“Well?” inquired Lyra. When no response seemed forthcoming, she waved a hoof in her companion's face. “Hello? Equestria to Octavia?”
The earth pony shook her head vigorously. “My apologies, Lyra. I was... No matter. You were saying?”
The mint green unicorn grinned mischievously and leaned across the table to ask, “Octy, you've been looking across the restaurant all night. I was just asking which one you were staring at.” The cellist's face reddened. “Is it the handsome brown stallion over there? Because I'm pretty sure I've seen him around Canterlot before. No? Maybe that really cute mare with the pink and blue mane? The blond pegasus with the funny eyes? C'mon, give me something here. Is it—”
Octavia sighed. “The unicorn in the corner. Blue mane, mirrored sunglasses.”
“Really?” Lyra blinked a few times. “Huh. Wouldn't have called that one. Well, if you wanna go over and talk with her, I'm happy to meet up later. Just call me first if you need the apartment to yourselves.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“I...” The gray pony coughed and her blush deepened. “I am quite certain that will not be necessary.” She glanced once more at the alabaster unicorn, then turned back to her meal. “No, I do not think I will pursue the matter further.”
“So you're not even gonna talk to her?” She rolled her eyes. “C'mon, Octy. Live a little.”
Octavia glared at her. “We were discussing those 'humans' of yours, as I recall. I believe you mentioned something about 'thumbs'?”
“Oh my gosh.” Lyra's face lit up. “Thumbs are the only the coolest thing ever.”
***
A polite stamping of hooves greeted the conductor as he strode purposefully onto the stage. The unicorn reached his position at his podium, and the applause abruptly died away. He turned toward his orchestra, an array of nearly a hundred finely dressed and deadly serious musicians, and magically raised his baton. With a flick, the cellos began to hum. Soon, they were joined by the rest of the strings, the woodwinds, the brass, and finally, percussion.
As beautiful as the music was, Octavia had rehearsed it many times before. It was not long before she tuned it out, allowing herself to play by muscle memory alone. Instead, she directed her attention toward the audience.
Ponies filled every available seat of Canterlot Symphony Hall, but it was not hard to guess that most had not come to hear the orchestra play. At least half had fallen asleep, and many of the rest were clearly struggling not to do the same. This had long since ceased to surprise or bother Octavia; as with most events in Canterlot, attending such a performance was posturing for the elites. She frequently wondered if they ever did anything they actually enjoyed, rather than what society told them they ought to do.
By the same token, she mused, when was the last time she had gone out of her way to do something fun? Her cello was her life, and she would not give that up for anything in the world, but lately it had consumed her every waking moment. There was no doubt she was a gifted musician. Surely she could afford to give up some of her practice time to other pursuits. Perhaps she would even tag along with Lyra on her next adventure.
So resolved, Octavia returned to scanning the crowd. As expected, most of the faces she spied were familiar; she was sure she had noticed them dozing through previous concerts. However, amidst the sea of candy-colored coats, a spiked blue mane caught her eye. The unicorn looked strangely different without her glasses, but it was undeniably the same pony Lyra had caught her ogling the night before.
The white mare appeared more than a little out of place surrounded by the stuffy nobility. She lacked the aura of pretense that the other attendees radiated. She was not dressed in formal attire, nor was she anywhere near the expensive seats. But what set her apart most clearly in Octavia's mind was the simple fact that she was listening. She leaned forward attentively, her head nodded slightly in time with the score, and Octavia could swear she saw the mare wipe a tear from her eye following a particularly emotional movement.
Were she less professional, Octavia might have smiled.
***
Rays of Celestia's sunlight shone through the trees, illuminating a mint-green unicorn. The mare rested atop her favorite park bench, alongside a gray mare in a pink bow tie. Her awkward sitting position accommodated a small harp, which she idly strummed with her front hooves. In the grass around her, about a dozen ponies lazed, chatting amongst themselves.
“I missed you at the concert last evening,” Octavia said, eliciting a brief pause in the music. “Out on another of your hunting expeditions?”
“Yeah,” replied the unicorn. “And I swear I'm getting closer. No human sightings, though.” She sighed. “It's like they're avoiding me or something.”
“Yes,” the earth pony deadpanned. “That is certainly the problem.” She paused briefly to admire a passing butterfly. “Out of curiosity, what did you do with your ticket?”
“I think I musta given it to Vin—a friend of mine.” Lyra winced as she missed a note, although her audience took no notice. “She told me she loved it, by the way.”
“I am quite grateful to hear that. It is nice to know there is someone out there who enjoys my performances.” She shook her head. “I just wish I could say I do. I feel I am trapped in a rut, Lyra. I need to do something different. Something fun.”
The harpist snorted, but quickly regained her composure under Octavia's glare. “Well,” she replied. “I was gonna go to the club with Berry and Colgate tomorrow. It's not exactly your sorta thing, but you're more than welcome to tag along, if you like.”
“I will... I will consider it. Thank you for the offer. Now if you will excuse me, I must return to my practice.” She stood up and trotted away.
A few minutes of gentle harmonies filled the air. Eventually, a cream-colored mare walked up to the bench. “Excuse me,” she said to the musician. “Is this seat taken?”
***
Bright lights and the stench of alcohol assaulted Octavia as she followed Lyra and her friends past the screaming partygoers. All around her, drunken ponies gyrated in what she supposed might vaguely pass for an attempt at dancing. She felt incredibly out of place at such a venue, particularly without her bow tie. Lyra had convinced her to leave it behind, yet she could not help but feel naked without it.
A group of ponies staggered across the cellist's path, separating her from her friends. Octavia quickly scanned the crowd and failed to locate them. Before long she drifted to a corner near the exit. She briefly considered walking out but decided it would be rude to leave without at least letting Lyra know. Instead, she distanced herself from the herd as best she could, and she listened.
The music was far too loud. The thumping bass was jarring. The electronic sounds were all unfamiliar. Yet Octavia found her head bobbing along with the beat. The seamless way the sounds connected momentarily entranced her.
Octavia looked around the room once again. Every inch was occupied by ponies enjoying themselves. But it occurred to her that nopony else seemed to notice the artistry of the sounds around them. They were there for the liquor, the dancing, and of course, the company. But none, it appeared, had come to hear the music.
Then she spotted the source of the sound. At the opposite end of the club, behind a set of turntables and a pair of giant speakers, stood the mare Octavia had come to recognize. The unicorn spun one of her records, producing an odd scratching noise, then magically flipped the other without missing a beat. The crowd shouted happily, and she grinned with satisfaction. In that moment, Octavia realized the white mare was not making music for the ponies dancing to it, but simply for her own enjoyment.
And she smiled.
***
“Well?” Octavia pried. Lyra raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Are you planning to introduce us?”
“Oh, right.” Her companions both giggled. “Bon Bon, this is my roommate, Octavia. Octy, this is Bon Bon, my, uh, my new marefriend. Wow, it feels weird to say that.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Bon Bon extended a hoof. “Lyra spoke so highly of you.”
“Likewise,” Octavia bumped it, smiling.
“Unfortunately, I need to get back to work. Candy doesn't make itself, after all.” She whispered something into Lyra's ear that made the unicorn grin and blush profusely, then waved her goodbye. Lyra watched with a goofy smile on her face as Bon Bon trotted away.
“She's rather cute, and she seems fond of you. I'm certain you will make an adorable couple.” Octavia sighed wistfully. “I must admit, I am rather envious.”
Lyra shrugged. “Eh, don't worry about it, Octy. I'm sure the right pony will come along sooner or later.” Her stomach growled. “I guess I need something more filling than chocolate. You wanna go get lunch?”
The two made their way to the nearest restaurant, where they were ushered to a corner table. A waitress took their orders, and moments later food was brought before them. After a few minutes of chewing, the conversation resumed.
“And they walk on two legs. Sort of like this,” the harpist rose from the table and lifted her forelegs from the ground. The strange position left her unbalanced, and she quickly toppled over. She sheepishly brushed herself off and returned to her seat. “Just, a little bit more graceful. Heh.”
“Fascinating,” came the resigned reply. Octavia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she allowed her focus to drift around the room, pause momentarily at a blond gray pegasus kissing a brown stallion, and finally settle upon a familiar white unicorn.
“Hello? Octy?” Lyra followed her friend's gaze. “Oh. Oh. Octy, you really ought to go talk to her. Don't worry, I can wrap things up here.” She shot her friend a grin. “But I've got the apartment tonight, so don't get any ideas.”
Octavia reddened at the comment, but stood up nonetheless. “I will be sure to keep my distance. But Lyra, thank you.” She tugged her bow tie straight, then wandered over to where the other mare was seated.
“Excuse me, are you Vinyl Scratch?” she asked. The unicorn looked up from her sandwich and adjusted her sunglasses. “My name is Octavia. I attended your performance last night, and I must say, you have incredible skill with the turntables. I am not usually one for modern music, but you really made it come alive for me.”
“Thanks, babe. Always cool to meet a fan. Hey, aren't you the lead cellist for the Philharmonic?” Octavia nodded. “That's awesome. I've always loved that classical stuff. And you guys are pretty amazing.”
“You are too kind. I hope I am not being too forward in asking, but—”
“You wanna get dinner sometime?”
“That sounds delightful.”
Author's Note
Thanks for reading!
This is my first story, so any feedback would be appreciated.
Much thanks to GrenouilleOrange for editing.
