The Canterlot Theatre was among one of the most famous buildings in Equestria’s capital city in which it was named after. The concert hall was almost as prestigious as the royal castle itself, and its shows, usually put on by a full-blown symphony orchestra and, occasionally, a cast of actors, were something that a first time viewer and listener would never forget.
However, these experiences were simply monthly visits to the performers of Canterlot Philharmonia. For many years they have been playing well-known concerto after well-known concerto, but almost nobody knew that the orchestra secretly wanted to spice things up and introduce different and obscure pieces to the audience. Recently, however, the newly appointed conductor had recognized the faults of the previous, having stepped down due to age and health issues. As a result, this month’s concert would not have two long cello concertos sandwiching a thirty minute intermission as originally intended, but rather a selection of several individual songs. All these pieces still featured the cello to avoid leaving out their solo performer, who everyone believed to be the most beautiful and most talented musician in Canterlot Philharmonia.
Upon being informed of these change of plans, Octavia Melody was absolutely thrilled. The excitement of finally being able to play something legitimately different on her trusted instrument was indescribable. For the next few weeks to the performance date, the cellist had practiced a lot more than usual, taking in the variety of tones and atmospheres that these new pieces set. How was it that these songs were kept in the dark for so long?
When the night of the concert arrived, she wanted to look her absolute best. Following a celebratory feast, Octavia had stepped in front of her bedroom mirror to reveal a light gray earth pony with a dark gray mane and tail which were neatly groomed. Most of her body lacked color, but it served to emphasize the set of cool, confident, bright, and stunning purple eyes staring back at her, sheltered by dark, thick eyelashes. The only problem she had at that moment was wrapped around her neck and topped with a bow. She usually wore this to every concert she performed, but Octavia had felt that it wouldn’t fit her current mood, nor would it fit the show she would play tonight. Nearly ripping the fabric, she had promptly removed her bowtie before rushing into her closet in search for something different.
Moments later, she had returned to the mirror, slightly backing up and turning to the side in order to get a full view. Octavia was now adorned with color, the wool of a green sweater covering her upper body and a red beret fitting smugly on her head, resting between her ears. Her clothing helped further accentuate her eyes along with the purple treble clef on the side of her flank, the only hue on her nearly monochrome body. Happy with how she looked, she smiled in satisfaction, half-lidding her eyes, creating a look that would have made many heads turn. She was perfect.
Placing the instrument case containing her cello in her simple, wooden farm wagon, she had walked a fairly long distance from her house to the Canterlot Theatre, making sure to park far away from the horde of fancy carriages and arriving audience members. Upon arriving through the back entrance, she had been greeted with compliments from her fellow musicians, praising her new look, which only widened the smile on her face. Several minutes later, she found herself standing on the main stage of the auditorium, having positioned herself and her cello to a more upright stance. Octavia clutched the neck of her instrument in one hoof while drawing her bow through its strings in the other, playing her heart out with the orchestra sitting behind her.
Octavia had noticed that even her audience was slightly different. The usual crowd, having lived in Canterlot for years, wore fancy clothes and makeup that gave away their obvious desire to resemble classy and superior folk, only to have an appearance of extreme snobbiness. However, Octavia was more focused on the newer audience members, looking slightly less formal, scattered like polkadots among the seats of the theatre. The advertisements on the newspapers reading something other than the word “concerto” must have caught their attention. More than happy to share these obscure and beautiful pieces of music with them, Octavia smiled more than she usually did when playing other shows.
As the pieces went on, ranging from long to short, comedic to serious, enthusiastic to solemn, Octavia started to feel a slight pressure around her crotch and stomach, along with a tinge of embarrassment. She was so eager to rush to the concert that she had forgotten to use her bathroom back at home, and the consequences were beginning to take its toll. Her bladder would only ache more and more, which Octavia would deem more than manageable - had there not been a mass gradually inching towards the end of her rectum, causing her to clench her cheeks. By the time that the audience was in the middle of applauding her near-perfect performance of the second to last piece, Octavia was already crossing her legs and squeezing her buttocks, which made it difficult to focus on her playing.
The final song, Le cygne, was the most famous out of the conductor’s unique selections, which was surprisingly not saying something - perhaps this was because it was written by a late composer whose name wasn’t subject to a horse pun. Thankfully, the final song was serene, slow, and easy for Octavia to play - but at the same time it was difficult, as Octavia had to steady the bow in her trembling hoof in order to make the drawn out notes in the piece to lack any shakiness in their sound. Other than that, Octavia was able to put any remaining effort into holding in her waste. She closed her eyes, concentrating more on handling her urgency, and yet she never missed a single note.
A few beautiful minutes passed for the audience and a few uncomfortable minutes passed for Octavia, and the piece soon came to a close. She breathed a sigh which was drowned out by the applause, more than ready to make a long-awaited trip to the bathroom. Curtly bowing towards the audience, Octavia placed the handle of her bow in her mouth and, with her cello mounted on her back, started walking offstage. As she passed the curtain to the backstage of the auditorium, however, she couldn’t help feeling that a prior restroom trip wasn’t the only thing that she had forgotten. Octavia turned her head to see that the conductor had not stepped off the podium, which only indicated one thing - an encore. Memories of Octavia’s favorite piece out of all the ones she had been practicing for nearly the last month flashed through her head. She was so caught up in holding it in that she didn’t notice that there was actually another song that was yet to be played.
Octavia was grateful, at least, that she would only be delayed by merely a few more minutes, until she felt her solid mass poke her rear rather painfully. Nearly letting her bow drop from her mouth, she let out a mix of a sharp grunt and a strained gasp, clutching her stomach, as she felt like those minutes suddenly increased tenfold. Octavia quickly came to the terrifying realization that at this point, she could very well to lose control in front of everyone. Trying not to let the fear get the best of her, she took several deep breaths before forcing herself to walk back onstage with shaking hooves.
And so the encore began. It quickly became clear to the audience why the conductor had saved the piece for last, and why there seemed to be several random percussion instruments at the back of the orchestra. The song was much faster paced than the one before, and was vastly different from all the other songs in general. It sounded like something an energetic jazz band would play… or did it sound more like a lively tango? No one knew at this point - there was some sort of feisty aura to it that all of the orchestra enjoyed - all except the solo performer, who was much too tense and frightened unbeknownst to the audience.
It was much harder for Octavia this time to maintain the quality of her performance all while fighting her insides that constantly demanded for release. Crossing her legs and squeezing them along with her buttocks as hard as possible barely helped, and the mixed emotions displayed by the faces of the audience - some clearly enjoying the high spiritedness of the song while others felt it to be absolutely foreign - made it worse. Octavia started panicking internally as she felt some gas build up around the mass already threatening to burst through her anus. There was no telling whether the noise would be drowned out by the song or not, and Octavia was dead convinced that she would become an instant laughingstock, the audience and orchestra turning on her within moments. Her musical career was on the ropes.
In an effort to prevent herself from any accidental release whatsoever, Octavia began moving her shapely hips from side to side, randomly at first, but soon, she started swaying to the rhythm of the music. She soon noticed a slight change in the audience and saw that some members were actually blushing to this sight, unaware that her “dancing” was out of pure desperation, while others had their faces twisted in confusion, giving her skeptical looks. Eventually, the urge to fart subsided, but Octavia kept her hips moving for good measure. She made sure to match the tempo of the song even when the rhythm began speeding up for a bit, before slowing down to a grand finale of drawn out notes held by every instrument in the orchestra.
Octavia saw the entire audience move up from their seats, some stomping their hooves, others on their hind legs clapping with their front, all in a standing ovation. The concert ended on a triumphant note, but she realized, to her bitter disappointment, that she was merely happy that it was over. Hearing the sound of sliding chairs and hoofsteps behind her, Octavia hurriedly carried her instrument offstage once again.
Upon entering the backstage, Octavia encountered the last pony she’d want her audience to discover she was affiliated with. Instantly, she remembered that she had allowed a white unicorn with wild blue hair and matching shades to hide in her wagon as a stowaway on the way to the concert. As the disc jockey running monthly underground concerts consisting of electronic music, Vinyl Scratch was the very opposite of a high-class pony that the citizens of Canterlot - Octavia’s audience included - would look up to and want to be friends with. She was leaning on the wall, sporting a very intrigued look on her face.
“Wow, gotta say I’m impressed, Tav,” Vinyl smirked, “That’s the first time I haven’t fallen asleep during one of these things. Seriously, where’d you get those moves?”
Octavia blushed fiercely as she felt another poke at her rear. “Pack for me,” she frantically whispered, her bow dropping from her mouth onto the ground, “and put them in the wagon, quick.” Her hind legs started trotting in place causing her instrument to slowly slide off her back.
“Um… alright.” the unicorn obeyed, a small flash of light erupting from and enveloping her horn as both the cello and bow became surrounded by magic aura. Vinyl could tell that her friend was acting very different from her usual behavior. “You okay there?” she asked.
“Bathroom…” Octavia answered, her voice clearly straining, “Don’t tell anyone.” Her face turned even more red as she quickly glanced at the entrance to the main stage, the only source of light in the backstage, before immediately rushing towards the exit door. As the instrument floated in the air, Vinyl took note of Octavia’s bouncing tail occasionally revealing her clenched buttcheeks. Another flash of light from her horn, and both Vinyl and her friend’s instrument spontaneously disappeared, but not before a small chuckle escaped her as she realized what was going on.
Just outside, the desperate cellist galloped through the halls, fully aware that they would soon be crowded by the departing audience. She nearly stopped upon passing a pair of doors she knew were entrances to one of the restrooms in the building. Octavia, however, was determined to get to the bathroom that was farthest from the auditorium. Almost on cue upon having that thought, the pressure against her sphincter grew even more, forcing her to stop in her tracks.
“Oh no,” Octavia moaned weakly, “no no no no no…”
While she spent several seconds fighting to regain control, her ears perked up at the distant sound of two mares talking to each other. They were getting closer uncomfortably quick, and Octavia started panicking even more as she felt the solid mass nearly sticking through out her rectum. Her tail slowly lifted up, revealing her trembling anus to whoever these audience members were. Once they turned the corner they’d witness Octavia Melody on the verge of spilling her bowels all over the floor-
She couldn’t let that happen. Octavia clenched her muscles as hard as she could, lowering her tail and forcing herself to continue running faster than she did before. She managed to scramble around another corner mere seconds before the two audience members saw her.
“They’re probably just in a hurry,” Octavia reassured herself, the decreasing volume in the voices giving her some kind of relief - however different from the kind she really needed at the current moment.
Octavia had memorized the layout of the Canterlot Theatre so many concerts ago in order to stay ahead of the crowd, but tonight, she depended on that memorization more than ever. After turning a few corners and bolting through halls she knew were only filled with rooms solely for rehearsals and instrument storage, Octavia finally encountered a dead end with another pair of doors on the side.
Immediately, she burst through the door on the right, and was surprised to see that though the restroom looked older than the other ones in the building, it looked just as clean, if not cleaner. Out of the three stalls in the room, Octavia rushed into the innermost one and slammed the door before locking it. Turning towards her savior, she saw that the toilet lacked a tank, instead having a series of pipes running from outside the porcelain bowl into the floor, and a flush handle dangling from the ceiling. Its shape and structure gave it a resemblance of a chamber pot. It looked low tech, but it seemed like it was constructed with the average pony’s tail in mind and how nearly an hour of cleaning and grooming could go to waste in an instant. And, for some strange reason, there was what seemed to be flattened wool attached to the rim.
Without a second thought, Octavia quickly backed against the toilet and slammed her cheeks onto the rim of the pot, letting her tail hang down the its bumpy, textured exterior. She took note of how comfortable the wooly seat felt against her smooth, round butt, however it was nothing compared to what she was about to feel. Octavia let out a heavy sigh of relief as she could finally release control of her bowels and bladder… or so she thought.
Her eardrums were suddenly assaulted with a spontaneous banging noise, followed by the frantic sound of hoofsteps. Instinctively, she clenched her two openings again and crossed her legs, but not before a small amount of urine got past her defenses and squirted out of her, causing her to press one hoof against her lips. It took Octavia everything she had to not grunt out loud, nearly doubling over in pain from having to regain control so quickly.
“As you can see,” a smug sounding voice declared, “we practically have the bathroom all to ourselves.”
“Oh thank goodness.” another voice, younger sounding than the first, exclaimed.
Octavia identified the two voices as the audience members who nearly saw her a few minutes ago, and her eyes widened with horror. Were they following her?
“This place looks practically untouched! Does anyone else know?” the younger mare asked as Octavia heard the two walk closer and closer.
“Only me,” her older friend bragged over the sounds of the other stall doors being opened, closed and locked.
“Are those… chamber pots? …my, this feels so comfortable!”
They must have had the same idea of staying away from the crowd, but it didn’t make Octavia feel any better. Soon enough, the noises of urine spraying against hollow porcelain echoed throughout the bathroom.
“Ahhhh…” the younger mare sighed.
“Mmmm…” the older mare responded in kind. “That was easily one of the best concerts I’ve attended in recent memory. What say you?”
“I loved it. I wish they’d do this more often, playing individual pieces rather than one or two long concertos. A lot more variety.”
“Say, did you happen to witness that cellist Octavia dancing to the encore? How unorthodox!”
“‘Unorthodox’?! Are you still stuck in the nineteenth century?”
“I’m aware of the times, dear, but regardless!”
“It’s not like she was trying to seduce some stallion in the audience!”
“Stallionssssss, darling. You know how I disapprove such whorish behavior.”
Nearly every word the older mare spoke felt like a dagger to Octavia as she immediately remembered how high the stakes were. The two audience members continued peeing, unknowingly making Octavia’s situation even worse as her bladder longed to join them. In increasing desperation, she squirmed on her chamber pot, still crossing her legs. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head - she could at least pee and remain undetected, making her load just a bit more manageable.
Closing her eyes, Octavia moved her hoof out of the way and let go of her bladder, and her pee resumed its exit into the hollow pot. She didn’t release her grip entirely, though, as she wanted her urination to be as quiet as possible. As she bit her tongue to stifle any possible sighs of relief or grunts of pain, Octavia suddenly felt some more flatulence build up again, adding to the already painful pressure near her anus, immediately forcing her to engage in a biological tug-of-war between her peeing and her fart-
PRRFFT
A momentary loss of control on Octavia’s anus caused a low trumpet like sound to boom underneath her and within the pot. Upon feeling the gas burst from her rectum, she gripped her bladder once again, halting her stream. In a last ditch effort to remain quiet, Octavia put her other hoof over her mouth in agony and embarrassment, but it was too late.
“What was that?” the older mare exclaimed, clearly aghast, “Was that you?”
“Who wouldn’t it be?” the younger one laughed, “I kinda have to go both numbers.”
“Disgusting! Have some standards, will you?!”
Octavia quickly deduced that the younger mare must have farted at the exact same moment, but that didn’t stop her from feeling an intense amount of shame, tears welling up in her eyes. From several humiliating past experiences, Octavia had learned the hard way that she could be incredibly noisy when she was finally able to relieve herself after an hour or two of intense desperation.
“Heavens,” the older mare cried, “imagine someone like one of the performers having an outburst like that! Imagine the soloist herself needing to defecate!”
“Yes, yes, imagine Octavia taking a dump just like everyone else.”
“Are you implying you are alright with such a sound piercing through the music that we went all the way here for?”
“You know,” the younger mare began, “one day you’re going to realize that nothing’s perfect and thus be able to enjoy life much more.”
“Fair enough,” the older mare replied. “However, I, for one, would not be able to take her concerts seriously anymore, let alone go at all, that’s for certain,” the older mare remarked rather coldly.
Octavia felt like she was being kicked in the stomach with those words, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes like the excrement from her butt, the emotional and physical pain nearly unbearable, but now wasn’t the time to cry. As she slowly pulled herself together, she heard the flush of a toilet, signaling that one of the two mares was finished.
“I will wait for you in the lobby,” explained the older mare. “You know where it is.”
“Sure thing.” the younger mare said as the older mare left the stall, washed her hooves, and left.
As soon as the door closed, the remaining mare became silent. Octavia started shaking in fear - did she know another pony was in the stall right next to her? Several tense seconds passed.
“Hng…”
To Octavia’s dread, a grunt was heard from the other stall, along with a crackling noise. Moments later, the other mare sighed as a small splash rung throughout the room.
“Nnngh… ahhhhh…”
It was too much. As the grunts turned into moans, splash after splash, the noises acted like sirens as they began to draw out whatever Octavia was trying her hardest to contain, along with yet another bit of gas, making the pressure around her rear grow unbearable. She raised one cheek off the toilet to press her other hoof against her sphincter as her face and butt began to sweat. Fully aware she was at her absolute limit, Octavia silently rocked back and forth on the pot, her cheeks occasionally taking turns being lifted and set down on the seat.
After several agonizing minutes, she heard the faint ripping of a roll of toilet paper, and some rustling as the other mare wiped. Following another flush, Octavia jumped at the unnecessarily loud bang of the stall door, hearing the mare rush out of the bathroom so quickly that she forgot to wash her hooves.
Very slowly, Octavia removed her hooves from her crotch and anus as she held her breath, waiting for the distant sound of hoofsteps to disappear. Completely convinced that no one else would walk into this bathroom, Octavia let her butt cheek drop on the seat and exhaled deeply. She finally relaxed her hold on her body as she gripped the edges of the chamber pot, losing herself to a world of relief.
“A-AH!” Octavia cried out almost immediately. She didn’t know what came first - her stream of urine resuming at nearly twice the force, or perhaps one of the loudest farts she ever made in her life that violently burst out her anus, causing the pot to vibrate a bit. The feeling of her emptying bladder caused her to arch her back in pleasure, nearly falling off the pot.
At the same time, her sphincter quickly stretched open, allowing the tip of a light brown log to poke out. Octavia gasped, a blush quickly forming on her sweating face, feeling the mass's thickness as it snaked its way through her rectum, crackling as it pushed through her butt hole by itself. At over half a foot, it dipped into the water, which was quickly turning yellow, and began coiling around the bottom as her intestines continued effortlessly pushing out several more inches of the mass. Soon, the end of her log dropped out of her open anus into the pot with a loud splash, making Octavia bite her tongue to stifle a cry of utter relief.
Still full and noticing that her sphincter was closing up, feeling a slight bit of poop on her anus, Octavia closed her eyes, beginning to concentrate on forcing the rest of her waste out. “Hnnnnng…”
fffffFFFPPPPRRRTTT
Her anus let out a high pitched hissing sound, slowly dropping down several octaves to another incredibly loud fart, before opening up again, welcoming another thick log. “Mmmmpph…” Octavia grunted, shuddering violently with pleasure as another piece of her waste, just as thick as the previous, noisily slid out of her due to her pushing, along with the sound of a few relatively small farts. Three to four inches of her turd were slowly submerged in the water. With one more slight nudge from her intestines, Octavia felt the second piece leave her, the head of the log slipping into the water while its end hit the back of the chamber pot with a light, wet thud.
Taking its place in her rectum, however, was a notably darker, harder piece of excrement. Octavia strained with more force than usual, having trouble with the much wider mass. “Nnngghhh… ahhhh…” Octavia groaned, clutching her stomach and pushing to no avail as only her stream of urine temporarily increased in velocity from the pressure. Her rectum was essentially blocked up - the piece was stuck.
After several painful and pleasurable seconds, she decided to lift up her butt cheeks and spread them apart before setting them back down on the pot. She took a deep breath and pushed again, and this time the third log started to gradually worm through her, slowly poking out her tortured anus. “Ohhhh, yes! Yessss!!” Octavia nearly convulsed on the toilet and lifted her head skywards as she moaned loudly, unable to hold back her ecstatic vocalizations anymore. The stained rim of her sphincter was nearly pushed to its limits by the mass as it slid through, and as she continued straining, she could feel that though it was only half as long as her other logs, it was nearly twice as thick. Octavia repeatedly gasped for air as the turd popped out of her anus, hitting the water with a deep, hollow splash.
Her whole body was trembling. The relief of getting everything out of her system felt so good, almost like an intense massage relieving the tension in her lower body accumulated over the past hour. With over half of her waste evacuated and her bladder starting to gradually wind down, Octavia had a face reminiscent of a powerful orgasm. It was at this point, however, when the smell from her bowel movement reached her nose, bringing Octavia back to reality a little as she coughed and fanned the air with her hoof.
With a little left to go, Octavia gave a slight push to her intestines. She began to smile uncontrollably as she felt a smooth mass, a little bit thinner than her previous turds, rapidly travel through her anus, exiting at a slightly quicker speed than the others. Octavia felt the log extend to just a few inches under a foot before slowing down. Wiggling her butt a bit, Octavia heard a plop as half of her turd broke off right before feeling the rest drop into the water, further marking her anus with excrement along with the end of her release.
And what a release it was - Octavia, still trembling, remained seated on the chamber pot as she relaxed, basking in her relief. She felt so much better, but could not help noticing the aftermath of it all - drops of sweat rolling down her backside and face, a bit of urine clinging onto her lips, and the remnants of her defecation staining her anus inside and out, along with the stench, which she had gotten quite adjusted to. Octavia dragged a hoof across her forehead in an attempt to dry her face, before reaching for a roll of toilet paper attached to a holder on the wall. Tearing off a piece, she leaned forward, allowing her hoof to slip in between the back rim of the seat and her butt. She gasped softly as she twisted the toilet paper in and out her anus, wiping diligently. Examining the tissue to see a dark brown smudge, she dropped the piece into the pot and tore off another piece, repeating the process until she felt clean, before moving on to her crotch.
When Octavia finally finished wiping, she stood up, lifting her sweaty buttocks off the seat, and turned to observe the product that was the cause of all her agony, desperation, and relief. A log was coiled around the bottom of the chamber pot, nearly making a circle, while another leaned against the side. Two more pieces were floating on the yellow surface, while a rather dark and compact turd sat at the bottom. Quickly becoming aware of the disgust of it all while gagging at the worsening smell, Octavia reached for the flush handle from the ceiling and pulled down.
There was a sound of rushing water, but to her horror, Octavia’s sheer amount of excrement failed to go down the hole at the bottom of the pot, instead clogging the toilet. The reality of the situation hit her - she needed to escape the crime scene before anyone else came by, and with all the audience more than likely in the halls now, the possibility of that was more likely than ever. Octavia rushed out of her stall and headed towards the sinks, frantically washing her hooves there before opening the door. She nearly shrieked when she saw someone was already standing behind the door.
“Vinyl!” Octavia demanded through heavy breaths, “What are you-“
“Cello’s in the wagon, don’t worry.” Vinyl Scratch spoke quickly. With that, the unicorn walked past Octavia and into the bathroom.
“No one saw me.” She reassured her friend. “That’s the thing about having magic. When you’re good enough, avoiding the crowd is easy - poof!” Vinyl explained. “But I’m not good enough to get both of us out at the same time, so…”
The cellist felt a shove as she was pushed into the hallway.
“I’m gonna have to ask you to get to the wagon by yourself.” the unicorn requested. “I’ll wait here for a bit before joining you there. And if anyone asks, some trashy disc jockey did it. They can’t see us together. Go! Now!” she whispered fiercely right before the door closed.
Octavia obeyed and immediately started making her way to the Canterlot Theatre’s back exit. As she walked, her mind processed the events that took place just now. She tried to think of the positives, a smile beginning to form as she remembered her immense desperation and the relief that followed…
Imagine the soloist herself needing to defecate!
Her grin faded almost immediately as the words of a certain mare rang through her ears. Octavia’s mind instantly jumped to the encore of tonight’s concert, in which she had nearly let out some gas, causing her to move her hips in response.
You know how I disapprove such whorish behavior.
Octavia felt some tears welling up again, and her walk slowly picked up in speed, turning into a full on gallop. The image of Octavia’s pile of defecation appeared in her head - the contents of her bowels and bladder which could have very well been unceremoniously displayed in front of the entire audience. How was it that she enjoyed the release of it all so much?
I, for one, would not be able to take her concerts seriously anymore, let alone go at all.
Tears spilled from her eyes as she burst through the back entrance of the Canterlot Theatre. She ran as fast as she could, and eventually found her wagon, where her cello case was waiting. Screaming in anger, sadness, humiliation and shame, Octavia grabbed her beret off her head and chucked it in a random direction as hard as she could. Then she pulled off her sweater, nearly ripping it, and threw it in another direction, before climbing in the wagon and bursting into sobs. Octavia cried as she pulled her hooves towards her body, wanting to disappear right there and now.
Just then, a flash of light momentarily disturbed the darkness surrounding Octavia, causing her to look up and see Vinyl standing a few feet from her wagon. Immediately Octavia held her head down, trying to block out her crying.
“I’m so disgusting, Vinyl.” she mumbled.
“What do you mean?” Vinyl asked, walking towards the wagon.
“You… you were asking why I was dancing like some stupid whore… it’s because… because…” Octavia whimpered before lifting her head up, giving Vinyl a good look of her tear streaked face. “Because I nearly s-soiled myself on stage!” She tearfully yelled at her friend, venting her frustration by just a little before burying her face in her hooves again.
Vinyl was shocked. She knew that Octavia was acting on edge tonight, different from her usual dignified behavior, but she never expected this. As she felt a sinking feeling in her chest, Octavia let out a cry of anguish. “I couldn’t even enjoy the music b-b-because I had to go so badly! A-and then,” she moaned, “two ponies followed me into the bathroom and one of them said all these horrible, horrible things about me…" Octavia trembled, closing her eyes as tight as she could as if she was trying her hardest to wake up from a nightmare. "And that could have been everyone else tonight! I-I would’ve been… I would've...” Unable to finish her sentence, she dissolved into sobs.
Several seconds passed as Vinyl, not knowing what to say, slowly lifted her front hooves and placed them on the wagon's edge.
"W-when I finally went," Octavia spoke through tears filled with self loathing, "it was absolutely horrid…" she paused, sniffing, "maybe no one else came and I wasn’t found out b-but… but…”
“No one’s gonna find out." Vinyl blurted the first thing that came to her mind. "Even if they did, well, they'll think I did it.” she regained control of her voice, speaking a little more softly as she climbed into the wagon.
“But I ruined the whole concert!” Octavia cried as she rolled over, turning away away from her friend.
“You didn’t ruin anything."
“N-no! I can’t look at these songs… I-I can’t even look at my own cello the same way now, not without seeing the mess I made back there-”
"Don’t say that." Vinyl spoke firmly. "Don't even think that. Look at me.” She placed a hoof on Octavia’s shoulder. The cellist sat up, turning towards a pair of magenta eyes. Vinyl had removed her shades, revealing eyes that were slightly different, but just as stunning as the ones Octavia had.
“I thought that you were pretty awesome tonight.”
“You’re just saying that…” Octavia whimpered quietly as a few more tears rolled down her face.
“Heh, you know that classical music isn’t really my thing, but I wish it was.” Vinyl smirked, before a softer smile replaced it. “Octavia, you're just amazing at what you do.”
Octavia blushed as she felt Vinyl’s arms wrap around her. For another few seconds, she leaned her head on Vinyl’s chest, taking comfort in her warmth. Suddenly feeling a bitter tinge of shame and embarrassment as she realized something else she was good at, she broke the silence.
“Vinyl… I kind of clo-”
“Don’t focus on the negatives.” Vinyl interrupted. “When I told you I didn’t fall asleep, I actually wasn’t kidding. You introduced some great music to everyone, myself included - even if it wasn’t my tastes.”
Vinyl pulled out of the embrace and looked deep into the cellist’s eyes. “No matter what happens, Octavia,” she spoke, “I'll always see you as the most wonderful, most talented, and most beautiful pony I know, and nothing can take that away.”
“Vinyl…” Octavia whispered. She suddenly lunged forward, turning her head a bit sideways as she placed her own lips on that of her friend. Vinyl felt a jolt of surprise surge through her body, her eyes widening, before slowly closing as Vinyl gave in to the kiss, running a hoof through Octavia’s hair. The two musicians remained in that position for several long moments.
Finally, when they gradually drew away from each other, Vinyl opened her eyes to look around the wagon, and quickly detected Octavia’s discarded clothing. Levitating them with her magic, the unicorn brought the sweater and beret on the wagon, and Octavia, smiling at last, eagerly put them back on. The two held each other in a second embrace lasting for over a minute.
Vinyl soon broke the silence. “And now, it’s your turn to hear my music!” she yelled, jumping off the wagon, locating its girth and securing it around her body. “Same place every month - Club Luna!”
“Make way for three hours of pure distorted sound.” Octavia exclaimed sarcastically, but there was no denying the huge grin on her face.
And with that, Vinyl and Octavia started making their way into the night, with the cellist lying down in the wagon to avoid anyone seeing her. After a few silent minutes, Vinyl spoke.
“Y’know, it’s kinda too bad I forgot to bring my audio recorder with me tonight.”
“Wait, what? Why?”
“I kinda heard you, and, well, those noises would've made good samples - all I’d have to do is distort them so-”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Vinyl!”
Author's Note
Well that was a thing.
