In a Cello Mood

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