In a Cello Mood

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