In a Cello Mood

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