In a Cello Mood

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