Inside Lyra Heartstrings

Eyes still remained fixed on Lyra and the feline even when leaving the subway. Lyra felt no peer pressure, no embarrassment. She felt what she wanted to feel, that everypony around her were fools who could be staring at things a lot more interesting than a cat and a pony. Her mind was filled with these and many more thoughts that would boggle the mind of anypony, but she was not anypony, she was Lyra.

She stood outside of a rundown apartment with the cat on her back, taking in a moment for thought. Lyra peeked through the bleak glass on the front door of the old building. The door on the other side was locked, nothing between them, but a few buttons and a speaker on a the wall to talk with ponies in the apartment rooms. She stepped in and silently spoke through the speaker.

“Jeannie, Jimmy, you there?” she said inquisitively.

There was no answer. Lyra looked frustrated, Lyra pressed another below the name Donny and spoke into the speaker.

“Hey Donny?”

After a few moments a voice answered.

“Yeah, who is it?” said a deep voice, sounded like his mouth was full of food.

“Hey big guy, it’s Lyra. Can I use your fire escape?”

“I’m not even gonna ask why, sure kid come on in,” Donny responded in a cheerful manner.

A shoddy, old door opened to an overweight pony wearing a grey vest. He was chewing on a slice of mouldy pizza. He waved Lyra in. She nodded and smiled. The cat looked up at Donny with fear, like he was a towering giant devouring his prey. Donny looked back at the cat with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

Lyra hopped through the window and steadily hurried up the ladder with the cat held in her hoof. Slipping a few times on the frosty steps, Lyra made it to the window of an apartment. She opened it and immediately tossed the cat into the kitchen inside.

“Don’t go anywhere you dumb furball, I’ll be back in a while,” said Lyra to the little creature as it observed its new surroundings.

She quickly shut the frosty windows and hurried back down the steps of the rusty fire escape and on jumps onto the alleyway below. Checking if her Lyre is tied to her back firmly, she trots down the alleyway and back into the busy streets.

After spending ten minutes trekking from street to street, corner to corner, Lyra calls into a small office at the end of a street. There’s an open door at the end of the hall with an old pony sitting inside. Lyra walks in tapping the door with hoof.

“How we doin’?” Lyra says in a positive tone.

“We’re doin’ great,” the pony replies with an elderly voice.

Lyra sits down opposite the old pony.

“How ‘bout the record, is it doing well?”

The pony pauses for a moment.

“Ugh, not so hot I gotta be honest with ya pal,” he responds hesitantly.

The old pony then shouts to his secretary in the other room and they argue for a few moments. Lyra sits slumped in the chair looking uncomfortable.

“Don’t you owe me something? You have to owe me something, my records gotta have sold once,” Lyra asks in a stronger tone.

“I wish,” the old pony says sarcastically as his secretary hands him a document.

“Ponies need to to buy the whole folk thing first. To get to know you as a solo act since Bon Bons gone,” the old pony continues to say.

“Nopony ever knew us even when we were a duo. It’s not like me and Bon Bon were ever a big act. We don’t really have to re-educate people about this crap.”

The old pony ignores Lyra while staring at a document.

“Melvyn?” Lyra speaks his name to get his attention.

“Mel!” Lyra shouts angrily.

Melvyn looks up to Lyra with a distraught expression. He crosses his hooves.

“You know, how you doing kid?”

Lyra breathes out with disbelief and responds.

“So you’re saying nopony has bought my record? C’mon man, you’re Jewish, you know about getting cash. You gotta have got me something?”

“Sorry kid, I got nothin’. No one really gets folk at the moment. It’s too old-fashioned for the kids and too new for the old geezers,” Mel says tossing his documents aside. He then notices Lyra without a jacket.

“Wait, you don’t have a jacket? It’s freezin’ out there!”

“If you were able to piece things together you old shit you’d realise that I have no cash to buy a jacket,” Lyra responds in a disgruntled manner.

Melvyn steps out of the chair and steps over to Lyra where he puts a coat on her shoulders.

“No, I don’t need your coat Mel. I need money,” says Lyra as she shrugs off the coat.

“C’mon you stupid filly, you’ll die out there!” says Melvyn as he struggles to put the jacket back on Lyra.

“I said no! Just buck off Mel! Sweet Celestia, you just don’t get it,” Lyra responds aggressively as she pushes Melvyn back.

Mel pauses and glances back at Lyra.

“Here, have 50 bits kid.”

Melvyn hands Lyra a small bag of cash. She nods and grabs it.

“Thanks Mel,” she says.

Mel nods. Lyra slowly gets out of the dusty old chair and walks out of the building. She looks somewhat satisfied after coaxing some cash out of an old pony. Lyra steps back out on the street, though always feeling mocked by the greater success of those around her.

She trots back to the apartment where she left the cat.

She speaks into the microphone once again.

“Jeannie?”

“What?” a shrill, yet young voice responds.

“Can I come up?

There’s a long pause.

“Okay” the voice responds.

Lyra hurries up the stairs. She steps towards the door, but it opens before she can lay here hoof on the handle. It opens to a mare about the same age about the same age as Lyra.

“Explain the cat,” she demands to know as she walks back into the apartment.

“Oh sorry, it’s the Gorfuns cat. I crashed there last night,” she responds while closing the door after her.

There’s a stallion dressed in Royal Guard fatigues sitting on a chair stroking the cat.

“What’s its name?” he says in a friendly well-mannered tone.

“Ugh, I don’t know. He snuck out the door..” Lyra attempts to speak but is talked over by the pony who opened the door.

“Do you think you’re staying here tonight?”

Lyra pauses and looks around.

“I was hoping to,” Lyra responds.

She points to the Royal Guard relaxing on a chair with the cat.

“Well we told Trail over there he could crash here tonight.”

The stallion looks up at Lyra.

“Trail Nelson, how are you?” he greets Lyra warmly.

“How ya doin’, Lyra Davis,” Lyra answers.

Trail looks surprised.

“Oh, hello. I’ve heard your music. I’ve heard many nice things about you from Jimmy and Jeannie,” says Trail with a constant smile.

“Oh ho ho, you have not heard a single nice thing about me from Jean,” says Lyra chuckling to herself.

She gains a serious face.

“Ever.”

Jeannie glances at Lyra with disheartened glare.

“Yeah well if you’re gonna stay here tonight you’re gonna have to sleep on the floor.”

Trail interrupts the conversation.

“You can sleep on the couch if you want Lyra? I’m on leave, I can just hitch a ride back to my post in Canterlot,” Trail says helpfully.

“No no, you asked first Trail. This sad sack can just sleep on the floor,” says Jeannie in response to Trails proposition.

Lyra nods.

“Ugh yeah, I guess I’ll just sleep on the floor then,” Lyra responds dropping her Lyre on a table.

“Also Lyra, we’re all going down to the Grasslight later to see Trail play. You coming?” Jeannie asks as she turns on a kettle.

“Yeah sure” Lyra responds while tuning her Lyre.

The cat remained sitting on Trails lap the entire time without a care in the world.