Glass Castle, Iron Facadeby Hidden BronyChaptersChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 1As the last echoes of music faded, the cheers of the crowd replaced it in spades, creating a nearly tangible wall of sound louder than anything the DJ’s rig could ever hope to put out. She stared out at the assembled ponies, all were standing under a thin layer of hanging smoke—both from her machine and otherwise—and some were still bouncing to music that was no longer there. The ground rumbled as ponies stomped their hooves while hollering, and a chant was taken up by the crowd. “PON-3. PON-3. PON-3.” The white mare let a smirk form on her face as she basked in the love of her fans. After a few seconds, she raised a hoof, calming the crowd enough for her to be heard over it. "Thanks, everypony, and goodnight! My good friend DJ NEON MIDN1GHT here is gonna be taking you for the rest of tonight, see all you again same time next week!" With that, she strode off the stage, walking with purpose into her dressing room with her head held high. As soon as the door closed, she allowed herself to droop. She plodded over to her beanbag chair, haphazardly tossing her signature shades onto the table as she passed. She collapsed onto the comfortable chair, just letting her mind wander and recover from the hectic show moments before. She was drawn out of her musing by the teasing of an irritatingly familiar voice. “Hey, Scratch. See you’re being thoughtful. Tired?” "What are you doing here, Beat?" she asked irritatedly. "Don't you have a mare to flirt with behind your marefriend's back?" The light green stallion—Steady Beat, by name—put a hoof to his chest in half-faked indignation. "Thoughts and teases are harmless, actions have true weight." Vinyl rolled her purple eyes. "Sure. I'm certain that both whichever hussy you're dating this week and the random mare from the street completely agree with you." He sighed, mostly in irritation but with a tinge of exasperation. "You should at least pretend to be happy for me, sis." She snorted. "For what? The next in your mile-long list of conquests? I told you four mares ago that I gave up on you." Beat stomped a hoof on the ground in his first sign of true anger. "I told you yesterday that I'm engaged, Vinyl! We've been together for three years! I've changed!" "So you weren't joking about that? That mare six months ago just stumbled, punch drunk, into your room, and you were enough of a gentleman to let her use your bed for the night?" "That mare six months ago was the biggest mistake I've made in my life," Beat said quietly, "especially since Ruby trusted me when I said the one before was the last." He took a deep breath and set his jaw. "But I've put that behind me. We're weaning me off the constant flirting, and I haven't cheated on Ruby in the past six months." "Such an achievement. She's lucky to have caught you when she did." The sarcasm dripping from Vinyl's tongue was nearly palpable. "I came here to congratulate you on a set well done, but if you intend to keep insulting me, I'll just leave!" Beat snapped. "Good! Go!" Vinyl snapped back. "Go back to your gullible hussy!" Beat snarled as he whipped a hoof across his sister's face, sending her stumbling back and to the side. "Insult me all you want, but leave Ruby out of your mud-slinging." He scoffed as Vinyl looked at him in shock. "I'm turning over a new leaf, just like you did; the least you can do is pretend to support me as I did you." Before the DJ's brain could process what had happened, her brother turned around and left, slamming the door behind himself. Vinyl Scratch was at a loss for words as she stared at the door that had just been slammed in her face. She'd been hurt far worse in the past—in fact, Beat had even broken one of her legs when they were little—but it was always on accident. She could do little else but deflate as she listened to her brother's hoofsteps fade as he moved down the hall. When they disappeared, she rested her head against the painted wood. "Sorry," she muttered ineffectively. The wood remained silent as ever. After a moment, she straightened herself. Well, I can just smoothe this over as soon as I get home. If he's not there, he'll have to be soon. All his stuff's there, she thought. With a groan she walked over to her private mini bar. She needed a beer before she could talk to him again. Vinyl stumbled up the front steps to her home, having indulged herself in more than one beer. She pushed open the door and was greeted by the sound of laughter and the metallic chink of cutlery. Wearily, she walked down the hall and looked into the dining room. Around the table she saw her parents, Beat, his marefriend Ruby, and what looked like Ruby’s immediate family. She should have known that Beat wouldn’t come to her show to actually congratulate her. He must have been meant to tell her about this dinner. Groaned. Despite what she had said about her earlier, Vinyl had no problem with Ruby, she actually thought she was a good influence on her idiot older brother. Her sister on the other hand? The grey mare sat at the table as far away from Beat and Ruby as she could be, aiming a look of derision at the duo, and as such was the closest to the door. As soon as Vinyl walked—well, stumbled, more precisely—into the room, the mare’s face screwed up in disgust. “When you said they were both musicians, I assumed that one of them would actually play music.” “Octavia,” her mother chided. “There’s no reason for you to be—” “He-e-e-e-e-ey,” Vinyl’s interrupting slur held out for a few seconds as she pointed a hoof at the mare. “Hey, hey, hey, Tavi. Hey, Tavi, what I do? What I do is re-e-e-e-eal music.” She swung her hoof through the air, drunkenly accenting her held out syllable. “I do every—” she paused a moment, lifting a hoof in thought as she forgot where she was going for a second. “I do every sound by me onesy, capiche? I’m not no violin, or whatever it is you fancy shmancy ponies do with your music.” She ended her little tirade by poking the mare in the chest, leaving her hoof there. The room held their breath, hoping that the uptight mare let this drop. Octavia glared at her. “I’ll have you know that I play the cello, not the violin.” She brought up a hoof and smacked the DJ’s own away roughly. “And my name is Octavia, not ‘Tavi’.” Vinyl chuckled. “Geez, Tavi. Chill out.” "Oh, like you know the meaning of 'chill,'" said Octavia exasperatedly. "All you ever do is listen that dreadful dubstep or whatever it is. Possibly the least calm thing I've ever heard." "Well I actually don't make dubstep, so there," replied Vinyl, sticking her tongue out at Octavia. "Oh, it all sounds the same to me," grumbled Octavia, crossing her forelegs distastefully. "Loud noises which masquerade as music and have no emotion in them besides anger—if any at all.” Vinyl stiffened and walked up to Octavia, leaning into her face dangerously. She growled, "Ya wanna repeat that, you stuck up snob?" "Vinyl!" cried her mother, "you will not talk to a guest like that." "Oh, no, Mrs. Portrait," said Octavia sourly, glaring at Vinyl. "She's obviously drunk right now. I'm sure if she were sober she would be absolutely charming." Vinyl shook her head. "Nuh-uh, you dissed my music; this is me being polite." "If you can even call it music," rebutted Octavia. “I bet you write most of it drunk as you are now and don’t even play half of it out of embarrassment!” The snarl that tore its way out of Vinyl’s throat would be improperly labeled as “animalistic” or “primal”. It was a sound of pure primordial rage, emerging from a pit rooted firmly in the bedrock of base equine nature. It was, of course, followed by an equally solid hoof. Chapter 2“I’m truly sorry for her behavior,” Perfect Portrait—Vinyl’s mother—said as she pushed an ice pack to Octavia’s head. “She’s not usually this,” she twirled her hoof as she looked up in thought to find the right word. “Much,” she decided. “But she isn’t entirely to blame,” Octavia’s mother chimed in, turning a stern look at her daughter, causing her to wince in expectation of the coming chewing out. “You should know better than to act like that, Octavia! Purposely antagonizing her while she obviously wasn’t in complete control of her faculties.” “Miss Duster, it doesn’t seem fair to Octavia to blame her for Vinyls actions. She was obviously drunk,” Portrait rebutted. “Exactly,” the mare replied. “If it was obvious to us, it should have been obvious to Octavia.” The mare in question withered as her mother turned her gaze back to look at her. “So that’s why she’s going to apologize for her her part in tonight’s debacle, isn’t she?” “But Mom—” Ruby started as Octavia deflated. “Isn’t she?” Feather Duster interrupted. “Yes, mother,” the dejected mare said, starting to stand up. “I hardly think this is necessary,” Vinyl’s mother reiterated. At that moment, Steady Beat returned to the room. “Vinyl’s in her room. I’m so sorry for what she did. I don’t know what came over her.” "Oh, Octavia's fine," replied her mother with a dismissive wave of her hoof. "Nothing would have happened if she hadn't provoked her. She'll just go up and apologize to Miss Scratch." "Uh, you do know she's drunk, right? I'm not sure she'll really want to listen to an apology right now." "Yes, exactly!" said Octavia loudly, smiling gratefully at him. "I'm sure that if I go up now, anything I say will just make it worse." Octavia's mother shook her head and pointed towards the stairs. "That doesn't matter. At least if you try you can say you apologised even if she doesn't accept it. She's going to be your sister-in-law, and you had better learn how to get along with her." "And if she tries to kill me again?" said Octavia icily, glaring up at her mother. "Just bring her up another beer and she won't lay a hoof on ya," called her father from the other side of the room. Feather Duster spun around and glared at her husband, but he didn't seem to notice as he continued speaking. With a small laugh, he said "And even if she did, I'm sure my little Tavi could handle her." "Third Shift," she growled, "I think you should stop talking now." Third Shift finally noticed his wife glaring at him and shrunk under her gaze. "It was just a joke, dear," he said quietly, staring pointedly at the ground. Octavia snorted at his behavior and turned towards the stairs. "Mr Beat, would you mind showing me to Vinyl's room?" she asked coolly. "I'd prefer to get this over with quickly." "S-sure," he stuttered. Quickly, he turned around and started up the stairs with Octavia following him. They reached the first landing and started up to the second floor in silence. Halfway up these stairs, Steady Beat began to speak. “Look, I’m really sorry for what Vinyl did. She just hasn’t been herself recently. I’ve tried to talk to her but she just,” He gestured helplessly before continuing. “Well, Vinyl just isn’t the best at talking, and even when she wants to, I’m not the best at listening.” "Well maybe you should take some lessons from my sister. It's always been something she's been," she paused, "exceedingly good at," replied Octavia, still with the cold edge to her voice. When they reached the second floor, Steady led Octavia to an unassuming wooden door with light streaming through the crack beneath it. When he reached the door, he turned back to look at Octavia embarrassedly, scratching the back of his neck with a hoof. "Look, I'm sure she's really sorry about what happened, please don't stay annoyed at her." Octavia stared at him for a few seconds before she shook her head and let out a small laugh. "No, I'm not going to be mad at her for long. I still think she's wrong and I stand by what I said before about your music, but she was drunk and really, if someone said that about my music, I would have likely acted the same way. But you? No, I think I shall remain angry with you." "What? Look, I was drunk, she came on to me. I said I was sorry," protested Steady. "She said it was fine, we're okay." Octavia snorted. "My sister would forgive you if you tried to murder her. She is the kindest creature on this planet. But you? You made her cry. The last pony who made her cry ended up in hospital for three weeks and I was suspended for most of that school year." She stepped towards him and pressed her nose against his, hiding her satisfaction with practiced ease as his ears flattened and he tried to shrink away from her. "And I have no regrets about that." Satisfied, she pulled away from him, leaving him standing backed up to the door and shaking. "Fortunately for you," she continued, "I have been asked not to do the same to you. She still thinks you are salvageable—for whatever reason." She smiled at him sweetly. "Now, would you please move so I can get this out of the way and leave?" Steady nodded dumbly and stepped out of the way. "Thank you," said Octavia, her voice full of derision. She walked over to to the door and took a deep breath, straightening her bow tie before she pushed it open. When she saw inside the room she almost gasped. It had to be one of the most tidy and organised bedrooms she had ever seen, even more so than hers. No small feat, considering her mother was a maid to a very rich clean freak of a noble. Everything was neat and seemed to almost shine from spotlessness. It was large, but also rather spartan, not much in it besides a hardwood desk with what looked like her music making equipment taking up most of the space on it, a few bookshelves, a chest of drawers, and a small bed with Vinyl lying down on it looking at the ceiling. Octavia coughed politely, but the unicorn ignored her, not moving apart from a hoof tapping idly against the bedsheets. She must be listening to something. Octavia rolled her eyes and walked up to the bed. Looking over Vinyl's prone form, she noticed that Vinyl still had her tinted sunglasses on, and she had put on some headphones which seemed to be pounding in time with Vinyl's hoof taps. She still seemed to be unaware of Octavia's presence. Octavia waved her hoof over the DJ's face but still received no reaction. Rolling her eyes, she poked one of her outstretched hooves. Vinyl jerked up, her glasses almost falling off her nose and her headphones slipping off her ears to around her neck. Octavia winced at the volume coming through them. Vinyl pulled her shades the rest of the way off her face and brought her hoof up to rub her eyes. They were still closed the whole time. Octavia realised now that she had never seen her eyes before. Shaking her head and putting them back on, Vinyl seemed to stare at Octavia, her expression unreadable through the large lenses. “It’s you. What do you want?” she asked, venom in her voice. Octavia rolled her eyes and held out a hoof in a peaceful gesture before replying, “I was sent up to apologise, so—" she gestured helplessly for a moment "—I’m sorry for insulting your music.” Vinyl seemed to stare at the hoof for a few seconds before shaking her head and batting the hoof aside. "Nuh uh. You don't mean it. You're just coming up 'cause they made you. Come back when you're actually sorry." Octavia huffed and pulled back her hoof, an indignant look on her face. "Oh, come off it. I don't want to have to lie to everypony downstairs. Just accept the apology, and you can get back to listening to whatever that noise is meant to be and I'll be out of your mane." "You think I care about what you want?" she said, crossing her forelegs indignantly. "You insulted pretty much the only thing that I actually have a talent in. You don't even care enough to really apologise." "Well it's not my fault that your special talent is in something that doesn't require any!" Vinyl froze for a few seconds, her head turned downwards. Octavia wondered whether she had gone too far. Suddenly, Vinyl raised a hoof and pointed at her door, her eyes still looking downwards. In a small voice—barely above a whisper but harder than the densest iron—she said, "Out." Octavia blinked. "I beg your pardon?" "Get out." she replied slightly louder, looking up. The unbroken gaze that the mare's mirrored shades gave her unnerved Octavia slightly, and she shifted in place for a moment before steeling herself. She planted her feet feet firmly and took a deep breath before saying, "No, I'm not leaving until you accept the apology." Vinyl let out a hollow laugh. "You really don't get it, do you? You think I'll take your apology? All you've done is insult me and make one half assed apology. And while I'm talking about you, at least—" Vinyl stopped in mid sentence and took a shaky breath. “Just leave.” Octavia arched an eyebrow. “Make me.” I wonder if this is what pegasi feel like, Octavia couldn’t help but think as she felt all four of her feet off the ground. Her reverie, however, was short lived as gravity re-asserted itself, bringing her shoulder down on the edge of a stair. Hard. She half-bounced, half-slid down the remaining stairs, settling to a stop at the feet of the surprised families of both mares. Vinyl turned around without saying a word and returned to her room, with headphones repositioned and a slight stumble. There was a surprised moment of silence throughout the house, broken at a length by the mare laying unceremoniously on the floor. “Ow.” Chapter 3“Next time I meet that mare, it isn’t going to be me who ends up lying on the ground,” grumbled Octavia, holding an ice pack over her left eye with a grimace. Third Shift thumped his daughter on the shoulder. “Hey, that’s my—” Suddenly catching the glare from his wife, he continued, “I mean, you shouldn’t be so quick to fight.” Ruby sighed and turned back to Octavia as Steady Beat and his parents went upstairs to see Vinyl. "Octavia, what did you say to Steady while you were up there? He seems afraid to even touch me. And he kept looking back at you over my shoulder when we were talking just now." Ruby waited for a second before her eyes shone with recognition. "You threatened him, didn't you?" Octavia's silence was enough of an answer. "Octavia Melody, you will not harm a single hair on my fiance's head, do you understand me?" "Or you'll what?" the mare snapped, stepping forward. "Yell at me? Hit me? Ignore my presence until I beg you to have mercy and just talk to me? Empty threats mean nothing, nothing to me." Their mother gasped. "Octavia! You don't talk like that to—" "And you!" Octavia rounded on her mother. "Stop sucking up to this family because they're nobles! You aren't acting like yourself, and it's obvious! I had to apologize to a mare who punched me in the face, and if she wasn't the daughter of a noble, that wouldn't have happened!" Feather opened her mouth to speak, but her daughter cut her off. "No, don't deny it. I put a colt in the hospital and you didn't say a word, some harsh words aren't going to tip you over the edge." "Tavi, I think that's enough," Third Shift said, opening himself a the next target of his daughter's rant. "No, that's not enough. I'm not like you, father. I don't wither at the slightest glare from—" "I said that's enough," he said more forcefully. Octavia was shocked into silence by the assertiveness her normally-timid father expressed. "Listen to yourself, Tavi. I get that you're upset, but do you honestly think that this is helping?" He gestured at his wife and other daughter. "Look at them. Your sister is doing what she thinks is right, but you chastise her for her non-violent and forgiving nature. Your mother spends all day working with nobles. She cleans their houses, cooks their food, and has even—before marrying me—tended to their beds. Being polite and subservient is so crucial to her job that it's become second nature to her. Everything she does she does to keep her job and help support this family, and acting like you just did spits on everything she's done for you." A few seconds of shocked silence fell over the room. "Now if you don't mind, I've had a long day and need to get some sleep before work starts in—" he glanced at the clock on a nearby wall "—two hours." His piece said, Third Shift leaned back in his chair and instantly started snoring. No-one in the room said a word for minutes, Third Shift's words sinking in as his snores seemed to echo around the room. Suddenly, without a word, Octavia turned and walked out of the house. Just as silently, her family watched her leave. Octavia was greeted by the brisk early-spring air as soon as her legs carried her out of the house of the damned noble family. She let her mind wander as she did the same, planting one hoof in front of the other without thought. Canterlot was a different animal at night than it was during the day, and during that time—the first hours of true night—the transformation was finally, truly complete. You could hear the faint sound of thumping bass and trilling leads floating through the air alongside the smells of late-night food vendors, and the flashing magical signs that every club seemed contractually obligated to have lit up much of the "commoner" district. Nobles high and low moved about the "commoner" district in cloaks and disguises, joined by some of the more shy or famous commoners. It was a time of revelry, a time of boisterous laughter, and a time of lowered inhibitions. It was a time that she well and truly hated. Octavia felt her lip curl up as she passed an alley where two ponies were locked in an epic struggle to slay each others' tonsils while fighting a land battle against every inch of each others' skin. Not two alleys later, the same scene repeated itself. Then again, and again, more frequently as she walked. It was after the group of six couples sharing the same space—and for some, partners—she began to wonder why, exactly, she kept walking in the direction she was walking in. Her musings were short-lived, however. A cloaked pony exiting a building as good as bowled her over, and the two landed on the ground in a tangle of legs and exclamations. The other pony quickly extracted themselves from the impromptu-pile and hurriedly ducked into an alley. "Hey!" Octavia snapped, jumping to her feet and following the pony. She was not five steps behind as she entered the somehow-empty alley. "Excuse you!" The pony turned around in shock and, in a voice that Octavia just couldn't place but was obviously female, said, "Octavia? What are you doing in this part of town?" "Not even a 'sorry for running you over' then?" Octavia scoffed. "Why should I expect that from this town?" "Octavia, it's me," the other mare said, bringing a hoof up to her hood and pulling it down, revealing a long blonde mane and a clean white coat. The mare's mane was streaked throughout with a brilliant blue and fell in just the right way to cover one light blue eye from view, but fell short of diminishing the mare's smile. "It's been what, two years since school? You haven't changed a bit." A small smile crawled onto Octavia's face in response to the other mare's. "Bluebell. How's the brother?" Bluebell's face fell. "You're only asking to be nice, but thanks for trying." She took a deep breath. "Hey, about that symphony thing. You did so much better than I did. Heck, if my parents wouldn't kill me for it, I would quit and let you have my place." "That wouldn't change anything. It's much less frustrating knowing that it went to a friend instead of a nameless noble," Octavia said. "I still feel bad, you know? It seems that most the talent is in the lower class—no insult to your family, of course—but the upper class has the money and connections to keep you all shut out." "Bluebell, I take no offense to you calling my family 'lower class' because that's what we are. It's not a dirty word down here," Octavia said, shaking her head. She looked at the building Bluebell had just come out of and squinted at it for a second as if hoping to glean some information from the brick facade. "So what ere you doing down here? Mingling with the plebeians?" Her gaze returned to her friend to see her biting her lip and shuffling in place, blush fully in bloom on her face. "Bell?" The mention of her name snapped the noble out of her trance. "Uh, nothing. Yeah. Nothing. Just going for a walk." "Through a building?" Octavia's words just increased the blush on her friend's face. "Just browsing the shops, as it were." She let out a forced chuckle. "Walked into the wrong building. Honest mistake." The other mare's eyebrow creeped up her face as Bell talked, but she decided to just let it go. "Well I'm just wandering too. You up to wander together?" Belle's smile returned earnestly as she flipped her hood up. "A chance to hang out with my friend after not seeing her for two years? Heck yeah, I'm up for it." The duo walked back out into the street and turned to keep going the direction Octavia was walking before they literally ran into each other. Out of curiosity, Octavia looked up at the sign of the building Bluebell ha been in. " 'Replicant Bar'," she read aloud. She sent a glance her companion's way. "Isn't that the club where they use illusion magic and disguises to impersonate famous ponies?" Sighing, Bell responded, "Yes." "I also heard they let you 'test run' the mares and stallions," Octavia said, smirking. "Is that true?" "As far as I know," the noble groaned, already knowing where this was going. "So wait, do you—" Octavia started. "No, I don't dance," Bluebell responded. "But do you—" "No, I don't do—" she was cut off as she had to step around a pony in the crowded streets "—that either. Even if my parents wouldn't kill me, I'd die of embarrassment." "So why were you really in there?" Bluebell stopped to look at dresses through a storefront. In the window's reflection she could see Octavia's silhouette and the bright signs on the opposite buildings, and Octavia could see the blush that had returned to her friend's face. "I wanted to see how often I was requested in the front as a dancer and how often I was requested in the back as a dancer." "And what did you find?" Octavia asked as she walked up next to her cloaked friend. "I was first put on the rotation because of my relation to my brother, and it seems I have steadily gained popularity," the noble said quietly. "I'm the most requested in both, it seems." "You're allowed to request to not be displayed, you know that right?" "But Octavia, I get to see me as others do. I don't see the stumbling, nervous wreck of a filly, I see a calm, confidant, sexy mare. Why would I not want that?" The musician put her hoof on her friend's shoulder. "Because it's a lie. What you're seeing is the false bravado that whores get from knowing that nobody will ever know who they truly are. Is that really what you want stallions to think about?" "There are," Bell paused, "other reasons as well." "Such as?" The noble was silent for a minute. "I'm not feeling like wandering anymore. Let's get you home, I'll tell you there." Octavia shrugged and began walking. The two struck up some idle chatter as they walked. The buildings gradually began to look worse and worse. Of course, in Canterlot, no building truly looked bad, just relatively so. After not too long, the duo reached the front door of an apartment building. The door itself was in need of a new coat of paint, and the rest of the building was swiftly following in its footsteps. Most of the blinds in the windows were closed, letting only thin, horizontal lines of light escape here and there to tell of an occupant still awake at the late hour. A window or two was open and lit, shining into the darkness like hope on a bad day. "Okay, let's hear your reasoning, shall we?" Octavia said as the duo pulled up to the door. Bell stepped close to her friend's side and whispered in her ear, "The manager let me use their security cameras to watch. How often do you get to see yourself rammed from both sides, Octavia? How many times have you listened as you begged for someone to be harder, faster, rougher? I saw those 'whores' do things with my body that I've only seen before in my wildest dreams, and I get so excited just thinking of what else could be in store that I am seriously thinking of having the mares start to teach me to dance next week, then just seeing what happens." Octavia's mind raced as she tried to comprehend what she was hearing. "So wait, you get so turned on from the thought of being a whore that you are actually thinking of becoming a whore?" "Just see it from my point of view. How many other chances do you get to be surrounded by six stallions without sullying your reputation? How else would you get to rut with Shining Armor while having an audience, or at all?" "You just said you'd die of embarrassment if you ever—" "I know, I know. Most likely, I'd try dancing once, not like it, and never do anything of the sort ever again. But if I do like it? The possibilities are endless, Octavia." Bluebell put her hooves on the shoulders of the mare in question. "I don't think I can do this alone, and I know I don't have the right to ask you this, but I don't know who else to turn to." "Bluebell, what are you going to ask?" Octavia said, shying away a bit until she saw a sparkle of desperation in her friend's eye. "I won't help you practice dancing, if that's what you're going to ask. Otherwise, I think I could maybe be able to help." Bluebell let out a sigh of relief, dropping back to the ground and taking a step back. "Could you learn to dance with me?" After a second, she quickly added, "You don't have to go out and actually dance for the customers, but I need the support." Silence ruled the street for the first time since the duo intruded. Octavia stared at her school-day friend as she, a scion of the largest noble house in the kingdom, seriously talked about becoming an undercover whore. "I," the mare started, but stopped herself to think some more. "I'll think about it." Bluebell frowned. "Okay, I guess. It'll be next Tuesday just after six at the Bar. If you don't show up, I'll assume you're a 'no'." "It was good seeing you again," Octavia said, reaching out a hoof at her friend. Bluebell bumped the end of her hoof against her friend's. "Hey, my parents would kill me if they knew I was friends with you, so if I'm ever—" she searched for the right word "—unfriendly in public, don't take it personally." "I'll try not to," Octavia replied, the corners of her mouth falling slightly. "See you later Bell." The noble nodded, turning to head home as her friend pushed open the door to her apartment complex. "Home sweet home," she mumbled as she glanced at the retreating noble. "I know I said I would think about it, but I won't become a whore because you're going to be one. That's just not my thing." Right? Chapter 4"Vinyl Scratch, open this door right now!" called her mother. Her words were immediately followed by a loud rapping sound on the door. Vinyl groaned loudly and stomped up to the door, undoing the latch and throwing the door open. Her parents stared back at her through the now open doorway, positively livid. "What was that?" growled her father slowly, through gritted teeth. Vinyl shrugged. "Just taking out the trash." "That mare is going to be your sister in law soon. Would it really kill you to try and stay civil for once?" asked her mother, disappointment clear on her face. "I'll behave when she does," said Vinyl angrily. "It was her who started off insulting me." "But you have no excuse," countered her mother. "You should have known better. We can't blame the poor filly for where she grew up and what they taught there." Vinyl let out a hollow laugh. "So it's all crap then? All that stuff about you not caring about their background that you have to constantly tell them. From what I've heard about your conversations, those have to be the most insecure ponies I've ever heard of." Her mother was about to reply when her father cut her off. "That's different Vinyl. We're not saying we're better than them just because of their background, it's just that poor Octavia hasn't had the opportunity to learn to behave properly. Miss Ruby Slippers on the other hand, is a model of good behaviour." Vinyl shook her head and gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, what did you come up here for? I'm not apologising to that mule, not unless she does first." Vinyl's mother grimaced. "I assumed that you'd say that. Still, try to rise above such a petty feud. One of you has to eventually." "Why do you even care about this so much?" said Vinyl, gesturing at Steady as he came up the stairs with a sullen look on his face. "You never get like this with Steady when he gets back from cheating on his marefriend for the hundredth time." Steady's ears flattened and he looked down to the floor mumbling something Vinyl couldn't hear. She didn't care. "What he's doing is way worse and hurts a lot more ponies. I'm just being a mule to one pony that none of us like anyway." "That doesn't make it acceptable!" yelled her father. He took a deep breath and continued, more calmly. "I think the looks on their faces are punishment enough for him. It really is something I hope you never see, my daughter." "Well, obviously not or he'd have stopped by now, don't you think?" At these words, Steady's head drooped, and he turned and began plodding back down the stairs. Vinyl's mother shot her a scathing look and said, "Now look what you've done." She turned and started down the stairs after him, calling for him to wait. After a few seconds, she left Vinyl's view and her voice faded, leaving Vinyl and her father alone. An awkward silence reigned between them, broken only by the muffled sounds of Steady and Perfect Portrait on the bottom floor. Vinyl shuffled her hooves and looked up at her father. He sighed and shook his head. "Vinyl, some day you will have to learn to take others into account. I don't care how much it may seem like the world revolves around you when you're on stage, it's not just the other pony's responsibility to change. It's a two way street, you also need to put in an effort." She nodded blithely and, with an air of finality, said, "Yeah, yeah, good talk," before turning around and slamming the door shut in his face with her magic. She cocked her head and listened to the silence for a few seconds before she heard her father huff and trot angrily down the stairs. "Change," she muttered as she tossed her shades onto her desk. "Because I haven't changed enough yet." She plodded over to her bed and keeled over on top of the sheets. As soon as her head hit the mattress, she was asleep. After what seemed like a just a few seconds, Vinyl cracked her eyes open to the sound of pounding on her door. She groaned and rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a thump. She rubbed her head and hissed in pain. Looking up, she saw sunlight streaming through her window. It was morning and her hangover knew it. "Who's there?" she groused, unsteadily rising to her hooves. "Sis, it's me, can we talk?" called Steady from the other side of the door. "You don't want me to apologise, do you?" she asked suspiciously. "Well, it would be nice, but that's not the reason I'm here," he said sardonically through the door. "I just wanted to ask you some stuff." Vinyl looked at herself in her desk mirror and grimaced. "Fine. Give me a sec." She floated over her shades and set them on her face and ran her magic through her mane. Satisfied that she no longer looked like she had been on the wrong side of a belt sander, she called him in. He opened the door and looked at her. "Shades already, huh?" he said as he stepped in. "Hangover. Headache. Light bad." Steady nodded unsympathetically. "Well, I'll say you deserve it." "Shut up," said Vinyl through gritted teeth. "What'd you want to talk about that's so important?" "Well, I just wanted to ask why you were so angry last night. I know you like to fight, but you just seemed..." he paused, searching for the right words. "I don't know, extra pissed or something." Vinyl stared at him through the purple lenses for a few seconds before answering. "I was tired and drunk, and she got in my face. That's it." Steady shook his head. "No, that's not it. I've seen you drunker, tireder, and getting way worse insults. You just laugh 'em off." Vinyl shrugged. "I dunno, she just got under my skin. She's a very aggravating pony to be around." She giggled. "Maybe she's a better match for you than Ruby." Steady rolled his eyes. "Fine, if you don't wanna talk about it, I'll stop. But I do know something is wrong, so if you ever want to talk or anything, I'll be here." "Look at you trying to be all like a proper big brother now. I feel so loved," said Vinyl sarcastically. She sighed. "Just go away. You never cared before, why would you start now? Go back to only thinking about yourself, it suits you better." Steady's lips tightened and he turned to go out the door. He paused and, without turning, said, "You know, I haven't actually seen you without those glasses on in a long time. You wear them everywhere, even at night. You have some problems and I just..." He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. "I just don't want to fight like this anymore." With that he walked out and slammed the door behind him. Vinyl stared after him for a few moments before she shook her head and groaned loudly. "Why can't I do anything right?" She trotted sullenly back to her bed and flopped down on top of it again, her glasses falling off of her face and landing next to her bed. This time, however, she stayed awake. She tossed and turned but her pounding head wouldn't let her sleep. She rolled over, burying her face in her pillow, and groaned into it. "He was trying to be nice, even after I was that much of an ass to him last night. Sure, he was terrible at it, but he was trying." She rolled over to the edge of the bed and stared down at her glasses. They lay on the floor, large purple lenses staring back up at her. She cocked her head, as if mesmerised by her reflection. "It has been a while since I went out without these on," she murmured to herself. She floated them up with her magic and lay on her back, holding them above her head. "At this point, more ponies know the glasses than my face." She giggled. "I'm like a superhero. Nopony knows me until I have my disguise on." She held her hoof out in front of her as if giving a speech. "With the mask on, I am DJ Pon-3. Fearless, sexy, confident, and fun." Her smile faded, and she continued, "With the mask off, I'm Vinyl Scratch. Just," she sighed. "Just Vinyl Scratch." She dropped the glasses onto her face and they settled onto her nose. "I should just use the mask all the time," she mumbled. "It's not like there'd be anypony who'd miss the real me anyway." She lay on her back, looking up at the ceiling through the purple lenses for an interminable amount of time, before she heard a rumble coming from her stomach. She placed a hoof on her stomach and sighed before hauling herself up and plodded towards the door. "Okay, shower, then food, then..." she paused in front of the closed door, staring ahead blankly for a few seconds before shrugging. "I'll figure that out later." She opened the door and took a deep breath before stepping out, putting on her confident smile, ready to face her parents again. Sure, she was a little messed up, but she'd bounce back. She always bounced back. Right?
Chapter 1As the last echoes of music faded, the cheers of the crowd replaced it in spades, creating a nearly tangible wall of sound louder than anything the DJ’s rig could ever hope to put out. She stared out at the assembled ponies, all were standing under a thin layer of hanging smoke—both from her machine and otherwise—and some were still bouncing to music that was no longer there. The ground rumbled as ponies stomped their hooves while hollering, and a chant was taken up by the crowd. “PON-3. PON-3. PON-3.” The white mare let a smirk form on her face as she basked in the love of her fans. After a few seconds, she raised a hoof, calming the crowd enough for her to be heard over it. "Thanks, everypony, and goodnight! My good friend DJ NEON MIDN1GHT here is gonna be taking you for the rest of tonight, see all you again same time next week!" With that, she strode off the stage, walking with purpose into her dressing room with her head held high. As soon as the door closed, she allowed herself to droop. She plodded over to her beanbag chair, haphazardly tossing her signature shades onto the table as she passed. She collapsed onto the comfortable chair, just letting her mind wander and recover from the hectic show moments before. She was drawn out of her musing by the teasing of an irritatingly familiar voice. “Hey, Scratch. See you’re being thoughtful. Tired?” "What are you doing here, Beat?" she asked irritatedly. "Don't you have a mare to flirt with behind your marefriend's back?" The light green stallion—Steady Beat, by name—put a hoof to his chest in half-faked indignation. "Thoughts and teases are harmless, actions have true weight." Vinyl rolled her purple eyes. "Sure. I'm certain that both whichever hussy you're dating this week and the random mare from the street completely agree with you." He sighed, mostly in irritation but with a tinge of exasperation. "You should at least pretend to be happy for me, sis." She snorted. "For what? The next in your mile-long list of conquests? I told you four mares ago that I gave up on you." Beat stomped a hoof on the ground in his first sign of true anger. "I told you yesterday that I'm engaged, Vinyl! We've been together for three years! I've changed!" "So you weren't joking about that? That mare six months ago just stumbled, punch drunk, into your room, and you were enough of a gentleman to let her use your bed for the night?" "That mare six months ago was the biggest mistake I've made in my life," Beat said quietly, "especially since Ruby trusted me when I said the one before was the last." He took a deep breath and set his jaw. "But I've put that behind me. We're weaning me off the constant flirting, and I haven't cheated on Ruby in the past six months." "Such an achievement. She's lucky to have caught you when she did." The sarcasm dripping from Vinyl's tongue was nearly palpable. "I came here to congratulate you on a set well done, but if you intend to keep insulting me, I'll just leave!" Beat snapped. "Good! Go!" Vinyl snapped back. "Go back to your gullible hussy!" Beat snarled as he whipped a hoof across his sister's face, sending her stumbling back and to the side. "Insult me all you want, but leave Ruby out of your mud-slinging." He scoffed as Vinyl looked at him in shock. "I'm turning over a new leaf, just like you did; the least you can do is pretend to support me as I did you." Before the DJ's brain could process what had happened, her brother turned around and left, slamming the door behind himself. Vinyl Scratch was at a loss for words as she stared at the door that had just been slammed in her face. She'd been hurt far worse in the past—in fact, Beat had even broken one of her legs when they were little—but it was always on accident. She could do little else but deflate as she listened to her brother's hoofsteps fade as he moved down the hall. When they disappeared, she rested her head against the painted wood. "Sorry," she muttered ineffectively. The wood remained silent as ever. After a moment, she straightened herself. Well, I can just smoothe this over as soon as I get home. If he's not there, he'll have to be soon. All his stuff's there, she thought. With a groan she walked over to her private mini bar. She needed a beer before she could talk to him again. Vinyl stumbled up the front steps to her home, having indulged herself in more than one beer. She pushed open the door and was greeted by the sound of laughter and the metallic chink of cutlery. Wearily, she walked down the hall and looked into the dining room. Around the table she saw her parents, Beat, his marefriend Ruby, and what looked like Ruby’s immediate family. She should have known that Beat wouldn’t come to her show to actually congratulate her. He must have been meant to tell her about this dinner. Groaned. Despite what she had said about her earlier, Vinyl had no problem with Ruby, she actually thought she was a good influence on her idiot older brother. Her sister on the other hand? The grey mare sat at the table as far away from Beat and Ruby as she could be, aiming a look of derision at the duo, and as such was the closest to the door. As soon as Vinyl walked—well, stumbled, more precisely—into the room, the mare’s face screwed up in disgust. “When you said they were both musicians, I assumed that one of them would actually play music.” “Octavia,” her mother chided. “There’s no reason for you to be—” “He-e-e-e-e-ey,” Vinyl’s interrupting slur held out for a few seconds as she pointed a hoof at the mare. “Hey, hey, hey, Tavi. Hey, Tavi, what I do? What I do is re-e-e-e-eal music.” She swung her hoof through the air, drunkenly accenting her held out syllable. “I do every—” she paused a moment, lifting a hoof in thought as she forgot where she was going for a second. “I do every sound by me onesy, capiche? I’m not no violin, or whatever it is you fancy shmancy ponies do with your music.” She ended her little tirade by poking the mare in the chest, leaving her hoof there. The room held their breath, hoping that the uptight mare let this drop. Octavia glared at her. “I’ll have you know that I play the cello, not the violin.” She brought up a hoof and smacked the DJ’s own away roughly. “And my name is Octavia, not ‘Tavi’.” Vinyl chuckled. “Geez, Tavi. Chill out.” "Oh, like you know the meaning of 'chill,'" said Octavia exasperatedly. "All you ever do is listen that dreadful dubstep or whatever it is. Possibly the least calm thing I've ever heard." "Well I actually don't make dubstep, so there," replied Vinyl, sticking her tongue out at Octavia. "Oh, it all sounds the same to me," grumbled Octavia, crossing her forelegs distastefully. "Loud noises which masquerade as music and have no emotion in them besides anger—if any at all.” Vinyl stiffened and walked up to Octavia, leaning into her face dangerously. She growled, "Ya wanna repeat that, you stuck up snob?" "Vinyl!" cried her mother, "you will not talk to a guest like that." "Oh, no, Mrs. Portrait," said Octavia sourly, glaring at Vinyl. "She's obviously drunk right now. I'm sure if she were sober she would be absolutely charming." Vinyl shook her head. "Nuh-uh, you dissed my music; this is me being polite." "If you can even call it music," rebutted Octavia. “I bet you write most of it drunk as you are now and don’t even play half of it out of embarrassment!” The snarl that tore its way out of Vinyl’s throat would be improperly labeled as “animalistic” or “primal”. It was a sound of pure primordial rage, emerging from a pit rooted firmly in the bedrock of base equine nature. It was, of course, followed by an equally solid hoof.
Chapter 2“I’m truly sorry for her behavior,” Perfect Portrait—Vinyl’s mother—said as she pushed an ice pack to Octavia’s head. “She’s not usually this,” she twirled her hoof as she looked up in thought to find the right word. “Much,” she decided. “But she isn’t entirely to blame,” Octavia’s mother chimed in, turning a stern look at her daughter, causing her to wince in expectation of the coming chewing out. “You should know better than to act like that, Octavia! Purposely antagonizing her while she obviously wasn’t in complete control of her faculties.” “Miss Duster, it doesn’t seem fair to Octavia to blame her for Vinyls actions. She was obviously drunk,” Portrait rebutted. “Exactly,” the mare replied. “If it was obvious to us, it should have been obvious to Octavia.” The mare in question withered as her mother turned her gaze back to look at her. “So that’s why she’s going to apologize for her her part in tonight’s debacle, isn’t she?” “But Mom—” Ruby started as Octavia deflated. “Isn’t she?” Feather Duster interrupted. “Yes, mother,” the dejected mare said, starting to stand up. “I hardly think this is necessary,” Vinyl’s mother reiterated. At that moment, Steady Beat returned to the room. “Vinyl’s in her room. I’m so sorry for what she did. I don’t know what came over her.” "Oh, Octavia's fine," replied her mother with a dismissive wave of her hoof. "Nothing would have happened if she hadn't provoked her. She'll just go up and apologize to Miss Scratch." "Uh, you do know she's drunk, right? I'm not sure she'll really want to listen to an apology right now." "Yes, exactly!" said Octavia loudly, smiling gratefully at him. "I'm sure that if I go up now, anything I say will just make it worse." Octavia's mother shook her head and pointed towards the stairs. "That doesn't matter. At least if you try you can say you apologised even if she doesn't accept it. She's going to be your sister-in-law, and you had better learn how to get along with her." "And if she tries to kill me again?" said Octavia icily, glaring up at her mother. "Just bring her up another beer and she won't lay a hoof on ya," called her father from the other side of the room. Feather Duster spun around and glared at her husband, but he didn't seem to notice as he continued speaking. With a small laugh, he said "And even if she did, I'm sure my little Tavi could handle her." "Third Shift," she growled, "I think you should stop talking now." Third Shift finally noticed his wife glaring at him and shrunk under her gaze. "It was just a joke, dear," he said quietly, staring pointedly at the ground. Octavia snorted at his behavior and turned towards the stairs. "Mr Beat, would you mind showing me to Vinyl's room?" she asked coolly. "I'd prefer to get this over with quickly." "S-sure," he stuttered. Quickly, he turned around and started up the stairs with Octavia following him. They reached the first landing and started up to the second floor in silence. Halfway up these stairs, Steady Beat began to speak. “Look, I’m really sorry for what Vinyl did. She just hasn’t been herself recently. I’ve tried to talk to her but she just,” He gestured helplessly before continuing. “Well, Vinyl just isn’t the best at talking, and even when she wants to, I’m not the best at listening.” "Well maybe you should take some lessons from my sister. It's always been something she's been," she paused, "exceedingly good at," replied Octavia, still with the cold edge to her voice. When they reached the second floor, Steady led Octavia to an unassuming wooden door with light streaming through the crack beneath it. When he reached the door, he turned back to look at Octavia embarrassedly, scratching the back of his neck with a hoof. "Look, I'm sure she's really sorry about what happened, please don't stay annoyed at her." Octavia stared at him for a few seconds before she shook her head and let out a small laugh. "No, I'm not going to be mad at her for long. I still think she's wrong and I stand by what I said before about your music, but she was drunk and really, if someone said that about my music, I would have likely acted the same way. But you? No, I think I shall remain angry with you." "What? Look, I was drunk, she came on to me. I said I was sorry," protested Steady. "She said it was fine, we're okay." Octavia snorted. "My sister would forgive you if you tried to murder her. She is the kindest creature on this planet. But you? You made her cry. The last pony who made her cry ended up in hospital for three weeks and I was suspended for most of that school year." She stepped towards him and pressed her nose against his, hiding her satisfaction with practiced ease as his ears flattened and he tried to shrink away from her. "And I have no regrets about that." Satisfied, she pulled away from him, leaving him standing backed up to the door and shaking. "Fortunately for you," she continued, "I have been asked not to do the same to you. She still thinks you are salvageable—for whatever reason." She smiled at him sweetly. "Now, would you please move so I can get this out of the way and leave?" Steady nodded dumbly and stepped out of the way. "Thank you," said Octavia, her voice full of derision. She walked over to to the door and took a deep breath, straightening her bow tie before she pushed it open. When she saw inside the room she almost gasped. It had to be one of the most tidy and organised bedrooms she had ever seen, even more so than hers. No small feat, considering her mother was a maid to a very rich clean freak of a noble. Everything was neat and seemed to almost shine from spotlessness. It was large, but also rather spartan, not much in it besides a hardwood desk with what looked like her music making equipment taking up most of the space on it, a few bookshelves, a chest of drawers, and a small bed with Vinyl lying down on it looking at the ceiling. Octavia coughed politely, but the unicorn ignored her, not moving apart from a hoof tapping idly against the bedsheets. She must be listening to something. Octavia rolled her eyes and walked up to the bed. Looking over Vinyl's prone form, she noticed that Vinyl still had her tinted sunglasses on, and she had put on some headphones which seemed to be pounding in time with Vinyl's hoof taps. She still seemed to be unaware of Octavia's presence. Octavia waved her hoof over the DJ's face but still received no reaction. Rolling her eyes, she poked one of her outstretched hooves. Vinyl jerked up, her glasses almost falling off her nose and her headphones slipping off her ears to around her neck. Octavia winced at the volume coming through them. Vinyl pulled her shades the rest of the way off her face and brought her hoof up to rub her eyes. They were still closed the whole time. Octavia realised now that she had never seen her eyes before. Shaking her head and putting them back on, Vinyl seemed to stare at Octavia, her expression unreadable through the large lenses. “It’s you. What do you want?” she asked, venom in her voice. Octavia rolled her eyes and held out a hoof in a peaceful gesture before replying, “I was sent up to apologise, so—" she gestured helplessly for a moment "—I’m sorry for insulting your music.” Vinyl seemed to stare at the hoof for a few seconds before shaking her head and batting the hoof aside. "Nuh uh. You don't mean it. You're just coming up 'cause they made you. Come back when you're actually sorry." Octavia huffed and pulled back her hoof, an indignant look on her face. "Oh, come off it. I don't want to have to lie to everypony downstairs. Just accept the apology, and you can get back to listening to whatever that noise is meant to be and I'll be out of your mane." "You think I care about what you want?" she said, crossing her forelegs indignantly. "You insulted pretty much the only thing that I actually have a talent in. You don't even care enough to really apologise." "Well it's not my fault that your special talent is in something that doesn't require any!" Vinyl froze for a few seconds, her head turned downwards. Octavia wondered whether she had gone too far. Suddenly, Vinyl raised a hoof and pointed at her door, her eyes still looking downwards. In a small voice—barely above a whisper but harder than the densest iron—she said, "Out." Octavia blinked. "I beg your pardon?" "Get out." she replied slightly louder, looking up. The unbroken gaze that the mare's mirrored shades gave her unnerved Octavia slightly, and she shifted in place for a moment before steeling herself. She planted her feet feet firmly and took a deep breath before saying, "No, I'm not leaving until you accept the apology." Vinyl let out a hollow laugh. "You really don't get it, do you? You think I'll take your apology? All you've done is insult me and make one half assed apology. And while I'm talking about you, at least—" Vinyl stopped in mid sentence and took a shaky breath. “Just leave.” Octavia arched an eyebrow. “Make me.” I wonder if this is what pegasi feel like, Octavia couldn’t help but think as she felt all four of her feet off the ground. Her reverie, however, was short lived as gravity re-asserted itself, bringing her shoulder down on the edge of a stair. Hard. She half-bounced, half-slid down the remaining stairs, settling to a stop at the feet of the surprised families of both mares. Vinyl turned around without saying a word and returned to her room, with headphones repositioned and a slight stumble. There was a surprised moment of silence throughout the house, broken at a length by the mare laying unceremoniously on the floor. “Ow.”
Chapter 3“Next time I meet that mare, it isn’t going to be me who ends up lying on the ground,” grumbled Octavia, holding an ice pack over her left eye with a grimace. Third Shift thumped his daughter on the shoulder. “Hey, that’s my—” Suddenly catching the glare from his wife, he continued, “I mean, you shouldn’t be so quick to fight.” Ruby sighed and turned back to Octavia as Steady Beat and his parents went upstairs to see Vinyl. "Octavia, what did you say to Steady while you were up there? He seems afraid to even touch me. And he kept looking back at you over my shoulder when we were talking just now." Ruby waited for a second before her eyes shone with recognition. "You threatened him, didn't you?" Octavia's silence was enough of an answer. "Octavia Melody, you will not harm a single hair on my fiance's head, do you understand me?" "Or you'll what?" the mare snapped, stepping forward. "Yell at me? Hit me? Ignore my presence until I beg you to have mercy and just talk to me? Empty threats mean nothing, nothing to me." Their mother gasped. "Octavia! You don't talk like that to—" "And you!" Octavia rounded on her mother. "Stop sucking up to this family because they're nobles! You aren't acting like yourself, and it's obvious! I had to apologize to a mare who punched me in the face, and if she wasn't the daughter of a noble, that wouldn't have happened!" Feather opened her mouth to speak, but her daughter cut her off. "No, don't deny it. I put a colt in the hospital and you didn't say a word, some harsh words aren't going to tip you over the edge." "Tavi, I think that's enough," Third Shift said, opening himself a the next target of his daughter's rant. "No, that's not enough. I'm not like you, father. I don't wither at the slightest glare from—" "I said that's enough," he said more forcefully. Octavia was shocked into silence by the assertiveness her normally-timid father expressed. "Listen to yourself, Tavi. I get that you're upset, but do you honestly think that this is helping?" He gestured at his wife and other daughter. "Look at them. Your sister is doing what she thinks is right, but you chastise her for her non-violent and forgiving nature. Your mother spends all day working with nobles. She cleans their houses, cooks their food, and has even—before marrying me—tended to their beds. Being polite and subservient is so crucial to her job that it's become second nature to her. Everything she does she does to keep her job and help support this family, and acting like you just did spits on everything she's done for you." A few seconds of shocked silence fell over the room. "Now if you don't mind, I've had a long day and need to get some sleep before work starts in—" he glanced at the clock on a nearby wall "—two hours." His piece said, Third Shift leaned back in his chair and instantly started snoring. No-one in the room said a word for minutes, Third Shift's words sinking in as his snores seemed to echo around the room. Suddenly, without a word, Octavia turned and walked out of the house. Just as silently, her family watched her leave. Octavia was greeted by the brisk early-spring air as soon as her legs carried her out of the house of the damned noble family. She let her mind wander as she did the same, planting one hoof in front of the other without thought. Canterlot was a different animal at night than it was during the day, and during that time—the first hours of true night—the transformation was finally, truly complete. You could hear the faint sound of thumping bass and trilling leads floating through the air alongside the smells of late-night food vendors, and the flashing magical signs that every club seemed contractually obligated to have lit up much of the "commoner" district. Nobles high and low moved about the "commoner" district in cloaks and disguises, joined by some of the more shy or famous commoners. It was a time of revelry, a time of boisterous laughter, and a time of lowered inhibitions. It was a time that she well and truly hated. Octavia felt her lip curl up as she passed an alley where two ponies were locked in an epic struggle to slay each others' tonsils while fighting a land battle against every inch of each others' skin. Not two alleys later, the same scene repeated itself. Then again, and again, more frequently as she walked. It was after the group of six couples sharing the same space—and for some, partners—she began to wonder why, exactly, she kept walking in the direction she was walking in. Her musings were short-lived, however. A cloaked pony exiting a building as good as bowled her over, and the two landed on the ground in a tangle of legs and exclamations. The other pony quickly extracted themselves from the impromptu-pile and hurriedly ducked into an alley. "Hey!" Octavia snapped, jumping to her feet and following the pony. She was not five steps behind as she entered the somehow-empty alley. "Excuse you!" The pony turned around in shock and, in a voice that Octavia just couldn't place but was obviously female, said, "Octavia? What are you doing in this part of town?" "Not even a 'sorry for running you over' then?" Octavia scoffed. "Why should I expect that from this town?" "Octavia, it's me," the other mare said, bringing a hoof up to her hood and pulling it down, revealing a long blonde mane and a clean white coat. The mare's mane was streaked throughout with a brilliant blue and fell in just the right way to cover one light blue eye from view, but fell short of diminishing the mare's smile. "It's been what, two years since school? You haven't changed a bit." A small smile crawled onto Octavia's face in response to the other mare's. "Bluebell. How's the brother?" Bluebell's face fell. "You're only asking to be nice, but thanks for trying." She took a deep breath. "Hey, about that symphony thing. You did so much better than I did. Heck, if my parents wouldn't kill me for it, I would quit and let you have my place." "That wouldn't change anything. It's much less frustrating knowing that it went to a friend instead of a nameless noble," Octavia said. "I still feel bad, you know? It seems that most the talent is in the lower class—no insult to your family, of course—but the upper class has the money and connections to keep you all shut out." "Bluebell, I take no offense to you calling my family 'lower class' because that's what we are. It's not a dirty word down here," Octavia said, shaking her head. She looked at the building Bluebell had just come out of and squinted at it for a second as if hoping to glean some information from the brick facade. "So what ere you doing down here? Mingling with the plebeians?" Her gaze returned to her friend to see her biting her lip and shuffling in place, blush fully in bloom on her face. "Bell?" The mention of her name snapped the noble out of her trance. "Uh, nothing. Yeah. Nothing. Just going for a walk." "Through a building?" Octavia's words just increased the blush on her friend's face. "Just browsing the shops, as it were." She let out a forced chuckle. "Walked into the wrong building. Honest mistake." The other mare's eyebrow creeped up her face as Bell talked, but she decided to just let it go. "Well I'm just wandering too. You up to wander together?" Belle's smile returned earnestly as she flipped her hood up. "A chance to hang out with my friend after not seeing her for two years? Heck yeah, I'm up for it." The duo walked back out into the street and turned to keep going the direction Octavia was walking before they literally ran into each other. Out of curiosity, Octavia looked up at the sign of the building Bluebell ha been in. " 'Replicant Bar'," she read aloud. She sent a glance her companion's way. "Isn't that the club where they use illusion magic and disguises to impersonate famous ponies?" Sighing, Bell responded, "Yes." "I also heard they let you 'test run' the mares and stallions," Octavia said, smirking. "Is that true?" "As far as I know," the noble groaned, already knowing where this was going. "So wait, do you—" Octavia started. "No, I don't dance," Bluebell responded. "But do you—" "No, I don't do—" she was cut off as she had to step around a pony in the crowded streets "—that either. Even if my parents wouldn't kill me, I'd die of embarrassment." "So why were you really in there?" Bluebell stopped to look at dresses through a storefront. In the window's reflection she could see Octavia's silhouette and the bright signs on the opposite buildings, and Octavia could see the blush that had returned to her friend's face. "I wanted to see how often I was requested in the front as a dancer and how often I was requested in the back as a dancer." "And what did you find?" Octavia asked as she walked up next to her cloaked friend. "I was first put on the rotation because of my relation to my brother, and it seems I have steadily gained popularity," the noble said quietly. "I'm the most requested in both, it seems." "You're allowed to request to not be displayed, you know that right?" "But Octavia, I get to see me as others do. I don't see the stumbling, nervous wreck of a filly, I see a calm, confidant, sexy mare. Why would I not want that?" The musician put her hoof on her friend's shoulder. "Because it's a lie. What you're seeing is the false bravado that whores get from knowing that nobody will ever know who they truly are. Is that really what you want stallions to think about?" "There are," Bell paused, "other reasons as well." "Such as?" The noble was silent for a minute. "I'm not feeling like wandering anymore. Let's get you home, I'll tell you there." Octavia shrugged and began walking. The two struck up some idle chatter as they walked. The buildings gradually began to look worse and worse. Of course, in Canterlot, no building truly looked bad, just relatively so. After not too long, the duo reached the front door of an apartment building. The door itself was in need of a new coat of paint, and the rest of the building was swiftly following in its footsteps. Most of the blinds in the windows were closed, letting only thin, horizontal lines of light escape here and there to tell of an occupant still awake at the late hour. A window or two was open and lit, shining into the darkness like hope on a bad day. "Okay, let's hear your reasoning, shall we?" Octavia said as the duo pulled up to the door. Bell stepped close to her friend's side and whispered in her ear, "The manager let me use their security cameras to watch. How often do you get to see yourself rammed from both sides, Octavia? How many times have you listened as you begged for someone to be harder, faster, rougher? I saw those 'whores' do things with my body that I've only seen before in my wildest dreams, and I get so excited just thinking of what else could be in store that I am seriously thinking of having the mares start to teach me to dance next week, then just seeing what happens." Octavia's mind raced as she tried to comprehend what she was hearing. "So wait, you get so turned on from the thought of being a whore that you are actually thinking of becoming a whore?" "Just see it from my point of view. How many other chances do you get to be surrounded by six stallions without sullying your reputation? How else would you get to rut with Shining Armor while having an audience, or at all?" "You just said you'd die of embarrassment if you ever—" "I know, I know. Most likely, I'd try dancing once, not like it, and never do anything of the sort ever again. But if I do like it? The possibilities are endless, Octavia." Bluebell put her hooves on the shoulders of the mare in question. "I don't think I can do this alone, and I know I don't have the right to ask you this, but I don't know who else to turn to." "Bluebell, what are you going to ask?" Octavia said, shying away a bit until she saw a sparkle of desperation in her friend's eye. "I won't help you practice dancing, if that's what you're going to ask. Otherwise, I think I could maybe be able to help." Bluebell let out a sigh of relief, dropping back to the ground and taking a step back. "Could you learn to dance with me?" After a second, she quickly added, "You don't have to go out and actually dance for the customers, but I need the support." Silence ruled the street for the first time since the duo intruded. Octavia stared at her school-day friend as she, a scion of the largest noble house in the kingdom, seriously talked about becoming an undercover whore. "I," the mare started, but stopped herself to think some more. "I'll think about it." Bluebell frowned. "Okay, I guess. It'll be next Tuesday just after six at the Bar. If you don't show up, I'll assume you're a 'no'." "It was good seeing you again," Octavia said, reaching out a hoof at her friend. Bluebell bumped the end of her hoof against her friend's. "Hey, my parents would kill me if they knew I was friends with you, so if I'm ever—" she searched for the right word "—unfriendly in public, don't take it personally." "I'll try not to," Octavia replied, the corners of her mouth falling slightly. "See you later Bell." The noble nodded, turning to head home as her friend pushed open the door to her apartment complex. "Home sweet home," she mumbled as she glanced at the retreating noble. "I know I said I would think about it, but I won't become a whore because you're going to be one. That's just not my thing." Right?
Chapter 4"Vinyl Scratch, open this door right now!" called her mother. Her words were immediately followed by a loud rapping sound on the door. Vinyl groaned loudly and stomped up to the door, undoing the latch and throwing the door open. Her parents stared back at her through the now open doorway, positively livid. "What was that?" growled her father slowly, through gritted teeth. Vinyl shrugged. "Just taking out the trash." "That mare is going to be your sister in law soon. Would it really kill you to try and stay civil for once?" asked her mother, disappointment clear on her face. "I'll behave when she does," said Vinyl angrily. "It was her who started off insulting me." "But you have no excuse," countered her mother. "You should have known better. We can't blame the poor filly for where she grew up and what they taught there." Vinyl let out a hollow laugh. "So it's all crap then? All that stuff about you not caring about their background that you have to constantly tell them. From what I've heard about your conversations, those have to be the most insecure ponies I've ever heard of." Her mother was about to reply when her father cut her off. "That's different Vinyl. We're not saying we're better than them just because of their background, it's just that poor Octavia hasn't had the opportunity to learn to behave properly. Miss Ruby Slippers on the other hand, is a model of good behaviour." Vinyl shook her head and gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, what did you come up here for? I'm not apologising to that mule, not unless she does first." Vinyl's mother grimaced. "I assumed that you'd say that. Still, try to rise above such a petty feud. One of you has to eventually." "Why do you even care about this so much?" said Vinyl, gesturing at Steady as he came up the stairs with a sullen look on his face. "You never get like this with Steady when he gets back from cheating on his marefriend for the hundredth time." Steady's ears flattened and he looked down to the floor mumbling something Vinyl couldn't hear. She didn't care. "What he's doing is way worse and hurts a lot more ponies. I'm just being a mule to one pony that none of us like anyway." "That doesn't make it acceptable!" yelled her father. He took a deep breath and continued, more calmly. "I think the looks on their faces are punishment enough for him. It really is something I hope you never see, my daughter." "Well, obviously not or he'd have stopped by now, don't you think?" At these words, Steady's head drooped, and he turned and began plodding back down the stairs. Vinyl's mother shot her a scathing look and said, "Now look what you've done." She turned and started down the stairs after him, calling for him to wait. After a few seconds, she left Vinyl's view and her voice faded, leaving Vinyl and her father alone. An awkward silence reigned between them, broken only by the muffled sounds of Steady and Perfect Portrait on the bottom floor. Vinyl shuffled her hooves and looked up at her father. He sighed and shook his head. "Vinyl, some day you will have to learn to take others into account. I don't care how much it may seem like the world revolves around you when you're on stage, it's not just the other pony's responsibility to change. It's a two way street, you also need to put in an effort." She nodded blithely and, with an air of finality, said, "Yeah, yeah, good talk," before turning around and slamming the door shut in his face with her magic. She cocked her head and listened to the silence for a few seconds before she heard her father huff and trot angrily down the stairs. "Change," she muttered as she tossed her shades onto her desk. "Because I haven't changed enough yet." She plodded over to her bed and keeled over on top of the sheets. As soon as her head hit the mattress, she was asleep. After what seemed like a just a few seconds, Vinyl cracked her eyes open to the sound of pounding on her door. She groaned and rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a thump. She rubbed her head and hissed in pain. Looking up, she saw sunlight streaming through her window. It was morning and her hangover knew it. "Who's there?" she groused, unsteadily rising to her hooves. "Sis, it's me, can we talk?" called Steady from the other side of the door. "You don't want me to apologise, do you?" she asked suspiciously. "Well, it would be nice, but that's not the reason I'm here," he said sardonically through the door. "I just wanted to ask you some stuff." Vinyl looked at herself in her desk mirror and grimaced. "Fine. Give me a sec." She floated over her shades and set them on her face and ran her magic through her mane. Satisfied that she no longer looked like she had been on the wrong side of a belt sander, she called him in. He opened the door and looked at her. "Shades already, huh?" he said as he stepped in. "Hangover. Headache. Light bad." Steady nodded unsympathetically. "Well, I'll say you deserve it." "Shut up," said Vinyl through gritted teeth. "What'd you want to talk about that's so important?" "Well, I just wanted to ask why you were so angry last night. I know you like to fight, but you just seemed..." he paused, searching for the right words. "I don't know, extra pissed or something." Vinyl stared at him through the purple lenses for a few seconds before answering. "I was tired and drunk, and she got in my face. That's it." Steady shook his head. "No, that's not it. I've seen you drunker, tireder, and getting way worse insults. You just laugh 'em off." Vinyl shrugged. "I dunno, she just got under my skin. She's a very aggravating pony to be around." She giggled. "Maybe she's a better match for you than Ruby." Steady rolled his eyes. "Fine, if you don't wanna talk about it, I'll stop. But I do know something is wrong, so if you ever want to talk or anything, I'll be here." "Look at you trying to be all like a proper big brother now. I feel so loved," said Vinyl sarcastically. She sighed. "Just go away. You never cared before, why would you start now? Go back to only thinking about yourself, it suits you better." Steady's lips tightened and he turned to go out the door. He paused and, without turning, said, "You know, I haven't actually seen you without those glasses on in a long time. You wear them everywhere, even at night. You have some problems and I just..." He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. "I just don't want to fight like this anymore." With that he walked out and slammed the door behind him. Vinyl stared after him for a few moments before she shook her head and groaned loudly. "Why can't I do anything right?" She trotted sullenly back to her bed and flopped down on top of it again, her glasses falling off of her face and landing next to her bed. This time, however, she stayed awake. She tossed and turned but her pounding head wouldn't let her sleep. She rolled over, burying her face in her pillow, and groaned into it. "He was trying to be nice, even after I was that much of an ass to him last night. Sure, he was terrible at it, but he was trying." She rolled over to the edge of the bed and stared down at her glasses. They lay on the floor, large purple lenses staring back up at her. She cocked her head, as if mesmerised by her reflection. "It has been a while since I went out without these on," she murmured to herself. She floated them up with her magic and lay on her back, holding them above her head. "At this point, more ponies know the glasses than my face." She giggled. "I'm like a superhero. Nopony knows me until I have my disguise on." She held her hoof out in front of her as if giving a speech. "With the mask on, I am DJ Pon-3. Fearless, sexy, confident, and fun." Her smile faded, and she continued, "With the mask off, I'm Vinyl Scratch. Just," she sighed. "Just Vinyl Scratch." She dropped the glasses onto her face and they settled onto her nose. "I should just use the mask all the time," she mumbled. "It's not like there'd be anypony who'd miss the real me anyway." She lay on her back, looking up at the ceiling through the purple lenses for an interminable amount of time, before she heard a rumble coming from her stomach. She placed a hoof on her stomach and sighed before hauling herself up and plodded towards the door. "Okay, shower, then food, then..." she paused in front of the closed door, staring ahead blankly for a few seconds before shrugging. "I'll figure that out later." She opened the door and took a deep breath before stepping out, putting on her confident smile, ready to face her parents again. Sure, she was a little messed up, but she'd bounce back. She always bounced back. Right?
