but I’m too worn out and not-caring to do that.” She looked over the living room, into which she had just stepped. The planning of the house seemed to mimic the planning of her own, only this one seemed significantly smaller. “One would think, with your wealth, you would be living in a mansion.”

“I did live in a mansion,” Beauty replied acidly, closing the door and turning to face the grey mare. “But my family decided I’m old enough to have a house of my own and bought me this one. It’s small, but it’s cosy.” The mare’s cheeks lit up with a subtle hint of a blush, which Octavia did notice, even despite her condition. “All right. Are we going to make music or what?” She eyed Octavia skeptically. “I don’t own a cello, and I don’t think you could fit one in your saddlebags.

“I’m sorry.” Octavia sighed and took off her saddlebags, placing them in the corner of the living room. “I left it at home. I was… in a rush when I went here.”

“Well,” Beauty suggested reasonably, “you can always go back home and take your cello. Don’t be stupid,” she added unnecessarily, as if not to lose face in front of herself.

“I can’t.” Octavia paused, guessing whether to speak out her mind or not. On the one hoof, this was Beauty Brass; on the other hoof… Did she give a damn? “I had a big quarrel with Vinyl. A really big one,” the cellist repeated to give her word the much needed gravity. “So I can’t really return.

“Oh.” Beauty looked aside. There was a touch of a weird feeling in Octavia’s chest that told her the mare wanted to say something else, but she, being the polite - albeit distressed - cellist that she was, remained silent.

Well, not quite silent.

“Where’s the snappy remark about me and Vinyl?” Octavia wondered, trotting towards the sofa and sitting on its corner without asking. Like I give a damn, the little pony in her head swore. “Where’s that smug grin that makes me want to murder you at first sight?” she carried on without really choosing her wording.

“Oh shut the fuck up,” Beauty swore, collapsing in a chair in the corner. “I’ve had a bad day.” Catching Octavia’s unamused glance, she elaborated, “I had a row with Frederic.”

“Good.” Octavia nodded sternly. “You don’t deserve him. I heard what you were saying about him.” The little pony in her head nodded in approval. When in Roam, do whatever you want because the Roamans are sleeping with your best friend.

“Maybe.” Beauty shrugged, hiding her feelings masterfully, making Octavia wonder if she could learn a thing or two from her nemesis. “Or maybe I was on the road to love.” The mare took a cup of tea from the little glass table and took a sip.

“I don’t think you are capable of love,” Octavia said honestly, finding no sympathy for the devil inside her.

Beauty glared at her, striking Octavia with a look that was terribly pained, and evil, and true. “You know nothing, Octavia Philarmonica.” The blue mare stood up, putting the tea back. “If you haven’t taken your cello, we can at least work on the sheet music. Or are you too thick to hear the music in your head when you see the notes?”

Octavia smirked. “Now, that’s more like the Beauty I know.” And love, the little pony in her head supplied. You wanted to say ‘know and love’. Another little pony in her head retorted, And hate. That’s what she wanted to say. Octavia blinked the strange ponies away.

“What’s your drink of choice?” Beauty Brass called out from the kitchen. “If you do drink at all.” The clinking of glasses that followed told Octavia Beauty assumed that she did drink at all.

“Anything that burns is fine,” Octavia called out without getting up from the sofa. Her soul smelt of burnt resin and was darker than a zebra’s stripes. The mare sighed and got up, trotting into the kitchen. After all, drinking made things better, not worse. Right?

Anything goes, the little pony in her head sang as the two mares sat at table together. Anything goes.

***

“With all due respect, Octavia…” Beauty hiccupped, lying on the bed next to the grey mare. “A G-sharp will not go there, I assure you.” She took the pencil and erased the note.

Immediately, Octavia took up her pencil and put the G-sharp in its rightful place. “With all due respect, Beauty, you are a moron. A G-sharp will be perfect here.” With that, she decided that it was not enough, and poked Beauty’s belly. “Also, you’re chubby.”

“You are chubby.” Beauty pressed her lips against Octavia’s belly suddenly and blew it. The grey mare laughed in convulsions. “That’s what you get for calling me chubby, you… accursed… accuser.”

“Oh shut up!” Octavia rolled over, finding herself on top of the blue mare, to her own surprise. “I’m not… Not a… whatever I am in your view.”

For a moment, the two mares lay in silence. Then Beauty asked quietly, “Octavia, is this the point where we have an awkward kiss and I begin to question my sexuality and you have to apologise before Vinyl?”

Octavia paused, considering the option. The little pony in her head shrugged and disappeared behind a Do Not Disturb sign. “Nah. No.” She rolled back, making the vocalist exhale. “This is the point where we stop tinkering with the music and write some lyrics.”

“Octavia,” Beauty replied very seriously. “You’re drunk. Go home. This is the point where we don’t make stupid drunken lyrics. This is the point where you go home and I go to bed.”

Octavia sighed and shook her head, not getting up from the bed. “This is the point where I tell you that I am not coming home tonight and that I’ll probably have to stay at your place.”

Beauty tried to push the grey mare off, but didn’t succeed. “This is the point where I remind you that we are enemies, not friends.”

Octavia yawned and pulled the blanket over herself, closing her eyes. “This is the point where I tell you we’re both too drunk to care so you’ll let me sleep in your bed because your sofa is too soft.”

Beauty yawned as well and flicked off the lights, throwing the sheet music to the floor. “This is the point where I agree.”

***

So… This totally happened. I’ve just woken up, it’s night, and I’m in Beauty’s bed. I’m still a little drunk so I can’t really write an elaborate entry. One thing I’m certain of, Diary:

I’m seriously going to regret this tomorrow.

Octavia Philarmonica, October 21st

February 32rd

As per the norm, Octavia Philarmonica woke up completely covered in bitches. With a sigh, the lean, wise, and startlingly sexy mare shrugged Beauty Brass off her chest, then proceeded to repeat the procedure regarding Lyra, Bon-Bon, and, of course, Vinyl. Putting on her all-around awesome shades of awesomeness, Octavia prepared herself for a new day.

As any day, her faithful servant Jeffrey was right there, providing a non-alcoholic beverage that helped the young hero with her hangovers, which were also awesome and generally all-around repeatable. Accepting the vial with the sacred orange juice, Octavia headed to the outside.

In the wake of her trot down the street, the expected gasps and shrieks of awe and delight followed suit. A few mares collapsed in orgasmic convulsions upon seeing Octavia raise her brow at them. The heiress of the Philarmonico clan directed her hooves towards University.

Once inside, she headed to the dean’s office, waving her hoof at peasant professors pledging their allegiance to her and students fainting at the mere sight of the genius composer, multiinstrumentalist, producer, bandleader, orchestra conductor, ensemble manager, and, of course, peanut butter inventor, also known as the pony who first used rum for anything but disinfecting wounds, thus creating a drink of solace for everypony to relish.

“Sup,” speaketh Octavia the Noble and Awesome upon stepping into the lair of the Dean. The secretary gulped and looked at Octavia with longing. Of course, like all the mares in Equestria, she desired for Octavia to seize her and sex her with hot, unbearable sexings just for one night. But Octavia the Awesome Sexer was too busy saving the world to pay attention to charmed peasants.

“Oh Octavia the Mighty!” pleaded the secretary, falling onto her knees before the glory of the Mare. “Please accept this small offering as a token of our eternal gratitude to you!” With that, she extended her hoof with a bottle of best rum there was to find in that realm.

Octavia accepted the gift with calm humility, like only an awesome mare like her would; and drank the rum immediately, savouring the taste. She smacked her lips and licked them, pondering, while the secretary shook in fear. “That’ll do,” was Octavia’s verdict, and she motioned for the secretary mare to stand up. “I hear my expertise is needed here. What do you need me to do?”

“We merely beg, oh Octavia,” the secretary began, “to deal with our archenemy Professor Dan the Dank. He has barricaded the chair room, and nopony can enter. He is shouting something about intellectual property on Haylet, and evokes fear in all of us.”

“Fear not,” quoth the godly maid and finisheth the rum gladly in one gulp. “I will deal with it. For I have come here to drink rum and kick flanks, and I am all outta of rum.”

With that, Octavia left the Dean’s office, moving across the corridor towards the chair hall - but lo and behold! Dan the Dank’s voice roared across the university: “You shall never have me alive! Haylet will never be in public domain!”

With that, the floor became lava. But Octavia the Dankest knew them dank tricks and immediately grabbed a chair out of thin air, making several students faint and the others, well, boil in lava. Oh well. “Stupid Dan!” laughed our hero, riding her chair (which she had breathed life in easily). “Everypony knows that lava can’t touch you if you don’t touch the floor!”

She reached the chair room and broke the door with a forceful kick, storming inside. “Haylet!” She kicked the living shit out of the Dank. “Will not!” She launched the evil stallion to the Sun. “Be subject to copyright!”

The floor became normal again and all the ponies came rushing to Octavia and Lyra and Bon-Bon and Vinyl and especially Beauty praised the hero and she said she was tired so they all locked up in the chair room and then they had sex.

The end.

***

Dear Diary,

I really hope nopony sees my fanfic. Especially Frederic! Oh, I should burn it… But how can I, when it is such a degree of perfection? And when it is about the most perfect mare, who would, maybe, some day, pay me a fleeting glance, and see me for what I am… Oh Diary! I love her so, and I just can’t tell her! She would never love me back… One can only dream.

And write fanfics.

Beauty Brass

October 22nd

Dear Diary,

I am a fixer! I am the best fixer pony in all of Equestria! Who’s a fixer mare? I’m a fixer mare! Who can fix all of her problems? This mare right here! You may wonder how I manage to be so cool, Diary, and I have a reply: because I’m the Awesomare! Rivalry with Beauty? Tame and laughable. Relationship issues with Vinyl? Psh, all in the past! An F because of skipped test? ...Well, screw it anyway!

Because I am - nananananana - Batma- and I can’t really say that.

***

“We’re not going to talk about it.”

Octavia took a sip of tea, feeling like a lady of the highest calibre, while the little pony in her head sipped on her own little cup of tea, holding a monocle. Quite. Another little pony peeked in curiously. “Quite” what? Octavia blinked, wondering what the hell was wrong with her mind. “Not gonna talk about what?” she asked as innocently as she could, shooing the little ponies in her head away before they started making out.

“About you sleeping with me,” Beauty replied sternly, looking at her orange juice with a sour expression. “If you ever want to finish this project with me, we’re not going to talk about last night.” With that, the mare reached for the glass and drank the juice greedily.

“Pickle brine,” Octavia suggested, catching a glance of the hostess’s dismayed condition. “It really does help against hangovers.” She took one more sip of the tea, feeling quite all right. Am I getting so used to drinking that I no longer have hangovers?..

Beauty looked at her in disbelief, her eyes spelling out, Why are you helping me? Still, the hostess nodded slowly, probably making a mental check on the list of her hangover cures. “Thank you.”

“Beauty, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Octavia began, fishing out her diary from her saddlebag, suspicion and interest crawling upon her in equal proportions. “A page from my diary is missing and-”

“I didn’t read it!” Beauty blurted out, her eyes shifting from Octavia to the diary. “I just took a page for, uh, for writing down sheet music.” The blue mare nodded resolutely. “Oh yes, I wrote, uh, some sheet music and tore it, sorry for that.”

“Oh.” Octavia put the diary back in its rightful place. “So…” She smiled knowingly. “If I ask to take a look at that sheet music…”

“No.”

Octavia nodded, her eyes shining with laughter and understanding. “But of course.” Yes, tell yourself you didn’t like it! the little pony in her head proclaimed. Didn’t like what? the other little pony blinked. “Shall we go to uni?”

“Together?” Beauty’s face quickly gained a very rosy tint. “You and me, go to uni, together?” she clarified, drawing circles with her hoof on the table. “Uh, I mean, with such a nerd! And, and- uh!” She waved her hoof, looking away from the grey mare.

The cellist just shrugged. “We could leave your house with a half-hour interval and pretend we never met last night, or we could be mature about this and just walk to uni like two ponies who are partners.”

“P-partners?” Beauty held her breath, then released it. “Of course. I’m the senior partner here, obviously.”

“No doubt about that,” Octavia said with a smile. “So, we gonna be mature about it and walk to uni together?”

***

Well, having to leave half an hour early not to be seen with Beauty wasn’t that bad, Octavia had to admit. She had enough time to walk along the empty corridors of the university and see portraits of different composers and honour students who later became prominent musicians.

Not meeting Vinyl was also nice. Octavia had no idea how to feel about the whole ordeal. On the one hoof, she was still angry at Vinyl for that kiss. On the other hoof, she silently realised that it wasn’t Vinyl’s fault, and that she, Octavia, had probably overreacted. Nah, you didn’t, the little pony in Octavia’s head assured her.

What was not nice was seeing the results of yesterday’s test. Which she had skipped. And for which she had got an F - which, again, was not surprising, considering that she had skipped the test.

Octavia groaned and stared at the paper pinned to the dean’s office information stand. Conflicting emotions washed over her: she was confused, for she had been sure she would be given an option to rewrite the test at some other date; she was a little scared, both for getting her first F and because of the possible reaction from her mother and especially Jeffrey; and she was calm enough, maybe because she was thinking about Vinyl, and it didn’t really matter what grades she was getting after all all of this wasn’t necessary if she couldn’t have Vinyl by her side she needed to find her and apologise for good and talk out the situation and was she hyperventilating?

Octavia stumbled into the bathroom, immediately reaching the sink and looking at her reflection in the mirror, her head spinning. I really need to get a hold of myself. She turned on the tap and washed her face with cold water, feeling slightly better.

“Tavi?”

Octavia jerked up, closing the tap swiftly, as if she was doing something shameful. Vinyl was standing before her, looking at her with those sad magenta eyes. “Vinyl…” Octavia whispered, taking a step back, letting the unicorn to the sink.

“How has it been,” Vinyl asked quietly, looking at their reflections in the mirror, addressing Octavia’s reflection, “sleeping far away from home?”

“Better than sleeping with an adulterer,” Octavia blurted out, taking a defensive position, feeling it easier to look at her lover’s reflection than looking at her directly. What the hell am I saying? I wanted to make up with her!

“Do you have any idea,” Vinyl squinted her eyes, “how worried your mother was? How worried Jeffrey was? How worried I was?” She turned on the tap and washed her face slowly, expecting the reply.

“Vinyl…” Octavia shook her head, trying to avoid being blamed. “You and Neon kissed, and you didn’t tell me.” She tried to adopt a non-chiding, but rather an explanatory tone. “It’s not about you two kissing, it’s about you not being honest with me.”

“Oh!” Vinyl turned round, the brows on her face furrowing. “Being honest? Well, be honest with me, where did you spend last night?” Vinyl took a step forth, making Octavia counter the advancement with a step of her own.

“I was at Beauty’s!” Octavia replied, hoping that this alibi was self-explanatory. “See? I am honest. You aren’t!”

“At Beauty’s?!” Vinyl practically shrieked, taking another step, closing up on Octavia, their muzzles only a few centimetres from each other. “So you counter my mistake by fucking your arch-enemy?!”

“What?!” Octavia spat in shock, taking a step back, retreating from the battle. “I didn’t-! I was just spending the night! And you do realise it was your mistake, huh?”

“Octavia, you are unbelievable!” Vinyl growled, her hoof hitting her forehead just below the horn. “You are muttering something about Beauty and Neon and mistakes when you had your whole family worried about you, and you didn’t even try to tell us where you were and- and!” Vinyl groaned, taking another step towards Octavia. “I wish I could hit the stupid out of you!”

“Well!” Octavia growled back, her heart racing, her head dizzy. At the same time, she knew this was the time to apologise and back down, but sheer inertia was making her go on. Inertia? the little pony in her head enquired. Or is it your own agitation? “Maybe you should hit me! Adulterer and domestic abuser? Why the hell not?”

Vinyl stopped, and looked straight into Octavia’s eyes. The cellist breathed heavily, and could not decipher the emotion in those eyes, but she knew, right then, that she was wrong, that she could never be right before those eyes, that she could only try to be right, but that didn’t matter, because those eyes demanded honesty and love, not righteousness, and she loved those eyes, yes, she…

Vinyl slapped her across the face with a hoof, hard enough for Octavia to yelp.

The cellist lifted her head, looking at the white unicorn in disbelief. Yes, the slap was well-deserved, but… “V-Vinyl?..”

The white unicorn grabbed Octavia’s head and kissed her, deeply, passionately, like she’d never kissed her before. Octavia submitted meekly, feeling Vinyl’s tongue conquering her mouth like the rightful queen that was meant to rule over her, and was Vinyl pressing her against the wall? “Vinyl…”

The spinner broke the kiss and began to nuzzle Octavia beneath the ear, proceeding to peck her neck, showering her with tiny kisses of love and affection. Octavia sighed and relaxed into the embrace, for Vinyl was holding her tight, and why did she stop?, oh, she was leading her somewhere, waltzing her towards one of the cubicles, and inside, and closing the door behind them, why would she close the door behind them?

In a moment, as Vinyl lowered herself, kissing Octavia’s torso lower and lower, the cellist understood everything.

***

“I’m sorry, Vinyl.”

Octavia nuzzled into her lover’s embrace, lying awkwardly on Vinyl’s foreleg in their bed. “I’m so sorry. Let’s just be entirely honest with each other from now on.” She lifted her head hopefully. “Please, let’s just tell the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help us Celestia!”

“Okay, Tavi,” Vinyl said quietly, ruffling Octavia’s hair with her hoof. “It’s just that…” She sighed and shut her eyes. “After Melody, I’d never really had any friends, anypony I could be around, and it would feel easy and good… No,” she shushed the grey mare, “Let me finish. We’re not having sex so let me finish for once.” As Octavia’s face reddened extremely (while the little pony in her head drew a protest sign), Vinyl continued: “I mean, I have you, but it’s different. I love you, but I love you in… in a hot way, I guess. I want you. It’s different with Lyra and Bon-Bon too. They have each other, and… Look,” Vinyl sighed, “I really think Neon is a guy I can make friends with. I feel easy around him. I laugh at his jokes, and I like him without feeling attraction to him. I feel like this, this may be what I need after, well, after all those…” She gulped. “After all that time before I met you,” she finished lamely, but received a kiss on the cheek for trying.

“Love, I don’t doubt you now,” Octavia spoke earnestly, nuzzling into Vinyl’s armpit. “It’s just that I fear… I fear that it is Neon who has a view on you.” Vinyl chuckled. “What? Don’t mock me, I still think he only chose you because of your good looks!”

Vinyl burst out in laughter, her body wrecking with tiny laughsobs. “Oh, Octavia, that’s rich!”

“What?” Octavia huffed, tracing Vinyl’s side with a hoof. “He just saw you for the lean, sexy mare that you are and he, and he…”

“And he really didn’t.” Vinyl kept smiling at the silly mare. “Honestly, Octavia, haven’t you figured out?”

“What?” Octavia blinked dumbly.

Vinyl kissed Octavia on the forehead. “Neon’s blind.”

Octavia’s hoof had never hit her face so hard.

***

Okay, I am officially a stupid pony. I mean, I know I am not a clever pony, but I never thought I was a stupid pony. Okay, enough of that. Let’s see what we have achieved:

Apologised before Vinyl? Check.

Accepted Vinyl’s apology about slapping me? Check.

Cried in front of Mom and Jeffrey and begged for forgiveness like the little foal that I am? Check.

Kind of resolved the issue with Neon? Check.

Beauty doesn’t hate me as much as she used to? Erm. Kinda check. Even though Beauty sounds weird. And why the hay would she take a page from my diary?

She probably drew a penis or something. Ugh.

Well! An F for a test, how about that. And somehow I don’t feel bad about it. I mean, I dropped at the dean’s office and they told me this test can’t be rewritten… And I kinda realise that it may influence my future grades and my future with this university… But frankly?

I don’t give a buck.

Because I am by Vinyl’s side, and I love her, and she loves me, and I’ll wake up to the sound of Mom singing and see Jeffrey cooking - and there is nothing that can match this feeling.

A rather content Octavia, October 22nd

October 30th

Dear Diary,

Sorry for not writing in you (should I say, ‘to you’?) for a week, but it hasn’t been a particularly interesting week. Some university stuff; going out for a drink with Lyra and Bon-Bon on Wednesday; a little tension between me and Vinyl…

But, with Vinyl’s idea, the tension should go away. Yes, I am actually making an entry not just because it’s Friday, but because Vinyl has suggested a genius idea. Yes, I know. Vinyl and ‘genius’ don’t really go hoof in hoof, but, believe me, this time it’s different.

We were having dinner, and then she made the suggestion…

***

“Why don’t we go on a weekend trip to the Crystal Empire?”

Octavia coughed up the salad, casting a curious (and more than a little bedazzled) look at her marefriend. Jeffrey gently tapped the young mistress on the back.

Eleanore stopped eating and put down her fork, smiling at her daughter’s lover. “Why, Vinyl, this is a wonderful idea. I haven’t been there in ages. Have you, Jeffrey?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jeffrey replied with a stoic expression on his muzzle. “I have been there recently.” He hoofed the salad to the white unicorn, who, after making the suggestion, happily dug into the food again.

Octavia blinked, casting a side glance at the valet. “When?”

“We butlers have mastered the art of four-dimensional existence,” Jeffrey explained calmly, pouring some more lemonade to the young mare. “It is easier than it sounds.”

Octavia’s mouth fell slightly agape. You what, mate? the little pony in her head enquired dumbly. “Ah.” She smiled, nodding at the older pony. “I get it. Butler jokes.”

“Yes…” Jeffrey squinted his eyes and rose from his place to get the desserts. “Jokes…”

“I didn’t mean all of us.” Vinyl chewed on the food and swallowed it before carrying on. “I mean, Miss Philarmonica, you are very cool, because you let me live here and eat and sleep and also have sex with your daughter-” Octavia cleared her throat very audibly, glaring at the white mare, while Eleanore just smiled. “Um, what I mean is, I thought this would be a nice romantic holiday for Tavi and I.”

“For Tavi ‘and me’,” Octavia corrected automatically, taking a sip of her lemonade. I like this drink! the little pony in her head exclaimed, throwing her glass on the ground. Another!

“No.” Vinyl blinked. “You are the Tavi. So for you and me, that’s what I mean.”

Octavia groaned, shaking her head in extreme grammatical disapproval. The little pony in her head put on a uniform and took a riding crop. You think grammar is a bucking game? Again, Octavia marvelled at the entity apparently populating her mind.

“I understand, dear,” Eleanore addressed the white mare with a weak smile. “But I do not feel like the Crystal Empire is the place to go on a romantic holiday.” She exchanged a knowing look with Jeffrey. “Maybe… go somewhere else?”

“Why?” Vinyl asked curiously. “The Crystal Empire is just four hours away by train, and I know it’s pretty cold there, but we’ll pack warm clothes.”

“It’s not that…” Eleanore sighed, looking at Jeffrey. “Jeffrey, maybe you can explain?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The butler nodded primly. “The issue, miss Vinyl,” he addressed the DJ, “is that the Crystal citizens are not particularly… keen on some peculiarities of the character that you and young miss share.”

Vinyl blinked, then looked hopelessly at Jeffrey, then Octavia, then Eleanore. “My brain hurts,” she lamented. “I think Jeffrey broke it. Can I have it replaced? Oh!” The pony brightened up. “Maybe I can become a robopony! Or an android!”

Octavia looked at her marefriend very flatly while the little pony in her head whipped the riding crop against her leg to test it. Leave her to me. “Jeffrey means-” Octavia began, used to explaining things to her lover, but stumbled over the wording as well. “Uhm. What exactly does Jeffrey mean, Mom?”

“He means,” Eleanore said softly, “that, in the Crystal Empire, your orientation is… frowned upon, to say the least.” Octavia looked at her mother curiously. “Yes, it may sound weird for your generation, but there are still places that do not exactly accept same-sex couples.”

“But why?” Vinyl enquired, making the little pony in Octavia’s head put on a lab coat. “What’s wrong with me and Tavi just walking together like marefriends. It’s not like we kiss in the streets or-” A very loud cough from Octavia followed. “What I mean is, we never kissed in the streets,” Vinyl quickly finished her lie.

“Because of historic, religious, and sociopolitical reasons, Miss,” Jeffrey explained in a neutral tone. “Maybe for the same reasons we don’t particularly like the… feather population.”

Vinyl blinked in surprise. “We don’t?” She looked at Octavia, who nodded.

“Of course we don’t, Vinyl, they are griffins,” the cellist explained patiently, as if to a slow foal. Isn’t that self-obvious? “Why they would hate same-sex couples, though, is what eludes me…” The cellist shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. It isn’t banned by law, so we’re going there,” Octavia said with determination.

Eleanore sighed, shaking her head but knowing very well it was pointless to argue with her daughter. “Okay, sweetie. But please be careful. I don’t want to see you beaten up or in custody.”

“Mom.” Octavia waved her hoof. “I am the most cautious mare ever.” Oh really? The little pony in her head crossed her hooves sternly. “We won’t really show affection in public, right, Vinyl?” The unicorn nodded with a shrug. “We’re just gonna see the sights, enjoy the weather.”

“Speaking about the weather,” Jeffrey remarked, putting the cake on the table finally, and cutting it into eight perfect slices, “it is rather cold in the Crystal Empire, so I suggest that young Miss and Miss Vinyl take their warmest clothes.” He glanced at Octavia. “In young Miss’s case, that would be the pink sweater, the one with the unicorn.”

Octavia flushed furiously, looking away from the party, wondering whether she had offended Jeffrey somehow or if it was a genuine recommendation. Butlers are not supposed to mock mistresses! the little pony princess in her head confirmed. They are supposed to give mistresses a lot of sweets and alcohol. Especially alcohol!

“Unicorn master race,” Vinyl whispered to herself with a firm, resolute nod. “Well, I’m so glad you’re up for the idea, because I already booked the tickets.” Vinyl took a slice of the cake and dug in joyfully.

“You did what?” Octavia stared at the spinner, while Eleanore placed a slice of cake on her own plate with a small smile and Jeffrey remained as adamant as ever. “Vinyl, what happened to asking and talking it out with me? And Mom? And Jeffrey, for that matter?”

“Please do not include me in this, Miss,” Jeffrey replied stoically, taking his place at the table and putting a slice of cake on Octavia’s plate.

“I just thought this would be cool to go on a romantic holiday at the weekend.” Vinyl’s eyes fell a little sad at the thought that her plan might be rejected. “I mean, sure, we won’t be able to make out in the streets and what-not-” Octavia coughed very loudly. “But we could see all the awesome museums and concert halls and nature!”

Octavia sighed and rubbed her eyelids with her hoof slowly. “Okay.” She looked up at Vinyl with a smile. “What date did you buy the tickets for?”

Vinyl’s face brightened up immediately, giving Octavia a surge of joy at seeing her marefriend so happy. “Today! The train leaves in two hours!” Vinyl cleaned her mouth with the back of her hoof. “So we better pack out things, or we’ll be late!”

Octavia stared at her marefriend for a long, long while. Then, she turned towards Eleanore. “Mom, if I kill Vinyl right now, will you help me hide the body?”

“Hey!” Vinyl called out, visibly offended. “I’m a vegan, and I’m offended!”

Octavia blinked back at her. “Vinyl, we are ponies. We are all vegans.”

“Nope.” Vinyl shook her head. “We are vegetarians. Seriously, Tavi, that’s some offensive things you’re saying. You really should go through some political correctness training.”

Eleanore snickered, shaking her head in a ‘those fillies’ manner and got back to her food. Octavia fumed, trying to say something bold and at the same time not offensive to her marefriend. “Well,” she decided, “I bucked political correctness against the wall!” Are there any political correctness warriors in the audience tonight? the little pony in her head asked, taking two hammers and making a cross with them. Get them up against the wall!

“A very noble move, Miss,” Jeffrey remarked, finally taking a piece of cake for himself. “May I suggest that you pack your possessions after this meal in order not to be late for the train?”

“Yes…” Octavia sighed and put her plate away. “Let’s do just that.”

***

“And then I’ll write a book about us living in the Crystal Empire in the Thirties, when filly-fooling was illegal, and there’ll be a lot of jazz, and I’ll be a jazz pianist and I’ll call it The Snow on-”

Octavia pressed her lips against Vinyl’s, effectively silencing the silly unicorn. Vinyl melted into the kiss, leaning onto the standing mare from her plank at the train. “Mmm, Tavi…” the unicorn purred, nuzzling the grey mare’s cheek. “You were always the best kisser.”

Better than Neon? the little pony in Octavia’s head asked. Octavia told that little pony to go buck herself with a stick. “Mmm, you’re passable too,” the cellist remarked and giggled. “Saaay…” She wiggled her brow, crawling onto Vinyl’s plank bed. “Since we can’t really show affection in the Crystal Empire, and we still have three hours of this night ride…” She licked her lips and rolled onto Vinyl, pinning her to the bed.

“Mmm,” Vinyl replied, grinning widely and taking off her spectacles. “Yes… Three hours.” She flicked off the lights. “That would let us do it…” She calculated, then grinned in the dark. “About eighteen times.”

“Vinyl!”

***

Okay, so we did it. And it was good. But what is better is watching the moon while riding on the train. Have you ever been on a midnight train, Diary? Of course you have, what a stupid question. You are here with me. But when the darkness envelops the land, and the moon is peeking through the clouds, and you ride slowly through the beautiful, lovely plains of Equestria, you don’t just feel a certain pride for your country. You feel like you belong here.

The visit might be nice, but it might be dreadful. But what fills me with determination is that we will return to Equestria. To Mom. To Jeffrey. To Lyra and Bon-Bon. Because I guess, it’s nice to go travelling.

But it’s oh so nicer to come home.

A quite content Octavia, October 30th

October 31st

Dear Diary,

Of course we fell asleep on the train. And waking up at two in the morning is not an entirely pleasant experience. Of course, there was still excitement at arriving at a new place, but this excitement was greatly mitigated by our mutual exhaustion.

Thankfully, we didn’t have to walk much through the busy (and dangerous!) night streets, for the train station was close to the city centre… and we felt cheated. I mean, I expected rustic houses made of crystal and, I guess, ponies made of crystals? But the only thing different about the ponies is their eyes, and I’m not just talking about the shape or the way they light up in the darkness (creepy!): I am talking about how dull they were, the very few ponies we’d met on our way to the hotel. It feels as if King Sombra doesn’t really know what’s best for his citizens. But, on the other hoof, he is widely praised here, from what I gather, for saving the economy and for his restorative works in the capital.

I guess that crystal houses only exist on the outskirts because we haven’t seen a single one! It’s just skyscrapers, all over the city centre, just like in Manehattan or Los Pegasus. Thankfully, one of those skyscrapers was a hotel…

***

“Why have sixty floors in a hotel?” Vinyl wondered, letting Octavia through the glass doors. “I mean, how many ponies actually visit the Crystal Empire at this time of the year?” She shivered and shook off the snow that had fallen onto her sweater and scarf. “I wish we wore pants,” she grunted, walking with Octavia to the counter.

“Good… evening?” Octavia greeted the receptionist mare, a blue unicorn whose face immediately wrapped itself up in a perfect smiley expression. “We need a room for me and for… uh, for my… uh…” Octavia paused, blushing uneasily, and looked at Vinyl hopelessly. The “not showing our relationship” plan was not working at the start. Should she say for her and her “friend”? Or should she take the risk and hope they are given a room? Octavia began sweating, though it might be because of the sudden change in temperatures.

“We need a room for Tavi and I,” Vinyl explained brightly, all the while avoiding using any definitive nouns. She grinned smugly at her blushing marefriend with a quite victorious look in her eyes.

“Oh no you don’t.” Octavia’s embarrassment died out of extinction as soon as she heard the offending words. “It’s ‘Tavi and me’. Do you say ‘For I’? No you don’t.” Octavia stomped her hoof against the floor. “You say ‘for me’. It’s the same is such a sentence. We are not the subject of the sentence, so it’s ‘for Tavi and me’!”

A thin, minute silence washed over the lobby before the receptionist mare cleared her throat audibly. “How many nights will you be spending with us?”

“Just a night,” Vinyl chimed in, visibly unperturbed by the lecture. “We’ll be off on our train Sunday evening.”

“That would actually be two nights,” the receptionist mare answered, smiling uneasily at having to upset her customers. “It is merely two in the morning, and I believe you would like to spend this night in our hotel as well.”

“Oh, sure.” Vinyl laughed naturally, making Octavia marvel at how she wasn’t ashamed or anyhow embarrassed at being corrected. Her social skills are indeed better than mine. “Two nights it is!”

“Okay,” the receptionist brightened up, taking out a calculator. “Two nights in a standard room, two single beds…”

Octavia looked at Vinyl in panic. Two single beds? That meant that they wouldn’t be able to sleep together for two nights, feel each other’s warmth, nuzzle and hug until they fell asleep… But at the same time they couldn’t order a room with one double bed because...

Vinyl caught the glance at once and cleared her throat. “We were thinking more of a room with two double beds,” she suggested to the receptionist. “We love comfort, and, frankly, a single bed is never enough.”

Octavia chuckled, feeling much more at ease now that the receptionist nodded with a smile and began to recalculate. “That’s just because you’re chubby, Vinyl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Vinyl waved her hoof in the air. “Your words don’t wound me.”

“Of course!” Octavia snickered. “Nothing can wound through that layer of fat.” She poked Vinyl’s belly, giggling.

The receptionist smiled, because, apparently, it was all right for two young friends to act this way, as long as they didn’t break the adamant moral code of the Empire. “That would be two hundred bits. A hundred each.”

Vinyl grumbled a little at the price, but reminded herself that this way a classy five-star hotel for classy posh ponies, and that their room was supposed to be even classier and more posh. Meanwhile, Octavia fished out the bag of bits and took out two pouches, a hundred bits each.

The receptionist mare smiled and accepted the money. “Here are your keys.”

***

“Brr! It’s cold!” Vinyl took off her scarf as soon as the two ponies entered the small cafe. The ponies inside glanced at them with their weird, shining eyes - which were still so painfully dull - and diverted their attention back to their food and drinks.

The two mares quickly walked towards a small empty table by the window, taking off their caps but remaining in their sweaters. After all, it wasn’t significantly hotter here inside. “Yes, quite cold,” Octavia agreed as the waitress, a cyan mare with a tasty-looking pink mane, arrived at the spot. “Didn’t think it was this cold in the Crystal Empire…”

“Oh!” The waitress brightened up, placing the menu before the mares. “You two are tourists, from Equestria, no less?” Receiving nods from Octavia, who smiled back politely, and Vinyl, who immediately opened the menu, the waitress clopped her hooves together, remaining in a weird back-leg-stand. “That’s wonderful! Let me give you a ten percent tourist discount.”

“Thank you.” Octavia lowered the intensity of her smile and opened the menu. “I think we’ll need tea, or coffee, or hot chocolate, because it is really cold outside and-”

“How about vodka?” the waitress suggested. Vinyl’s ears immediately perked up. “Round here, we warm up by drinking vodka. And it’s cheap!”

“Is it pure Stalliongrad vodka?” Vinyl wondered, immediately interested.

“Better!” The waitress brightened up visibly. “It’s local Crystal Moonshine, ready to warm you up from the first drop!” she said, as if reciting an advertisement. Though, Octavia thought, advertising moonshine had to be a special, advanced level of stupid…

“Give us two!” Vinyl immediately proposed, without actually consulting her marefriend.

Octavia sighed and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“Come on, Tavi,” Vinyl urged as soon as the waitress walked away, “After all, what’s the worst that-”

“No!” Octavia hissed, “don’t say that! You know that if you finish that sentence-”

“-could happen?”

Octavia sighed. “We’re doomed.”

***

“Come on, Vinyl, let’s make out just a little!” Octavia begged, leaning on her marefriend as Vinyl slowly but steadily made her way towards the hotel. The grey mare grabbed the unicorn by the waist and tried to draw her in. “Come! On! Less juss make out in the streets…”

Despite Vinyl’s semidrunken attempt to evade the assault, Octavia attacked her lips with hers sloppily, embracing the white unicorn. The kiss lasted for seconds, and Octavia, with her eyes closed, didn’t have a care in the world as she lost herself in the sensation.

“Stop right there, you criminal scum!”

Octavia’s eyes shot wide open as Vinyl broke the kiss and pushed her away. The cellist had some difficulty with standing still, but decided that slight shaking from side to side was all right and acceptable. “W- What the-” she began, seeing the very angry policepony standing before them and huffing into his moustache. “What law did we break?” she formed the idea coherently enough for herself to be proud.

“Propaganda of homosexual relationships, including visual propaganda, is forbidden.” The policepony advanced on the two, taking out his gun. “You either pay five hundred bits as a fine or face imprisonment. Resisting arrest is considered an act of terrorism and will allow me to shoot you on the spot.”

Vinyl’s eyes grew fearful, while Octavia realised she was inebriated enough not to care. “Here!” she shouted demonstratively, taking out five pouches out of her saddlebag and throwing them at the policepony’s hooves. “Take all we have! Because- uh! Because you suck.”

“Forgive her,” Vinyl began speaking very quickly, picking up the pouches and levitating them towards the stallion. “She’s had way too much moonshine and speaks nonsense. We are just two Equestrian citizens, enjoying our stay here in the mighty Crystal Empire.” She gave her best fake smile.

“Ponies like you disgust me.” The policepony collected the pouches, placing his gun back in place. “Stay in Gayquestria, you homos.” With that wise advice, he turned round and walked away without casting a sideglance.

“What a jerk,” Octavia observed, glancing at Vinyl, who was breathing heavily.

“What a jerk?” Vinyl yelled and turned on her marefriend, growling, “What a jerk? You have nothing more to say in your defence?” The mare stomped her hoof against the cold, cracked, snow-covered asphalt. “‘The most cautious mare’ my flank! You knew how we have to hide our relationship here and you still get wasted and- and why am I even attempting that,” she finished, watching Octavia stumble twice without taking a single step. “It’ll be lost on you anyway. Let’s go to the hotel, you’ll sleep it off. Who would’ve thought two shots of vodka would do this to you…”

***

I am not a drunk.

I drink for fun.

I tolerate alcohol.

I don’t drink alone.

I don’t have a problem.

He has a problem. That stupid policepony.

Vinyl has a problem. A stick in her flank.

Everypony has a problem in this crazy country. Not me.

Not me.

Octavia Philarmonica, October 31st

November 1st

Dear Diary,

When do you know that you have a problem?

When you realise that you do not want to live without alcohol or when you realise you cannot live without it? Do you have a problem when your inner craving for the liquid becomes more than just a happy time? Is it time to stop when you cannot act reasonably once you’ve had alcohol in you?

And how much is enough?

I used to think that drinking was fine as long as you’re having fun. But I always have fun while drinking. It is the morning after that I reassess what I did the night before and feel deep, passionate guilt eroding me.

Yesterday, I was having fun, drinking vodka with Vinyl in that cafe. But it lead to a terrible behavioural change, and, frankly, it always had. It always has. But not now. It has to stop. Because, as I woke up, I realised that I do have a problem.

***

“I have a problem.”

Octavia diverted her attention from the glass of juice on the tray from room service and looked at Vinyl, who was sitting on the cushion next to the writing desk and drawing doodles, pretending to be avoiding her.

“Hm,” Vinyl said, keeping the gratuitous pencil in her telekinetic grip, lines arranging themselves on the no less gratuitous paper.

Octavia sighed and rose from one of the double beds and moved onto the bed close to the table, poking Vinyl’s shoulder. “I know I have a problem with alcohol, Vinyl.” She tried to grab the unicorn’s shoulder but Vinyl just shrugged her off. “I act… irrationally when I’m under the influence.”

“Hm,” Vinyl said.

“I’m not saying I am an alcoholic,” Octavia said carefully, trying to determine whether she was lying to herself or not. “I can stop drinking at any time, and I don’t need alcohol to live.” Vinyl winced but kept doodling on the paper. “But I feel I’ve reached a point where I want alcohol.”

“Hm,” Vinyl said.

“I feel I’ve reached the point where I need alcohol to have a good time,” Octavia confessed, touching Vinyl on the shoulder. This time the mare did not shrug it off. “And I know it isn’t true. I can always have a good time, when I’m with you or our friends. So, while I am not an alcoholic, I do have a problem with alcohol.”

“H-hm,” Vinyl said, this time, her voice trembling a little.

“Vinyl, love…” Octavia stepped aside, trying to look into her marefriend’s eyes. “I’m really sorry about my behaviour. But I will correct it. I’m not saying I’m giving up drinking completely: that would be hypocritical. But…” Octavia sighed, finally drawing some semblance of attention from the DJ. “I will cut down on my drinks. And I need you. I need you to help me. I can’t do this alone.”

“Hm.” Vinyl put down her pencil, looking critically at her sketch.

“Vinyl, I know I did bad, but I am really sorry,” Octavia lamented. “Is it really a reason for such ostracism?”

“You could have died!” Vinyl shrieked, turning round at once, tears in her beautiful magenta eyes. She shrugged off the grey hoof violently, staring at Octavia with those deep, scared, crying eyes. “Can you even comprehend that? That policepony could have killed you! No alcohol can ever excuse behaviour that can get you killed!” She slammed her hoof against the desk. “It’s not the vodka, or the policepony, or this Celestia-damned country. It’s the fact that you could have died, Tavi!”

A realisation slowly dawned upon Octavia. Tears welled up in her eyes and she embraced Vinyl, who was initially unwilling but melted into the gesture. “I’m so sorry,” Octavia whispered. “I’m so sorry, love. I… I will never leave you.” That’s what has been bugging Vinyl… “I will not… I will never leave you, do you hear me?” Octavia kissed Vinyl’s cheek, feeling the saltiness of tears on her tongue. “I will always be with you.”

“S-so was she,” Vinyl sobbed openly, crying into Octavia’s wet fur. “I thought s-she would always be with me, and she… she…” Vinyl didn’t finish her sentence, breaking into hysterics.

Octavia just held her mare in her hooves, cooing soothingly: “I will always be with you. I will always stay. I will never leave you. I love you.”

For a while, the two mares just sat - and stood - in an awkward pose, which was making Octavia’s legs stiff, but which she still maintained for the sake of her marefriend. Then, Vinyl lifted her head and broke the half-embrace, freeing herself from the hug and wiping off her tears with a hoof. “Let’s go home, Tavi. I think we’ve had enough of the Crystal Empire. Let’s go to the land of the free.”

“Of course, love,” Octavia agreed. “We’ll just go to the land of the free.”

Vinyl sniffed. “And hayburgers.”

“Yes, and hayburgers.”

***

Secrets are worth something.

Why tell somepony you love about something dreadfully unpleasant? Why share a near-death experience, knowing that such sharing will only bring unnecessary sadness and fears? Why let down somepony you love and share a problem that they can’t help you with?

For that matter, is trust absolutely necessary in a healthy family? Love, yes. Love is the foundation of relationships. But not trust. Sometimes, to do the right thing, you have to break your kin’s trust. Sometimes, to make things right, you have to step across the line. You have to lie. White lies, or black lies - who differentiates between them anyway?

You lie all the time.

You break trust all the time.

That’s natural, and, while it seems unpleasant, more than a little necessary. You can lie. You can lack trust in your loved ones.

But what you need, what you absolutely need, is to never let them down. You don’t need to kindle trust. But you need to keep your love alive, and carry it with you, through your entire life.

And then, only then, there will be a long, happy life.

For all of us.

***

“Tired after the trip, sweetie?”

Octavia nodded and walked up to the sofa where her mother was lying, on several plush cushions. “You could say that. Mom, you know.” She winced. “We didn’t exactly return because we got tired. Something… happened.” The cellist winced again at what she was about to say. “Something unpleasant. But it’s in the past, and I’m working on it. We both are. I don’t want to upset you so I can’t tell you.”

Eleanore remained silent for a while, and the silence in the empty house was accentuated by Jeffrey cleaning the dishes. Vinyl was off with Neon, and, frankly, Octavia was somewhat happy that there was no jealousy in her heart anymore. “Okay,” the older mare said finally. “I understand that, at your age, you need to keep some secrets. It’s just that I hoped it wouldn’t come up to this.” Now it was her turn to sigh. “But it always does, doesn’t it.”

“Mom.” Octavia reached for Eleanore and cuddled up to her on the sofa. The young mare closed her eyes, remembering all the times when she’d curl up to her mother like this, as a little filly, with glee, then with growing awkwardness as an adolescent.

“Yes, sweetie?” Eleanore called back, wrapping her hoof around her filly, kissing Octavia on the forehead as she stroked the charcoal mane caringly.

Suddenly, Octavia felt really guilty: having focused so much on herself, and her relationship with Vinyl, she had forgotten about the simpler things in life, such as spending time with her mother and Jeffrey. After all, her mother had difficulties in life as well, and what a daughter wouldn’t try to help with those difficulties? So, instead of asking about Vinyl, as she had initially wanted, the words leaving her lips were, “Tell me a little about Dad.” She added, “Please. If you’re all right with it.”

The older mare smiled and drew a little closer to the filly, letting out a short, featherlike sigh. “Your father was a very… presentable stallion,” Eleanore said, running her hoof through her daughter’s mane. “An officer, a founding member of the Wonderbolts… and, frankly, a hunk of a stallion.” Octavia blushed at such intimate description: she hadn’t asked much about her father as a filly, but now that she had, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to listen on.

“I know that, Mom,” Octavia chimed in, fighting her inner turmoil, but not evading Eleanore’s gestures. “He was handsome, smart, and great, but then he went to the war and. And.” The cellist looked away at the wall.

Eleanore remained silent, stroking Octavia’s hair in long, thoughtful motions. “Well,” she said carefully, “what exactly do you want to know about him?” The hoof stopped on top of Octavia’s head.

“How did you two meet?” the daughter asked, thinking of earlier, happier times when she and Vinyl had just met. “Was it love at first sight, or…”

“Or,” Eleanore confirmed with a giggle. “He was a peace officer sent to my university to kill the protest about the cost of education. I was one of the protesters, keeping the professors from going inside.”

Octavia gasped and shifted a little, looking into her mother’s eyes. “M-mom? You were a…”

Eleanore jingled with soft, pleasant laughter and nodded, confirming Octavia’s suspicions. “Oh, I was a wild leftie as a young mare, believe me. Your grandparents could never understand why, and, frankly, I can’t either. But what’s happened, happened.” The mare smiled radiantly, remembering her past. “The pegasi were sent to deal with the protest, and I almost hit your father with my sign.” More soft, jingly laughter. “He could use lethal force, he could’ve arrested me but…” Eleanore sighed, closing her eyes. “Instead, he asked me out.”

Octavia didn’t say anything, lying on the sofa next to her mother, listening to her heartbeat, the first melody she’d ever heard in her life, a melody that might well have gifted her with musical talent.

“Believe me, I didn’t want to at first. I was anti-establishment, he was the definition of pro-establishment. But he gave me an option: to stand trial for disruption of public peace or go on a date with him.” Eleanore sighed dreamily. “Criminal prosecution didn’t sound fun, so I opted to go on a date with him. Third best decision of my life.”

Octavia’s ears perked up. “Only third? What were the second and the first, then?”

“Second best decision was marrying your father, of course. And the very best one…” She booped Octavia on the nose suddenly. “It was the decision your father and I made together. To have a filly. You.”

Octavia blushed and averted her eyes, still clinging to her mother like a foal. “Thank you, Mom. It’s… nice that we talked.”

“Octavia,” Eleanore spoke up, making the young mare look up with a start. “Please remember one thing. I will always be there for you. Just know that I’m always near, wherever you are. You are my little filly, always.” With that, the mother kissed the daughter on the forehead once again.

“Thanks, Mom.” Octavia got up, stretching her limbs. “I love you.” She took a glance at her mother and trotted into the kitchen, immediately spotting Jeffrey in the corner, skilfully cutting vegetables.

Quietly, she waltzed up to the butler and hugged him from behind. To the grey stallion’s merit, he didn’t even drop the knife. “Miss?” came the enquiring voice. “Are you well?”

“Yes, Jeffrey.” Octavia exhaled in content and placed her chin on the pony’s back. “I just wanted to say that I love you. Mom and I value you so much that you can’t even imagine. We may not be blood-related, but you’re family to us.” Octavia smiled and took a step aside. “You have always been, and you will always be.”

With that, the mare took her leave, leaving Jeffrey to stand, blinking, and watch her walk away.

***

“Vinyl.” Octavia nudged her marefriend, making the mare snort in disapproval. “Vinyl, are you asleep?”

“I was,” Vinyl mumbled. With a sigh, she rolled over and faced her lover, looking into the cellist’s pure, lavender eyes. “What’s the matter, Tavi?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Octavia replied, pondering over her wording. She traced Vinyl’s flank curves with her hoof, relishing the feeling of intimacy.

“Oh.” Vinyl grinned in the moonlit darkness of the room. “That’s a new one.”

“Shush, you silly mare.” Octavia tapped the DJ’s forehead with a hoof. “I’ve been thinking that… Not only I have a problem. You have a problem too.” Before Vinyl could protested, she shushed the white pony by pressing her hoof against her marefriend’s lips. “Vinyl, no matter how sweet life is right now, you still wake up at night screaming and crying. Melody’s still haunting you, love, and I think you need therapy.”

“I don’t need therapy,” Vinyl retorted as soon as the grey hoof left her lips. “You are my therapy,” she said in a softer voice, kissing Octavia’s hoof. “I can con- conf- con-fide in you. Always.”

“Vinyl…” Octavia sighed and wrapped her hoof around the mare. “That’s awfully sweet, but I think you need a professional. I can deal with my alcohol problem myself, but you…”

“I’ve managed so far,” Vinyl said, “so I think I’ll manage now. Shush. Sleep tight, Tavi.” She returned the embrace, nuzzling into Octavia’s fur. “There will be a brand new day tomorrow.”

“Yes…” Octavia shifted unsurely, closing her eyes with a terrible feeling of incompleteness washing over her. “A brand new day…”

***

I should have pressed on. I should have talked her into therapy. Sure, Vinyl has a family now, but that doesn’t mean that she never thinks about her old family. She has been traumatised, and I feel like I’m not doing enough for her. But who am I to fix her problems, when I myself have a problem?

Yes. I realised I do have a problem. Admitting your problem is half the battle. Well, at least quarter of the battle. But you know what, Diary? Even though I have a problem.... Looking at Vinyl, snoozing peacefully next to me, I know that I also have a solution. A silly, beautiful, painfully kind and generous solution.

And I always will.

Octavia Philarmonica, November 1st

November 2nd

Dear Diary,

It takes seven steps to get from the living room to the kitchen. One hoof at a time. Past the dusty bookshelves with romance novels that can never be in real life, past the door and into the kitchen.

It takes two steps to get from the kitchen door to the fridge. Cheese, dry bread - why put it in the fridge? Cause Dad said so - and lettuce. Close the door. No breakfast today. No breakfast yesterday. Breakfast is a distraction. You can only feel slightly alive on an empty stomach.

It takes three steps to get from the fridge to the bathroom. I don’t feel alive. But as I brush my teeth, as I see my reflection in the mirror, when I try to brush my hair and wash my face, I realise I am alive. At least, I should be.

It takes four steps to get from the bathroom to the living room. It takes two steps to get from the living room door to the window. ...It takes fourteen storeys to die hitting the ground. One storey is not enough. It takes two steps to sigh and get from the window to the living room door.

It takes one step to take the keys from the little cupboard by the exit. It takes two steps to walk out and close the door.

It takes a million steps to fix a life.

***

“Did you hear?”

Octavia covered a yawn with her hoof, walking out of the university building side by side with Vinyl, Lyra and Bon-Bon following suit. She glanced a loving side glance at her marefriend, keeping her attention on what the spinner was saying, instead of focusing entirely on her flank. “Hear what, love?”

Lyra sighed and stopped, rubbing her eyelids with a hood tiredly. “Vinyl, of course we’ve ‘heard’ the news.” She wrapped a protective hoof around Bon-Bon, who blushed, looking around to see if anypony was paying attention to their little frivolities. “Did you forget that I know stuff? And I share everything with my Bon-Bon.” With that, Lyra smooched the cream-coloured pony loudly on the cheek, eliciting a small yelp from the usually somewhat dignified mare.

“Would you go so far as to say…” Vinyl grinned, taking off her spectacles. “That that’s what you do? You drink and you know things.” The spinner put on her spectacles again in a swift motion, still grinning, casting a look at her marefriend, waiting for approval.

“No.” Lyra glared at the white mare. “First, you do not reference that show. Second, not every reader has seen that episode yet. Third, these are spectacles, not shades.”

“Episode of what?” Octavia blinked.

“Readers?” Bon-Bon blinked as well, still in her marefriend’s embrace. “Okay, that’s just a Lyra thing,” she concluded aloud, before freeing herself from the mint unicorn’s grip.

“So what’s the news, Vinyl?” Octavia prompted as the four went on their way. “I am not an omniscient mare, I am still oblivious.”

“Beauty Brass dumped Frederic!” the DJ announced proudly, the grin never leaving her face. “Heard it from Neon, and Neon heard it from a mare who’s a friend of Beauty’s…” She shrugged. “If she can ever have friends.”

“She can,” Octavia whispered very quietly. “Why?” she asked in a louder voice. “What was the reason behind that?” She kept the pace, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, even though she knew, she’d heard Beauty, she’d talked to her and…

“Well, she said it wasn’t going to work out.” Vinyl shrugged, dropping the grin. “I mean, who cares? She said she liked somepony else or something like that.” Vinyl placed her front hoof on Octavia’s back. “Who cares? She’ll just have another stallion to drain life from, but it isn’t going to be Frederic.”

Octavia tensed but didn’t free herself from the embrace. Thoughts tried to surface in her head, and they did surface, to some extent, but they absolutely refused to be put together. It felt like she had a vague idea, an idea regarding Beauty, but she couldn’t quite put it in words inside her mind. If Beauty had truly heard her words then, and had taken them close to heart… If she had listened, and thus had reimagined her relationship with Frederic… If she had been driven by guilt, then maybe she, Octavia, had a part to play there? And was that a bad thing or a good thing?

“We all make mistakes,” Octavia said aloud, trying to sound dispassionate, but her voice still trembled. “I know only too well. I made a mistake in the Crystal Empire.”

Vinyl shook her head sadly. “I made a mistake too… uh, you know.” She looked at Octavia understandingly. “And you know too, Lyra. But you’re a good mare, so you’ll keep silent.”

“I’m a bad mare only when Bonnie gets out the riding crop.” Lyra winked at the cream-coloured, but now very pink-ish, mare. “And sure, everypony makes mistakes. I voted for Trump.”

Octavia just sighed, disregarding Lyra’s usual… Lyra-ness. Something was not right here, and, while she couldn’t hear it from Beauty… “I’m gonna go visit Frederic,” the cellist said. “See if he needs a shoulder to cry on.”

***

“Okay,” Octavia admitted, cradling the tea in her hooves. “I thought you needed a shoulder to cry on, but you seem pretty much all right, Freddie.” She motioned with her hoof. “No alcohol, and such calm acceptance. You did like her, though, right?”

“I’m strong inside, Octavia,” Frederic replied with a smile, approaching the table and putting his own mug next to the plate of cheese and the jar of honey. “You haven’t visited me in a while. I’m glad you came, and I’m glad you came for me.”

Octavia chuckled, taking a sip of the tea. “You know, all I can think about is that Vinyl would probably make a dirty joke out of your words.” The mare laughed lightly, raising her eyes to look at her friend. “Okay, no, she would definitely make a dirty joke out of your words.”

“I’m glad you and Vinyl are together,” Frederic said, drinking his own tea, with milk, just the way Octavia remembered him always drink his tea. “Beauty and I, we went our separate ways.”

“She…” Octavia tried to adopt a cautious tone. “She, uhm, she has found somepony else? Another stallion?”

Frederic laughed aloud, resuming his eye contact with the grey mare only after ceasing his laughter. “Another stallion?” He sighed and rested his chin on top of his hooves. “Octavia, don’t tell me you haven’t realised yet.”

“Realised what?” Octavia asked cautiously, a realisation creeping into her head, but first lingering next to her heart, delivering a sharp, meaty sting.

“She likes somepony else, Octavia.” Frederic stood up and approached the mare, placing his hoof on her shoulder. “And that somepony is you.”

***

“Yes, Father?”

“...”

“No, I… I have broken up with Frederic.”

“...”

“Yes, I know he is a Horseshopin, but Father, that wasn’t-”

“...”

“I am not going to apologise to him and make up with him!”

“...”

“Father, we’re over it. I like somepony else.”

“...”

“No, it’s not a rich stallion.”

“...”

“No, Father, I am not a filly-fooler.”

“...”

“Yes, I know you’d kill me if I were a filly-fooler.”

“...”

“Father, I am not going to-”

“...”

“Father, you can’t mean this! You can stop sending money to me, but keep sending it to Mom! She needs-”

“...”

“...Yes. Of course. I will try to make up with Frederic.”

“...”

“I know you want your grand-foals to be of good heritage, Father.”

“...”

“Yes, Father. Love you too.”

***

You know, Diary, sometimes I have this dream where I live on the top floor of a skyscraper, in a penthouse bought entirely with what I earned myself, not what my parents earned for me. I cradle a glass of mulled wine in winter and I watch the snow descend regally outside, little snowflakes spiralling down from the sky.

I walk up to the window and climb onto the small table by the window that holds the vinyl player. I open the window and let the wind rush in. The usually green earth is all covered with dark, painful white. The pink moon winks at the shining sun. I reach for it, and I lean out of the window.

And then I fall.

Beauty Brass, November 2nd

November 3rd

Dear Diary,

Do you ever have this selfish feeling? Okay, well, I know you don’t, because you’re a diary and all, but bear with me here. I must admit that, upon learning about Beauty’s… preference, I was a little taken aback… But, more than that, I felt weird, strange pride deep inside. I was all like “Oh, a mare that likes me! A mare that realised her sexuality because of me!” - and that left an unpleasant stain on my mood as soon as I realised that such thinking was plainly wrong.

Also, I feel like I need to talk to her, and at the same time I am afraid to talk to her. I know I will let her down, and she knows I will let her down, and maybe, just maybe, Frederic made this whole thing up to mess with me.

Still, I need to talk to her. Have a discussion. Because, if I am planning on making that project with her, we need to maintain at least some semblance of familiarity. If we end up on the wrong note, the project will be officially pronounced dead, and so will our respective careers.

How to talk to her, though? I hope Vinyl can help…

***

“Fuck her.”

Octavia blinked, glancing at her marefriend out of the corner of her eye, and put down the cello. “Vinyl, why I appreciate the sentiment…” The cellist put down the bow as well, sitting down on the bed next to her spinner, who was lying on her back and staring at the ceiling, her front legs under the back of her head. “But I feel like we just cannot disregard Beauty Brass. I don’t know what exactly is wrong with her…” Octavia sighed, rubbing Vinyl’s belly with a hoof. “But I have a notion that something is wrong with her.”

“I didn’t mean ‘disregard’ her,” Vinyl replied, grinning, light reflecting in her spectacles. “I meant, ‘fuck her’. Have sex with her. An inter- interc- that inter thing.”

Suddenly, Octavia was very glad she didn’t have a drink in her mouth, for she managed to do a spit-take on thin air, her hoof freezing on Vinyl’s belly. You what, mate? a very chubby bearded little pony in Octavia’s asked, blinking dumbly. “Vinyl, surely you can’t mean that!”

Vinyl shrugged - which was only strange and awkward, considering that she was lying on her back. “Why not? I mean, you had sex with Spitfire.”

“We had sex with Spitfire,” Octavia corrected, getting up. “And it was different. Besides, not every problem can be solved by sex.” Blasphemy! the little pony in Octavia’s head protested. “If she really does like me, then having sex with her will make it even worse.”

“Sex can’t make it even worse,” Vinyl protested, rolling over to face the grey pony. “Besides, if you have sex with Beauty, I can have sex with Neon!” She grinned, but the grin faded upon notice of Octavia’s deadpan expression. “Too soon?”

“I will always be ‘too soon’,” Octavia grumbled, facing the window and enjoying the rays of late morning sun on her face.

“Like that joke I told Lyra about Vin Daisyl?”

“What joke,” Octavia said flatly without looking at the white mare.

“They say Vin Daisyl can do everything…” Vinyl began, her voice trembling with anticipation, making Octavia smirk at how her marefriend needed to be heard, understood by her; just how much her, Octavia’s, grace determined Vinyl’s existence. And, once again, she tried to battle that selfish feeling and ponder, instead, on how lonely Beauty Brass must now be. And how she, Octavia, couldn’t help her. Or could she? “Do you know what Vin Daisyl can’t do?”

Octavia sighed and shook her head in extreme, but amicable, disapproval. “What can’t he do?”

“He can’t star in another film with Paul Wokker!” Vinyl announced proudly, laughing and coughing simultaneously. Catching Octavia’s stern, disapproving gaze, she ceased her laughter on an awkward cough and averted her eyes. “Ahem. What I mean is, uni days is our time to sleep around.”

“No,” Octavia retorted abruptly, turning round to the window again. “It is never time to sleep around. It is time to be true to your partner. To your lover.” The grey mare sighed again and continued in a softer voice, “There is a reason why I reacted so badly to your ostensible relationship with Neon. I need to know that I can trust my lover. Trust is very important to me.”

For a few moments, Vinyl lay silently, then sat up in bed. “More important than love?”

“No,” Octavia admitted. “Nothing’s more important than love.” She approached the white mare. “And I love you. And I will stay true to you. But I need to talk to Beauty. Can you allow me that?”

Vinyl blinked as Octavia wrapped her hoof around her neck. “Why would you need my permission?”

“Because I am yours,” Octavia said simply, kissing the mare on the cheek. “Just as much as you are mine.”

Vinyl smirked and drew the mare into a deep, lasting kiss. “Then,” she said, breaking the kiss, “I certainly won’t object.”

***

“Yes, Father?”

“...”

“No, I mean, yes, I did talk to Frederic.”

“...”

“He has found another mare.”

“...”

“Yes, I know I am worthless, but thanks for reminding me.”

“...”

“Sorry. I’ll drop that tone right now.”

“...”

“Yes, I’ll try to find another stallion to marry, Father. It’s just that, I am getting education to-”

“...”

“Of course. I understand that mares don’t have to work, but what if I want to work?”

“...”

“Yes, Father, that won’t interfere with my duties as a wife. ...Good-bye, Father.”

“...”

“Love you too.”

***

“What. Do you want.”

Octavia shrugged, sitting opposite her nemesis at the dinner table. “Well, tea would be nice,” she suggested with a tiny smile. It was still all too pleasant to mess with Beauty Brass that way. Especially if it didn’t hurt anypony.

Beauty sighed and tried to put on her best stern expression. “Don’t tell me you just came here to have a cup of tea.” Still, the blue mare stood up and went on to prepare tea.

“Why not?” Octavia asked without a sign of defiance to her tone. Catching the vocalist’s glance, she sighed. “All right. I didn’t come here for tea.” Octavia lifted her eyes and made eye contact with the hostess. “I came here to tell you I don’t like you.”

Beauty froze for a moment, then proceeded to the table with the tea. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out we’re not on best of terms. Though, I think when you stayed at my house-”

“I don’t like you, Beauty,” Octavia repeated, looking at the mare sadly, knowing how much hurt her words would actually do. “You don’t get it. I cannot return your feelings. I have Vinyl.” Octavia paused. “Beauty, I know.”

It was a gamble, a pure leap into the unknown, a dance under the pink moon. For a moment, Octavia even doubted the truth of her own words, or whether Frederic had told her the whole truth, or whether Beauty herself had lied to Frederic, and thus…

“Frederic told you, didn’t he.”

Octavia nodded.

Beauty sighed, looking at the near wall, where the clock ticked the seconds away. “I knew I shouldn’t have told him. But it all… Ah, who the hell cares.” The mare waited, lingering over the table, then rushed to the cabinet. “Okay, I think we need a drink.”

“No,” Octavia said softly, but sternly, raising her hoof in the air. “I don’t need a drink, and neither do you. We just need to see where we stand. I said I didn’t like you as a potential marefriend,” the mare carried on, feeling how weird it was to associate Beauty Brass with the word ‘marefriend’, “but I think I can like you as a friend. I understand that your, erm, bitchiness?” Octavia winced a little. “I mean, your peculiarities of character are a result of, um, concealed attraction, I guess? And I forgive you.”

“No, Octavia.” Beauty shook her head, standing by the wine cabinet, facing away from the grey mare. “It wasn’t because of concealed attraction. I’ve only realised my feelings for you recently…” The blue mare turned round, and Octavia could see the tears in her eyes. “There are other… reasons. I… I am not looking for excuses. I mean, I grew up rich, and…” She gulped down unwanted tears. “It’s not like,” she smiled through tears, “it’s not like I own this house, and if I don’t, if I don’t obey…” The vocalist broke down into tears, leaving Octavia speechless at the table.

The grey mare stood up automatically and reached her rival, wrapping a comforting hoof around her. “I. I didn’t know you. I mean, if you have abusive parents…”

“Please…” Beauty whispered. “Nopony can interfere. Because, otherwise, my Father will stop sending money to Mom, and…” Once more, the mare practically collapsed onto Octavia in hysterics.

“I didn’t…” Octavia began, trying to find the right words. “Maybe you should live with me and Vinyl?” she suggested, immediately chiding herself for that kind, generous, and stupid, offer.

“And make it uncomfortable and awkward for the three of us?” Beauty smiled, sniffing. Just now did Octavia realise how beautiful this mare was, not beautiful like Vinyl, in her own special way, but beautiful objectively, a product of a perfect genetic pool. How coldly beautiful she was. How her beauty looked deeply wrong and artificial.

“I don’t know how I can help,” Octavia said weakly, seeing as she had no power to assist the beautiful mare in her sorrow. Seeing as she had no power to help her at all - and probably nopony did. Seeing as there was no way…

“You can kiss me,” Beauty said almost breathlessly, leaning in to the grey mare. “Or let me kiss you. I… I think…”

Octavia smiled sadly and distanced herself from the mare. “I’m sorry, Beauty, but we both know it would be better if we didn’t do this. For both of us.”

“Of course,” Beauty said, holding tears at bay, and faked her best smile.

The two mares just stood opposite each other for a while, before Octavia let out a nervous cough and a weak smile. “I think I have to go now. See you?” she suggested weakly. “For the project, I mean.”

“Of course.”

Beauty watched the mare leave, and stood there, waiting for the door to close. Hearing the reassuring click, she yelled, on top of her lungs, letting out a wild, primeval roar. The teapot flew against the wall, and so did the cups. Storming out, focused on just one thing…

In the bedroom, out went the drawer, out went the paper, yes, what they’d composed so far, together. Shredded to tiny pieces. She chewed on the paper, tore it apart with her teeth, tore it like there was nothing more to life than to destroy art.

Only then, seeing the tiny pieces of their work, her and Octavia’s work, she felt a little better.

***

Sometimes life just treats you in a manner, and you have to learn to adapt to it.

Sometimes you can’t change things. You can only learn to suffer in silence.

Sometimes you cannot even change your perspective on things, because those things are so dreadful there can be no other perspective.

Sometimes you just have to learn to live.

Because the opposite is…

You have to persevere. I thought Professor Dan was a good example of perseverance, but now I see that Beauty is a much, much better example. Building a shell around herself, she managed to live through oppression greater than even those in the Crystal Empire have to face: the oppression of family.

I cannot imagine what I would do if I had a father like that. For that matter, I cannot imagine what I would do if I had a father at all…

One way or another, we persevere, and that is what defines us. I cannot say any more here, Diary, so I’ll just shut up and go enjoy this evening with my loving family and my loving marefriend.

It takes some things to make a mare realise how lucky she is.

A very lucky Octavia, November 3rd

November 7th

Dear Diary,

You ever have one of those lazy days? Of course you don’t, you’re just paper. But I do, and one of such days was today. I can’t say that it was entirely uneventful, but the weather decided to take a day off with the graduate coldening, and it was a warm, lazy day, the kind of day that you don’t want to leave home, and just want to stay and cuddle with your marefriend.

And, considering that it was a Saturday and I didn’t have to go to uni, I did just that.

***

“You ever think about moving?”

Octavia raised her head from the book and gave Vinyl a long, thoughtful look. “Vinyl,” she said calmly, setting the book aside and rotating on the cushion to face the bed, where Vinyl was lying, staring at the ceiling, her spectacles near her on the bed, a magazine (Modern Equestrian DJs, Octavia noticed out of the corner of her eye) on the other side of her. “I am reading a steamy romcom about two mares, an uninhabited island, and a bottle of alcoholic beverage, and you ask me a serious question at a time like this?”

“Well,” Vinyl reasoned idly, “I could ask you why you aren’t writing a steamy romcom about two mares and what-not, but I am in one of those serious moods.”

Octavia sighed and rose from the cushion, reaching the bed in a couple steps and crawling onto it carefully, so as not to crush the spectacles. “All right, Vinyl.” She laid her head on Vinyl’s belly, wondering whether her marefriend had gone fatter, or whether it was just her imagination. Tickle the chubby pony! a little mare in Octavia’s head insisted. The cellist shooed her away. “What did you mean by ‘moving’? Equestria is the best place in the world.”

Vinyl shook her head and placed her hoof on Octavia’s head, stroking her hair. “I don’t mean, move out of the country. I mean, you ever thought if we should get a place of our own?” The spinner moved her hoof in small round motions, ruffling her cellist’s hair; but Octavia didn’t mind, lying next to her lover, pondering over the question.

“No,” Octavia decided finally and rolled off Vinyl’s belly, almost falling off the bed. “I never thought that.” The grey mare took the spectacles and put them away, cuddling up to Vinyl on the bed, feeling the white pony’s warmth radiating off her. “I don’t think we are mature enough for that. Besides, don’t you like living with Mom and Jeffrey? They are great and kind ponies, and they love you a lot.”

“I know that, Tavi,” Vinyl replied, facing her mare and wrapping a hoof around her. “It’s just that… You don’t think it’s weird for your mom to hear us, well, rut each other senseless almost every night?” Seeing Octavia’s thick blush, Vinyl winced uneasily. “I mean, you really, uh, you’re really loud and really profane when we do the thing.”

“Thank you, Vinyl,” Octavia hissed, trying to take the white hoof off her. “I think I noticed.”

However, the white hoof held tight. “Come on, Tavi, I’m just suggesting things.” Vinyl tried to lean in and kiss the flustered mare, but Octavia turned her snout away primly. “Do you want me to lick you where you like it?”

“No!” Octavia huffed, finally turning back to the spinner and receiving a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “I don’t think that… that is a reason for moving out.” The grey pony sighed. “But it is a reason to soundproof the walls.”

Vinyl nodded. “Wouldn’t it be cool if there was a spell for soundproofing?” she asked wistfully.

“I think there is a spell for that… but you’re not going to learn it.” Octavia smiled, patting her mare on the cheek. “You aren’t really… magical.”

“Oh?” A sly expression appeared on Vinyl’s face as she reached for the magazine behind her back and pushed it off the bed, giving her the space to roll back, dragging Octavia on top of her. “I would say my tongue… is pretty magical…”

At first, Octavia wanted to say something as a retort, but instead, a feeling of completeness enveloped her. A warm, pleasant surge of emotions filled her from the inside, making her sit up on Vinyl’s body, Vinyl’s hooves on her flank. “Well…” the cellist drawled. “I think we should see about that…”

***

There was a blue moon in the sky, a moon that radiated cold, lifeless light, a moon that shone with shades of pink and white, a moon that Octavia focused her attention on as she stood on the porch of the house, taking a step off the steps, feeling the grass under her bare hooves. It was getting cold, but she was bare, looking up to the rising moon. It wasn’t very late, but winter was coming, and darkness descended before the evening could take its rightful place.

Octavia took a deep breath, taking in the wet, crispy air, shivering from the humidity, but embracing the cold. The cold cleared her head, cleansed her mind, gave her a perspective. She heard the door opening behind her. The cellist turned her head and saw Eleanore leave the house, wearing a scarf and carrying another one.

The older mare walked up to her filly and silently put the scarf on Octavia’s neck. The grey mare winced a little, for the scarf was a little itchy, but she didn’t question Jeffrey’s proficiency at his craft. “Thank you, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” Eleanore replied softly and stood by her daughter’s side, looking at the blue moon. “It’s a fine evening, isn’t it?” Octavia nodded, without diverting her attention from the starry sky. Constellations winked at her, waltzing in place, their light warm and flickering. “Why aren’t you spending it with your marefriend?”

Octavia didn’t answer for a while - not because she didn’t want to answer, but because the answer surprised even her. “I think I need some alone time,” she said, hoping that her mother wouldn’t take it the wrong way and walk away. “I usually love company, but sometimes I need to think, and I best do it alone. I think,” she added uneasily.

“A bit for your thoughts?”

Octavia turned and saw a small understanding smile on her mother’s face. She didn’t like to share her thoughts, which she found silly more often than not, but decided to do so. “Vinyl asked me today if we should move out and live on our own.” She looked at Eleanore for support, but the older mare just stood there, listening. “And it made me think. We all grow older, and, well, I don’t really like it. I know you’re always be there for me,” she hastily added, seeing Eleanore open her mouth, “and that I’m your little filly, and so on, but I really fear growing older.”

“Octavia,” Eleanore said very gently, “if you’re worried about growing older, that means you aren’t growing older. When you do grow older, and mature, you won’t even have noticed it. Just, at one point of your life, you will see yourself in the mirror and think, have all those years really passed?” The mare chuckled and nuzzled the filly on the cheek. “Don’t worry about maturing, Octavia. Focus on today… well, maybe tomorrow. But the future will decide itself.”

Octavia sighed and nodding, turning her hooves to walk inside. “Speaking of tomorrow, I’ll probably have to go to Beauty’s and work on the music.” She glanced at her mother. “I did tell you she fancies me, didn’t I.”

Eleanore nodded. “Yes. And I will always try to help…” The mare smiled radiantly. “But I think this is something you should do yourself. Figure out the way things work.”

“Sure thing, Mom.” The two mares walked into the house side by side. “Sure thing.”

***

Tomorrow fills me with dre- No, it’s not actually dread. It isn’t fear either. It is, more or less, a feeling of deep, superficial thinking about the situation and not being able to resolve it. I don’t know what to say to Beauty - and if we can ever become friends after…

Well, we have to do this project anyway. We already have some notes, so it should be easy to get on from there.

Till tomorrow, then.

Octavia Philarmonica, November 7th

November 8th

Dear Diary,

It… could have gone better. Sure, it could have gone worse, but then again, it could have gone better. I thought we’d have some clarity, Beauty and I. But we still don’t. The confrontation was… far from pleasant. Not long, not rough, not loud… but unpleasant. But I think it was inevitable. Somepony once said: “Everything is inevitable; otherwise it wouldn’t have happened at all.” I think that’s true, to some extent.

But what surprised me was how my day began. I must admit that, while I consider Vinyl bold, I never saw the more… entrepreneurial side to her. She has always struck me as a passionate musician (less so a performer, considering that she hasn’t landed a single gig since we have begun dating), but never as a businessmare. Yet, her idea from today’s morning made me reconsider my opinion…

***

“We’re going commercial.”

Octavia blinked, turning halfway to the white mare, while munching on her breakfast. Disregarding any semblance of good manners, she mumbled with food in her mouth: “What.”

Eleanore tsked disapprovingly and passed a napkin to her daughter. “Here, sweetie, don’t chew and talk.”

I get it, Mom… Octavia swallowed her food and pointed her hoof at Vinyl, half-accusingly. “What do you mean, we’re going commercial?” The hoof tapped the grey chest. “You and me? We’re selling something?”

“Miss,” Jeffrey interrupted, pouring some more tea into the mare’s mug, “may I make an observation regarding pointing one’s hoof at other ponies?”

Octavia cast a glare at the everpresent butler. “No, you may not.” Turning to Vinyl, she continued, “Vinyl, explain yourself.” Sensing that it sounded like an order, she added, “Please.”

“I don’t mean us, love,” Vinyl said, making Octavia blush at the form of addressing: many weeks had passed, and she was still chilled to bits about Vinyl calling her pet names. “I mean Neon and me. We’re thinking of selling our first single we’ve made together.”

“You…” Octavia blinked. “You actually made something?”

Vinyl narrowed her eyes. “Yes, we did. If I don’t share my music with you, it’s just because you don’t have a stereo system to play it with.”

Octavia blushed again. “I, uh, I have a radio.”

“Well, radio is in the plans too,” Vinyl confirmed gleefully, “but for now we just want to record a single that would go on vinyl.” The mare puffed her chest proudly. “We’ll call it… The Vinyl Lights!”

Silence fell upon the room. Eleanore smiled and looked away. Jeffrey coughed into his hoof and shook his head. Octavia facehooved.

Vinyl coughed. “It’s a working title! Anyway,” she carried on, “I think that we have material for a single. And we don’t even have to record it at the studio.”

“Of course you don’t,” Octavia muttered under her breath, “It’s cause you use samples and not real instruments.” She nibbled on her toast, still paying close attention to her marefriend.

The spinner carried on: “We just need to find somepony who will ‘publish’ our single, so to speak. Record it onto a vinyl record, make the package, somepony who will draw the cover art. Then we’ll sell it and make bits!” The white pony smiled radiantly.

Octavia sincerely, truly, honestly didn’t want to break Vinyl’s little surge of happiness, but she had to intervene. “Vinyl…” she said very gently. “Sell to whom?” She waved her hoof around in the air. “It’s not like you have a lot of fans.”

Vinyl narrowed her eyes once again. Twenty percent narrower! a rainbow-maned pony in Octavia’s head exclaimed. “Neon does. And, just as a piece of information, I already asked the ponies from the faculty if they would buy our single, and more than twenty said they would. Adding Neon’s fans, it will grant us over a hundred potential buyers.” Vinyl’s horn glowed as she levitated a mug of coffee to her lips, taking a sip. “Worst case scenario, half of the ponies won’t buy it. That still leaves us over fifty.”

“You…” Octavia looked at the mare with newfound respect. “You actually estimated risks?” She stood up and walked to Vinyl, poking her shoulder with a hoof. “You can do that? Who are you and what have you done with my marefriend?”

Vinyl laughed, pecking Octavia on the nose. “Silly Tavi, I am not all loops and mixtapes.”

Octavia kept looking at her mare, suspicion crawling into her mind. “You aren’t?”

Vinyl couldn’t bear it any longer, throwing her hooves around the mare and dragging her onto the cushion next to her. “Tavi, relax. We have estimated the risks. We’ll work on a prepayment basis, we disclaim warranties, and it’ll be a no-return, no-refunds deal.”

“Can you do that?” Octavia asked suspiciously. “Can you disclaim all warranties?”

“Well,” Vinyl replied, “there are some warranties that can’t be disclaimed, like merchantability… Seriously, haven’t you been listening to Professor Dan?”

“Huh?” Octavia blinked in surprise. “I have, but he was reading Intellectual Property Law.”

Now it was Vinyl’s turn to blink in astonishment. “What? To us, he was reading Sales Law.”

“There is no such thing as Sales Law,” Octavia whispered, placing her weary head on Vinyl’s shoulder.

“Yes, there is.” Vinyl kissed her marefriend’s forehead, eliciting a sigh from the grey mare and a smile from Eleanore. “And I guess we need it more than posh classical musicians.”

“Har har har,” Octavia grumbled, nuzzling into Vinyl’s fur. “Look who’s a businessmare now.”

“Yes.” Vinyl tried to toss her hair - which, in reality, was a laughable attempt, considering her manedo. “I have the enter- entre- entp- I am a cool businessmare, okay?”

Octavia giggled and kissed the mare on the cheek, no longer embarrassed about showing her feelings for the sweet DJ, who had somehow turned out to have the entrepreneurial spirit. “Never change, Vinyl. You are the best marefriend ever.”

“Aww!” Vinyl poked Octavia’s belly playfully, eliciting a tiny yelp from the grey mare. “Somepony’s getting sentimental~”

“I am just pushing back the inevitable,” Octavia lamented, getting up and stretching her limbs. “And, before you get any sombre ideas, I’m talking about visiting Beauty and getting some work done.”

A grin slowly appeared on Vinyl’s face as the white pony got ideas that were not sombre at all, but rather more… passionate. “We can always have a three-”

“Vinyl,” Octavia hissed audibly, pointing with her head towards Eleanore. “Will you try not to embarrass me before my own mother?”

“Oooh.” Vinyl pondered for a moment. “I’ll just say menage a trois then.”

Octavia facehooved, while Eleanore merely chuckled and got up from the table, helping Jeffrey with the plates towards the sink. “My mother speaks Prench.”

“Mmm, come on, Tavi, I can show you my… Prench techniques.” Vinyl licked her lips sensually, fluttering her eyelashes at the cellist. “I guess it’s my…” Don’t! a little pony in Octavia’s head warned. “Native tongue.”

Octavia didn’t even facehoof. Instead, she sighed and drew the white mare close. “What about going to Beauty’s?”

“Oh,” Vinyl chuckled, “I’m sure that can wait until the evening.” She leaned over and whispered into Octavia’s ear: “I’ll go get the riding crop.”

Octavia’s cheeks immediately turned a fine shade of pink. “O-oh! Well, that, that certainly, uh!” She gulped. “That definitely changes things. Evening it is, then!”

***

“May I come in?”

Beauty shrugged, stepping aside to let the grey mare inside, and closed the door behind them. Trotting to the far side of the room, she stood at a distance, as if she were afraid of getting hurt - or hurting somepony? Her eyes, Octavia noted, were dull but curious. And so insanely beautiful.

“So, uh, how is it going?” Octavia shifted in place uneasily, looking around the room idly, her gaze falling on an abstract painting on the wall: several squares, black, grey, and white, entwined by line that ran like seams through the shapes, tying them together. And that’s art for you, the grey pony thought. It’s like explaining art has become art in itself nowadays. She immediately chided herself for such thoughts. Who am I to judge art anyway? I don’t even have a degree yet!

“It goes.” Beauty kept standing in place, staring lifelessly at Octavia, and, it seemed, through Octavia. “Octavia, what do you want.” Her tone fell flat on Octavia’s ears, making the cellist cringe inside.

“I thought it would be a good idea to work on our project,” the grey pony attempted amicability, taking a step towards the blue mare. “We already have some drafts so we can work from there.”

Beauty didn’t step back, but her tone was bland, joyless, plain and a little torn. Octavia would have preferred coldness, even a yell, but all she got was a thin, “No, we don’t. We don’t have drafts.”

“What do you mean,” Octavia said slowly, trying to both process the situation and not let emotions get the best of her, “we don’t have drafts?”

“I lost them,” Beauty lied with disregard and dispassion.

“You…” Octavia paused, choosing her wording carefully. “You destroyed our drafts in a rage, didn’t you,” she realised, feeling nothing but compassion for the vocalist. “Beauty, it’s all right. I am not angry with you, I just-”

“I don’t care.” Evilness entered Beauty’s tone as her eyes narrowed automatically, little icicles froze on her lips, but, in a moment, she was back to her hollow, empty state. “I don’t care,” she repeated. “I don’t want to work on the project. I don’t want to talk to you. Please leave.”

“I will not leave until I know you’re all right,” Octavia said lamely, knowing very well, yes, knowing, even though not admitting to herself, that there was this worm of guilt chewing on her, that she didn’t want to be here, that she only cared for the project, that Beauty’s well-being wasn’t important to her, that… “I don’t want you to do something stupid. Because it’s partially my fault,” she lied, “I mean, turning you down.”

Beauty didn’t even sigh. “We both know it isn’t your fault. Go.” She pointed at the door. “Don’t worry, I won’t commit suicide. I am too exhausted to do even that.”

Octavia shifted in place uneasily, then took another tentative step towards the vocalist. “Beauty…” she began, trying to smile just a little, but not too much, lest the blue mare take offence. “Life is much like this painting you have on the wall: there are black parts, and white parts, and grey parts. They are all intertwined, and they form life. You just have to look at it that way.” Great, and I thought I was getting somewhere with this.

Beauty pointed at the door. “Octavia, please leave.”

Octavia sighed, looked at Beauty one more time and walked out into the slowly setting evening.

***

I can’t even say that was a confrontation. I fear that the real confrontation is yet to come. Clearly, Beauty has problems, and those aren’t limited to me turning her down. Clearly, she is depressed. But what can I do? Okay, to paraphrase, can I even do anything? If I want to help - won’t it make matters worse?

Okay, I’ll probably ponder on that during one of the lectures tomorrow. For now, it’s sleep. And may Beauty’s dreams be sweet tonight.

Octavia Philarmonica, November 8th

November 9th

Dear Diary,

Do you ever fear that, when they finally put you in the ground, you will be able to hear and feel everything, but won’t be able to communicate? How fucked up would that be? You can’t even pound the bloody lid, they’ll be just… That’s horrible.

That’s been a recurring nightmare for some time now, for me. There’s Frederic, and Dad, of course, where else would he be, and, and Octavia, and they all bury me, they put me in the ground while I shout that I’m not done yet, I still have so many things to do!

And then I wake up and I realise I don’t have anything to do.

Sure, I could live a busy life. Hell, I think I should live a busy life. In fact, I should be living a busy life right now. But I am afraid of choices. I am afraid of responsibility. No, that’s not right. I shun responsibility. I don’t care about choices or consequences. That seems to be the problem. If I could spend my life in the confines of my house, I would gladly do so. But I have to go do the groceries.

Which is I am about to do. Which will start yet another uneventful day…

***

Beauty Brass checked her saddlebag for the keys and stepped out of the house. It was yet dark, but it was cold, crispy mornings like this that gave the mare a sense of connection to this world, a connection that was not yet severed.

Suddenly, she felt a light wetness on the tip of her nose. Rain? Beauty raised her front hoof and gasped. From the blackened sky, snowflakes descended in a dance-like fashion, giving way to each other, gallantly landing on the ground, only to melt immediately in the weather that was way too warm for snow to surface. Yes, it was not yet winter, prim, everlasting, but it was a sure sign that this long, terrible autumn was coming to an end, to give way to something beautiful, and maybe now was the time to-

“Gotcha!”

Suddenly, the blackness around her became even blacker, and the crispy air of the early morning was replaced by a stale odour of… potatoes? “What the hell is going on?” Beauty demanded as she felt her body dragged onto something resembling a small open wagon (since she could feel the wheels rolling) and restricted. “What the hell are you doing?”

“We’re kidnapping you,” Vinyl’s voice reached her ears from outside of the potato sack - or, rather, what she was absolutely sure was an old potato sack. “For your own good.”

“Dammit, I am committing a crime,” Professor Dan’s voice lamented with a sigh from the front, which made Beauty assume that the stallion was the one who was dragging the wagon. “I don’t want to go to prison. Again.”

“You went to prison, Danissimo?” Vinyl’s voice chuckled from the side. “Never would have thought a lawyer would-”

“Shh!” Professor Dan’s voice grew stern. “First, you’re blowing my cover. Second, that name is a trade name and is intellectual property.”

“You are blowing your cover by talking legalese,” Octavia’s voice came from the other side. “Beauty,” she addressed the young captive, “we want you to understand that we’re doing this for your own good.”

“How is kidnapping me going to do me good?” Beauty enquired from within the sack, feeling all the bumps on the road and wondering why Equestrian roads were so inferior… To what? a little pony in her head enquired. Great, now I’m seeing ponies in my head.

“We think you need some time away from your abusive family and your grim surroundings,” Professor Dan replied, dragging the cart and sighing to himself. Well, he mused, if I do end up in prison again, at least I’ll have three meals a day.

“What are you, a shrink?” Beauty had the decency to be somewhat troubled, even though, through the thick haze of self-pretence, she felt that she didn’t really care where those crazy ponies were taking her or whether they’d lock her up or, frankly, whatever they wanted to do to her was all right, because she didn’t care anyway.

“No, I’m not,” Professor Dan agreed, “but some ponies who didn’t read the description might take me for one.”

“The description?” Vinyl enquired curiously, trotting close to Octavia. Just in case there was going to be spontaneous public sex. Just in case. “What are you on, Danissimo?”

“I told you not to call me copyrighted names!” Professor Dan hissed. “And don’t act like you’ve never broken the fourth wall yourself.”

“Well,” Vinyl agreed hesitantly, “I’m not Lyra, but-”

“What happened to stealth?” Octavia lamented with a groan, pushing Vinyl away slightly, ruining all hopes of spontaneous public sex. “What about old good in-and-out?”

“Oh, I can do in-and-out, and you know it.” Vinyl grinned. “Right, Tavi?”

“Oh, sweet Celestia, I did not need to hear that.” Beauty chuckled. Then, in surprise, brought a hoof to her lips, as if feeling them for the first time in ages. What did just happen?

“See?” Vinyl laughed amicably. “You are already laughing. You’re getting better!”

“You will release me immediately!” Beauty tried to press on, feigning anger. In a way, this was an interesting game. And, since her mind had diverted itself from dark thoughts for the first time, why not play it?

“Of course we will.” Vinyl nodded, then realised that the captive couldn’t see her nods. “Once we ship you off to Danissimo’s flat.”

“What?” The cart stopped abruptly, almost shrugging Beauty Brass off. “What do you mean, to my flat? I thought-”

“Then you’re not really good at thinking.” Vinyl took the little cart in her telekinetic grip and tugged at it. “She can’t stay with us, so she’s staying with you.”

“I didn’t sign up for this!” The cart stopped again.

“Yes you did. Either you take Beauty in and provide her maximum comfort while we find a way to deal with her problems, or…” The cart got into motion.

“Or what?” Tprff.

“Or we tell everypony that you kidnapped a student and pressured two other students into this crime.” The cart began to roll. “I already feel violated. Don’t you feel violated, Tavi?”

“Oh, dear, I feel so violated already!” Octavia pressed her hoof to her forehead dramatically, glancing at the mortified stallion. “Would be so unfortunate… if somepony… heard about this violation?”

“That’s coercion.” Professor Dan took a step away from the cart. “That’s coercion and undue influence. It’s not fair.”

“Of course it’s not fair, Danissimo.” Vinyl blew her professor a kiss while dragging the cart. She grinned widely. “It’s just business.”

***

“So, uh.” Professor Dan smiled uneasily, drumming his front hooves against the table. “What kind of music do you like?”

Beauty Brass just glared at the older stallion. “The music of my kidnappers dying in front of a firing squad.” Somehow, she had passed the precipice of apathy and now a new emotion was fuelling her: irritation, extreme irritation at the fact that she was here, in her teacher’s flat, keyed up and unable to leave. If she’d been asked several hours ago, she would have answered that she wouldn’t want to leave any place, that she was too tired to move, that if living was a motion, she was dead. But now she wanted to… No, she didn’t necessarily want to escape - but she wanted to argue.

“Well, negative emotions are better than no emotions at all, I guess.” Professor Dan stood up and opened the fridge. “Can I offer you some condensed milk? It’s a hit, I’m telling you.”

“You aren’t a shrink.” Nevertheless, the mare took a sip of her tea, finding it… a little less bland that she had expected it to turn out. “Don’t try to consult me.”

“I’m not. Vinyl and Octavia will search for a real shrink for you.” The young - only now had Beauty noticed how young he actually was - teacher placed the can of condensed milk on the table next to the blue mare. “My job is different. I will be doing my job as a lawyer.” At Beauty’s quizzical look, he smiled. “Battling your father.”

Beauty’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell agape. Suddenly, she felt the room spinning for a moment, her heart beating in her throat - but everything came to normal a few seconds after. “No. You can’t battle my father. Nopony can.”

“Believe me, I have connections too,” Professor Dan assured. “I’m not all bark and no bite. I am the big dog who waits for the bone, but sometimes I can be the smaller dog who snatches the bone. It’s not all about wealth, Bea.”

“W-what did you call me?” Involuntarily, Beauty blushed and looked away. The little pony in her head grinning knowingly.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry if that-”

“No, that’s, uh, that’s, um, it’s fine.” Beauty gulped, then regained eye contact for a moment. “Uh, it’s kinda hot in here, you maybe could, I dunno, open the window?”

“So long as you promise not to jump out of it,” Professor Dan half-jested, moving towards the window. “And I know what I’m doing. I understand that your family is dependent on him, so I will find a way to legally bind him to pay your family.”

“He won’t obey even the court’s decision.” Beauty shook her head in defeat, feeling waves of apathy and acceptance wash over her again. “He won’t pay and he’ll just-”

“Then I’ll make him.”

Beauty raised her head, looking at the suddenly stern and determined stallion in surprise. “What?”

“I will track him.” Professor Dan stepped towards the blue mare resolutely. “I will find him.” Another step. “And I will make him pay. Be it in a legal manner, or… or.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Beauty asked, on the verge of tears. “This can save me, or it can ruin my life. Are you doing this for Octavia?”

“I’m not doing this for Octavia.” Professor Dan took the cup of tea he’d made for himself and took a sip. “I’m not really doing it for you either. I’m doing this for myself.”

Beauty fell silent, sipping on her own tea, which was gradually getting cold. Even the little pony in her head had shut up and was watching the stallion look through them, and through the walls, and just look somewhere that was, no doubt, in the past.

“When my father would come home drunk, he would beat me up. He never touched my Mom, thankfully. Because my Mom was smart enough to ditch him soon after I was born. But she decided, I dunno, that I was too much of a burden.”

Beauty felt that Professor Dan was in need of a much stronger drink, but he downed tea like whisky anyway. Then he smiled, and in his youthful eyes Beauty saw tears.

“I decided to study law for all that he did to me. I wanted to put him behind bars so badly. But life had it otherwise. As soon as I was old enough, I broke three of his ribs. Permanently damaged one of his eyes.” Longingly, the stallion looked at the wine cabinet, then shook his head. “So they put me in jail. Juvenile justice at its finest.” He laughed a dreadful, unfunny laugh that sent shivers down Beauty’s spine. “So he ended up alive but free, and I ended up in prison. Do you know what I had to say when he beat me up?”

Beauty gulped down, trying to hold the tears at bay. “W-what?”

“Thank you, sir.”

Tears left Beauty’s eyes, they flowed beautifully down her face, tears sprung and dropped and dripped, and tears wouldn’t stop.

***

I… This has all been too weird. I cannot make this diary entry. He’s sleeping on the floor. He is so beautiful. I can’t call him handsome. But he has this weird inner beauty. Maybe he is the one who can help me.

But can he help me with Octavia? Because I think I am still attracted to her? Or am I… No, that would be silly. Being attracted to your own kidnapper is a syndrome. But then again, he isn’t really my kidnapper. He is a knight in shining armour who wants to rescue me from a fate that he’d lived through himself.

Can he?

I don’t know. What I know is, for the first time in a long while, I have this weird feeling in my chest. I don’t know what to call it, but it is warm, and inspiring, and slightly bright.

I’ll call it hope.

Beauty Brass, November 9th

November 10th

Dear Diary,

It’s second day in a row that I’m not attending studies. Not that I mind, or care. Yesterday, that was due to my (unfortunate?) kidnapping, today it’s because Vinyl and Octavia are to pick me up and drag me to see a shrink.

I could say I don’t want to do that, but, frankly, I don’t really mind. I don’t think visiting a shrink is going to do any good to me, or that he or she would help me unlike Octavia or help me with Father or help me stop thinking weird thoughts about Professor Dan WHO SHOULD STOP READING OVER MY SHOULDER RIGHT NOW!

***

“I-I was just going to ask you if you wanted tea!” The stallion backed down, leaving a very furious Beauty lying on the sofa and scribbling in her diary. “I’ll leave right now!”

“Don’t.” Beauty sighed and sat on the sofa, pushing away the cushion so that it would cover the little leather book. “Come here, Professor Dan, sit next to me.”

“You can just call me Dan if you want.” The lawyer sat at a distance from the blue mare, feeling somewhat like a young stallion. Which he was, to think about it.

“No,” Beauty shook her head with a tiny smile that, to him, seemed so very beautiful on her face. “You earned this title. Professor. I wish I earned something.” She looked away longingly with a deep, thoughtful sigh.

“I think you earned your grade in Law, for one.” Professor Dan smiled, looking at the blue neck, which had turned slightly pink. “I must admit, I’ve been biased towards you, and you still earned your A.”

“Everypony’s been biased towards me,” Beauty said bitterly, without looking back. “And I kind of understand it. I was acting like a bitch, wasn’t I?” She glanced at Professor Dan, who, evidently, had no idea how to handle the situation.

“Uh…” The (slightly) older stallion rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “No, I mean… What I mean is…”

“I know.” Beauty nodded. “But that’s because I was suffering. I still am. Difference is, I used to want others to suffer too. Now I don’t. Maybe it’s because I no longer care. Maybe it’s because Frederic changed me. And…” She gulped. “Just seeing Octavia so happy with Vinyl, it’s, it’s filling me both with glee and jealousy. I can’t explain.” She sighed. “You would not understand. This is not how I am.” What’s that even supposed to mean? a little pony in Beauty’s head wondered. Oh, I got that reference! another gleeful pony in her head pranced.

“You’re right.”

Beauty’s head slowly rotated towards the professor, her neck craning until she was face-to-face with him. “I am-”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t understand.” Professor Dan stood up with determination. “I have never been both jealous of somepony and happy for somepony at once. That must be taxing.” He stretched his limbs, showing off just enough muscle for the little pony in Beauty’s head to blush and hide behind a towel. “But I understand the desire to inflict pain, Bea.” At the form of addressing, Beauty found herself at the same plight as the little pony that was evidently to stay in her head - even though she didn’t have a towel to cover her pink-ness.

“I, too, used to be destructive. My father left no desire for me to do good to other ponies. Hell, other people, even. Because griffins are people too.” Beauty blinked at such a bold statement that went against everything that had been preached to her - and the whole of Equestria. “But I changed. I can’t say it was a bed of roses. It was prison.” The stallion winced. “But when I was out, I felt that I’d left that part of my life behind. That I could do good. That I could escape from my bitchy, destructive self. And I want you to heal, too.”

“Why have you made it your personal quest to help me?” Beauty asked very quietly and got up from the sofa. “Is it just the similarity in the setting, so to speak. Or?”

The doorbell rang, enabling Professor Dan to avoid the confrontation. Beauty just stood there while the stallion rushed off to get the door, then sighed and chuckled. Then another chuckle escaped her throat, and suddenly she found herself laughing out loud, laughing till tears, at the absurdity of the situation, at how nopony could really help her, how this was all a stupid game, at how-

“See? She’s doing better!”

Octavia shook her head, looking at the laughing mare, her once-nemesis, once-rival, now just a broken mare who needed help. Octavia had no idea why she felt obliged to help; maybe it was because she was innerly guilty for being unable to return Beauty’s feelings; maybe she was just a good pony. Yeah, the little pony in her head pshed. As if. “I really don’t think hysterical laughter is ‘doing better’. Beauty,” she addressed the young mare. “We’re here to take you to see a doctor. Will you go with us voluntarily?”

Laughter and quiet, crying chuckles were the answer.

Octavia looked around uneasily. “Uhm. I, I don’t know what to do. Vinyl?”

“Let’s tie her up and bring her to the doc.” Vinyl shrugged. “Alternatively, we can all have kinky roleplay. I would even go so far as to say…” She put on her violet shades. “Rope-play.”

A well-deserved slap on the back of the head was Octavia’s (expected) reply. However, before the grey mare could say anything, Professor Dan stepped in and glared at Vinyl sternly. “You do realise what you’re suggesting is basically rape, right?” Then, suddenly for both musical mares, he approached Beauty and gave her a big, gentle hug.

Beauty melted in his embrace, her chuckles subsiding and evolving into quiet sobs and sniffs. Uneasily, Professor Dan stroked the back of Beauty’s head, holding the mare close, whispering something in her ears, something that, to Octavia, seemed comforting enough for her and Vinyl to step away and let the stallion lead the vocalist towards the exit.

“Are we going or not?”

Octavia nodded, watching Professor Dan and Beauty leave the flat, leaving the door open. “You know what’s the most dreadful thing, Vinyl?”

“What, Tavi?”

“The most dreadful thing,” Octavia said, walking towards the door somberly, “is that I realised I am not helping Beauty because I am a good pony. I am helping her because, innerly, I am afraid to fail my uni project with her.”

With that, the grey mare walked away, Vinyl following her at a distance, just tagging behind.

***

I don’t know what the doc and Bea talked about, and, frankly, it’s not my business. But I see this young mare, and I feel for her. I feel her pain, and I feel anger towards her father, and I feel, I feel, I don’t know what I feel.

What am I supposed to feel?

She’s lying on the sofa, snoring quietly. It’s only seven in the evening, but the pills the doc prescribed for her make her sleepy. I hope those pills don’t do her bad. I hope she can overcome. I, on my side, will do everything to make that bastard pay. Just like I made my father pay.

And, if this means going to prison once again, I’ll do it.

For her.

Professor Dan, November 10th

November 11th

Dear Diary,

Finally attending uni classes is nice. For a change. Funny thing, though, nothing seems too hard. Sure, there are taxing subjects, but I am sailing through them. It is Beauty that’s worrying me, and Vinyl’s commercial project.

I feel like we’ve been growing… No, not distant. Rather… Accustomed to each other. We no longer having sex every night, and our kisses have grown more resigned. But I have no fear. I don’t fear that Vinyl is no longer attracted to me. I don’t fear that she’ll leave me for somepony else. I suppose we’ve evolved past love at this point.

We’ve evolved into trust.

And we need this trust to make it through. Make it through with my abstination. I cannot say I don’t crave the light-headedness of alcoholic abuse, but Vinyl is making it easier to cope with. Make it through with Vinyl’s commercial project. Celestia knows that there is just so much competition in the EDM field nowadays. I can feel Vinyl clinging to me for respite. Make it through with Beauty’s depression. Which reminds me that we need to escort her to the doctor this afternoon.

...But first, Mom wants to talk to me and Vinyl about something.

***

“I wanted to talk to you two about something,” Eleanore said very seriously as the family of four sat at the dinner table.

Octavia gulped, knowing very well that if her mother was this serious, that meant that the matter at hoof was going to be very serious as well. Vinyl, however, had no idea that this side of Eleanore existed. For her, Octavia’s mother was caring, light-hearted and accepting. Well, technically speaking, she was all of that, Octavia had to admit, but she knew that she could also be stern. If necessary. But, right now, Octavia didn’t see the necessity for sternness.

“Where are you two going?”

Octavia blinked, opening her mouth to ask, but Vinyl preceded her. With a large grin, “Oh, we’re going to get Beauty Brass to the doc’s, like yesterday. We think it would be healthy for her if we accompanied her for now.”

Eleanore shook her head with a tiny smile that let Octavia know her mother wasn’t displeased with them, just serious. “No, sweetheart. I mean, where are you and Octavia going with your relationship?”

“Oh.” Vinyl’s ears drooped visibly. “I, uhm, I didn’t give it any thought. Since we can’t get married, or have foals, uh… I guess we’ll just keep dating?” She glanced at her marefriend hopefully. “Unless Tavi realises how stupid I am and dumps me for somepony actually smart.”

“Don’t be silly,” Octavia chided the white unicorn, tapping her on the forehead below the horn. “Well, I have been thinking about it. About us, I mean.”

“You have?” Vinyl blinked.

“Yes, I have,” Octavia confirmed with a nod. “And I’ve come to a conclusion. Even though we are not legally a family, I see family in Vinyl. And I will always love her. And we’ll live together, and, and-”

Octavia didn’t get to finish: both her marefriend and her mother rose from their seats and hugged her from both sides.

***

“Come on, Bea, just a little sip.”

Beauty shook her head defiantly and smiled a very tiny smile at Professor Dan, pushing the bowl of soup away. “Thank you, Professor Dan, I’m not hungry.”

“Bea, please, I am hungry.” The grey stallion looked at his own bowl longingly. “I won’t eat if you don't eat.” Once again, he pushed the soup slightly towards his guest. “Just a few spoonfuls.”

Beauty smiled the same tiny smile at the young stallion and took a spoon of her soup obediently. “At first it’s just a little sip and now it’s ‘a few spoonfuls’?” she asked playfully, leaving a wide grin on the stallion’s face.

“I don’t want to ruin it, but I think you’re doing better,” Professor Dan said carefully. “I know it’s only been one day, and pills take a while to work, but-”

“It’s the therapy,” Beauty replied, eating more of the delicious tomato soup. “I feel slightly better because I got to talk my heart out. Do you know what we talked about?”

“I think it’s private?” Professor Dan raised his brow while looking sideways at the bread next to the bowl. “I wouldn’t want you to have to confess private matters to me.”

“I don’t have to,” Beauty said, pushing the bowl and the untouched bread away. “I want to.” In the uneasy silence that followed, she continued, “We talked about my plush bear from childhood, Mister Tummers.” The blue mare’s face brightened enough for Professor Dan to feel a weird feeling in his stomach, which he made disappear immediately. “I loved him and slept with him and had tea parties with him.” She stopped abruptly and pulled the bowl of soup towards her, slurping it quickly.

Professor Dan didn’t want to ruin the idyllic moment, but the necessary words just sprung from his lips: “What happened?”

Beauty stopped mid-meal and looked up at the host. “Why would you assume something happened?” she asked a touch defensively.

“Because,” Professor Dan sighed, “you wouldn’t have mentioned it if nothing had happened.” He pushed away the bowl and the bread and placed his front hooves on the table. “Bea, if you don’t want to, you can hold it from me. But don’t hold it in. Tell your doctor about everything that might seem important, because, chances are, it really is important.”

“Who said anything about me not telling my doctor about it?” Beauty tossed her hair with a huff, leaving the young stallion breathless. He saw the gesture as if in slow-motion, a gesture of power and defiance, but at the same time not an evil gesture, but rather a sign of restoring health, a gesture of… beauty. The little pony in Professor Dan’s head facehoofed hard. “I’ve told her everything, and I’m telling you. Father gave it to one of my little cousins. Without telling me anything. I just came home and Mister Tummers was gone. We never talked about it.” For a moment, Beauty just stared at the wall opposite her, then shook her hand and dove into the meal again.

“I, I’m just glad you’re taking this whole thing seriously.” Professor Dan looked at his ex-student munching on the rye bread gracelessly, and yet it was the most perfect gesture. “Getting treatment from depression is hard, but it is a battle you have to fight.”

“You have a harder battle, Dan,” Beauty said quietly, both scaring the stallion by the form of addressing and sending his heart aflutter. “The battle with my father.”

“Honey, we’re home!”

Before the stallion could say anything - or react in any manner, a very familiar white unicorn stormed into the kitchen, followed by a more resigned and dignified earth pony mare. “Hey, Danissimo, how’s it going?”

“How did you get in?” Professor Dan managed after working his jaw for a few seconds. “I never gave you the keys!”

“The door was open,” Octavia chimed in, casting a look at Beauty Brass, as if trying to estimate just how much progress she had gone through since the previous day.

“I never leave the door open!” Professor Dan protested, looking at Vinyl suspiciously. “Now what you’ve done is breaking and entering and-”

“I did it, Dan,” Beauty spoke softly. “I wanted to go out for a walk, but then felt very sleepy and went to nap. Forgot to close the door.”

“Since when are captives allowed to go out?” Vinyl stomped on the floor. “You are here for your own good and-”

“Shut up, Vinyl,” Octavia hissed, watching Professor Dan get up and get in front of the blue mare, shielding her defensively. “Just shut up. She’s a guest, right, Professor Dan?”

“Exactly.” The grey stallion kept a pause, then stepped away, still standing at a safe distance to cover Beauty and protect her if necessary. It was an automatic gesture, instinctive, but touching nevertheless - or so it seemed to Octavia, whose little pony pranced in Lyra-like realisation. Or, maybe, she was just glad that it could mean Beauty was growing over her. Celestia, I am a disgusting mare for thinking such disgusting thoughts.

On the outside, Octavia managed a smile and extended her hoof towards Beauty, then pointed at the exit. “Shall we?”

***

Of course it would rain.

It could snow, for a change. After all, winter was nearing Equestria, to take over, still, prim, everlasting. But he just couldn’t do this without a disturbing feeling of noir pursuing him through the night. So it rained, it rained in blankets, and he hadn’t brought an umbrella.

He stopped before the club, neon light flickering softly in the night. Nodding to the bouncer, in he went, shrugging off dampness from his fur. Was he being expected? Of course he was being expected, see, right that table in the corner, with the black pegasus smoking a cigar.

“If this isn’t Dan the Man!”

What a stupid name. How much I hate you, he thought, smiling, sitting down at the table. This needed to be done. Everything had a price, and he was willing to pay the price. “How’re you doing, Scotch? Still chasing young mares at athletic events?”

“Oh, that’s rich!” The fat black stallion motioned for the waiter. “Here, give this boyo a whisky.” Wiping off his mouth with a napkin, the stallion turned to him. “What’s the matter, Dan? Why the sudden desire to pay me a visit? Is it about me owing you one?”

“Exactly, Scotch.” The whisky arrived, but he didn’t touch it. “There is a huge mess going on, and I need your help.”

The pegasus leant in and shooed the waiter away. “I’m all ears.”

***

Now I know my future. And my future is by Vinyl’s side. It’s a commitment, sure. But I am not afraid of commitment. I am an adult mare now. It’s not about age. It’s about responsibility. Vinyl has taught me this responsibility. She is my mentor in so many ways.

Even though she, indeed, has been dense at times. Like now, when I have explicitly given her enough nudges to start thinking sexy thoughts, and she’s calculating the risks of her project. Maybe if I just push this diary under her nose that’ll-

Oh, this actually works!

A very enthusiastic Octavia, November 11th

November 14th

Dear Diary,

It’s silly, really. I think it’s just the pills. No, it’s definitely the pills. The doctor says it’s my subconscious, but I know it’s definitely the pills. Because why would I otherwise have dreams about Dan, three nights in a row? Nothing lewd, Diary, just weird romantic things like going to the movies, or a restaurant, or, uh, kissing under the rain? Pills, definitely the pills.

Speaking of the pills, I now realise the change they had made over the past few days. Now I don’t feel exactly better, that is, less sad or scared or anxious. But now I know that something is wrong with me and that I need to do something, fast.

Dan has been doing something too, I can feel it. He’s been disappearing for the groceries twice a day, and coming home without the groceries. I mean, coming to his home. Because I am not thinking of this as my home. That would be just ridiculous. Because I like Octavia. And I want Octavia. And I think I am attracted to mares… right?

Right?

***

“How was the recording session?” Octavia raised her head from the book she was reading, something about some weird time-travelling stallion. I wonder if he slept with Princess Celestia, a horny little pony in Octavia’s head uttered. What? She blinked at the other ponies in her head. Come on, I haven’t been laid in a week!

“Not perfect, Tavi.” Vinyl shook her head with a sigh and placed the rucksack in the corner. “It had to be perfect, but it wasn’t perfect.” With another sigh, the DJ plopped on the bed, her eyes closed. “The drum machine just can’t do the job. Neon has a perfect ear but can’t keep the rhythm. I tried the drums, but I lack coordination. Maybe we’ll have to find a session drummer.”

“Mmhm…” Octavia nodded, crawling on top of the tired unicorn. “Riiiiight… I think somepony needs to relax…”

“Oh yes,” Vinyl replied tiredly, “I think I’ll have a long long nap…”

“I think,” Octavia reiterated as she began to massage her marefriend’s back, “that somepony needs to relax…” Even a pony as dense as Vinyl should understand what I’m implying…

“Uhuh…” Vinyl relaxed at Octavia’s gentle ministrations. “Yeah, a long, looooong nap…”

“Vinyl.” Octavia stopped abruptly and put her fronthooves on Vinyl’s flanks. “I am implying that you need some sex to ‘ease you up’.” And so do I.

“I’m not in the mood,” Vinyl mumbled with a yawn that she didn’t care to cover up. “Can you just, you know, haaah, do it by yourself?”

“Vinyl, I’ve been doing this by myself long enough!” Octavia rolled off the white mare, groaning in desperation. “Don’t you want to, you know?, participate?”

“Uh, I’ll join in, start without me,” Vinyl uttered before her breaths grew slower and snores began to escape her nose.

How she can fall asleep so fast, eludes me. Octavia sighed and pulled the blanket over her exhausted marefriend. When I entered adulthood, I didn’t mean for this to happen...

***

“It’s Saturday.”

“Uhuh.” Professor Dan nodded, without diverting his attention from an oh so interesting paperback about a time-travelling stallion and his companions. “Time flies.” He returned to his cereal - which, by now, was all milk and no cereal, but the book was just so interesting and there were robot ponies and why was there suddenly a blue hoof on his hoof?

“It’s Saturday evening, Dan,” Beauty said softly, putting her hoof on the grey hoof, for some reason. Realising her gesture, she blushed and, quickly averting her eyes, took away the hoof swiftly. “I-I mean, I don’t have a doctor’s appointment for today… It’s a while till I have to take my evening pills…” The blue hoof began tracing circles on the table cloth.

“Uh…” Professor Dan began sweating slightly, trying to understand what was expected of him. Ask her out, you idiot! a little pony in his head screamed at him. Ask her out? A student? Outrageous! another little pony retorted. “Um… Want to see a movie?” he suggested, immediately wanting to withdraw that suggestion. Of course he wasn’t falling for her, that would be plainly stupid, he wasn’t drawn to her eyes or the way that she smiled like now or the way that she looked at him with delight in her eyes that he wouldn’t trade for the world or the way her gorgeous nose moved when she spoke or-

“I would love to.”

***

The night had descended over the city beautifully. Usually, it had been a botched, unnatural sight, a ripper slicing the light and throwing on a black canvas; but now, it was a thin, quiet darkness descending upon the world, aiming to claim the city till tomorrow and caress it in its blackened hooves.

Just like he wanted to caress her in his hooves, he realised as the two of them walked home from the movie theatre, looking at her in the light of the lamppost, the way her fur glittered, the way the snow descended regally on her, faintly falling over the street, concealing the darkness with its white, royal light.

This desire was forbidden, terrible, and disgusting; he shouldn’t be thinking such thoughts about her. But such thoughts were… pure. They weren’t bawdy or ledw, they were only slightly passionate, but ever so warm, and the smiles she gave him through the walk, through his speeches about justice and law, about life and time and space and new scientific discoveries, those tiny smiles she had been giving him all this evening, all those side glances-

“Got a light?”

He stopped, standing instinctively between Beauty and the two stallions. “Sorry, fellas, we don’t smoke.”

“Maybe got a coin?”

Advancing. Two of them. No, he wouldn’t be able to fight two… What to do? An old trick, an old solution will do. Okay. Take a deep breath. “Sure, let’s see if I have one in my saddlebags.”

Taking out a bit, he put it on his hoof and flicked it. The two stallions’ attention was immediately drawn to the coin, which allowed him to turn round swiftly and buck the left one in the ribs.

Big miscalculation. Turning to the right one, he thought the left one was done. But the stallion rose, coughing blood. Must be made of tougher dough. One kick landed precisely on his face, shattering a few teeth. He yelped and fell on the snow. The other kick broke his nose, making him snort blood on the thickness of the snow. It was so wrong, to stain the white beauty with red… and her screams were just wrong…

He tried to get up, but all he saw was another hoof landing in his chest. Then another kick. And screams, screams all the way. Then nothing. Not even the pleasant nothingness of fainting. Just the whiteness of the snow and the hard, laboured breathing. Coming from him? Coming from him.

And her. Trying to get him up. “Sweet Celestia, Dan, what did they do to you?”

He coughed, trying a smile. A smile was all he muster; getting up was too complicated. “They… Didn’t touch you?”

“No, Dan, but look at you!” she chided, trying to get him up, crying, tears streaming down her face. “You should have just given them the money!” Finally, she lay on the ground next to him, crying, hugging him, kissing his face and neck all over, crying, crying, crying.

“Well,” he managed a smile. “I am an idiot, you should know it.”

“But now,” she said determinedly, “you are my idiot. Please, let’s go home.”

Those simple words made him take a terrible effort and, shaking, shivering, get up. Leaning on her, he made his way through the windy, snowy street, laughing to himself innerly at how ridiculous this whole thing was.

The thing called life.

***

What did we do? What are we doing? Where are we going with all of this? She’s obviously delusional, she can’t really like me, we’ve only been relatively close for less than a week! It’s scary, it’s ridiculous, it can’t be true. She just felt compassion - which is a good thing - and acted on her impulses.

I’ll talk to her. I know I can’t really find out what I am feeling for her, because it’s so complicated! And I am sure she can’t be feeling what she seems to be feeling for me.

No, this is just wrong. We have to talk it out. But not now. She thinks I am asleep, in my cosy hospital ward, when in reality I spat out the painkillers just to stay aware enough to write this diary entry. Why do I even have a diary? That’s ridiculous.

I’m going to regret this tomorrow. Ouch.

A very beaten up Professor Dan, November 14th

November 15th

Dear Diary,

I am not sure what to feel.

Dan left me at his flat, but not before making me contact Octavia. So Octavia came to stay the night with me - in the purest sense of the word. But I… I felt nothing. I watched her lying on the floor, breathing in her sleep - and I felt nothing. Not a flutter of the heart. Not a tug at the nerve. I was only worried about him.

How valiantly he protected me. How he was the perfect stallion at the date. Did I just say date? I don’t know. I don’t know anything now. The pills I’ve been taking are somehow keeping apathy at bay, but they confuse me. Or maybe life confuses me itself. Or herself? Is life a she? Is this why I thought I was attracted to mares? Because, innerly, I was just attracted to life?

Celestia, we should do less dream therapy. Those associations are getting out of hoof. One way or another, I can’t get Dan out of my head. I… If this is one-sided, this will be hell. What if I don’t really feel anything for him, and it’s just the pills? Or the whatever syndrome that makes the kidnapped feel towards the kidnapper? Or, rather, the saved towards the saviour?..

Octavia has made breakfast, and, for the first time in a while, I’ve been able to talk to her normally. I can see the relief on her face when she realises I am not attracted to her any more, and I can see fear that my attraction will return. I see how she aches to see her marefriend again.

Just as much as I want to see Dan, I presume.

***

Where was he going with her?

Professor Dan closed his eyes and let painkillers do their work. They were dulling his perception of reality - but reality itself had been surreal the past week. He was pretty sure he wanted to defend her. He was pretty sure he wanted to make her feel happy. He was pretty sure he wanted to kiss her on the lips and make love to her all night long.

His eyes shot wide open. Okay, this was just plain wrong. First, he hadn’t really known her for more than a week. Second, she was going through a tough patch in her life, and she needed support, not another calamity. Third, how could he be sure she really liked him back, that this wasn’t the effect of the pills. Fourth, she was a student, and he was a professor! That was outrageous. That was ridiculous. That was-

“Hey, Danissimo!”

With a groan, Professor Dan closed his eyes and tried to turn his head away. However, the headache resurfaced immediately, making him a prisoner of locked-eyes with Vinyl Scratch, who had entered the ward grinning widely, accompanied by Octavia Philarmonica and- and- and!

Beauty galloped across the ward and practically flung herself at the grey stallion, just before noticing that he had an IV connected. The blue mare gasped, placing a hoof against her mouth. “Dan, is it this serious?”

“What?” Professor Dan managed a smile. “Serious?” He waved his hoof in the air. (With difficulty.) “Who’s being serious here. Nothing serious. Just a case of I’m-no-hero.”

“But you are.” Beauty put her hoof on Professor Dan’s hoof gently, stroking the stallion’s fur lightly. “You are my hero.” Then, she leant in very slowly and kissed the grey cheek. Professor Dan wished he could move his head, turn away, to hide both embarrassment and pain, but all he could do was lie there and blush.

“Are you two gonna have sex now?” Vinyl’s voice reached Professor Dan’s ears. “Cause if you are, can I watch? I mean, I’m a filly-fooler but I think you two fucking on a hospital bed would be so hot!”

Octavia’s patented Hoof of Justice landed a perfect blow on the back of Vinyl’s head. Professor Dan suddenly felt very grateful.

“Vinyl, that’s so distasteful,” Octavia chided while Professor Dan sent her a mental thank-you.

“That’s from another show,” Vinyl mumbled while rubbing the back of her head. “Now you have to kiss it to make it better, Tavi!”

“Oh, I will kiss it all right,” Octavia growled, raising her hoof again. “I will teach you some discipline and self-restraint.”

“Which is funny,” Vinyl picked up immediately, “because you are usually the one who loves spanking during sexy times.”

“Oh, sexy times, huh?” Octavia advanced on Vinyl, creating an interesting scene for the little ponies in Beauty and Professor Dan’s heads. “Do I need to remind you who sleeps like a log and turns away from my gentle ministrations?”

“They… They do realise we can hear them, right?” Beauty wondered aloud, blinking at the situation. “It looks like they are the ones who will be having sex here so we better leave.”

“Don’t leave, Bea.”

What the fuck did I just say? The little pony in Professor Dan’s head began to run around frantically and shout, I didn’t just say that! I didn’t just say that!

“Oh.” Beauty blinked.

“Ooh.” Octavia smiled.

“Ohhohoooh.” Vinyl grinned.

Slowly, the two musical mares began to shift towards the exit, exchanging knowing glances. Swiftly, they were gone. Once Octavia closed the door to the ward, Vinyl burst out into laughter. “Damn, how didn’t I see that?”

“Because you are silly.” Octavia kissed Vinyl’s forehead with a tiny peck. “Now, how long should we wait here for those two to be done?”

“Well, I’d give them about ten minutes.” Vinyl shrugged.

“Well,” Octavia retorted, “that’s your standard. Let’s go grab a bite. I’m sure those two have a lot to talk about.”

***

“And then I said-”

“Bea.”

“What?..”

“Bea, listen to me for a moment.”

“Dan, I’m listening.”

“Where are we going with this, Bea?”

“...”

“What are we… I mean, don’t you think…”

“I don’t think, Dan. I feel.”

“Didn’t you ever think you were, uh, attracted to me because of the pills?”

“I did. I still think so.”

“Then maybe we should-”

“Maybe we should try, Dan. Maybe we should see where we’ll go with all of this.”

“...”

“Don’t you like me, Dan? I think you do. And I like you. What’s the-”

“The problem is that it’s so wrong!”

“There is nothing wrong with liking somepony, Dan.”

“Bea…”

“Kiss me.”

“I can’t.”

“Dan, kiss me.”

“I really can’t.”

“If you like me-”

“Bea, I cannot literally lift my head.”

A chuckle. Another one. Mild, good-natured laughter. A blue head on a grey chest. A sigh. Curtain.

***

It’s so wrong. So wrong on so many levels. We cannot fall in love. This is ridiculous. Am I overusing the word ‘ridiculous’? Because that’s ridiculous.

Why the hell did I… Uh! It’s complicated, so complicated. Why can’t life ever be simple? The way she kissed me goodbye… Diary, nopony has ever kissed me with such passion and yet with such resignation. I feel goofy and weird.

Then again, it could be the painkillers.

I have no idea what we’re going to do next. Well, I have. First, deal with Bea’s problems. Then, deal with her father. And then, only then should I have the time to think about myself. Now, it’s all for her.

With that, Diary, I’m going to sleep unless- Oh.

***

Professor Dan hid his diary under the pillow immediately, just as the nurse walked into the ward, holding in her telekinetic grip an envelope. “Thought it would be too late for post?” The stallion smiled.

“This is important mail,” the nurse replied seriously. Then the stallion saw the stamp. “It’s from the Prosecutor’s office, with his personal seal.”

Professor Dan just grinned widely, grinned and grinned till the nurse left and he could finally laugh.

***

The wheels are set in motion, Diary. The wheels have been set in motion.

A genius Professor Dan, November 15th

November 16th

Dear Diary,

Why are mares so ugh! So we went home, I mean, to Dan’s home, Vinyl and Octavia and I, and they decided to stay the night with me. (Thankfully, they didn’t, you know.) But in the morning… ugh! Stupid, silly in the head, and- ugh!

How cannot they understand how romantically involved with Dan I am? That it is a pure, higher relationship we’ll be having? That- ugh, again!

***

“I think they did it.”

Vinyl grinned, nodding energetically from her place on the sofa. “Oh yes, Tavi, I am sure they did it.” She glanced at Beauty, who was doing a great job of concentrating on the chess board. “I think they even did it twice.”

Beauty exhaled loudly, but kept thinking about her next turn. Finally, she was interested in doing something other than talking and sleeping, but, due to the depression still having a hold of her, she could not concentrate on two things at once. Or so she told herself.

“Why, my dear Vinyl,” Octavia replied in a posh tone, scrutinising the board as she sat opposite Beauty on the floor, “I am adamant they did it. Didn’t you?” she addressed the blue mare with a big smile.

“No, we didn’t.” Beauty finally decided on a E4-E5 from the pawn. Something familiar, at least. “We just cuddled a little.”

“But you wanted to do it, right?” Vinyl wondered, not dropping her grin, leaning off the sofa upside down in such a manner that the lower part of her body was still on the plush. “Admit it, you wanted him real bad.”

“No!” Beauty blushed, watching Octavia counter the move with a knight skilfully. Upon two heavy stares, she sighed. “Yes. Maybe. A little.” Catching the knowing looks, she burst out: “But he’s so fragile right now! He couldn’t even lift his head to kiss me, so I had to take the matter into my own, erm, lips?”

Octavia chuckled good-naturedly, awaiting a turn from the blushing blue mare. “Oh, he would have kissed you so much if he was physically able. I mean, have you seen the way he looks at you?”

Beauty toyed with the king. “Octavia. I, I, uh, really thought I liked you.” She looked into the mare’s wide-open lavender eyes. “But I don’t like you. I mean, I don’t like you like a mare. I am pretty sure I don’t like mares.” She shook her head and heard a tiny sigh of relief from the grey mare. “But I think we can be friends. Right?”

“Of course, Beauty.” Octavia extended her hoof and let the blue mare shake it fondly. “Friends. And project mates.”

“Of course.” The vocalist shook her head. “I can’t believe I put you through so much. We’ll start on our project once Dan is out of hospital. I think I’ll have gotten better by then.”

“That’s super cool,” came Vinyl’s voice from the sofa. “But if you ever think you’re a little into mares, Beauty, then a threesome with me and Octy is always an answer.”

A chuckle from Beauty couldn’t precede the swiftness of Octavia’s mighty kick.

***

“So the mighty Professor Dan is dating a high schooler.”

The lawyer scrunched his nose - which was the only gesture he could do without evoking a world of pain upon himself. “A uni student, Margaret. Not a high schooler.”

“Yeah, well, whatever.” A beige unicorn flexed his muscles, getting a deadpan from the female pegasus. “Still, Dan, that’s kinda… I mean, have you two-”

“No, we haven’t!” Professor Dan glared at both of his friends. “Seriously, Mercutio, get your head out of the gutter. We’ve only kissed once or twice.”

“So,” Margaret concluded, “you have completely gone off the rocket. Crazy in the head. What happened to that hot griffin chick?” The pegasus sat on the side of the hospital bed.

“We broke up.” Professor Dan would have shrugged if he could. “Seriously, guys, thanks for checking up on me, but I think Bea and I might work.”

Mercutio grinned. “So, when you two will-”

“Why do you even care?” Margaret narrowed her eyes dangerously, as if protecting her bed-confined friend. “You’re gay as fuck.”

“I’m only gay because I got to date you in high school,” Mercutio argued, but, before the argument could escalate, Professor Dan groaned loudly.

“Seriously, you two are unbearable. Get out of my sight.”

“Ah, of course.” The pegasus pshed and rose, aiming for the exit. “You have an important appointment with an important lawyer pony so you don’t have time for your two friends since foalhood.”

“Oh come on!” Professor Dan tried to protest, but the duet were gone. They would visit again, he was sure. But right now…

“So, Dan, you given it any thought?”

Professor Dan looked at the newcomer, a bright pink pony with a dark mane, who didn’t seem menacing at all - but who was, nevertheless, the city’s general prosecutor. With whom he’d had so many clashes in the past, as a defence attorney… “Not even a greeting, old friend?”

“I’m a busy pony,” the prosecutor replied seriously, not a touch of smile at his lips. “This is a serious matter. You want me to go at one of Equestria’s finest business stallions, renowned, with connections and enough money to bribe the entire law enforcement system. But, lucky for you, I want to get him too. But there’s still a price you have to pay.”

“I know.” Professor Dan sighed and closed his eyes. “Who do you want?”

“Hoity Toity.”

“Seriously?” Professor Dan blinked in surprise. “My least favourite client?... Well, you can have him, I guess…”

“I need an adamant answer.” The prosecutor chewed on his bottom lip. “And I don’t care if you like him or not. He is your client. And I need him.”

He tapped his hoof against the floor. “I need ‘Hoity Toity’. I need Immanuel Staccato.”

***

“We have a track.”

Octavia blinked and looked carefully at Vinyl, who was munching on cereal happily. In the evening. A little punny pony appeared in Octavia’s head, a pony with time-reversing powers, for some reason. Oh no you don’t-! the usual little pony shouted, but Octavia had already asked: “Are you cereal?”

Now it was Vinyl’s turn to blink. “Did you just-”

“Yes, yes.” Octavia sighed. “I have committed a pun. Which was a disgrace to my whole generation. But seriously, Vinyl, a track?”

“Yup!” The unicorn nodded happily, proceeding with her cereal. “A whole track!”

“And…” Octavia asked carefully, “how many tracks should there be on your CD?”

“About twelve, I guess?” Vinyl scratched the back of her head. “Ten, at least.”

“Maybe,” Octavia suggested carefully, “you two should release a single and then-”

“No.” Vinyl shook her head in determination. “We are recording a CD, and we will have a CD.”

Octavia just waved her hooves in the air in acceptance. Then picked up her toast with marmalade. Because this isn’t a morning food. Not like cereal. Then, as if to change the subject, she asked the question that had been bothering her for a while: “Vinyl. Do you think I could… meet Neon?”

Vinyl paused in her stuffing-of-the-stomach and looked at her marefriend with deep, serious eyes. “Do you really want to?”

“I think,” Octavia said, “that I trust you enough for me to meet Neon and talk to him freely. And I think you trust me enough to let me talk to him.”

Vinyl smiled. “Come here, you silly pone. I’m gonna kiss you real good.”

***

She did kiss me ‘real good’.

And, uh, did something else. I mean, did you know that rope could be used that way? I didn’t, Diary. I didn’t. Now I do, and it both scares and arouses me.

But, arousement aside, I really need to get my shit together. Get it in a tight backpack and, you know, get it together. Project with Beauty, Beauty’s treatment, Vinyl’s project, Neon, and I still need to get Vinyl to see a shrink about her little sister.

So much to do!

Oh, and we should really meet up with Lyra and Bon-Bon. Haven’t seen them in a while.

But, chances are, Lyra already knows why.

Octavia Philarmonica, November 16th

***

Yes, I do.

Lyra Heartstrings, November 16th

November 19th

Dear Diary,

Sorry for stealing you from Octavia. I don’t think she’s been using you much anyway. Well, apart from documenting our wild sexual adventures. Sorry for that, Diary. I’ll talk to her not to embarrass you that way. After all, you never get laid. Sorry for that, too.

You know, I just wanted to say that, with Octavia by my side, I’ve finally begun to sleep well. I haven’t had nightmares in a long, long while, and I think I can finally come to terms with what I’ve done and what I could have done and what I could not do.

And I think that, with her by my side, I can finally find absolution.

***

“Name?”

“Hoity Toity.”

“Real name.”

“Immanuel Staccato.”

“Occupation?”

“I am an entrepreneur.”

“No, you aren’t.”

The well-groomed, but pretty roughed up, stallion looked up, his hooves cuffed in front of him on the table, while the pink pony opposite him rose and turned off the camera. Immanuel Staccato - or, as the name he’d made for himself went, Hoity Toity - did not want to show any fear, but the way he’d been brought here was far from pleasant. He did not know what those ponies wanted from him… Of course, if only they had found… No, they couldn’t have found out, because Dan was an honourable stallion who’d always helped him-

“You are a dirty tax evader, that’s your occupation.”

The dark grey stallion tried to cower, or inch back, but the blow came too swiftly, right on the back of the head. It wasn’t a particularly hard blow, but it was well-practised, and came from somepony who wasn’t new to beating other ponies up. “Wait till my lawyer gets here!” Hoity Toity faked anger, hiding behind fear and pain, and expectation of another blow.

Which came in time, on the stomach, making the grey stallion retch and roll on the floor.

“He isn’t coming, you idiot,” the pink pony hissed at the prisoner, leaning over, looming over the beaten-up stallion dangerously. “He is the one who gave you away.”

“I have rights!” Hoity Toity tried to get up, but the floor seemed more and more enticing with each second. “I am the accused, and I have the right-”

Another blow preceded the tirade, this time on the mouth. Hoity Toity felt several teeth breaking from the mighty kick. “You don’t have any rights. We have your accounts. You are already a convict, Immanuel Staccato. In fact,” the prosecutor grinned, “you are already a prisoner.”

***

“How was uni?”

Beauty sighed, burying her head in Dan’s armpit. This, here, was serenity. This wasn’t exactly happiness; they weren’t at the point where his mere presence could bring her happiness. Maybe this was a lie, and no lover was at a point where their lover’s mere presence could bring them happiness. Maybe their relationship was… The mare took a deep breath. It was weird. But it was serenity.

“It was all right,” Beauty replied, nuzzling into Dan’s fur, relaxed and tranquil. “Just like any other day. We started working on the project again, Octavia and I.” The blue mare winced for a moment. “We’ve started from scratch.” Not voicing, of course, the reason behind that. “You know,” she said suddenly, confiding in the stallion she felt such warmth towards, “I have so much to do. I haven’t had my medical evaluation yet, and the project, and I still have to register some courseworks…”

“I understand.” Dan smiled, stroking Beauty’s mane gently. “I know you have a lot to do, Bea. I’ll understand if you need to go now. After all,” he laughed, “I’m not going anywhere yet.” He felt better; but not well enough to move around further than to the bathroom. Not well enough to… No, of course not. If Bea didn’t want this… He would ask, of course, but, but if she didn’t want this, he would wait. Forever, if necessary.

“You are so kind,” Beauty purred in bliss. “I cannot wait till you can go home and we… And we, um.” She blushed, looking away and chiding herself immediately. I am not a little filly, why am I getting embarrassed about this? And yet, her heart fluttered, and her body ached for intimacy with Dan. Her mind filled up with endorphins at the mere thought of the well-built stallion on top of her… or, maybe, of her on top of him… Or, maybe…

“Don’t rush it, Bea.” Dan sighed, looking away in the distance. “First things first. We have to deal with your father, then we can think about…” Suddenly he found himself blushing as well. “Um, other things.”

“Have you…” Beauty sighed as well, her eyes still closed. “Have you found a way to-”

“I think I have.” Dan frowned, and pushed the mare away slightly, prompting her to open her eyes and look into his. “But there is a price I had to pay. A client.”

“Isn’t that against lawyer ethics?” Beauty wondered softly, feeling an uneasy feeling in her stomach, the kind of feeling that wouldn’t go away with a simple kiss.

“Bea,” Dan replied very seriously. “When it comes down to ethics and you, I’ll choose you every time.” With that, he leant in and kissed the mare on the lips, not the passionate kisses they’d shared before, but more of a sealed pact, an acknowledgement, a contract.

“Dan…” Beauty stood up after the kiss, stretching her limbs, which hurt from the uncomfortable hospital bed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Professor Dan smiled the kind of smile that made the young mare melt and want to forever lie in his embrace. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Bea.”

Beauty nodded. Then, took out an envelope from her saddlebag. “Here, the nurse said this is for you.”

Dan nodded and watched the mare depart, slow-pace. He shut his eyes and opened them again, tearing the envelope apart. Inside, there was a short hoof-written note:

Package received. The wheels are set in motion.

***

Jeffrey had been a butler for a long, long time. Throughout his finest years, he had acquired an ear for door-knocking. Simple knocking could say oh so much about the pony who was committing the action. There were shy, tiny knocks of early lovebirds; there were demanding knocks of policeponies; there were uncertain knocking of couriers - and then there was this knocking.

The grey stallion shifted towards the door, wondering at the knocker’s persistence. Immediately he had recognised the knocking as female, and already pictured a plump, stately mare in a fur coat.

And, indeed, it was just such a mare. Such a mare, who almost stormed past the butler - but Jeffrey was skilful enough to precede her with a side-step. “Excuse me, Miss?” he wondered as politely as he could muster.

The white unicorn with a long, flowing blue mane stopped, glaring at the butler. Now he saw how reminiscing she was of Young Miss’s marefriend; but surely she cannot… “Is this the place where they keep my daughter?” she demanded in a loud voice.

“Miss, I am adamant that-” Jeffrey began, but, from the stairs, came the surprised voice of Octavia:

“Jeffrey, who is this?” The grey mare descended the stairs, followed by Vinyl, who froze in place upon seeing the visitor. Immediately, Octavia noticed her marefriend’s dismay. “Who are you?” she addressed the plump mare with hostility. Vinyl began to tremble slightly. “You are scaring my marefriend! Jeffrey, tell her to leave!”

“Oh, look who we’ve got here!” The mare’s face brightened with a smile. “If it isn’t Vinyl, my little sibling-killer!”

Vinyl screamed.

***

If there is a hell, I hope I burn there instead of being here.

Vinyl Scratch, November 19th

November 20th

Dear Diary,

Thank Celestia we made her leave. Well, Octavia’s mom made her leave. But she made her leave on the promise that she could be back today. I don’t want to see my mother. Ever. Especially after… How could she bring it up… How could she? She fucking shouldn’t have!

Needless to say, even in Octavia’s embrace, I didn’t sleep. Now I can only hope that I can have my breakfast in peace before she comes again…

***

Vinyl couldn’t have her breakfast in peace. The tension was electrifying. She, by Octavia’s side, sipping coffee - or, rather, trying to. Octavia, looking at the guest with ill-concealed anger and disgust. Unperturbed Jeffrey. And, of course, the smiling face of Octavia’s mother, her emotions concealed beneath the mask of politeness.

“Would you like some more tea, Miss Staccato?” Jeffrey asked with cold politeness, taking a step towards Vinyl’s mother with the teapot. For a moment, he glanced at the DJ with an unreadable expression that gave Vinyl neither confidence nor serenity.

“Missis Staccato,” Vinyl’s mother corrected with a sickly frown, accepting the tea for granted. “My husband may be in custody but he is still alive.” With that, she took up the cup with dignity, the kind of dignity that only comes with maturing late, in an abusive relationship, after years of wasting your life in a poor district without a father figure by your side.

“Dad is in custody?” Vinyl’s mouth dropped open - and her heart fluttered in glee. I hope they beat him up real bad there… Maybe they’ll kill him? A little devil in Vinyl’s head nodded: Hope so too! A little angel in Vinyl’s head frowned: Maybe they’ll… kill him nicely?

“Don’t act so surprised, dear,” Vinyl’s mother emphasised, taking a sip of her tea, scrunching her face at Jeffrey, who, she realised, had poured the tea cold. “His lawyer gave the prosecution proof that Immanuel is guilty of tax evasion.”

“Well, that’s cause he is!” Vinyl grinned in her mother’s face, feeling a little bolder with Octavia’s hoof in her lap. Bolder, and a little horny. Okay, more than a little. Okay, a lot. One way or another, she knew just what she would do once this whole thing was over. And it better involve the riding crop. “I’m glad he’s going to prison.”

“Such insolence!” The fat mare shook her head. “He put bread and butter on your table. He gave you a flat where you could live till you grew eighteen!”

“Well,” Vinyl countered boldly, “I am eighteen now and I don’t need your bread and butter and your flat. I have Octavia, and yes I like mares!” With that, Vinyl kissed her marefriend on the lips, evoking a gasp from her mother. Octavia blinked, surprised but content.

“Vinyl, let’s not turn this into a show,” Octavia’s mother pleaded - even though a tiny smile on her face mixed strangely with pride in her eyes. “Eleanore, would you like some sugar with your tea?”

“Eleanore?” Octavia blinked, looking first at her mother, then at Vinyl’s. “Your mother’s name is also Eleanore?” This was… blasphemy. It seemed obscene. This mare, who’d tortured Vinyl, albeit mentally - and this was still a valid form of torture - couldn’t share a name with her mother, kind, gentle, and caring. She just… couldn’t.

“I will be back.” The wrong Eleanore stood up and headed for the exit.

“I don’t think so,” Octavia spoke up, getting up as well, releasing the pleasant pressure on Vinyl’s lap. “You are seriously wrong if you think I will allow somepony who calls Vinyl bad names into our house!”

Vinyl’s smugness disappear in a matter of seconds. She looked at Octavia with fear and opened her mouth, but the wrong Eleanore had already begun speaking.

“Oh, really? Remember when we took Melody on vacation, Vinyl?”

Vinyl shook her head, shutting her eyes tight, and shook and shook her head and hoped it would pop off.

“We told you you weren’t invited.” Vinyl’s mother smiled an oily smile. “But you sneaked in on the vacation, Vinyl, didn’t you?”

“Shut up.” Vinyl took a deep breath. “Shut up.”

“You were always jealous of Melody, Vinyl. You knew there were cliffs down there.”

“Shut up shut up shut up!”

“You said, ‘Hey, I’ve got your back’. Didn’t you, Vinyl? And then she jumped, and-”

Vinyl screamed and ran into the older mare, pinning her to the floor, her hooves pounding the flesh of the mare automatically, destroying bones, leaving horrific bruises. “Shut up shut up shut up!” Vinyl kept yelling while Eleanore and Jeffrey tried, vainly, to get her off the wrong Eleanore. Nothing could help, and Vinyl already lowered her horn and pointed it at her mother.

Nothing could help - apart from a grey hoof gently pressing on Vinyl’s shoulder. “Vinyl, love, don’t.”

Vinyl stopped and looked at Octavia helplessly. The grey mare took her marefriend in her hooves and began planting soothing kisses on her muzzle. “She’s not worth it, love,” Octavia whispered into Vinyl’s ear, nibbling on it. “She’s not worth it.” Repeating that, the cellist slowly took her DJ away upstairs, while Jeffrey ran for the ambulance.

In a while, there was only silence, and small, quiet sobs coming from the bedroom.

***

If she is alive, I will murder her myself.

How dare she-! Do this to my Vinyl. How dare she do this to my Vinyl?!! Accusing her of… But if Vinyl got so angry over it, doesn’t that mean that… No, of course not. I will talk to her tomorrow and everything will be just fine. Vinyl, stop looking over my sho-

I KILLED MELODY I KILLED MELODY I KILLED MELODY I KILL-

Vinyl, stop!

O.P., November 20th

November 25th

Dear Diary,

Today I have learnt-

“Do I really have to do this?”

Octavia diverted her attention from writing and, upon seeing Vinyl’s fear and dismay, put the diary away in her saddlebag. “Yes, Vinyl, love. The doctor will just talk to you.”

“I’m not like Beauty Brass,” Vinyl said quietly, looking around the waiting room, with paintings of cheerful, bright ponies on the walls and soothing jazz music coming from the speakers. “I am not off the rocket. I am not depressed. I am not ill.”

“Of course you aren’t,” Octavia cooed and kissed her marefriend on the cheek, disregarding what the other patients may think about such a show of emotion. “You just need to talk to a professional, and that is all.”

Just as the speakers began to blare with Coltrane’s I’m Old Fashioned, a young pink mare came into the room. Her cheerful demeanour seemed honest, but was setting Vinyl at unease. “Hi, you must be Vinyl?” she addressed the white mare without mistake - but with a smile. “I’m Doctor Quickhoof, and I think you and I wanted to have a talk.” She winked.

That wasn’t very effective…

“I don’t wanna talk,” Vinyl grumbled, pointing an accusing hoof at Octavia. “My marefriend wants me to talk to you.”

“Oh,” the pink mare nodded, “my marefriend’s worse: she wants me to talk dirty to her.” The doctor paused. “I could tell you but you look underage so-”

“I’m eighteen!” Vinyl protested while Octavia smiled at the little show: she knew very well the doctor, by now, knew every little detail there was to know about Vinyl. She, Octavia, had provided them.

“Then I can tell you all about it,” Doctor Quickhoof assured with a broad smile. “But you have to talk to me too.”

Vinyl pondered for a moment, rubbing her chin. Octavia gulped. Then the DJ’s face brightened. “Deal! But you gotta tell me all the juicy details so I know how to treat Tavi in bed!”

“Vinyl!” Octavia tried, but the white mare was already up, following the doctor to the office. The cellist sighed and smiled in content. She took the diary out of her saddlebag and wrote down:

At least she will be getting help.

***

“It’s good to finally be home.”

Dan sighed, throwing the keys on the little glass table. He marched straight into the bedroom, finally, at long last, falling onto the large, king-sized bed and closing his eyes in bliss. “Oh how I missed you, bed,” he confessed, nuzzling the sheets. “I missed you so much.”

“Dan.”

The lawyer looked up, with some difficulty - but didn’t regret doing that. Before him lingered Bea, a thin blush on her cheeks, smiling shyly… and in lingerie. Dan’s jaw fell agape. “B-b-bea?” he stammered, burying himself into the sheets, trying vainly to conceal his growing excitement… and excitement wasn’t the only thing that was growing.

“Do you think I look nice?” Beauty enquired shyly, knowing very well the answer her to-be lover was going to give.

“You look gorgeous,” Dan whispered and tried to back down on the bed, fearful of the lust that was taking over him. He couldn’t really… What if he… And what if she…

But here she was, already crawling onto the bed. Here she was, kissing him sensually on the lips, and then on the neck, moving lower and lower and lower…

“Bea,” Dan tried to stop the mare. “I… Do you think you really want it?..” He frowned, which was a feat in the wake of his terrible arousal. “If you don’t want-”

“Shush,” Bea said with a sensual smile. “I want you.”

And then she got down to the prize. Her licks were slow and uneasy, but not unwanted. Dan moaned in delight, his hooves automatically extending towards Beaty’s head, but withdrawing with fear. So Beauty withdrew as well. “Do it,” she whispered. “Take my head and impale it with your shaft.”

Dan couldn’t take it anymore. But, instead of complying with the mare of his dreams, he rolled her over and locked their lips in the kiss that surprised Bea, who, in her innocence, believed that she wouldn’t get kissed after a fellatio. Then he made his way lower and reached her marehood with practised ease, caressing and licking it, taking his turns, feeling the taste of his mare on his lips.

“All right, that’s enough,” Bea moaned despite herself. “Come on and fuck me.”

And so he did.

***

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Octavia smiled silently as the two mares made their way home. The snow had already begun to fall faintly upon the world, and it was getting chilly, but, by Vinyl’s side, she felt warm.

“I mean, we got to talk, and now I can lick you even better!”

Octavia nodded shyly, knowing that, behind the boastful facade, there was still a damaged and hurt mare. But, with the help of a professional… Maybe Vinyl would become her usual self. Octavia’s thoughts lingered on that idea. What was Vinyl’s usual self? She had met Vinyl when the mare was already damaged, already broken. But when Vinyl was whole… Wouldn’t she just… leave her? Leave her for some better mare?

Before such thoughts could surface with more integrity, the cellist saw, out of the corner of her eye, two policeponies emerging from around the corner and approaching them. Memories of Stalliongrad entered her mind and unease crept into her imagination.

Yet, Vinyl was the cheerful one, waving at Equestria’s Finest in a friendly manner. “Hi, guys!” she greeted the two policeponies, a mare and a stallion. Why was there?.. Octavia remembered professor Dan’s words: “There are usually both a mare and a stallion on patrolling teams so that they can stop-and-search a pony of any sex.”

So prosaic, the little pony in Octavia’s head sighed.

“We are not here to chat, Miss Scratch,” the policemare said seriously. “We are here to take you for questioning.”

***

When you have this ability to foresee everything, to know everything about everypony, sometimes you get unwanted images. Like of Dan and Beauty. Having sex. Or should I say, making love? They sure seem like they’re making love.

But… the penis.

Eww straight.

Lyra Heartstrings, November 25th I don’t even own a diary

November 26th

Dear Diary,

This is insane! Why did they take Vinyl in for questioning? And they won’t even let me into the police station, much less let me talk to her. I am so furious but I just cannot do anything! Is this why Mom used to be a rebel? I can understand now. When you are not trying to break the system, the system is breaking you.

But here is the rub: no matter how hard you try, the system will always be breaking you. It is a horseshoe stomping on an equine muzzle forever.

Oh, screw all that philosophy! I just want to see Vinyl sound and safe!

They’ve had her there for what, like, an hour? An hour and a half? Two hours?

Of course Mom and Jeffrey wouldn’t want me to be here, in the cold, but how can it be otherwise? Vinyl is my marefriend, and as soon as they had scheduled the questioning for today, I knew at once there was something fishy here. Usually they question you straightaway. But not now.

I also have a feeling Mom and Jeffrey didn’t go too far from here and are waiting for me in the bushes.

...No, that would be silly. Right?

...Right?

***

“That would actually be pretty funny.”

Octavia yelped and shut her diary close, falling off the steps to the police station. Landing precisely into a pile of snow. Immediately, she glared at Lyra, who was standing above her, grinning, and Bon-Bon, who was giggling as she covered her mouth with a hoof. “Har har har.” Octavia sighed and got up, brushing the snow off her coat. “What would be pretty funny?”

“Jeffrey hiding in a bush,” Lyra explained, “because Jeffrey is actually- oh wait.” She facehooved and ceased talking. At Octavia’s quizzical expression, she elaborated, “It’s too soon for you to know that. The readers either.”

“What readers?” Octavia blinked.

“Roll with it,” Bon-Bon whispered audibly. “It’s Lyra we’re talking about here, all right?”

“So what are you guys doing here?” Octavia questioned. “Cause- Oh right.” She squinted her eyes at Lyra. “You know, Lyra, sometimes I think that-”

Lyra grinned. “Three, two, one…”

“Hey, Tavi?”

“Vinyl!” Octavia yelped, galloping towards her marefriend, disregarding the policepony escorting her out of the building. “Vinyl, please tell me you’re all right!” Or else-! The little pony in Octavia’s head had taken out a shotgun.

“I’m fine!” the white pony grinned, almost making Octavia collapse on the ground from relief. “They just talked to me a lot, and gave me tea and biscuits!”

“Vinyl, I was so worried!” The grey mare threw herself at her marefriend, embracing her and kissing her all over the muzzle. “What did they talk to you about?” she wondered, casting a glare at the policepony-escort, who’d just shrugged and was walking away into the police station again.

“Oh, you know.” Vinyl smirked and waved her hoof in the air - but her expression remained worried, as if she hadn’t managed to hide behind the light-hearted facade she’d built all those years ago. “Can’t Lyra just tell you that and you and I go have some kinky time? Oh, even better!” The DJ smiled and hugged Octavia back sensually. “How about Lyra tells us that while we have some kinky time?”

Octavia was too relieved to even slap her silly marefriend. Still, there was an issue to address. “Vinyl, love. What did they talk to you about?”

Vinyl’s smile faded as she looked away from Lyra and Bon-Bon and Octavia and into the snowy present of Equestria. “My dad. They talked to me about my dad. The way he treated me. I told them what I could. They promised they would jail him for that too and can we really not talk about that right now?”

Octavia opened her mouth, but Lyra chimed in immediately: “Right! How about we go drinking-” Catching Octavia’s glare, she quickly amended, “coffee? How about we go drink some coffee right now?”

“I can roll with that.” Vinyl smiled in Octavia’s embrace.

“Just wear some scarves, dears!” came Eleanore’s voice from behind the bushes.

Octavia didn’t even facehoof.

***

Aren’t you just thankful for certain things, Diary?

Like when you were expecting something bad and it turned out all right? I wonder if this is the reason why we can’t truly feel happy. We have to expect the worst because, if we are aimed at the positivity, the fall down to reality is sometimes way too painful.

The climb up, it turns out, is much, much easier. I wonder what Lyra and Bon-Bon are doing. They are probably doing what Vinyl and I were doing some five minutes ago. And will be doing in half an hour, when Vinyl has caught up her breath.

...I wonder what Beauty and Dan are doing too. And I really, really hope it isn’t something sexual.

A very relieved Octavia, November 26th

***

Dan put away the newspaper in irritation. The news wasn’t getting any better with each passing day. If anything, the world was getting more crooked, more sly, more ambitious. And it was killing him on the inside that he was part of that world. That he had spent his life helping the world become that way.

He looked at Beauty, who was lounging on the couch, humming some tune under her nose. The tune changed as she scribbled some notes on a piece of paper, replacing the old ones. This was good. This, here, was stability. Stability in change.

The mare caught his gaze and smiled radiantly at him. “What’s the matter, Dan? Thinking about how to name our firstborn?”

It was a good thing the lawyer wasn’t drinking his tea at the moment. Because he would have easily spat it out. “W-what?” He looked at the blue mare in deep fear. “You’re pregnant?”

“What?” Beauty Brass laughed, shaking her head in dismissal. “No, I was just messing around with you. Do you think a B or a B-flat would be good here?”

“I have no idea about either,” Dan confessed, getting up from the table and approaching the couch. “And don’t give me the ‘but you work at RUMMS’ look.”

“I won’t,” Bea promised and slid away, patting the space next to her. “I’ll give you one of my ‘let’s cuddle in this winter cold’ looks.”

Dan lay down next to his lover and closed his eyes in bliss and relaxation. Somewhere in Equestria, there was a wild snowstorm brewing on. Somewhere in Equestria, there were cries of injustice and unrest. Somewhere in Equestria, ponies died at the frontline.

But here, there was only love.

October 19th

Dear Diary,

Today sucked. It sucked so much. It sucked donkey balls. No offence to donkeys. You won’t believe what happened!

And yes, it is connected with Beauty Brass. It all began with her. With her, discussing Frederic! My best friend! I still don’t get how he can date her… I need to talk to him, seriously and soon.

And to think, that he would buy her a necklace!

***

“And Frederic bought me this lovely necklace!”

Several mares gasped as Beauty Brass took out a silver necklace from her saddlebags and put it on. “Lovely, don’t you think?” She spun round, much to the awe of the aforementioned mares, who were standing in a circle around her in the corner of the classroom.

Octavia groaned and, squinting her eyes, huffed. “Is it bad that I want to murder her?” the cellist asked Lyra, who was not paying attention to the showing-off of the jewellery. “Just a little,” Octavia clarified. “Not murder her much, just… a little.” The little pony in Octavia’s head put on a wig: According to the Shadow Proclamation- Octavia told that little pony to shut the hell up.

“You’re being biased,” Lyra offered, scribbling doodles in her notebook, much to the joy of Bon-Bon, who was sitting nearby. “She’s just chatting about her coltfriend doing something good for her - and you’re making a scene.”

“I’m making a scene?” Octavia put her hoof to her chest in an offended manner. “I am not the one who put her evil charms on my best friend. I am not the one, who, who - who dares sleep with him!” the cellist said a little louder, slamming her hoof against the desk.

Beauty turned to the source of the sound and turned to Octavia slowly with a grin. “What? You jealous I am the one who rules over Freddie’s cock?”

Lyra grabbed the grey mare in time. “Let me go!” Octavia hissed, trying to free herself from the unicorn’s grasp. “I will kill her! I will her dead and bury her body in a-!”

However, the exact location of the burial would forever remain a mystery, for at that exact moment in came a middle-aged earth pony, beige in colour, and with an already greying mane. Every sound ceased, and everypony stood up as the beige stallion took his place at the teacher’s desk. He chewed on his lip and looked over the ponies. “First years, right?”

Some ponies nodded meekly, some whispered, “Yes” - and only Beauty smiled diamondly and offered a, “Yes, Mr Dean, Sir.”

The dean of the classical faculty chewed on his lips again and began speaking very quietly. “You all know you have to do a project for the end of the semester.” A perfect silence enveloped the room, with silent nods all around. “Well, I am afraid that we cannot give you the freedom to choose your partner.” Several gasps, a small whisper, then silence again. “You must understand that it is crucial for a classical musician to be able to play in any ensemble, with any orchestra.” Octavia immediately imagined herself as the soloist and smiled dreamily. “We also believe that teamwork is essential even for future soloists…” Octavia gulped. “This is why we’ve decided not to give you a chance to perform solo.” At the hushed whispers, the dean smiled. “Don’t worry, you’ll all get a chance to prove yourself solo at the practical exam at the end of the course.” Sour winces all around.

The dean stood up and took out a paper from his leather saddlebag. “We’ve chosen pairs based on how your instruments can benefit each other. I will not read it out, but you can all come up to my desk and see it for yourselves. The list will be on at my office, visible to everypony.” Octavia’s eyes shone for a moment. Maybe they’ve paired me with Vinyl? I mean, cello and turntables would make a peculiar mix… “Naturally, you have all been paired within the classical faculty.” Octavia’s ears fell. Well damn.

Lyra had already walked towards the exit. “Come on, Bonnie, they’ve paired us up.”

The dean’s ears perked up. “How did you-” He cast a glance at the lyrist’s cutie mark. “Ah. Yes. Lyra Heartstrings.” He chewed on his lips again. “Remarkable. Just remarkable.”

But Octavia did not hear what Lyra had to reply. She could only stare at the list and stare and stare and read and read again and not believe her own eyes. “I’m sorry, sir,” she addressed the dean boldly - or, rather, without thinking. “There must be a mistake here. It says that I, Octavia Philarmonica, have been paired with a Beauty Brass.”

“What?” Beauty shifted towards the desk, elbowing her way ruthlessly. She glanced at the list. “Yes, sir, there is definitely a mistake here. I cannot be paired with, with…” A sour expression appeared on her face, as if she’d just chewed on a lemon. “With her.”

“I share the sentiment.” Octavia squinted her eyes. “Regarding her.” The little pony in her head took up a stick and glared violently at the pony next to her.

“Ladies,” the dean said calmly after chewing on his lips some more. “The list is set in stone. Octavia’s masterful cello play will be complemented with Beauty’s vocal skill.” It felt weird, hearing a professor address the students by their first names, but he was the dean, and, from what the older students were saying, had a fatherly compassion for all his students. “I didn’t make the list. Your professors and assistant professors did. So please, put aside whatever differences you might have, and focus on the project instead.”

The two mares just stood there before Beauty huffed and, tossing her mane, walked out of the classroom in a dignified trot. “Unbelievable!”

“Unbelievable…” Octavia whispered as well and gave her place to the ponies queuing up to see with whom they’d been paired up. Just as she walked out of the classroom, a smiling and cheerful Vinyl appeared, side by side with a weird blue stallion, with a strange mane, his eyes completely shielded by purple shades. Octavia winced at his spiked mane. “Hi, love.” She reached out to hug her mare, but Vinyl escaped the hug enthusiastically:

“Tavi, you won’t believe it!” She elbowed the stallion and giggled. “I’ve been paired up with one of the coolest DJs around!” The white mare wrapped her hoof around the stallion, making Octavia wince and glare. Triggered! the little pony in her head cooed merrily. Octavia took up the mental stick. “Neon Lights! He’s a prodigy, been DJing since forever!” Vinyl chirped on and on, making Octavia feel tenser and tenser. “Of course, we were given a say, and he chose me and I chose him and it’s a match made in Heaven!”

Octavia felt her eye twitching. “Very. Nice. Dear. Very. Nice.” She almost spat through her teeth. “And I’ve been paired with Beauty Brass.”

“Oh…” Vinyl looked said for a moment, then shrugged it off. “Well.” She smiled. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. You’re a smart pony.” She tapped Octavia’s forehead. “I’m going to Neon’s to shift through some samples, will be home late.” With that, she pecked the cellist on the forehead and ran off, followed by the grinning stallion, who hadn’t taken off his shades for a moment - or said a word. Though, Octavia felt that he had mumbled something as he walked away.

Something painfully close to, “Cakewalk.”

***

Urgh!

I can’t sleep! It’s ten already and Vinyl’s not home yet. Should I be worried? Because I am worried! That- that brat! What is he doing with my marefriend? And Vinyl is so happy to work with him! It seemed like she didn’t even pay attention to my predicament! Now I have both Beauty and Neon to worry about!

Unbelievable! Just unbelievable!

What an ill-rotten week. And it’s just begun…

a very irritated Octavia, October 19th

September 9th

Dear Diary,

Today - or, rather, this morning - I have learned what hangovers are like.

They are not pretty.

Not pretty at all. I thought I'd die vomiting, but, thankfully, I did not vomit. Instead, I had to suffer a terrible headache. I, for one, was very angry at myself for getting drunk - and right before a day full of studies, no less! Right after I woke up, I immediately knew I positively hated myself for this - and I still had to go to university. But, more so, I knew, right after I woke up, that I hated Vinyl.

***

I hate Vinyl.

Octavia groaned, her head heavy and aching, her temples pulsating with blood. It felt like she was more... round, rolling over and over into nothingness, yesterday's light-headed joy replaced with suffering.

I'm gonna kill her dead.

Once more, Octavia rolled over, trying to get rid from the ultrasound assault on her mind. It felt as if yesterday's alcohol were punching the very core of her head from the inside.

I will murder her and hide her body in a- Uh!

With terrible effort, Octavia managed to get up. Or, rather, roll off the bed, ending on the floor with a graceless thump. Following an unsuccessful attempt to get up, Octavia decided that leading her life on the floor of her bedroom was not the worst option.

"Miss?" Jeffrey's voice echoed in a shout, rolling about the room, resonating off the walls, killing Octavia's ears and head with sheer volume.

"Jeffrey..." the young mare hissed, covering her ears with her hooves in an attempt to drown out the sound. "Please... voice... down. Speak easy." She opened her eyes to glare at the butler, but saw that he was carrying a tray with a glass of - Thank Celestia! - orange juice, which the cellist grabbed at once, downing the whole glass in one huge gulp. Celestia, I did not even realise how thirsty I was...

Suddenly, the world seemed a little brighter. Having quenched her thirst, Octavia felt that it was time to go back to sleep, and said just so, dragging her heavy legs to the bed. Her way was swiftly blocked by the steadfast butler, who, gently but sternly, pushed the young mare away from the blissful abode of sleepy dreams. “Miss, I am afraid it is time for your studies.”

Octavia blinked heavily, feeling that, if she were to blink again, she’d open her eyes in about eight hours. What. “Uh. Jeffrey. No studies. Sleep,” she managed, trying to pass the equine obstacle. However, the attempt proved to be in vain, as the butler managed to guide the sleepy cellist skilfully towards the door. Without noticing anything, Octavia exited the room, yawning.

Imagine her surprise when she saw in front of her the familiar stairwell, instead of the much desired bed. Jeffrey, you cheating- uh! The young mare rubbed her temples in exasperation. Automatically, the pony followed the steps down, only to be greeted by the everpresent butler (how did he just appear there when he was just behind me?) and a note on the table. Octavia was too hungover to read, but Jeffrey must have read her mind, for he cleared his throat and read aloud, maintaining a tone which was a touch too formal for a mother-to-daughter note:

“Dear Octavia,

I am going to the latest premiere of that fashion show I told you about. Will be home by dinner. Breakfast is on the table. Don’t forget to pack your bag. Jeffrey will see you to the university.

Love, Mom”

Octavia grunted and glanced at the omelette. Nausea struck swiftly, and Octavia shut her eyes. “No. No breakfast today,” she said aloud.

“In that case, Miss,” said Jeffrey, who had, as usual, materialised out of nowhere, and was now standing right in front of her, “I am ready to escort you to the university building.”

“Ugh. Jeffrey, no studies today.” The young mare tapped her head. “Hangover. Brain hurts. Time to go to sleep.” She turned round, intent on travelling to the realm of Sleepy Dreams.

“Miss,” Jeffrey urged pointedly, taking the young mare by the shoulders. “I am afraid I have to take you to university. Your mother’s orders.” Really? Octavia groaned. Of all the times to be proper and correct...

“Okay, Jeffrey, here’s the deal,” Octavia whispered conspiratorially. “You let me stay at home today and I give you…” The pony made an estimation. “A hundred bits.” That should buy him… Boldly, the young mare approached the unperturbable valet, lashing out with her eyelashes sulkily. “Come on, Jeffrey. You wouldn’t want to have a hundred bits and a free pass to ditch your duties? Really?”

Jeffrey smiled.

***

“Stupid Jeffrey.”

Octavia kicked the pebble aside, wobbling slightly as she made her way to the university building, accompanied by the unperturbed valet. "Stupid Vinyl. Making me drink drinks till I got drunk. Ugh." She shook her head, trying to make her thoughts steadier for the upcoming seminar on Music History that awaited her. "Who does she think she is? Silly, ugh, silly in the head and- ugh.”

“Taaaaavi!” she heard a familiar voice from the side, happy and cheery in nature. Slowly, Octavia looked right, only to see what she had expected to see: a cheerful white unicorn trotting up to her along a side path, her braces reflecting the (harsh) morning sun. “Tavi, hold on!”

Obeying Vinyl’s call, Octavia stopped, grinding her teeth. Come on… Come closer so I can murder you. Suddenly, Vinyl stopped at a fair pace, eyeing the cellist cautiously. “Um. What’s wrong, Tavi?”

Everything will be good and right when I murder you and hide your body in a- uh! “What gives you the impression, Vinyl?” the young mare wondered in a tone as sweet as she could muster.

“Well,” Vinyl pointed out, “you have a very I-wanna-kill-you look on your face.” She took a hesitant step back. “You look pretty angry, Tavi… You look as if-”

With a mighty roar, Octavia flung herself like a lioness at the poor mare, knocking her off her hooves. Grey hooves made their way to the white throat. “I! Will! End! You!” Octavia screamed, lying on top of the unicorn, her teeth dancing the dance of death.

“Tavi!” Vinyl coughed. “Can’t! Breathe!” She freed herself with relative ease, making Octavia faceplant into the fresh morning grass. Might as well have breakfast, Octavia thought. “What has gotten into you?”

“A lot of alcohol,” Octavia replied in a violent hiss. “Yesterday. All because of you.” She attempted to get up, only to faceplant again. Softly and slowly, Vinyl approached her and extended a hoof. Never! Octavia tried to get up again. And fell. Again. Okay, maybe this one last time. Coming to terms with herself, she grabbed the helping hoof. “Now,” she said, a little calmer than before, “my head hurts like a million nightmare puppies, and, and-”

“That,” Vinyl interrupted her with a knowing smile, “is just a hangover. Your first one. After several nights of drinking, you’ll get used to these. Hell,” she tapped her chest proudly, “I no longer get hangovers!”

“Never,” Octavia hissed in return. “I will never.” She tapped her hoof against the ground. “Ever.” She pointed the hoof at Vinyl. “Drink alcohol.” The hoof came down. “Ever again.”

“Never say never,” Vinyl remarked. Then she smiled light-heartedly, feeling that the hard part of the conversation was over. “So, do you have a lecture or a seminar?” she asked, picking up a trot.

Octavia trotted next to her. “I’m still mad at you, you know,” she remarked with some acidness. “You made me drunk on drinks, and… stuff.” The two mares made their way into the university building.

“But didn’t we have fun?” Vinyl asked, stopping suddenly. “Ask yourself, Tavi. If it weren’t for the headache you’re having now - didn’t we have fun yesterday?”

Octavia stopped as well, pausing in her acidness. “We… We actually did,” she admitted. “But the headache, on the other hoof-”

“So we’ll just hang out without booze,” Vinyl supplied quickly and smiled. “Come on, Tavi!” She nudged the grey pony playfully. “You wouldn’t want to break off a beautiful friendship just because of some headache?” Immediately, Vinyl pouted, sending, for some reason, a bolt of electricity through the back of Octavia’s neck.

“Um.” Octavia collected herself and tried to give her friend a stern gaze, but, seeing the pouty lips and those big red eyes, merely sighed and shook her head. “All right, Vinyl. Let’s say I’ve given you another chance.” She tossed her hair primly and allowed herself to gift with a smile this strange mare whom she for the love of Celestia couldn’t understand sometimes.

“Great!” Vinyl grinned, showing her braces. “Let’s hang out after classes!” she suggested, smiling brilliantly. For some reason, Octavia both loved that smile at once - and feared it. At once. “No alcohol,” the unicorn quickly added. “Let’s go grab a coffee or something.”

“Coffee.” Octavia nodded. “Yes.” She smiled. “Coffee sounds good. I like coffee. And cake,” she added. “I’ll hang out with you, Vinyl. If you pay for the cake.” The cellist smiled friend-restoringly.

“Sure…” Vinyl’s face fell for a moment. Then, she scrunched her face, as if trying to estimate something. Then, in a moment, she brightened up. “Sure! I have enough alimony this month!”

“Don’t you mean ‘allowance’?” Octavia asked, taking a step aside as a particularly large group of students passed by.

“Uh…” Vinyl paused for a moment, then smiled again. “Yeah, of course. I meant allowance. All right, see ya after class, Tavi!” With that, the cheerful unicorn ran off.

Octavia shook her head and took a deep breath. The headache wasn’t getting worse, but it wasn’t getting better either. She looked around the hall, trying to remember where the classroom was. Vinyl is weird, she thought, looking in the direction that the unicorn had disappeared in. And… She looked around, remembering something. Wait.

When did Jeffrey vanish?

***

“That was one boring lecture.”

Octavia sighed as she left the lecture hall and suppressed a yawn. Two seminars ahead. Oh Celestia, why do you punish me with hangovers. The mare stretched and, finally, yawned.

“Yeah,” she heard suddenly, a voice coming from behind her. “I knew all that stuff already.”

Octavia turned round, only to see a cheerful mint unicorn mare with a brown saddlebag, accompanied by a shy-looking, fatty cream-coloured earth pony. The cellist blinked. “Did you?” she asked dumbly, still riding the hangover’s tidal waves.

“I did,” the unicorn confirmed with a nod. She extended her hoof. “My name’s Lyra, Lyra Heartstrings, and I know everything. This,” she pointed at the earth pony, “is my marefriend Bon-Bon. I make homework for her and she licks me where I like it.”

“Lyra!” Bon-Bon the cream-coloured mare shouted and turned a fine shade of pink, just as Octavia blinked obliviously. Why would she lick her marefriend?.. “She’s kidding,” Bon-Bon explained calmly. “She doesn’t do my homework, and she doesn’t know everything.”

“Do too,” Lyra protested. She followed Octavia down the narrow corridor, avoiding possible collisions with other students with ease. “It’s my special talent, after all. She tapped her flank.”

Once more, Octavia blinked like an idiot. Confound those hangovers. They drive me to ugh. “Your cutie mark is a lyre,” the young cellist said politely.

“Exactly.” Lyra nodded resolutely. “Do you remember who played the lyre?”

Octavia paused, thinking of various composers, but could not remember a single one. “Orpheus?” she suggested cautiously.

“Exactly,” Lyra repeated while Bon-Bon sighed and rolled her eyes. “And where did Orpheus go to rescue his beloved?”

“To Tartarus,” Octavia replied, stopping in front of the door that led to the classroom she needed.

“And who did he meet there?” Lyra pressed on, while Bon-Bon seemed to behave in a “I don’t know her” fashion.

“Discord?” Octavia suggested, stepping from hoof to hoof due to the weird discussion. Not something to discuss when you are hungover.

“Exactly!” Lyra exclaimed and tapped her front hooves against the tiles of the floor. “And Discord told him all the secrets of the world! Ergo, the lyre is the symbol of ultimate knowledge. Ergo, I know everything!” She bowed proudly. “If you ever have any questions, just ask me, Um?”

“Octavia,” the cellist supplied with an awkward smile. “As a matter of fact, I do have a question. Don’t you have a seminar to attend? You’re with our faculty, right?”

“Yes, classical,” Lyra replied. “I play the lyre, as you may have already guessed. And my fair mare here likes tooting my flute.” She winked at the blushing cream mare.

“I play the piano,” Bon-Bon corrected softly. “And make sweets. Hence my cutie mark.”

“Good,” Octavia said, not knowing what else to say. Is this how you make friends? Because this is sooo bizarre.

Ponies passed the strange triumvirate, rushing along the corridors, making Octavia think on the planning of the university. The EDM faculty, as Vinyl would call it, was located on the third floor. Did she have enough time to check on her friend? And why was she suddenly so eager to see Vinyl? It’s only been one lecture and I already miss her… What the hay is wrong with me?

“Oh, Octavia is thinking about a mare she likes!” Lyra chimed up, brightening and bouncing from hoof to hoof.

Octavia did a spit-take on thin air. “Wait, what do you- I’m not even- I mean, I-” I don’t “like” Vinyl!

“All right, first years! Time for your seminar!” the professor’s voice boomed as he, a stallion of fine posture and big beard, trotted past the mares into the classroom.

Lyra paused as she passed the grey mare. Pointing at Octavia’s chest, she whispered:

“I. Know. Everything.”

***

“I’ve met a very strange pony today,” Octavia said, sipping on her coffee. The coffee wasn’t particularly good, but the atmosphere of the nice coffee shop was somewhat pleasant. She had been sure they would go to the cafe where they had met, but, instead, Vinyl took her to the mall, where, to Octavia’s immense surprise, was a ridiculously cosy coffee shop - where they were sitting now. “Her name is Lyra, and she’s at my faculty.”

“Yes, I know Lyra,” Vinyl confirmed, drinking hot chocolate, slurping loudly, much to her new friend’s dismay. “Met her today too. She knows everything - can you believe that?” Vinyl took a piece of the cake. “I asked her how ostriches breathe when their heads are in the sand.”

Octavia smiled indulgently, picking up a piece of her own. “And what did she say?”

“‘With oxygen’!” Vinyl exclaimed, sinking her teeth into the delicious creamy goodness. “She’s a genius, I’m telling you.”

Octavia sighed and facehooved. “Vinyl, the extent of your stupidity is not something I’ll easily get used to.” With that dignified remark, Octavia returned to her cake.

“I don’t know what any of that means, but thanks!” the beginner DJ replied with a grin. “It’s a compliment, right?”

“Yes, Vinyl.” Octavia chuckled. “Yes, it’s a compliment.” She watched her friend devour the cake intensely. “Say,” she remarked suspiciously, “isn’t the cake meddling with your braces?”

“No braces!” Vinyl exclaimed cheerfully, smiling a brilliant smile at the grey mare. “See? Doc says I don’t need them anymore. Says my teeth are all right!” Suddenly, she frowned in worry. “Do you think my teeth are all right?”

Octavia felt something hit her in the stomach. She assumed it was the cake skipping her entire digestive system. For some reason, she caught her breath and whispered, “Your teeth are gorgeous, Vinyl.”

“That’s…” Vinyl said slowly. “That’s like, good, right?”

“Right.” Octavia smiled, regaining her composure. “That’s, like, good.” She laughed at her own mimicry.

Content, Vinyl grabbed another piece and began eating. Octavia looked around. Yes, the atmosphere was nice, but, for some reason, she wouldn’t mind going to the coffee shop where the two of them had met. It had been just days ago, and yet it seemed it had been so long ago. She kind of wanted to relive that moment. For some reason. She returned her attention to her companion.

“Vinyl, you have some cream on your cheek,” Octavia said disapprovingly, reaching for the silly unicorn with a napkin. “There,” she said contentedly, having wiped off the offending cream. Vinyl laughed, touching her cheek.

The waitress that had just been passing the table, smiled and stopped by the two mares. “You know,” she cooed, “we have a couple discount special~” The waitress winked at the two young mares.

Octavia smiled very politely. Such insinuations! “I am sorry. You must have misunderstood.” She pointed her hoof at herself, then at Vinyl. “We are not a-”

“It’s fifteen percent,” the waitress confirmed, matter-of-factly, ready to proceed with the order.

On the other side of the table, Vinyl’s eyes widened. Immediately, she grabbed a very surprised Octavia by the neck. “Oh, we’re such a couple.” She kissed the shocked earth pony on the cheek loudly. “You wouldn’t believe how much we do… couple stuff. As a couple.”

Through her teeth, Octavia whispered almost soundlessly, “Vinyl what are you doing.” She was still grinning widely for the waitress through the embarrassment. “Vinyl, stahp.” She felt the grip tighten.

“Play along, for Celestia’s sake!” Vinyl whispered back. “Do you want a discount or not?”

“Oh!” Octavia picked up, grinning so artificially that it would take a Los Pegasus director to film such a fake smile. Think think think… “Yes! Uh, we, um, as a matter of fact, we cuddle so much that our bed just broke last night! Because we sleep together. Because we are a couple.”

“Oh yes!” Vinyl confirmed, nodding eagerly. “You know, she really likes when I top!”

“O-kaay…” The waitress looked at the two young mares with a changed look. “I’ll, uh, I’ll be right back.” Swiftly, she disappeared. Octavia dropped the grin. Vinyl let go of her neck. The two mares looked at each other weirdly.

“Since when do you top?” Octavia asked, disapprovingly. What is she thinking, doing-

Vinyl looked up primly. “Since I am the dominant persona- person- personal- person. Pony,” she clarified with a touch of embarrassment.

Octavia paused, then turned away as a blush crept across her cheeks. “Um. What exactly does ‘to top’ mean, by the way?” I think I have a general notion, but…

“I, um.” Vinyl blushed likewise, looking in the opposite direction. “Far as I understand it… I mean. It’s kinda when I lay on top of you when we have-”

“Lie,” Octavia corrected automatically, taking up her cup.

“That’s not a lie,” Vinyl protested. “When you have se-”

“‘Lie’, not ‘lay’,” Octavia amended with a giggle. She smiled and patted her friend’s head. “Silly Vinyl.”

“So…” Vinyl looked at the young cellist. “We still a couple?” she asked with a smile.

“No.” Octavia frowned. “Definitely not.” With that, she returned to the warm liquid.

“But whyyyy?” Vinyl pouted. “Did I suddenly fall from grace?” She fluttered her eyelashes and smiled her braces at Octavia. It did not seem very effective...

“Because,” Octavia said in a tone that did not allow discussion, “I am too young to have a serious relationship.” She paused. “And I think I’m into stallions.”

“You think?” Vinyl winked and inched a little closer.

“I’m not really sure.” Octavia frowned and inched away from the mare. “I’ve never had a coltfriend,” she explained. “Or a marefriend.” She finished the coffee. “I’ve spent most of my free time studying and playing the cello.”

“You mean…” Vinyl gasped, looking around, as if trying to see whether they had been noticed. “You mean you’re still a virgin?!”

“What’s wrong with being a virgin?” Octavia retorted a touch defensively.

“Nothing. Wanna hear a secret?” Vinyl looked around and lowered her voice. “I’m a virgin too.”

“Okaaay…” Octavia blinked. Is it Confessions Day already?

“I know!” Vinyl cheered up, wrapping her hoof around the pony’s shoulders. “Let’s be virgin buddies! You know, go on a quest to lose virginity together!”

“Vinyl!” Octavia gasped, getting rid of the white hoof. “Definitely not!”

“You know, Tavs,” Vinyl said after a small pause, showing those beautiful, braceless teeth. “Virgin buddies or not, I’m glad we’re friends. I love hanging out with you.”

Octavia coughed and looked away, her cheeks reddening a little. Why the hay am I embarrassed? Are all friendships supposed to be this awkward? “Thank you, Vinyl.” She smiled and hugged the white mare awkwardly. “I love hanging out with you too.”

***

Ugh.

Vinyl is weird. Lyra is weird. Bon-Bon seems nice. But she is probably weird too. Am I weird? I have no idea. I hope I’m not half as weird as those ponies. But, at the same time, I have a feeling we’ll be sticking together, the four of us. Maybe become close friends. Sometimes, you just have this feeling.

Anyway, a thought on homework: it’s HUGE! But, unlike school, I don’t need to do it for every lesson. Which is good, and leaves me with some free time. Unlike school. Mom suggested that I bring some friends over for tea. Helps bonding, she said. I don’t think I can consider Lyra and Bon-Bon my friends yet, but I sure will ask Vinyl if she wants to come to my house tomorrow.

I wish I could contact her now. I could write her a letter, but with our postal system, it would take several days for it to arrive. Wouldn’t it be nice if there was a device that allowed you to communicate with friends at any time? ...Daydreaming.

Anyway. Why am I even thinking of Vinyl and Lyra and Bon-Bon? I have homework to do, and I need to get my priorities straight. Because I am a straight mare. With straight priorities. ...I’ll go do my homework now. Forget this, diary.

- A tired (and slightly confused) Octavia, September 9th