Inside Lyra Heartstrings

With that damn cat locked in the apartment, the three virtuoso ponies set off down the stairs and out of the shoddy old block that Jeannie called home. Each pony carrying the instrument that they made their living with.

Trail, carrying a polished acoustic guitar slung around his body. It was covered in banners with names of all the cities and towns he’s been to in his lifetime.

Jeannie, with a small, grey satchel strapped to her side. The satchel housed a small wooden flute, a flute she has played from when she was just a filly. It wasn't easy for to learn however. No magic made playing it with her stubby hooves rather difficult, but she overcame the challenge.

Finally, Lyra was still carrying her lyre. Its shiny, metallic coat gleamed in the sun. Strapped to her side, she used her magic to strum it here and there while they walked down the street.

Little did they talk. Lyra’s depressing demeanor encouraged them not to speak. Jeannie was aware of the pain she had gone through years ago, so she withheld conversing. Trail tried to seem happy around what he thought were his new friends, but he felt too uncomfortable to speak around Lyra and her lost soul. Nothing worth talking about was happening around them. Just the same old dull street Lyra had walked up and down many times before. A carriage passed now and again, but they kept their attention focused on the where they were going.

They stopped outside a rather glum looking café. The inside wasn't any brighter either.

“This is the place, what do you think Trail?” said Jeannie with some sense of optimism.

Lyra interrupted Trail before he could speak.

“Yeah, it’s real shithole alright. Don’t get comfortable with the owner here, he’d sell his own mother for a dime.”

Jeannie placed her hoof on her face in disbelief. She was actually shocked that she hadn’t gotten used to Lyra’s cynicism by now.

“I think it looks rather nice. I like the name.” said Trail, looking up to banner above with the title “Grasslight Café” written on in bold letters.

Lyra waltzed towards the door with the others murmuring behind her.

“Well? You coming?” she said smugly.

The ponies strolled into the café. It was dark, filled with smoke from the young cultured ponies who sat inside smoking. Ashtrays filled the tables and even a little bar with a rather dire-looking donkey behind the counter. Trail and Jeannie disappeared into a backroom, preparing to fill the café with music momentarily. Lyra lazily slumped into the chair she had sat in the night before. She had a nice view of the stage and there was a quaint little table on which she placed her lyre. She didn't notice the stallion sitting right next to her.

This stallion looked over Lyra with a friendly glance. His face held a well-groomed beard and his mane was trimmed. This was someone Lyra knew well.

“Lyra! Great to see you came here to watch us play,” he said gleefully to a less than gleeful Lyra.

“Actually, I just came here to watch Trail play. He’s a good kid.  Are you and Jeannie gonna be playing here too?” she answered.

“Oh yes! Me, Trail and Jeannie will be playing our favorite song. Jeannie has a voice like honey for it,” he said with an excited attitude.

“Yeah, you’re a lucky guy to have got hooked up with her. You and her go together like pork and beans or some crap like that,” she said, staring blankly at the stage.

“Um.. yeah! She’s just a dream isn't she?”

“More like a nightmare,” mumbled Lyra.

“Come again?”

“Me? I didn’t say nothing,” she replied, still focused on the empty stage.

They both looked up to the stage. It was lit up brightly, but there was nobody playing. Lyra nudged the stallions shoulder.

“Hey Jimmy, do you think I could borrow some money? Business hasn't been running very smoothly lately,” she said, she seemed as desperate as always.

“Not again. Well, you've caught me at a bad time, Lyra. I've got no cash on me right now,” he said with empathy. He reached into his pockets to pull out nothing.

“Alright, no worries man, I’ll get by,” she replied disappointingly.

“Actually Lyra, I do have an opportunity for that you could take up with me and my friend Alfred.”

Lyra looks back at Jimmy and raised one of her lush eyebrows.

“What kind of opportunity are we talking here?”

"Me and Alfred formed a group recently, the American Cosmonauts. We sing mostly novelty songs, but we’re in the pipeline of making a new song,” he said optimistically."

“Novelty? I don’t know man, I don’t really dig that sort of thing,” said Lyra with doubt in her voice.

“Hear me out alright. It’s called Please Ms. Celestia and you’ll bust a gut just by reading it. Alfred wrote it, the guys a card!”

“Is this like space stuff? I've heard lots about it on the radio,” she said inquisitively.

“Yeah! It’s about an astronaut who sure as hell doesn't want to fly up into orbit. We need an extra voice and player, preferably someone with such a fine lyre like yours.”

“What kind of compensation are we talking here?”

“Two hundred bits, if you want to go without royalties that is, but I’d wouldn't do..”

Lyra interrupts him abruptly.

“Great! Cash is cash and I need to get my hands on some now!” she exclaims with delight.

“You sure you want to bypass royalties? You’ll make more bits in the long run,” a distraught Jimmy responds.

“Yeah yeah, I just want to get it now while the getting is good. Sooner than later would be good.”

“We can go now if you’re up to it Lyra?”

Lyra hops out of her chair.

“Like I said, sooner or later man. It’s at Kelly’s recording studio right?”

“Yeah, I’ll call Alfred and we’ll meet you down there in a few hours alright?” says  Jimmy with conflicted excitement.

Lyra’s already dashing to out of the café, ponies looking at her in confusion.

“Don’t wait up!” she shouts back Jimmy, barely keeping hold of her lyre as she bolted out the door, onto the sidewalk and down the street.

Trail is already on stage with his guitar. He watches Lyra speed out of the building. Disappointment fills his mind. He likes a friend in the audience, but no friend of his would abandon him at the first money-making scheme they can find.

Jimmy is still leaning back on his chair is looking at the door where Lyra ran out. He silently murmurs to himself.

“Heh, she’s gonna make a fine sell-out someday.”