In a Cello Mood

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