Not Everything
The Cello was my first love.
I met it in a small store in downtown Trottingham, and it was love at first sight. The smooth, curved wood, the long neck, the strings, the bow, everything was perfect. I ran home and emptied my piggybank to buy it. A rash and bold decision, in hindsight, but the best one I ever made. My parents, of course, were so angry with me. I never played an instrument before and suddenly their son comes home with one after spending all his money on it. Thankfully the store owner didn’t do refunds and I managed to convince my parents to let me keep it, if only to try.
Two weeks later, I got my cutie mark.
After seeing the bow and musical notes firmly ingrained in my coat, my parents had no choice but to accept it. And three years later, in another bold move, I moved to Canterlot to try and live of my music. After getting off the train the city greeted me with opportunity. I played on street corners for small change; I performed in lobbies and dining rooms in exchange for a warm meal or a roof over my head for a night. It was just me and my Cello, and it was perfect.
Or I thought it was.
‘Hey…’
I barely heard her at first, resting on a small wooden park bench after an impromptu performance. After looking up and meeting her gaze, I first checked behind me and under the bench. This made her chuckle.
‘I’m talking to you silly.’
I looked at her again, my mouth agape, and poked myself in the chest with the bow of my instrument.
‘Yes, you.’ She chuckled again and promptly sat down next to me on the bench. Mind you, at this point I’ve been in the city for a few months. I believed I was accustomed to Canterlot quite well, and I knew enough to know this unicorn mare wasn’t like me. For one, she smelled nice. She dressed well, and her accent betrayed her roots to the higher class of the city.
‘I heard you play. You’re really good,’ she told me, beaming a smile at me as she sat on the same bench. I lowered my bow again, finding my eyes drawn to hers. ‘Do you play in an orchestra?’
‘Uhm… No, I just play on the street and wherever people ask me to play,’ I responded.
‘I see…’ the mare said, seemingly deep in contemplation. ‘Where are you staying?’ she asked. I hesitated with my answer. She was so direct, demanding the information so she could work out her ideas.
‘I don’t know yet,’ I replied in earnest, clutching my Cello closer to me. I had no idea what was happening, why this strange pretty mare I didn’t know was asking me all these questions. She didn’t give me much time to think about it either.
‘You just arrived in Canterlot?’ she asked, arching a cute little eyebrow.
‘Oh no! I’ve been here a few months.’
‘And you don’t know where you’re staying? Do you have amnesia? Do you remember your own name? Oh you poor little thing, should we go see a doctor?’
‘What? No! I said I don’t know yet. I just figure out where to sleep when it comes to that.’
‘So you’re a hobo?’
I sighed deeply. I met this mare just five minutes ago and she was already chatting my ears off. I eyed her for a moment, wondering what this unicorn wanted from me. After I failed to respond to her question, her smile drooped for one moment, before another idea visibly snuck into her mind and returned the smile.
‘Prove it,’ she said.
‘What? That I’m a hobo?’
‘No, silly! That you don’t have amnesia. What’s your name?’
I looked at her for a moment, trying to gage if she was serious or not. Her unfaltering smile convinced me she was entirely serious, and I let out a sigh.
‘I don’t like telling ponies my name,’ I said after a while, looking away. I could practically hear her pout next to me, and I felt a pang of guilt.
‘You’re weird,’ she said ultimately. When I looked up to tell her it was in fact her that was out of the ordinary, I found myself staring at her extended hoof.
‘Lyra Heartstrings.’
I stared at her hoof for a while longer, dumbfounded, until I realised what she was doing. I met her hoof with my own and gave her what I now suspect to be the weakest smile ever to adorn a pair of lips. ‘Nice to meet you,’ I said, shaking her hoof.
‘Yup!’ she said, grinning. Then she broke off the hoof shake and jumped off the bench. ‘Anyways! Gotta go now! Meet me here in a week! You won’t regret it! Promise!’
I blinked and prepared to protest, but the time it took me to blink was enough for the strange mare to have run off. My bow still in my hoof and my Cello leaning against my shoulder, I stared after her.
‘Heartstrings…’ I whispered to myself.
The Cello was my first love.
I spend the next week in Canterlot in an extremely good mood. I continued my performances and struck deals with owners of restaurants and inns wherever I could. However, I did so with purpose this time, instead of living in the moment with my Cello, I moved towards my peculiar meeting with an even more peculiar unicorn mare.
Sure enough, I found myself sitting on the very same park bench seven days later. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and since we hadn’t agreed to a time, I spend the better part of the day sitting on that bench. Eventually, my boredom got the better of me and I rested the neck of my instrument against my own and let the bow glide over the strings to pass the time.
A small crowd of ponies enjoying a late evening stroll through the park quickly gathered around my bench. I was used to this by now. The stranger the place I performed in, the faster the crowd gathered. As my Cello produced the final note of the performance, I looked up and a couple of ponies stomped their hooves in appreciation. The more higher-class ponies simply smiled and nodded my way, and I returned them.
‘Excuse me!’
A familiar voice pierced the murmurs of the crowd as the ponies slowly went about their business again, and my heart jumped. I rested my Cello against the bench and stood on my hind legs to look over the crowd. Sure enough, Lyra Heartstrings made her way through the crowd, smiling apologetically at those whose hooves and tails she stepped on. When she noticed I spotted her, her smile became a grin and I involuntary blushed.
‘I knew you’d be here!’ she said happily when she finally reached me.
‘Sure. Crazy meeting set up by a crazy mare I only just met? Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ I returned.
‘Sweet! Now come on, I have some ponies dying to meet you!’
Without explanation, she took off. And without explanation, I grabbed my instrument and followed her. I followed her through and out of the park, past increasingly fancy shops and through streets with names I couldn’t even pronounce, all the while keeping a steady pace. I couldn’t even ask any questions with my bow in my mouth, so I just let it happen.
We arrived at an incredibly fancy street with huge buildings, a district I never visited. The parts of the city filled with tourists were where the bits and meals were found, and thus where I spent my time. Yet there I was, following Lyra Heartstrings for reasons I didn’t quite understand. She led me to the largest building of all, and for a moment I thought she was going to enter it, but at the last moment she disappeared into a small alley. When I arrived the alley myself, I peeked past the corner. The narrow street was worlds apart with the main street it led to. Dirty walls lined with trash cans, old posters and questionable graffiti. I started having second thoughts.
I saw Lyra Heartstrings down the alley, holding open a door and beckoning me to follow. The light that shone on her from inside was warm and inviting, and the way it lit up her smile send my heart aflutter, so I set aside my fear of small, shady alleys, made sure my Cello was safely on my back, and followed.
When I approached, Lyra beamed another smile my way and stepped inside. I quickly slipped in after her before the door could fall shut. I blinked against the bright inside several times. However, my ears were the first to take in some information.
‘Foxtrot! Foxtrot! I brought the colt I told you about!’
‘Hey!’ I said as my vision slowly returned to me. ‘I’m not a colt, I’m sixteen!’
I looked around and found myself in a large room with wooden floors, brick walls and abundant lighting. Various ropes hung suspended from the ceiling and the room played host to an assortment of crudely placed stools and most importantly, a wide selection of instruments. I found Lyra Heartstrings standing at the entrance to a hallway leading deeper into the building, smiling at me.
‘Brought him? I bet you kidnapped him,’ a deep voice boomed from the hallway. ‘Let’s see this colt then.’
‘He says he’s not a colt!’ Lyra sing-songed back. Loud hoof steps approached and if put before Celestia herself, to this day I swear the entire building trembled as the biggest earth pony stallion I had ever seen in my entire life stepped around the corner. He was at least twice as tall as me or Lyra and his thick, long coat was a deep brown with streaks of grey. Two immense eyebrows all but covered up two tiny, sparkly eyes that caused me to freeze in place as they looked at me.
‘Not a colt? Well he certainly ain’t no stallion, so what are you hiding, kid?’
‘That’s not what I-‘
‘Lyra, I think you brought a filly,’ the stallion remarked, causing Lyra to chuckle and in turn I blushed profusely. The stallion laughed loudly and for a moment I feared the building would collapse and bury us all. After the laughter subsided I stood there awkwardly and the stallion raised one of his big, brushy eyebrows.
‘Did Lyra tell you why she brought you here?’ he asked. I slowly shook my head after remembering I followed a nigh perfect stranger to the place and had no idea where I even was. ‘Lyra,’ the stallion said kindly, ‘could you please tell this filly why you brought her?’
‘I’m not a girl!’ I blurted and immediately cringed and blushed.
‘What are you called, then?’ the stallion asked.
‘I… uhm…’ I murmured, at a loss for words in face of this giant pony.
‘Pssst,’ Lyra hissed as she nudged the stallion. ‘He doesn’t like telling ponies his name.’
This caused the stallion to raise his eyebrow to almost comical heights. ‘No name? Well, we gotta call you something. Colt of filly, which do you prefer?’ he asked, bearing two rows of teeth in a big grin.
I sighed. ‘Colt…’
‘Good! Good! I’m Foxtrot and you already met our little rascal Lyra. Who is now going to tell you what this all about,’ he said, nudging Lyra forwards. She laughed and pushed his hoof away before stepping forward.
‘Fine! I guess I do owe you an explanation, huh, colt?’
‘Would be nice to at least know where I am,’ I said in agreement.
‘Then let it be my honour to welcome you to…’ she paused to strike a dramatic pose, holding her forelegs wide and bellowing, ‘The Royal Canterlot Concert Hall!’
She stood there expectantly, and sure enough, I watched her in awe. ‘You’re with an orchestra?’ I asked in amazement.
‘Well…’ she began as she lowered back on all fours again. ‘Yes and no.’
Foxtrot chuckled before pushing Lyra aside and taking a step forward. ‘Make that no and no. I’m with the association, in a way. I don’t play in any orchestra, but I run errands and take care of this place. And I run a little raggedy group of would-be musicians in the back rooms.’
‘You play?’ I asked, imagining the huge stallion operating a contrabass or perhaps a tuba. He nodded.
‘A bit,’ he said. ‘But I’m an appreciator more than a musician. I do what I do to give you youngsters a chance to see what real music can be like. Now Lyra, you were explaining the colt what you want from him.’
‘I want you to join us!’ she promptly said. ‘You’re really good and we need more ponies on the strings!’
Her request overwhelmed me slightly. I knew next to nothing about her, about Foxtrot or about the Royal Equestrian Orchestra or the group of aspiring musicians that apparently make a habit out of playing in their empty halls. To accept such an offer would have been utter madness. So it was with a grin that I said,
‘Count me in.’
‘Yes! I knew you’d agree!’ Lyra exclaimed, punching the air with a hoof. Foxtrot smiled and put a hoof on my shoulder.
‘I’m glad to see such enthusiasm, colt. Now, if Lyra says your good, I believe her, but I think the rest of the group would like to hear you perform before they can fully accept you.’
‘Oh come on, Fox, they’ll accept him, no problem! We need a cellist, everypony realises that.’
‘We’ll see, Lyra, we’ll see. We rehearse every Friday, colt, is that gonna be a problem?’
I didn’t even pretend I had to think about that question. ‘Not at all!’
Foxtrots nodded approvingly. ‘We’ll see you then. Lyra, walk him home, will ya? I don’t want our new Cellist to get lost on the day he joined us.’
‘I will Fox! Thanks! Come on, Colt!’
And that, glancing over my shoulder at the biggest pony I had ever seen before running after an erratic cute unicorn mare, is how I joined the unofficial Junior Canterlot Orchestra. I had little to no idea what this entailed, but I was keen to find out. After following her around for roughly half an hour, I asked Lyra Hearstrings where we were going.
‘Oh, right, you don’t have a home and stuff, do you? Hmm…’ she rubbed a hoof over her chin in contemplation, and I just knew that right beneath that horn she was brewing some crazy idea again. Sure enough, before I could even ask her why it took her thirty minutes to realise she wasn’t going anywhere, she looked me straight in the eyes, smiled and said, ‘Wanna stay at my place?’
Had I been drinking something, I would have undoubtedly sprayed it all over her, so I counted my blessings that all that escaped my mouth was a weak sputtering noise.
‘W-w-what? Your place? I don’t… Uhm… I can’t, I don’t think that’s…’
Lyra giggled, and after the red had faded from my face, I found my voice again. ‘Uhm… You don’t even know my name,’ I said.
‘So? I like you, colt. I don’t think you would hurt a fly, so why shouldn’t I let you stay at my place?’ she returned. I nervously began to scratch my ear with my bow.
‘I’m sorry, but I think I’ll stay on the street for a bit longer,’ I eventually said. Her ears drooped slightly at that, but I just wasn’t ready for what she was asking. ‘But thank you for the offer, Lyra Heartstrings. I look forward to seeing you play.’
Her ears perked up again and she smiled at me once more. ‘Me too, colt. I’ll see you at the rehearsal.’
With that, Lyra Heartstrings winked at me and walked away. Each step she took tugged at my heart, and with shaky breath, I put a hoof to my chest. I hadn’t even heard her play yet, and I already thought she was the absolute best at her instrument. I found a bench in the park and curled up on it for the night, hugging my Cello tightly. My breath condensed on the wood as I looked into my reflection.
‘Looks like we might make some friends, buddy.’
I closed my eyes and murmured, ‘Might make it big… Wouldn’t that be something?’
The following morning I sat on the sidewalk, sipping a coffee I just bought with some money I got from a performance, and thought over what was going to happen. Until then, I just played my Cello because I loved it, and because I was able to. The city had given me the opportunity to do what I enjoy the most, and Lyra Heartstrings added another opportunity on top of that. Playing with other musicians wasn’t something that ever crossed my mind. I always treated my Cello as a solo instrument.
I pulled my Cello closer and took another sip of coffee, letting the warmth spread through my cold limbs. The thought of the aquamarine unicorn brought a smile to my face. Playing with others might be nice change for me. With that, I finished my coffee in an optimistic gulp that near burned my throat, threw the empty cup into a bin with a well-practiced throw and hoisted my Cello on my back.
The week was over before I knew it. I struck a nice deal with an innkeeper I played for before and was able to spend the previous three nights in a warm bed. A very nice deal indeed, considering autumn was creeping closer with each passing day, and the nights were getting chilly. As was custom with deals made with Lyra Hearstrings, I had no clue as to what time the rehearsal would be at, so it was still early in the afternoon when I sat down on the sidewalk next to the alley she showed me the week before.
I was content with waiting and simply watching the city move past. Every pony seemed to move with purpose and always towards something, to the next appointment in their endless schedule. Many times have ponies watching me play told me they envy my freedom most of all. My ability to not be required to be anywhere. I always took these compliments lightly, but for some reason it was only then beginning to dawn on me what they meant.
The sun dipped behind the buildings when a unicorn around my age passed me closely. He was wearing a checkered suit and sporting glasses. He glanced at me and his eyes rested on my instrument for a moment. Then he simply walked past me and turned to go down the alley. A similar scene repeated itself three times, with another unicorn colt and two mares, an earth pony and a pegasus. The colt and earth pony mare simply continued on but the pegasus mare lingered to stare at my Cello for a while. When she met my eyes she quickly looked away and sped down the alley. I didn’t move from my spot.
‘Heya, Colt!’ a familiar voice called out. I looked up with a smile already on my lips.
‘Hello, Lyra Hearstrings!’
‘Sorry I’m a bit late, are the others here yet?’ she asked nonchalantly as I got up.
‘I think? I saw some ponies enter the alley.’
‘Oh, right, you don’t know what they look like yet. How long have you been waiting for?’
I hoisted my Cello on my back and thought about the question for a while. ‘Since noon.’
‘Whaaat?’ Lyra exclaimed as we began to walk down the alley together. ‘Don’t you have, like, places to be and stuff?’
‘Not really,’ I said, with as much of a shrug I could muster with my instrument on my back.
‘Oh yeah, I keep forgetting you’re a hobo.’
We laughed as she pulled open the door with her magic, and we stepped into the back rooms of the Concert Hall. The wooden stools I saw the week before now played host to the ponies that entered the alley before me, along with Foxtrot. Their chatter fell silent as they noticed I arrived. Sheepishly, I stood in the centre of attention, resisting the urge the start scratching my ear with my bow.
‘Good to see you, colt,’ Foxtrot said, getting up. I had assumed he was seated on the floor, but his sheer hugeness simply obscured his stool. ‘Allow me to introduce you.’
He took position between me and the other ponies and cleared his throat. ‘Colt, meet everpony. Everpony, meet colt.’
I counted myself lucky I was already standing there awkwardly, so I didn’t have to do anything to accommodate for the new situation.
‘As expected of you, Foxtrot,’ the unicorn with the glasses said, getting up. ‘Allow me to properly introduce our little group. You already met Miss Heartstrings.’
‘Come on, Morin, just call me Lyra.’
‘Right,’ the colt said sharply. ‘My name is Morin Trotivari,’ he went on, ignoring the fact Lyra already addressed him by name. He adjusted his glasses and tried to stand tall, poking his chest forward. ‘You may recognize the name.’
I looked at him with a raised eyebrow for a while, wondering why this colt thought I should know his name. After a while of nothing happening, the second cold stood up.
‘I’m Marble Mason, nice to meet you. I play the piano,’ he said simply. Behind him, Morin almost fell over.
‘Hey! I was-‘
‘I’m Brass Whistle, the trumpeter around here,’ the earth pony mare said, giving me a smile. Morin vigorously corrected his glasses using his magic and tried to speak up, but before he did Brass Whistle pulled the pegasus mare from her seat and put a hoof around her. ‘This is Eloquence, she plays the harp and can’t talk.’
Brass Whistle grinned and rubbed a hoof through Eloquence’s mane. The pegasus yelped and blushed before freeing herself from her friend’s grasp and hovering into the air. She fidgeted with her mane and looked in my general direction.
‘I-I can talk…’ she said, barely louder than a whisper.
‘Excuse me!’ Morin said sharply. ‘Kind of trying to introduce myself here!’
‘His dad makes violins,’ Marble Mason said, receiving a glare from Morin. ‘And he plays them.’
‘Not just any violins!’ Morin said, once more poking his chest forward in pride. ‘Trotivari violins are the finest, most beautiful instruments money can buy! The hard work and dedication that goes into each and every single one is unrivalled and has earned my family the honour of providing some of the most legendary violinists with their instrument! Only the best wood is-‘
‘Right!’ Foxtrot said, clapping his hooves together. ‘Now that you know everypony, how about you show us what you got, Colt.’
I looked at Lyra, who smiled and nodded reassuringly. I got my Cello off my back and stood on my hind legs, resting its neck against my own. Brass Whistle and Marble Mason looked on curiously, with Morin having reluctantly agreed to stop talking for now and watching me as well. Eloquence still hovered in the air, only peeking at my Cello from underneath her rustled mane. Foxtrot’s kind eyes just about appeared under his eyebrows, and I could tell everpony was ready to judge my playing. I let out a breath, readied my bow, and closed my eyes.
I played in an empty room, save for me and my Cello.
As the final note still lingered, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes again. Lyra Heartstrings grinned widely at me, Foxtrot smiled, and the others gave me looks varying from approval to admiration.
Morin adjusted his suit and stepped forward. ‘Not bad… Not bad at all, you-‘
‘That was awesome!’ Brass said, shoving Morin aside. ‘The way you played! I mean, no offense, but when I saw you haul in your instrument on your back like that I thought Lyra just plucked you off the street.’
‘I told you he’d be good,’ Lyra said, slapping me on the back. She looked at Foxtrot with a grin. ‘Need I ask, Fox?’
‘I think your performance was wonderful, colt. And I think Brass, Marble and Elo will agree with me. As far as I’m concerned, you’re in,’ he said calmly. Before the corners of my mouth could reach my ears, however, he spoke up again, freezing my grin. ‘But, Morin, being our fiddler –‘
‘-Violinist-‘ Morin interrupted with a quick adjustment of his glasses.
‘Morin being our stick-in-the mud, he’s the best judge for a Cello performance. What do you think?’ Foxtrot asked, stepping aside to let the tiny unicorn be the centre of attention, a chance Morin graciously accepted.
‘Right, thank you, Foxtrot. As I was saying, you certainly have talent, but it shows you’re a street performer. Self-taught, I presume?’
I nodded, impressed he was able to draw that conclusion from one performance. ‘Quite impressive, I must say,’ Morin continued. ‘The question isn’t if you’re good enough to join us, but you’re the right pony. Don’t get me wrong, I’m being purely professional. Some street performers who may play better than even the royal celestial orchestra itself may never be able to put up with the discipline staged performances require. Since it comes down to me, I’m going to ask you. Do you want to join us, colt?’
I looked around, still on my hind legs with my Cello in one hoof and my bow in my other. The others eagerly awaited my response, but my gaze was drawn towards one face in particular. Any doubt I may have had melted as my eyes met hers and read what they said. She wanted me to say yes. And with her eyes, she forced the words out of my mouth.
‘I’ll join you.’
And so, I officially joined the unofficial Junior Canterlot Orchestra. The rest of the evening was spend getting to know the other members and learning about the history of the place. As Morin had told me, his parents were quite famous in the industry, and he has been playing the violin ever since he could lift it. Even the other members reluctantly agreed Morin was probably the most talented musician of the bunch. In the middle of Morin’s speech about the history of his family, Brass nudged me and whispered that Morin will talk non-stop if you let him, so she set about interrupting him with her own story.
Brass Whistle was a rather wild mare. Confident, to-the-point and rough, but also kind. She was relatively new to her instrument, and her cutie mark was a lily, courtesy of her mother’s flower boutique. She swore that if she had discovered her instrument sooner, a picture of a trumpet would be on her haunches. I found her rather interesting. It has never occurred to me before ponies could be unhappy with their cutie marks.
Eloquence was the polar opposite of Brass. She told her story in mutters and whispers, but she seemed happy enough to tell it. When she found the harp, she instantly knew it was to be her special talent. She loved the delicacy of the instrument, it reminded her of herself and that it isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Her cutie mark did display her instrument, something Brass often and openly complained about.
Compared to the rest of the group, Marble Mason was so normal he stood out because of it. His family was, unsurprisingly, one of stone masons. His father taught him the trade and it had since earned him his cutie mark of a hammer and chisel and a piece of marble. The piano was something that came natural to him, and before he joined the junior Orchestra, he had never even considered it to be something special.
Then the group’s attention settled on Lyra Heartstrings, who grinned. ‘Want to have a guess, colt? What instrument do you think I play?’ she asked playfully. I pretended to rub my chin, deep in thought.
‘You know, I always pictured you with an accordion.’
We shared a laugh, and it was the sweetest thing I heard. Lyra’s laugh, mixing with mine, accompanied by the low chuckle of Foxtrot and the pure and genuine giggle of Brass. Even Morin and Marble laughed, and so did Eloquence. It warmed my heart, for I had found my place.
The evening ended too soon, we all agreed. Next week would mark our first time playing together, Foxtrot assured. With that, we parted ways, Lyra and I accompanying each other. We walked to the same park where we met, and there she looked at me.
‘I’m glad you could join us, Colt,’ she said, smiling warmly.
‘As am I,’ I returned. She glanced over at the park bench behind me.
‘You know, the offer still stands. You can always just stay at my place.’
I looked her in the eyes for a while, but eventually looked away. ‘Maybe, in the future,’ I said. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to the street just yet. She nodded, she didn’t understand, but she respected my decision.
‘Good night, Colt.’
‘Good night, Lyra Heartstrings.’
As predicted, the next time the junior Orchestra met, we played together. Foxtrot had picked a piece to test our new arrangement, especially how well I could play with the other members. It was a new experience for me, to play with others. I suddenly needed to adjust my pace and volume. Instead of making playing harder, however, it simply made it… more. My music went from simply being mine to something more.
I thought I liked it, but I had experienced nothing.
As a final performance, Foxtrot arranged a duet between me and Lyra Heartstrings. He seemed to find this very amusing. For some reason, more so than with anypony else, I found myself extremely nervous as I rested my bow on the strings, Lyra Heartstrings sitting across from me, her lyre floating in sparkly golden magic. When she began playing, everything else seemed to disappear. Like I was floating in a vast space with the unicorn plucking at the strings of her instrument, each note seeming to resonate with a string inside my heart. I had never met a pony with a more fitting name or skill in her instrument.
She had to stop to remind me a duet meant I had to play as well. After a blush, sheepish apology and various chuckles from the other members, I focused and joined Lyra. It was amazing. My bow wasn’t simply controlled by my hoof but by her magic and music as well. As my bow slowly slid down my instrument to play the final note, I looked Lyra Heartstrings in the eyes as her hoof played the final melody.
I didn’t like it, I loved it.
As the weeks went by, the time I spent with the orchestra became my drive and focus. I’d use my performances on the street to practise the pieces Foxtrot gave us, and played them with joy and vigour every Friday. I got to know the other members better, and occasionally we’d even hang out at a café where we would discuss not only music but the trivia that accompanied teenage life. We became friends.
The others thought I was crazy for living on the street, but strangely enough it was Marble Mason who was the first to express his respect for my life style. He said as long as I was happy and not a bother to others, I was living a good life. The others found it hard to disagree.
Time went on and one season went and another came. A permanent chill dominated the Canterlot air. I had since received a cover for my Cello to protect it against the elements and a bright red scarf to do the same for me. I was thankful for this, as it was also beginning to get harder to find places to stay, most inns booked full with travellers. When the holidays approached Lyra Heartstrings pulled me aside one Friday night, after most of the others had gone home already.
‘Hey, Colt, got a minute?’ she asked.
‘Sure,’ I said as I finished wrapping my scarf around my neck.
‘You know… the offer still stands.’
I looked at her blankly for a moment before I realised what she meant. I instantly blushed and almost blurted a denial, but then I started thinking. We’ve been playing together for months now, hanging out, getting to know each other. I had become close friends with all the members of the orchestra, but it didn’t take me very long to reach a certain conclusion.
I was in love with Lyra Heartstrings.
With the way my life and my focus had changed recently, maybe, just maybe I was ready to say goodbye to the street. I hoisted my Cello, now safely tucked away in its cover, on my back and smiled.
‘Then I’ll just have to take you up on it.’
Her face lit up, taking my heart with it. She pulled me closer in an embrace that send my Cello clattering to the ground.
‘Geez, Colt! I thought you’d never say yes!’ she exclaimed. I responded to the sudden embrace by carefully patting her on the back.
‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,’ I said softly. When Lyra broke the embrace, her face was one huge grin. She pulled me along, barely giving me enough time to snatch my Cello before being dragged away.
‘Come on! Come on! I kept the guest room all tidy just in case you’d say yes! Oh, this is going to be so much fun!’
I let myself be dragged away by this unicorn mare that I had come to love, not minding, caring or in fact even remembering where she was taking me. All I saw was Lyra Hearstrings and the fact that she was happy. Imagine my surprise when I was neatly deposited in front of a fancy apartment block in the better part of Canterlot. Lyra was positively beaming as I sat on the sidewalk and stared the building.
‘You’ve seen my place before, haven’t you, Colt?’ Lyra said, nudging me with a hoof. I slowly shook my head, realising it had always been Lyra walking me to the park where we would say our goodbyes. It had become such a habit that in my months in Canterlot, I had not once walked Lyra home.
‘It’s… quite a place,’ I said softly. After a moment of silence, I looked at Lyra and saw her staring straight up.
‘Right on time…’ she whispered. I cocked my head in confusion, before a sudden cold wetness poked my muzzle. I snorted almost instinctively and shook my head. I stared skywards to see where it had come from, and my eyes widened.
The first time I had seen snow in Canterlot. In Equestria, really. We didn’t get snow where I grew up, so the sensation of this chilly white stuff slowly descending upon me from the sky was a very interesting sensation for me indeed. I immediately put my Cello down and experimented with this new phenomenon. Lyra laughed at me as the snow continued to fall and I tried to eat it, rolled around in it, and left my hoofmarks.
‘Hey Colt!’
I looked up and got a face full of snow. The suddenness sent me flying backwards and by the time I had recovered enough to see I was absolutely covered in the frozen stuff, Lyra already had a second snowball floating in her magic.
‘No fair!’ I half-shouted, half-laughed as I tried to dodge the snowballs Lyra was throwing at me. The only reason I was able to eventually tackle her and send her into a mountain of snow as well is because she was giggling so much it was affecting her aim. We lay there for a while, laughing, chuckling and giggling in a pile of snow, when I felt a strange reaction work its way up my body.
‘Colt, you okay?’ Lyra asked when she noticed. I didn’t even respond and tried not to move. But it was too late, it couldn’t be stopped now.
‘Aahh… choo!’
Snow is cold. Very cold.
‘I can’t believe you caught a cold from your first time seeing snow!’ Lyra remarked, floating over a cup of tea as I sat at her table, shivering underneath a pile of blankets. The cup began to shake uncontrollably when it touched my hooves, so Lyra had to keep it steady with her magic as I drank it. I sheepishly thanked her and gladly noted the tea did help supress the shivers, so I took the liberty of looking around.
Lyra’s apartment was big, yet cosy. It could just be the snow-littered, lantern-lit streets outside the window adding to this atmosphere, but I liked to think Lyra herself was responsible for it as well. Her apartment actually enjoyed the luxury of a small fireplace. I could only hope my new cover protected my Cello better from the snow as my scarf did me. After another loud sneeze, I concluded I must look incredibly out of place in an apartment this fancy.
‘I’m glad you said yes, Colt,’ Lyra said as she sat down in a chair next to the fire and floated out her lyre. ‘You could have frozen to death if you slept outside in this weather, geez,’ she mumbled as she closed her eyes and began to pluck at the strings of her golden instrument. I did not sneeze or shiver once as I watched her play until I was forced to close my own eyes as well.
That’s how I moved in with Lyra Heartstrings. It was very strange to get used to at first, having to return to the same place at the end of every day, but it was something nice to get used to. I still performed at various corners of various streets in the city for money. I tried to offer some of it to Lyra as compensation but she would hear nothing of it.
As the snow continued to fall and my cold refused to disappear, the ponies of Canterlot grew increasingly grumpy. Despite the constant sneezing, I found I really liked the snow. The ponies I played for seemed extra thankful for the opportunity to forget their day-to-day worries, and with Lyra refusing to accept any of it, my pile of bits began to grow.
I was content with this. More than content, in fact. I loved the snow.
‘You’re late,’ Morin said one evening as Lyra and myself stepped inside of the Equestrian Orchestra building, shaking the snow off our coats and out of our manes.
‘Have you looked outside lately? It’s a small miracle the rest of us are on time,’ Brass Whistle replied.
‘I’ve been here for a while… I didn’t want to run late so I went early,’ Eloquence said, playing with her mane. As I looked around the room, I noticed something quite strange. So strange, in fact, that I shook my head and looked again.
There was Lyra, who just came with me, Morin, tapping his hoof impatiently, Brass Whistle, rolling her eyes at Morin, Eloquence looking everywhere in the room where nopony was seated, Marble Mason quite simply sitting on a stool and Foxtrot regarding me with careful eyes.
And then there was the grey mare with a black mane sitting on a stool with her eyes closed and forelegs folded.
‘Oh! Who’s that?’ Lyra asked when she spotted the mare as well. Morin adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath.
‘This is O-‘
‘I’m Octavia,’ the mare said. Her voice was smooth as silk and even from just her introduction it was quite clear she had a posh accent. Lyra happily approached the earth pony and offered her hoof. Octavia almost reluctantly reached out for the hoof-shake.
‘I’m Lyra! Lyra Heartstrings! Always good to see a new face. What do you play?’
‘Ah… uhm…’ Octavia began, clearly uncomfortable with the fact Lyra was still shaking her hoof. ‘I play the Cello,’ she said after realising answering Lyra’s question was the quickest way to have her hoof returned to her. I practically froze, my own instrument still half on my back. A Cellist? I looked at her curiously. I wondered how good she would be. She obviously wasn’t from the street. I imagined she had quite a few lessons.
‘Really?’ Lyra exclaimed. ‘Colt here plays the Cello as well!’
Octavia looked at me and I don’t believe I ever smiled more sheepishly. I felt an almost irresistible urge to take out my bow and start scratching my ear with it, but I suspected it wouldn’t help Octavia establish a positive first impression of me.
‘Colt?’ she said eventually. ‘That’s your name?’
‘Oh… No. Uhm… you see-‘
‘He doesn’t like telling ponies his name,’ Lyra said. ‘We just call him Colt. It’s become normal for us.’
Octavia raised an eyebrow. ‘I see…’
‘Right!’ Foxtrot said, clapping his hooves together. ‘That’ll do for introductions. Octavia will be joining us, and a second Cellist opens a lot of doors. Today I want to focus on getting used to playing with our new member, and I’ll prepare some pieces for two Cellos by next week.’
So we did just that. Octavia performed solo so we could judge her skill first. It was strange to hear another Cellist play. The music I played had always been something… personal. To hear someone of her skill play the instrument that I loved was almost unsettling. And she was good.
‘Splendid!’ Morin said, stepping forward after Octavia had finished playing. ‘Your performance is very well practiced; I don’t think I heard a single mistake in there. But oh, apologies, let’s hear what our own Cellist has to say first.’
After staring at Morin for a while in disbelief, I concluded he just really did gave somepony else the opportunity to talk. Then I realised I had no idea what to say and soon my bow was scratching my ear.
‘Uhm… very good,’ I said awkwardly. After everypony stared at me for a while, they realised that was really all I had to say. The critique round moved on to the other members, and mostly there was praise for Octavia. Foxtrot finished the round.
‘I think can all see Octavia is skilled enough to join us. It would be the first time we’ll have two ponies on the same instrument, and I would like to take this opportunity to demonstrate something. Colt, do you know what piece Octavia just performed?’
‘Uhm… I don’t know the name, but I can play it,’ I replied. It was a piece I picked up from somewhere before I moved to Canterlot, a slow and heavy piece.
‘Perfect,’ Foxtrot said. ‘Could you please play the same piece now, like you would on the street?’
‘I guess? Sure.’
I removed my instrument from its case and somewhat awkwardly passed Octavia on my way to the central stool. I sat down and rested my bow on the strings. I looked around the room before closing my eyes and playing alone. I forgot the performance I just heard and simply played what I knew.
‘Excellent,’ Foxtrot said after I finished. ‘Now, I want each of you to not be shy and tell me, out of Colt and Octavia, who do you think is the better Cellist?’
Foxtrot looked around the room, but nopony was eager to speak up. ‘Very well,’ Foxtrot said. ‘Morin, why don’t you tell us first?’
The unicorn looked at me in shock, so I smiled at him. Octavia just seemed eager to know how she compared. Once sure he wouldn’t get in trouble, Morin, cleared his throat.
‘Octavia,’ he said.
‘Marble, what about you?’
‘Octavia.’
‘Brass?’
‘Colt.’
Foxtrot smiled. ‘Eloquence?’ he asked next.
‘Uhm… Don’t be mad, but… Colt.’
‘Lyra?’ Foxtrot asked finally. I looked over at the mare I loved, her forelegs were folded in contemplation, and she slowly nodded as she seemed to think about it. We all waited expectantly for her answer that would decide the final score. Eventually she took a breath and looked up.
‘Both.’
‘Excellent! This is precisely what I hoped for,’ Foxtrot said. ‘Care to explain, Lyra?’
‘Well…’ Lyra began. ‘Octavia makes less mistakes, she knows the piece and performs it almost perfectly. Colt knows the general feel of the song and even though he makes mistakes he weaves them into the performance. They’re so different I can’t really say any is better than the other.’
I was surprised by this, but it made sense. Foxtrot went on to explain how circumstances couldn’t have been more perfect. Even though we now had two ponies on the Cello, Octavia and myself were polar opposites when it came to how we played the instrument. We could perform the same piece at the same time and it would sound like a duet, both of us playing a different part of the same song.
‘I take it you are self-taught,’ Octavia said to me after we finished for the day. I nodded.
‘Did you take lessons?’ I asked her. Her face darkened for a moment before springing back into her look of professional neutralism.
‘Yes, many. My parents ensured I learned the skill at a young age. I don’t have any memories of a life without my instrument. Where did you get yours?’
‘I bought it on a whimsy and ended up loving it so much it earned me my cutie mark. Played on the streets of Canterlots before Lyra brought me to Fox, and here I am.’
She nodded politely. ‘I see. It’s been interesting meeting you, Colt. Until next week.’
‘Yeah, sure. See you then,’ I said.
And that is how I met Octavia.
She certainly added something to our orchestra. She was driven, devoted, and flawlessly knew any piece Foxtrot assigned her with the next week. It was like she was moving towards something and was pulling us along with it. I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
‘I heard she wants to go pro,’ Morin said. We all nodded silently, sipping our hot chocolates that we just purchased from a cosy café on a snowy street corner. ‘So why did she join us? We’re just… playing music.’
‘Maybe it’s not true? I dunno, I don’t like believing in rumors,’ Brass Whistle said before taking a big gulp that simply had to burn her throat.
‘She applied for the celestial orchestra,’ Marble Mason said. ‘I overheard Foxtrot talking about it. They actually considered her, but ultimately turned her down.’
‘They considered her?! She’s like… what? Seventeen?’ Morin exclaimed.
‘You heard her play. She can learn any piece in a week and play it flawlessly. I think the only reason they turned her down is because they think she’s too young,’ Marble said.
‘So why did she join us? We’re not even actually associated with the concert hall,’ Morin asked. Marble shrugged.
‘That I don’t know. Maybe she wants to make us an official Orchestra? It would be her best shot at becoming a pro.’
‘An official orchestra? Us? Playing in front of… crowds?’ Eloquence asked before trying to hide her face inside her mug.
‘I don’t know,’ Morin began. ‘It could happen. We’re decent. Right? And Fox is with the concert hall. He could pull some strings, talk to the right ponies. Maybe it’s not a bad idea.’
‘The official Junior Canterlot Orchestra, huh?’ Brass said softly, her mug against her lips. ‘I like the sound of that…’
I sat there quietly, playing with my scarf. Had I had my bow, it would be scratching my ear. Becoming an actual Cellist… a real professional musician? Why did the idea of that scare me so much?
The rest of that winter was relentless. The snow crippled the normally busy capital and the rehearsals were cancelled until the weather would lighten up. My apparent inability to cope with the cold pretty much left me stranded in Lyra’s apartment. Most of the time was spent playing Cello, reading one of the many books Lyra had and generally spending time with Lyra herself.
Had I mentioned I love snow?
‘Say, Lyra?’ I asked one evening.
She looked up from a letter she was reading. ‘What’s up?’
‘What do you think? Should we try to become an official orchestra?’
She leaned back in her chair. I don’t know why she liked sitting the way she did, but I found it quite amusing. ‘I don’t know. I like playing the lyre, and I like playing it with you guys. If we could end up doing that all the time… I guess it’d be pretty great.’
‘But… playing in front of all those ponies that came to see the orchestra?’
Lyra laughed. ‘You play in front of strangers all the time, Colt. Why would it be different if they actually came to see you?’
I fidgeted with my hooves, wishing I had my bow so I could scratch my ear. ‘I don’t know… I think it’ll be weird.’
‘Sounds like somepony is nervous,’ Lyra said playfully, putting the letter back in a box where she kept all the letters she received. ‘Relax, Colt. We don’t even know if it’s going to happen. And if it will, it’s just playing with the group like we always do.’
‘I guess…’ I said, before folding my forelegs and letting out a sigh. I don’t know why it bothered me so much. I loved the time I spent with the orchestra; this should have been a good thing. After looking at Lyra one more time, I decided to take her advice. I was probably worrying too much.
Winter left as soon as it came, but it left my cold behind. I found myself missing the lovely snow. It just didn’t feel right to shiver and sneeze in clean streets. With the arrival of Spring, Canterlot slowly awoke from its hibernation. Like heavy, rusty gears, the ponies left their houses and went back to work. Among these ponies was a group of young musicians.
We arrived at the orchestra building like it was just the week before we last played there. We greeted each other and exchanged stories about how we fared during the unusually harsh winter. Apart from Brass Whistle’s mother having a hard time acquiring new flowers for her boutique, we all escaped the winter relatively unharmed. Of course, my cold still persisted. Foxtrot didn’t waste any time when he arrived. He immediately told us to sit down and listen.
‘Now, I heard you kids have gotten it into your head our little Orchestra could become an actual orchestra. I don’t know if the arrival of this idea has anything to do with the arrival of Octavia, but that doesn’t matter. You need to know what it means. What we have right now is a group of skilled musicians enjoying their music and spending time together. If we become official, it will be a job. It will be different. It won’t be worse, it won’t be better, it will be very, very different.’
He paused to let his words sink in, and that they did.
‘Well? Do you still want to? I’m leaving this up to you guys. I’ll help you to try and achieve this, but only if each and every one of you wants it.’
He looked at us, and in turn, we looked at each other. There was unison, an unspoken agreement. We wanted this. We all did.
Except for me.
I don’t know why, but when Lyra told Foxtrot yes, I had to force a smile and nod along. Foxtrot gave us a new assignment to see if we could do it. We had a single week to learn a piece, and then we had to perform it over and over again for an entire evening without any mistakes. It wasn’t a hard piece, not by a long shot. Yet I found myself struggling to even remember the notes.
‘Colt? You okay?’ Lyra asked three nights before the rehearsal. ‘Normally you read the sheet music once and you memorized it. Something wrong?’
My bow met my ear. ‘I don’t know. It’s like Foxtrot said; it feels so different.’
‘We haven’t even performed yet, Colt!’
‘I know, I know. It’s just the idea that gives me this weird feeling.’
Lyra fell silent for a moment and I met her bright yellow eyes that were deep in contemplation. I felt a pang of guilt that I was responsible for this. I was making this harder than it needed to be.
‘I’ll you what,’ Lyra said eventually. ‘We’ll give it a shot, and if it doesn’t work out, we won’t do it.’
‘I can’t do that!’ I said miserably. ‘I don’t want to be responsible for everypony not getting the chance of their life, especially since we’re all working so hard for it.’
I found my head aiming itself at Lyra. Her horn glowed and I felt the gentle yet firm touch of her magic around my chin. ‘I don’t speak for myself when I say it’s either all of us, or none of us. Our friendship is worth more to me than whether or not we can prefix our Junior Orchestra with “official”.’
I tried to look away but her magic didn’t allow me to. Lyra’s eyes displayed determination. She really meant what she said. Finally, she released me from the spell, and I had to struggle not to avert my eyes.
‘Thank you Lyra, that really helped,’ I said. She smiled and nodded happily. After that, the music came to me much easier. By the end of that day, Lyra and I played most of the piece together perfectly. Maybe things would work out after all.
The day of the performance came, and despite my nerves, it went well! With what Lyra told me in mind, I simply relaxed and played, forgetting how it was different from all the other times I did. And we did it! Maybe becoming a professional cellist was something I could after all.
‘Excellent!’ Foxtrot said, clapping his hooves together. ‘Absolutely magnificent! You far exceeded my expectations, all of you.’
Instinctively, my bow began to scratch my ear, unsure how to handle the compliments. Performing the same piece over and over for an entire night was nothing if not tiring, and I wasn’t the only one panting or leaning on their instrument. Octavia seemed to be only one who maintained her cool after such a performance. Foxtrot continued with excitement in his voice.
‘I was going to wait with this, but seeing how well you are doing I see no reason to postpone it. I’m going to arrange a performance for you in the concert hall. I know a pony or two that owe me some favours, and if you can impress them, they’ll vow for you in becoming official.’
‘Yes!’ Lyra exclaimed. She practically dropped her instrument in her hurry to hug as many ponies as possible at once. I just managed to exclude my bow from the embrace to save it from breaking.
‘Lyra…’ Morin wheezed. ‘Can’t… breathe…’
‘Sorry!’ Lyra said sheepishly before releasing us from the embrace. Brass Whistle laughed and rubbed Morin’s mane as he caught his breath again.
‘Careful Lyra! We don’t wanna lose our violinist right before a big gig!’
‘Excuse me?’ Morin said, correcting his glasses. ‘We play classical music, Brass. We have performances, not gigs. It would do you well to-‘
Brass responded by putting a foreleg around Morin’s neck and furiously rustling his mane with the other. ‘What was that, Morin? You’re wondering why we don’t let you finish your sentences?’
Even Octavia chuckled as Morin struggled to free himself from the rough earth pony’s hold. I possibly laughed the hardest of all. This was amazing. Things might change when we go pro, but it doesn’t have to be worse.
Foxtrot reserved the concert hall for an evening the next month, giving us plenty of time to prepare. And prepare we did. We received a checklist of things to take into account. Not only were we to study an entire set of new pieces to perform flawlessly, we had to present ourselves. My Cello would need to be touched up, as months of being out on the street had weathered it before I got a cover. I proudly paid for this myself with the bits that had been piling up in my possession. And then there was a point on the list that horrified me. I’ve been confronted with it ever since I moved to Canterlot, but I never thought it was something I had to partake it, clothing.
Morin always wore his trademark checkered suit, and Lyra liked to wear simple dresses from time to time. Even Octavia wore a bow tie around her neck when I saw her, but I never wore anything past the scarf that protected me from cold winter nights. As such, Lyra insisted on introducing me to something I’ve also heard rumours about, yet never experienced beyond fabled retellings.
Shopping.
Lyra had to drag me by my hoof to the shopping district of Canterlot. I couldn’t even make excuses, with my Cello being touched up, I had nothing else to do. The sensation of being dragged along by the unicorn made me recall the time we first met. When I fell in love with her. It seemed ages ago. We arrived at a square where we would meet up with Brass, Marble and Eloquence. My hooves were already sore from trying not to trip.
‘You could have just asked me to follow you,’ I said, rubbing my sore hooves together.
‘Nah, where’s the fun in that?’ Lyra said teasingly. Her tone made me blush for some reason, and I reached for my ear with a phantom-bow. In turn, she laughed and began to hum and kick her hooves as we waited for the others to arrive. We didn’t have to wait for long, and I found myself thinking I wouldn’t have minded spending some more time alone with Lyra like this.
‘Sup?’ Brass said as they approached, waving a hoof. ‘Sorry we’re late. Elo needed some convincing.’
I raised an eyebrow at Brass, but she was just grinning at me. I then focussed on Eloquence, and she did seem uncomfortable to be here. ‘What’s wrong, Elo?’ I asked. ‘You don’t like shopping?’ the question seemed to startle her.
‘Oh! N-no! Uhm… I love shopping, I just don’t like to… force ponies.’
‘Force ponies? What are you talking about?’
Before she could answer, Brass spoke up again. ‘Did you bring it, Lyra?’ she asked.
‘Yup!’ Lyra said, before floating out a bag that ringed as it moved. A bag that was strangely familiar.
‘Hey! Where did you get that?!’ I exclaimed as I recognized what passed for my wallet. I jumped at the bag containing my money, but Lyra floated it just out of my reach, causing me to almost fall on my face.
‘Nuh uh uh, Colt. We’re going to do the shopping today,’ she said, grinning as Brass and Eloquence joined her to her sides. ‘You’re our personal mannequin.’
‘What…?’ was all I could muster, my mouth agape.
‘Heck, you don’t even know what clothes look like, Colt. Trust me, you’re better off letting us girls pick something for you,’ Brass said, joining Lyra in grinning widely.
‘S-sorry…’ Eloquence said to the air just beside me.
I looked at Marble Mason in disbelief. ‘And why are you here?’ I asked. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he actually smiled.
‘To watch.’
I glanced at the three mares and tried to judge whether or not my bag of bits was a good enough reason not to run for my life. Shortly after I decided it wasn’t, Brass wrapped a firm hoof around my shoulder, sporting a grin from ear to ear.
‘Come on, Colt. It’ll be fun!’
Her voice was deceptively cheery, but the amount of strength she put in the leg around my neck made me swallow and nervously nod. I shot Eloquence a pleading look. Surely she would be able to talk some sense into Lyra and Brass. When she averted her eyes I almost painfully realised that in order to be a voice of reason you’d have to actually have a voice.
My blood drained from my face and my already sore hooves helplessly scraped against the pavement as Brass and Lyra forced me along into the many boutiques Canterlot had to offer. My hopes I’d be able to make a swift escape while the girls looked for clothes was crushed by Marble’s presence. He didn’t want this rare moment of enjoyment to slip away and had offered to stand guard. My efforts to negotiate with him only increased the size of his smile.
My final hope was that somepony in the streets or perhaps a store clerk would recognize I was being held hostage and warn the authorities, but this hope was swiftly crushed. The few colts and stallions I spotted were dragging their hooves and carrying bags of clothing. They were fellow prisoners. And Marble was my warden.
Before long I was thrown into a changing cabinet and what must have been hundreds of articles of clothing were held against me, judged and thrown out again because they were “too simple” or “not simple enough”. It felt like I was drowning in fashion. This feeling was intensified as a bowtie was suddenly wrapped around my neck. The coughing fit this inspired was exploited to hoist me into a vest and my resulting protest was silenced when Lyra’s magic deposited a hat on my head that was supposed to pass for fancy. Before I could come to terms with this, I was pulled out of the cabinet and dumped in front of a mirror.
‘Tah-dah!’ Lyra said, waving a hoof at the mirror. I leaned to the left to look past the mirror and was met with grins on Brass and Marble’s faces. Eloquences tried so hard not to look at anypony I almost mistook her for a mannequin. I sighed and stared at my own deadpan reflection.
‘I look ridiculous,’ I concluded, trying to adjust the bowtie to let some air into my lungs.
‘Nah! You look cute, Colt,’ Lyra said. The honesty in her voice threw me off guard, and I fidgeted with my hooves at the lack of a bow to scratch my ear.
‘Cute…?’ I repeated softly, before blushing after realising I said it out loud.
‘Yeah! You should wear clothes more often!’ Lyra said with a grin. I felt like Eloquence as I averted my eyes. After I managed to pull myself together, I came to the conclusion that I loved shopping.
Brass and Marble tried to poke fun at me, but I just smiled as my own money was used to pay for the outfit. The roles seemed to be reversed. When they noticed I was no longer mortified by the idea of clothes, their grins quickly disappeared. Brass muttered something about “anti-climactic” as we walked towards the café we hung out at more often, my back for a change carrying bags of clothing instead of my Cello.
‘Hey Colt,’ Brass said, giving my bag of bits a shake. ‘Your treat?’
‘Sure,’ I responded with a smile. Brass grinned once more and whispered something to Marble. I wasn’t the only one who noticed this.
‘Hey!’ Lyra said, stopping and turning around. ‘What’s with the secrecy?’
‘You’ll see,’ Brass said teasingly. As Lyra began to question Eloquence, who tried to avoid eye-contact, making Lyra dance around her, I wondered what the surprise could be. Everypony except me and Lyra seemed in on it. When we came close to the café, Brass told us to stop. With a grin, she produced a blindfold and held it up.
‘Oh no! Not this again!’ Lyra exclaimed, struggling against Brass as she tried to put on the blindfold. Marble stepped closer to try and help Brass. ‘Last time you blindfolded me I ended up with a doughnut around my horn!’
‘Come on! That only happened once!’ Brass said, trying to hold Lyra down.
‘My magic was sweet and sticky for a week!’ Lyra pushed against Marble’s face with a hoof, keeping him and the blindfold out of reach.
‘Just trust us, okay?’ Brass groaned from trying to keep Lyra still. ‘You’ll see why all of this is worth it.’
Lyra stopped struggling and seemed to think about it. A strange sight, with Brass on top of her and Marble standing by with a blindfold. In hindsight we were probably lucky nopony called the guards on us.
‘Fine.’ Lyra sighed. Brass let out a relieved breath and got off her and extended a hoof for Lyra to get up as well. ‘But I’m warning you,’ Lyra added after brushing the dirt out of her coat. ‘Any kind of pastry, and I’m never trusting you again.’
Brass laughed. ‘No pastry, promise.’ She nodded at Marble, who put the blindfold on Lyra. The first thing brass did was poke the now blinded Lyra in the chest with an elbow. ‘Can’t guarantee it won’t be sweet, though.’
‘Don’t tease me like that!’ Lyra said. The anxiety in her voice made me hold a hoof to my mouth to try and supress a chuckle, to no avail. ‘Having fun, Colt?’ Lyra asked when she heard my laughter, trying to sound scolding.
‘I am,’ I said. Lyra didn’t complain anymore after that. She just wanted to get this over with so she could get rid of the blindfold. I could tell it was absolutely killing her she couldn’t move at her own ridiculous pace and had to be led by Brass.
As the shop came into view, I began to wonder what this surprise could be. Only Lyra was blindfolded, so it was for her. For some reason, this made me even more curious. They hadn’t included me in the plan, so was it something from the time before I joined the group?
Lyra’s anxiety continued to grow with each step, inciting giggling from the rest of the group, save Eloquence. When we crossed the street I craned my neck to see if I could spot anything that might be the surprise. Nothing caught my eye, making me even more curious. Then an earth pony mare stepped out of the shop. This wouldn’t have stood out, had she not approached us with a big grin as soon as she spotted us. I had never seen her before, but Brass apparently did.
‘What are you doing? You’re supposed to wait inside!’ Brass told the stranger. Lyra bit her lip to contain herself.
‘Who? Who are you talking to?’
‘Sorry Brass, I just couldn’t wait,’ the stranger said. Lyra’s ears perked up from under her blindfold as soon as she heard the voice. She instantly turned towards this mare.
‘Is that… you?’ she asked, her voice nigh trembling.
‘It sure is,’ the mare responded with a grin. Brass and Marble nodded at each other, smiling. After a tug of Marble’s blue magic, the blindfold slid down Lyra’s face. She didn’t move, staring at the mare as the fabric that until recently covered her eyes slowly fell towards the ground. I looked back and forth, trying to figure out what was going on and trying not to let my perpetual cold ruin the moment with a sneeze or cough. Then Lyra suddenly leapt forward and wrapped the stranger in a tight embrace.
‘Bon-bon!’ she cried in joy. ‘It is you!’
Bon-bon? I hadn’t heard that name before. Lyra seemed extremely happy to see her though, so I smiled as well. ‘I thought you couldn’t leave Ponyville!’ Lyra said, still embracing Bon-bon.
‘Are you kidding me?’ Bon-bon said, rubbing Lyra’s back with a hoof. ‘My marefriend’s orchestra becoming official? No job at a candy shop could make me miss that.’
‘Guys!’ Lyra exclaimed, letting Bon-bon go and frowning at Brass and Marble. ‘It’s not even official yet!’
‘Come on girl, you know we got it,’ Brass said casually. ‘Oh yeah, before I forget,’ she added. Grinning, she waved a hoof towards Bon-bon. ‘Surprise.’
Lyra’s attempts to stay angry quickly melted as Bon-bon gave her another hug from behind. Laughing, Lyra craned her neck to peck the earth pony on the cheek. Glowing, Lyra smiled at Brass and Marble. ‘Thanks.’
‘Don’t mention it,’ Brass said. ‘Now, how about we go inside and fill in your marefriend on the details?’
The group continued, laughing and poking fun each other, talking about collective memories and events.
‘Colt?’ Lyra called out, a hint of worry in her voice. ‘You coming?’
I blinked once, unaware that I was stood in the middle of the street, watching the scene unfold. I met Lyra’s eyes and smiled. It was crooked, disgusting jab across my face that ran deep into my soul.
‘Sure,’ I said, pouring as much cheer into my voice as I could. The sight of some of the worry leaving Lyra’s face gave me the resolve to follow them. With each step I took a piece of my heart stuck to the cold, dead pavement of Canterlot.
Something changed that day. I don’t know why I was such a fool all this time. I loved Lyra Heartstrings. So much that I took it for granted. Living with her, spending time with her and the orchestra. It was… enough for me. It all seemed so shallow.
Lyra Heartstrings loved Bon-bon. That tiny piece of information worked its way into my brain like a thorn and once lodged inside, spread its poison throughout my entire body. We went home that night. I told them I needed to go get my Cello from the shop and gave them some privacy. I even winked at them. By the time I finally arrived at the shop, the old mare running it was about to close up. She returned my instrument and I have to say, it did look good as new.
‘You know, I can fix instruments, but sometimes it’s our souls that could use some tender, love and care.’
I blinked and looked up after realising the old lady had spoken. ‘Wha-‘ I was interrupted by my own coughing. Damn this cold. Once it stopped, I tried again. ‘What do you mean?’
She simply smiled, wished me good night and left. I could practically hear her joints rattle as she walked down the street, leaving me with my instrument standing alone on the street. After a while, I sighed and hoisted my instrument on my back. The touch of the wood against my coat was refreshing. I had been using the cover for far too long. I walked through the empty streets, past empty cafés and empty shops, coughing every other step.
Eventually I found myself in the park, not even remembering what empty corners I turned to end up there. My automatism playing tricks on me, I ended up sitting on the bench I met Lyra at. I even tried to imitate her weird way of sitting that she always did.
‘I messed up, partner.’
I slumped on the bench and rested my forehead against the neck of my Cello.
‘I guess I’m stupid like that.’
I turned my Cello around and held the bow against the strings. I let it glide over them, slow and low, producing a single note.
‘P-please… don’t cry…’
Motes of moisture fell on the newly restored wooden body as one sad note followed another, cascading through the empty park.
The following morning I went to Lyra’s place and found her nuzzling Bon-bon at her fireplace. She asked me where I had been that night, I didn’t know what to answer, so I told her I’d be out playing my cello all day and left to do just that. But my Cello’s compassion was my downfall. The only music it produced was down heartening melodies. After a café owner asked me to leave because I was depressing his customers, I quickly found myself sitting on a sidewalk, leaning my head against the neck of my Cello.
‘I thought it was you.’
I looked up and found two tiny sparkly eyes looking back from underneath huge eyebrows. I wondered how a stallion his size could have sneaked up on me.
‘Mind if I sit down, Colt?’
I shook my head, thinking what kind of mad pony you’d have to be to tell Foxtrot no. He sat down next to me with surprising agility that made me realise how strange it was to see the huge stallion outside of the context of the concert hall. We sat there side to side for a little while. I coughed.
‘I heard you play, what’s wrong?’
My head slid down the neck of my Cello a little as I pondered what to tell Foxtrot. Would it even matter? I swallowed and opened my mouth.
‘You met Bon-bon, didn’t you?’ Foxtrot asked before I could speak. I stared at him. This made him laugh. ‘Don’t act so surprised, Colt. I knew she was coming to Canterlot, I just didn’t know what effect it would have on you.’
‘What do you mean? Why would it-‘
‘Because you love Lyra,’ Foxtrot said. Once more, all I could do was stare at the stallion. ‘Come now, Colt. I’ve known from the first moment you stepped into the concert hall with her. It wasn’t just the kind of pony you are that drove you to follow her that day.’
I coughed through a couple of tears as I grabbed my Cello and clutched it tightly. The strings would surely leave marks on my forehead, but I didn’t care. ‘W-why…’ I sputtered through my sobs.
‘Why I didn’t tell you?’ Foxtrot asked. ‘Would you have wanted me to?’
I thought about that. Foxtrot was right. I wouldn’t have wanted to know. I still don’t. I’d give anything not to know. But I did. I broke down completely. On that sidewalk I cried and wept and bawled at Lyra Hearstrings until I had nothing left inside of me and sat there as a broken mess. Foxtrot sat patiently next to me, holding a hoof to my shoulder.
‘What do I do now?’ I asked eventually, trying to wipe away my tears with a hoof just as wet as my face.
‘You pick yourself up, Colt. You fell, no doubt about that, no shame in that. Long as you pick yourself up, assess the damage and move on. It’s all you can do.’
I nodded and tried to smile, but the scars of the smile I gave Lyra still burned on my cheeks. Foxtrot nodded compassionately and handed me a handkerchief which I graciously used to dry my face.
‘And next Saturday, you play,’ Foxtrot said, getting up. This visibly took him more effort than sitting down. ‘The orchestra goes on. Life goes on. That’s the truth of it, Colt.’
After Foxtrot got up, I followed suit. Even though I just cried like a little filly in the street, I felt better, if only slightly. ‘Thank you, Fox.’
That evening I arrived at Lyra’s place and all the courage I had worked up melted and seeped away. But I refused to repeat the day before, so I stepped inside. Lyra was angry with me. Understandable. I didn’t come home all night and then left again without explaining anything. She was just worried, entirely justified.
Yet it was all I could do not to curl up into a ball and cry as she told me how worried she was.
‘I’m sorry…’ I muttered.
‘Please Colt, just tell me what’s wrong,’ Lyra asked, pleaded.
I clenched my eyes shut as a tear fell to the floor. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said again, and went to my room. I was sorry, I really was. Sorry for being an idiot, for not seeing the things the way they were, for taking her for granted. I was sorry for loving Lyra Heartstrings.
I focussed on Saturday and the performance. I tried not to think about anything else because it hurt too much. The smiles I gave Lyra when I told her I was fine came easier now. My cheeks became used to the abuse. It actually seemed to work. All I had to do was focus on my music.
The day of the performance came, and Lyra helped me get dressed. Bon-bon watched and chuckled, and I felt incredibly sheepish as Lyra put on my bow-tie with a smile.
Lyra and Bon-bon left before me. I needed some more time to collect my thoughts. Lyra gave me a look that said she didn’t understand, but respected my decision. I didn’t mind that she didn’t understand. It was probably for the best. Heck, I don’t think I understood it myself. It was as Foxtrot had said, I had fallen.
‘Time to get back up, buddy,’ I said as I hoisted my Cello on my fancily dressed back. For the first time since I joined the orchestra, I walked the distance from Lyra’s to the concert hall alone. I took my time, knowing I could afford to. It gave me time to think.
So maybe Lyra could never love me, life goes on. It sucks, but it just does. The fall will leave its marks on me, but I can get back up. I still have my friends, my music. I just have to focus on the things that matter. It’ll hurt, but that’s life.
I almost instinctively walked down the alley when I came up to it, before remembering Foxtrot arranged for us to play in one of the concert halls. Carefully, I turned away from the alley and walked up the front entrance of the building. It was a nice building, clearly designed to attract the crowds. The bottom floor was walled off almost entirely by tall windows, allowing me to peek inside the large lobby. Only a few ponies were inside, so I looked at the large posters pasted on the glass promoting various concerts and plays. A rather crude note next to the door mentioned “Junior Orchestra Tryouts”.
After a cough, I pushed against the door and stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was how nice the carpet felt against my hooves. I had little time to appreciate this, though, as an immense figure waves its hoof at me from across the lobby. I stepped forward and glanced at the security ponies to see if they’d stop me. When they didn’t, I trotted over the Foxtrot.
‘Good to see you, Colt,’ he said warmly. ‘Follow me, the backstage area is notoriously difficult to navigate. You wouldn’t be the first musician to miss their own performance because they got lost down there.’
I nodded and followed Foxtrot through a door that said “Staff only”, which made me slightly nervous. The backstage area of the concert hall was a maze of hallways, twists and turns that were littered with doors. I didn’t even want to think about the full complexity of the building, were one to actually open those doors. Foxtrot kept a steady, confident pace, walking through the maze with a tried certainty, and I followed quietly. Eventually he paused at a door that was labelled “West Hall, performer’s entry”, and looked at me.
‘Are you ready, Colt?’
I adjusted the Cello and on my back and took a deep breath. ‘I think so,’ I told him.
Foxtrot smiled and pushed open the door. Beyond it waited Morin Trotivari, Marble Mason, Brass Whistle, Eloquence, Octavia and Lyra Heartstrings. I nodded at them and stepped inside.
‘Excellent, we’re all here,’ Foxtrot said, clapping his hooves together. ‘How is everypony doing? Nervous?’
He was met with slight nods. ‘Understandable,’ he continued. ‘When you step on this stage, the curtains will open, and you will play. That is all that matters. Don’t worry about anything else, I know you can do it. Now, fine-tune your instruments and prepare. You begin in fifteen minutes.’
We nodded and Foxtrot left to arrange the seating for the ponies that would asses us. We did as we were told and tuned our instruments. I stood next to Octavia as we searched for a tuning both of our cellos agreed with. When we found it, we played some melodies from the piece we were about to perform, and I let out a deep breath.
‘Are you okay, Colt?’ Octavia surprised me with the question. I coughed before answering.
‘Yeah, why?’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘You’re a good musician, Colt. But you let your emotions into your work. Control them, practise playing formally, or make sure your emotions match the piece.’ She closed her eyes and let her bow glide across her strings. Then she opened one eye again and looked at me. ‘Don’t mess this up.’
I swallowed and looked at Lyra, sitting next to Eloquence as their hooves plucked at their instruments. Suddenly, sharp, ugly notes filled the air. Shocked, I dropped my bow. My hoof had started shaking as I had it rested on my strings. The rest of the orchestra looked my way now. I quickly picked up my bow and scratched my ear.
‘Sorry… heh… nervous, I guess.’
Octavia said nothing as we continued to practise. When Foxtrot returned, we were as ready as we’d ever be. He led us onto the stage and told us where to stand to compliment the acoustics. Faith would have it Octavia and I stood to either side of the stage, which meant I was next to Lyra. She gave me a careful smile, and I fought down a coughing fit. That was the last thing we needed. I tried to smile back, but all I could manage was a nod.
Then the curtains parted ways, and I swallowed and pushed everything that wasn’t music out of my mind. My breath got stuck in my throat as the curtains continued to reveal filled seats. Foxtrot told us he knew some ponies, but it looked like half the city was here and brought their families.
I exchanged looks with the rest of the group, and found they didn’t expect such a big turnout either. I shook my head. It didn’t matter. Whether it’s for five or five hundred ponies, we needed to play. So we did. Marble played the intro flawlessly on his piano, and soon he was joined by Eloquence and then Lyra. I glanced over at Octavia when our section came up, but she had her eyes closed. I did the same as I let my bow glide across the strings. Morin came in next, and we played.
We played and we played as we so often had done. Things didn’t have to change, we would just play in front of a crowd. I could do that. Things would be okay and Lyra-
My cello screamed as my bow slipped from my hooves. I opened my eyes and found dozens of ponies staring at me. I froze momentarily when I spotted Bon-bon in the crowd as well. I started sweating as I quickly picked up my bow again. To the other’s credit, they didn’t drop a single note throughout the entire ordeal. I joined in again, but I couldn’t block out the stares anymore. Even when I closed my eyes I could feel them there. I played with my jaws clenched shut until the end of the performance.
When the curtains closed again, there was a modest applause. Most of the ponies were already talking amongst themselves, no doubt already trying to make a decision. As soon as the curtains closed completely, I let my breath go and rested my head on my cello, heavily panting.
‘You did good, Colt,’ Lyra said with a smile.
‘I messed up,’ I returned miserably.
‘No you didn’t. You were just nervous, they can’t expect you to play perfectly all the time. And you picked yourself up again, didn’t you?’
I almost snorted at her choice of words. Instead, I coughed and hoisted my cello on my back.
‘What do you think, Morin?’ Marble asked.
‘It went well. I didn’t expect a flawless performance, so it went better than I expected. But it’s not for me to decide.’
‘Man… now we have to wait for these guys to make up their mind, huh?’ Brass chimed in, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof. ‘I think I’m more nervous now than I was about the performance.’
‘No way, guys! We nailed it. They’d be crazy to say no,’ Lyra said. I kept my distance as they talked about the performance and the future as we waited for Foxtrot to return with an answer. Octavia walked up to me and I struggled not to avert my eyes.
‘Get it under control,’ Octavia said. ‘You’re lucky we practised so much and you were able to recover.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, hanging my head.
‘Alright,’ she returned. I looked up again, my eyebrow raised.
‘What?’
‘You’re sorry. If you’re willing to work on it I’m not going to hold it against you. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against you, I’m just telling you what you need to do to improve your performance.’
Before I could formulate a response, Foxtrot entered the room. We all looked at him expectantly, but he hung his head. When he met our looks, he just shook his head.
‘What did they say?’ Morin asked desperately. Foxtrot scanned around the room, pausing when he met my eyes. ‘Come on, Fox, what did they say? You can tell us why they rejected us.’
Foxtrot let out a long breath. ‘They said yes.’
We looked at him in confusion. Lyra was the first to say what was on our minds. ‘So why aren’t you happy?’
‘They gave us a condition,’ Foxtrot said. ‘They will agree to make the Junior Orchestra an official part of the Royal Canterlot Concert Hall’s line-up, but not with Colt.’
A silence fell over the room. It felt like I had been stabbed with a dagger of ice. I messed up, they didn’t want me. I was dragging the group down.
‘Fine,’ Lyra said suddenly, and everypony looked at her with wide eyes. ‘If that’s what it takes to become official, I don’t want to be.’ She looked at me compassionately. ‘I care more about you than some stupid prefix to our orchestra. Does anypony disagree with me?’
‘They’ll get all of us or none of us,’ Brass said, nodding.
‘I wouldn’t want to lose a friend to play my instrument… That’d be terrible,’ Eloquence whispered to the floor panels.
‘What Brass said. We’ve come too far together to split up now,’ Marble pitched in.
‘It’s an opportunity that will come again,’ Morin said, adjusting his glasses. ‘Next time, we’ll be ready.’
‘You guys…’ I stammered, quite overwhelmed. My hoof trembled as I wiped away some tears.
‘This was just something to try,’ Lyra said, putting a hoof on my shoulder. ‘We were having so much fun as just the junior Orchestra, we don’t need to be official. I don’t want things to change.’
Oh, Lyra. They already changed. No, they were simply never the way I thought they were, and I only just realised that. The part I thought I had in the group doesn’t exist. Slowly, I got up, Lyra’s hoof still on my shoulder. With resolve, I looked at Foxtrot.
‘Fox… tell the Orchestra ponies they’ll do it.’
‘What?! No! Colt! You can’t-‘
I put a hoof to Lyra’s lips and slowly shook my head. ‘It’s been fun, guys, but I can’t drag you down on this. You worked too hard to get there for me to ruin it. And as much as I loved every moment I spent with you guys, it’s time I moved on.’
I had to lean on Lyra as I had another coughing fit, and almost chuckled at how pathetic I must have looked. The perpetual cold simply underlined what I had said.
‘No!’ Lyra said, sobbing. ‘W-we won’t! We won’t let you do this! We’ll still say no!’
‘Please don’t make this harder than it has to be, Lyra. Let me do this for you. Let me go.’
‘Colt… I can’t… I won’t…’
‘Let him go,’ Octavia said. Lyra looked at her hopelessly, and it grinded the broken fragments of my heart into even smaller pieces. ‘He made up his mind. Don’t make him doubt his resolve. Respect and support his decision.’
I nodded at her. ‘Thank you,’ I said, and she returned the nod. I took a deep breath. ‘Fox.’
Everypony looked at the old stallion as his sparkly eyes stared at me. His thick brushy eyebrows formed a frown as he seemed to think about it. I practically begged him with my eyes not to make me change my mind on this. Eventually, he closed his eyes and nodded. ‘I will tell them.’
And that’s how I left the now Official Junior Canterlot Orchestra. It… hurt. It really, really hurt. But not enough to make me think it wasn’t the right thing to do. Morin said it the first time we met. I’m a street performer, and on the street is where I belong. Not in a concert hall donned in uncomfortable clothes, and not living with Lyra Heartstrings in her apartment. The group offered to throw me a farewell party, but I just told them to turn it into a celebration on becoming official.
I made my decision, and I couldn’t stay in Canterlot anymore. I couldn’t walk those streets littered with pieces of my broken heart. I needed to start over. I had bought my cello on the fly, I went to Canterlot on a whim, and I was simply moving on yet again. Lingering wasn’t in my blood.
If only it had been that simple.
‘Why, Colt? Why do you have to leave?’ Lyra sobbed as I packed my things. I didn’t own many things, but it was still taking me forever to pack them. Lyra wiped away some tears as I zipped up the small briefcase that contained everything I owned besides my cello. ‘I-I don’t understand…’
‘No, no you don’t,’ I said. ‘You didn’t understand why I couldn’t move in with you when we first met. You didn’t understand why I needed time before the audition. But you respected those things. You accepted them. Why can’t you do that now? Please, Lyra.’
‘I don’t want you to go! How can I just accept I’m losing a friend! Just tell me why!’
I almost wanted to laugh. ‘That’s just it,’ I told her. ‘I’m your friend, and I always will be.’
‘So stay! I don’t get why that’s a bad thing!’
‘Because I love you, Lyra.’
The silence that followed was almost unbearable. I shocked myself as well. I wanted to say “loved”, but I realized I never did stop loving that mare. I looked into her eyes, those tear-filled beautiful things, and saw she finally understood. She understood how every moment we spent together, I loved her and she did not love me back.
We did not say another word to each other, Lyra simply sobbed silently. I hoisted my cello on my back along with my briefcase, and left. I left the room, the apartment, the city and her life. I took the first train to wherever, and cried the whole way there.
Wherever turned out to be Hoofington. A city built on earth pony labour. A hard city, one that doesn’t take kindly to broken stallions. I learned all this from one such broken stallion on the train station. He took a good look at my cello and an even better look at my face that clearly showed I’d been crying.
‘That instrument, you play?’ He asked in a harsh voice. I nodded. ‘I sure hope you don’t plan on making a living out of it.’
I raised an eyebrow at that. ‘That there look tells me that was exactly your plan. Let me give you some advice, colt. You turn around, you get on that train, and you go back to where you came from before this city chews you up.’
I don’t know why, but the fact he called me colt made me defiant. Why would I listen to this old stallion I didn’t know? So I trotted past him. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you!’ he yelled after me before I stepped into the streets. I looked around and noticed how different it was from Canterlot, a city constructed primarily by unicorns. Everything in Hoofington served a function, leaving no room for aesthetics.
I missed Canterlot, but I couldn’t go back. So I did what I always did. I played. I played on every corner of every street I could find. My earnings? Looks of disdain and warnings from the authority to get a permit or leg it. I opted for the latter. When the evening fell, I hadn’t earned any money. My attempts to find a park to sleep in ended in the conclusion Hoofington had no room for nature, and I was forced to curl up on a bench in the streets.
I was cold, lonely and miserable. I was also determined. The old stallion at the station had lit a fire in me. I would not let Hoofington break me. I could adapt.
The following week, I did what the city wanted of me. I found a job in a kitchen somewhere, and rented a single room apartment with the bits I made in Canterlot. I could live in this city, and I would prove it. The work in the kitchen was difficult. It was just cleaning dishes, but the rate would be so irregular and the manager always found a reason to yell at me. But I didn’t let it get to me. Hoofington would not break me.
When I got home after work, I usually laid down on my bed. That was a generous term for the matrass placed on some planks. My apartment took 4 steps to cross in one direction, and if you fell over you’d have crossed it in the other. It didn’t matter. All it contained was me and my cello. I tried to play it from time to time, but found it painful. Every time I closed my eyes to focus I saw Lyra’s smile. And sometimes I saw her tears.
So I didn’t play the cello that often anymore. I usually just worked to pay for my one room apartment. Sometimes I’d have enough left over to get a slightly fancier meal than normal. I lived like that for… have I ever lived any other way? I kept my determination, thought. Hoofington would not break me.
Weeks blurred into months and seasons went and came. The only thing persistent was my cough. My one souvenir from Canterlot. My job became tolerable, even though my boss never stopped yelling at me. I came to accept that as part of him.
See? I showed them. I could live in Hoofington. This city wouldn’t break me.
I met ponies in the city. Some of them I could even call friends. I also learned that there existed an incredible bias against “my kind”. That being aimed at my cutie mark and special talent. Being a musician in this city meant representing everything but the earth pony spirit upon which it was built. It got me in trouble and it started some interesting conversations, so I grew used to it.
One thing I still couldn’t get myself to do was tell ponies my name. It just felt… like I would betray my old life in Canterlot if I told ponies in Hoofington. So before long, I became known as Colt once more. I also responded to Dude, the occasional Hey you over there and once even Barkeep. Don’t ask me how that happened. I built a life for myself. Hoofington did not break me, or so I told myself.
One day, while I was at work, my boss came in. The large sweaty stallion beckoned me to follow him, and I did so, knowing he’d yell if I didn’t listen.
‘Someone’s asking for you. He said Colt, and you’re the only one I thought he could mean by that. He’s waiting outside.’
I stared at him for a few moments.
‘Go on, are you deaf? He’s out front.’
I decided meeting this customer was more important than finishing my work, so I quickly hurried outside. My jaw quite simply dropped when I spotted the last pony I expected to see.
‘Colt,’ he addressed me, nodding his head.
‘Foxtrot,’ I returned. I looked at him in amazement. His coat had shed most of the brown, now being mostly grey. His mane had fallen out almost entirely. His eyebrows, however, were as large and brushy as ever. He looked so… old. When was the last time I’ve seen him?
‘It’s been a while,’ he said, sitting down on the sidewalk. A few passers-by stared at him, but he didn’t care. ‘I don’t think I can call you Colt anymore.’
I sat down next to him. ‘I… How long has it been? You look so much older than I remember.’ I told him. He looked at me in shock.
‘Colt, you left five years ago.’
I dropped the cloth I was holding in my hooves. ‘Five…?’ I stammered. It felt like a few months at most. I rested my head on my hooves. The weeks were so similar; I couldn’t tell if something happened last week or the week before that, or a year ago, apparently. I began to laugh. I didn’t know why, but it was all so funny to me. ‘Hoofington will not break me,’ I said with a cracking voice. ‘What an idiot I’ve been…’
Foxtrot placed a hoof on my shoulder.
‘I came to invite you, Colt. We’re going to put up the biggest performance so far, graduating from Junior Orchestra,’ he said. ‘And after this, I’m going to retire. It would mean a lot to all of us if you could attend.’
He handed me a flyer detailing the event. I sat there, holding the paper with one hoof and the other hoof in my mane. I caught myself just staring blankly at the paper, not able to read any of the words. Then I realised this was because I was crying. My shoulders shook as the tears began to drip on the flyer.
‘You were right, Fox,’ I said to the old stallion, trying as hard as I could not to break down. ‘I fell. But I didn’t get back up. I struggled and slipped. I cracked, I broke. And then Hoofington ground my shards into dust.’ Any worry I had about breaking down didn’t matter as for the second time in my life, I sobbed uncontrollably on the street sitting next to the huge stallion. ‘I don’t even know who I am anymore Fox.’
He didn’t say anything, but gave me compassionate look. After the sobbing calmed down somewhat, I wiped away my tears and picked up the flyer with a sigh. ‘I’ll be there, Fox. Hoofington isn’t my kind of town anyway.’ I gave him a soft smile.
‘The performance is this Friday,’ he told me. ‘I tried to tell you earlier, but you’ve proven a difficult pony to get hold of.’
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I laughed. We got up, and after an exchange of best wishes, went our separate ways. Immediately, I went inside and told my boss I quit. He yelled at me, as I knew he would. With that taken care of, I went to my apartment and started packing. About a minute later, I finished packing, and I sat on my glorified mattress looking at my cello. Five years. It had been five years I last played it. I couldn’t even remember how to hold the bow. My ear twitched as it began to itch. I smiled, knowing it was an itch I could no longer scratch. Before I left the apartment, I wrote a note.
I left it there, with my cello. I lost the ability to play it, carrying it around would just be a ridiculous sentiment. I shook my head once more. Hoofington had broken me, and I hadn’t even realised it. Five years is a long time not to love anything. Not just Lyra. I used to love the snow, my scarf, my cello, the coffee place that always gave me a free sugarcube. There was nothing for me to love in Hooftington, and I feared it made my unable to love anything again.
When I arrived at the station, I bought a ticket to the first train to Canterlot. The concert wasn’t for another 2 days, but I saw no point in staying in Hoofington a minute longer. As I waited for the train, I suddenly heard a voice behind me.
‘Told ya.’
I looked around to find the broken stallion that had been the first to welcome me into Hoofington. He simply grinned and hobbled off before I could say anything, his rear legs hardly moving. For some reason I also found this incredibly funny. He had been right, yet it was his words that triggered the stubborn defiance in me.
Ten minutes later the train rolled into the station and left again with me on board, headed for our bustling capital of Canterlot. I can’t say I wasn’t nervous. I spent the last five years telling myself Hoofington wouldn’t break me like some sort of mantra. Would I be able to simply go back?
Of course not. I couldn’t ever go back, not really. I was a broken stallion. Battered and damaged irreversibly. I could only hope I could see the concert before I fell apart completely. When I stepped onto the station, I could virtually see a younger me step onto the same stone with a smile on his face and a cello on his back.
I wandered around the city I spent a year of my life in, taking solace in the fact familiar faces didn’t recognize me. I guess they never did see me without a cello on my back. Thanks to this, I was able to spend the two days leading up the concert in relative anonymity, using what little money my pay was above my rent to buy food. I had considered to get a hotel room, but found myself at the park bench I met Lyra Heartstring at.
They were the two best nights of sleep I had in five years.
The day of the concert arrived, and it dawned on me I didn’t have a ticket. I found myself standing in front of the concert hall early in the afternoon, staring at the huge poster promoting the concert to take place that night.
‘Colt…? Is that… you?’
I looked up and found a familiar face.
‘Hey Eloquence,’ I said rather lamely.
Before I knew it, I was being hugged. Quite surprised, I didn’t know what to say as she let me go again.
‘Oh… Sorry about that,’ Eloquence said apologetic.
‘No, not at all. Just… a bit unexpected from you,’ I said.
‘Are you here to see us play tonight?’
‘Well… I want to, but I don’t have a ticket,’ I told her with a shrug.
‘Oh! Hold on,’ she said before disappearing into the building with a flap of her wings. I don’t know why, but she seemed so… different. Then it hit me. She actually looked me in the eyes. I couldn’t help but smile. I guess a lot changed in five years. Eloquence appeared again, with a small paper in her mouth. She happily handed it to me.
‘Elo… you didn’t have to-‘
‘Nonsense! It’s the least I could do. Uhm... I mean, you left so suddenly and we were all so worried. It’s good to see you’re back.’ She smiled at me. I couldn’t do much besides accept the ticket and smile back. With the ticket taken care of, I had nothing to do but wait for the concert to start, and that wouldn’t be until later that night.
So I took a stroll around the neighbourhood. I don’t know why, but I ended up in front of Lyra’s apartment. I didn’t even know if she still lived there. Then an elderly mare exited the building, and I decided to check.
‘Excuse me?’
She looked up. ‘Yes, dear?’
‘Uhm… does Lyra Heartstrings still live in this building?’
The mare gave that some thought. And some more. Until I began to suspect she forgot what she was supposed to remember. Then her face lit up. ‘Oh Lyra, that little rascal. Yes, she lives here alright. Do you know her, dear?’
I smiled at the old lady. ‘I used to,’ I said. With that, the lady excused herself and left me alone standing in front of the building I called my home for a year. To imagine that after all this time, I still loved her.
Before I knew it, evening arrived, and I hurried back to the concert hall. I had hoped to be ahead of the crowd, but I lingered too long at Lyra’s place, and the line was already considerably long. What amazed me the most wasn’t the length of the line, though, but the ponies in it. Ponies with fancy clothing and expensive perfume. I must have been the only one there not wearing anything, and it earned me some looks.
My fears were confirmed when the doorpony told me there was a dress code and they wanted to deny me access. Then I spotted a certain grey mare inside.
‘Octavia!’ I called out. The crowd gasped at me daring to address one of the ponies they came to see perform. Octavia looked at me, and her look was the same one of professional indifference that I remembered from five years ago. For a moment, I feared she would simply move on and ignore me.
‘Let him in, he’s a friend.’
Murmurs went through the crowd. How could a pony like Octavia possible want to associate with someone like me? I opted not to stick out my tongue at the doorpony as I went inside. ‘Thank you,’ I told Octavia.
‘It’s been a while,’ she said. ‘How have you been?’
I thought about that. I didn’t even know. ‘Fine,’ I told her. ‘You?’
I thought I could see a sadness in her eyes, but then it was gone. ‘Fine,’ she returned. ‘I must be going now. It’s pleasant to see you again, Colt.’
I nodded at her, and she left to go through the door that said “Staff Only” that I remember going through myself so long ago. The time until the performance was rather awkward. The ponies saw me talk to Octavia, but they also looked at me as if I was some sort of strange animal that invaded their territory. I decided not to talk to anypony. I wasn’t there for small talk, I was there to see the performance.
My ticket was for a seat three rows from the front, and I silently thanked Eloquence for it once again. As the crowd began to shuffle towards the concert hall, I fell in line. The prospect of finding their seats distracted the fancy ponies from how out-of-place I was, it seemed, and I managed to make it to my seat without any stares.
The immense crowd whispered in the darkness as they waited for the curtains to part, and I imagined the ponies standing behind those curtains waiting to play. I started fidgeting with my hooves and my ear began to itch again. I was as nervous to watch the performance as I was to play during the audition. Only now I didn’t have a bow to drop.
The crowd was instantly silenced when the lights in the hall itself dimmed to be replaced by spotlights aimed at the stage. The curtains parted, the crowd applauded and my heartbeat skyrocketed as one by one, my old friends appeared. Eloquence looked so confident on stage now. The long hair she used to hide behind was now tied behind her head and she smiled at the crowd.
Brass Whistle really matured since I last saw her. However, she still showed that grin that I had come to associate with her. She was waving at the crowd with one hoof, her trumpet in the other. Next to her, Marble Mason sat at the biggest piano I had ever seen. Marble himself was the epitome of composure, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea he had taken after Octavia.
Octavia herself had her eyes closed and her hooves folded as she sat on her stool, a sleek cello leaning against her. Morin, on the other hoof, seemed ecstatic to finally have the crowd he always wanted. He kept bowing and waving both hooves, his violin leaning against his hind legs. He was finally living up to his family name, and the crowd loved him.
And then there was Lyra Heartstrings. I didn’t know what I expected. She was sitting on her stool, holding her lyre in her magic, smiling and waving at the audience. She matured, no doubt about that, but in a way it was noteworthy how little she had changed. She was still the Lyra Heartstrings I knew. I let out a sigh. The Lyra Heartstrings I loved.
Then the immense figure of Foxtrot stepped on stage. The crowd fell silent again as he took place at the centre of the stage and cleared his throat. He was really becoming an old stallion.
‘As you all know, this will be last performance of the Junior Equestrian Orchestra. Tonight, these wonderful young minds will graduate from that prefix. As not all of you will know, this also marks the night of my retirement. For the past five years, I have guided them and watched them mature. It’s about time I hand them to the world.’
He paused and a part of the crowd already wanted to applaud, but Foxtrot continued. ‘And as I’m certain only one of you will know, there is a very special pony in the audience today. A pony that, had things gone slightly differently, could have stood here with us on the stage today.’
Lyra’s ears perked up and she got off her stool to scan the crowd, shielding her eyes from the bright light with a hoof. I lowered myself in my seat, but I doubt she could have spotted me anyway.
‘I want to take this time to thank this pony, because he sacrificed himself to make this orchestra possible. I want to apologize to this pony, because I let him. But most of all, I want to say to this pony that we did not perform a single time without thinking about him. Colt, best of luck to you.’
With that, he left the stage, and the crowd finally got their chance to applaud. Lyra was still scanning the crowd, and everypony else was looking at each other, whispering, or looking at the crowd. Except Octavia, who still had her eyes closed. They did not spot me.
Eventually, they had to stop looking for me and perform. I was worried that, knowing I was in the crowd, they’d be nervous, but then I would be forgetting what five years of professional performance does to you. They slipped into what seemed like a trance as soon as the first note was played.
Morin led, which was undoubtedly his idea. The others fell in one by one, until they produced a harmony that moved me. It was painfully beautiful to listen to, more so knowing I no longer had a place in that harmony. In my head, I could almost hear what this piece would require me to play on my cello. I moved my hooves, but it was useless. Even if I still had my cello, Hoofington took my ability to play it.
I soon became aware of the fact that I was crying. The agonizing beauty of the performance lasted for an eternity, and ended much too soon. They got a standing ovation, and they deserved it. The level they played at was miles and miles above what we could do when I was still part of the orchestra. As I stood up to join in the thundering applause, something unexpected happened.
The spotlights were suddenly joined by ones aimed at the crowd. For a moment, I was blinded and shielded my eyes with a hoof. When I lowered it again, Lyra was looking straight at me. It was like time stopped. I didn’t hear the cheers or the hooves impacting each other from the ponies around me. Her eyes had an almost unbearable honesty in them. She was just happy to see me.
I almost fell flat on my face as I hurried out of my seat. I couldn’t bear to look at the stage, the standing ovation was still going strong when I pushed open the door and left the concert hall.
I didn’t know where I was headed, and somehow ended up in the maze of hallways that was so infamous. I couldn’t even remember going through a “Staff Only” door. I simply slumped down against a wall. I was breaking apart, I could feel it. The concert shook me and the fine cracks running though me were rapidly expanding.
I slowly heaved myself on my hooves again, before falling down with another coughing fit. I cursed my lungs. I couldn’t fall apart here, not now. I just had to hold on a little longer. I dragged my useless body through the labyrinth, not knowing what turns to take. I don’t know how long I was in there. I imagined it was at least an hour. The concert was long over, the group was probably out in some bar celebrating, and they earned it.
Finally, I pushed open a final door. A strong gust of wind blew in my face and tugged at my mane and tail. It was cold, incredibly so. Yet I hardly felt anything as I stepped onto the roof of the concert hall. I coughed loudly, but the wind swept away the sound before it could even reach my ears. I could use my scarf. I chuckled at that idea as I slowly walked towards the edge of the building.
Canterlot was a beautiful city. From the top of the concert hall, I could see the lower districts to the south, and the majestic royal castle to the north. The streets, so far below me, were almost empty. It must have been far past midnight. I sighed.
I’ve been such an idiot. Every time I thought I picked myself up, I only found a deeper hole to fall into. Now, I’m not sure there’s enough of me left to repair. I closed my eyes and filled my rotten lungs with the icy Canterlot air. A subtle cold touch on my muzzle made me slowly open a single eye. Huh… I open the other one and crossed them to watch the snowflake on my nose. It was swept away in the wind and a faint memory forced my eyes to follow it. Then I spotted her. Her black mane was the wind’s plaything, and her bowtie desperately held onto her neck in order not to be blown away.
‘O-Octavia?’ I whispered. Whether she heard me or not, she slowly opened her eyes to look my way. She looked so tired, so… done. I stepped backwards, but Octavia didn’t move from her spot at the edge of the roof. ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, louder this time to make myself audible over the wind. She looked down at the street before motioning towards me with her head.
‘Same as you, I suppose.’
I thought about that for a moment, before I understood what she meant. ‘Oh,’ I returned. My ear began to itch and I really wish I at least brought my bow from Hoofington. ‘Uhm… mind if I have a seat?’ I asked. Octavia chortled mirthlessly.
‘Don’t think it matters now. Be my guest,’ she said, laying down herself, one foreleg almost dangling over the edge of the roof. I lay down next to her, and together we looked out over the city as more and more snowflakes fell from the sky.
‘Can’t believe it has to snow on a night like this,’ Octavia said eventually. I said nothing. ‘Nevermind,’ she said, laying her head between her hooves. We lay there for some more time, and we begin to get covered in snow.
‘Why?’ I asked her after Celestia-knows how long. Octavia shot me a look of anger.
‘Really? You’re going to ask that now?’
I coughed in between my following chuckles. ‘Not much else left to ask at this point.’
She kept glaring at me, until looking away with a sigh. ‘I suppose you’re right.’ She shook some snow out of her mane, and I did the same. ‘I take it you’re familiar with masks,’ she asked. I blinked once and raised an eyebrow.
‘Masks? The things you put on to scare ponies?’
‘The things we put on to fool ponies,’ she corrected, entirely serious, so I kept quiet. ‘Fooling them into believing we’re someone we’re not. Fooling them into believing we’re smiling. Fooling them into believing we are anything other than ourselves.’
I slowly nodded, and she went on. ‘I told you I don’t remember a life without a cello. But I’m not a cellist. It’s a mask. My parents made my wear it my entire life. At my birth they decided I was to be their little protégé, and put on the mask. And I’ve worn it, gracefully, sometimes even happily. I’ve even worn it thankfully.’
She fell silent, and a few tears began to form in her eyes. She didn’t bother fighting them or hiding them, she simply let them slow before they froze. Crying openly, she looked me in the eyes. ‘Tonight, after the performance, I did something I’ve been too scared to do my whole life. I took it off. And I looked in the mirror… and I saw nothing. There’s nothing underneath the mask, Colt. There is no me, no Octavia. Just my parent’s precious little protégé. I can’t go back now, I can’t put the mask back on, knowing what’s underneath.’
I lay silently as she sobbed, and I didn’t understand. How could I understand something so personal and desperate? But as much as I couldn’t possibly understand, I accepted it, and put a hoof on her shoulder as she cried. Eventually, she wiped away her tears and looked at me.
‘What about you?’
I thought about her question for a while, the wind tugging at our manes and blowing snow in our faces. I sighed and rested my head on the side of the building, looking down at the street. ‘I fell. And instead of getting up, I fell again. And again. I’ve fallen so many times there’s not enough left to get back up again.’
‘You loved her, didn’t you?’
The question surprised me, and I looked Octavia in the eyes. She had a hint of a smile on her face, and I didn’t bother denying it. Instead, I rested my head again and softly corrected, ‘Love.’
Octavia sighed. ‘I think she was the only pony in Canterlot who didn’t know. I used to think she was playing with you, that she had to know. But she’s too honest for that.’
‘You think?’ I asked, not knowing why I was interested.
‘Colt, please, you may have forgotten I’ve now known her five years longer than you.’
I frowned at that, realizing that I indeed forgot that. The time I spent in Hoofington was a blur and didn’t register quite well in my subconscious.
‘She got married, did you know that?’ Octavia said, rather carefree. Once more, I looked up in surprise.
‘To Bon-Bon?’ I asked. Smiling, Octavia shook her head.
‘They broke up about a year after you left. On friendly terms, if you’re wondering. The distance put too much strain on their relationship. She married someone she met in the city. A stallion. Nopony you know. The marriage was four months ago, they tried to invite you.’
I laughed. I couldn’t help it, it was all too funny to me. I rolled over in the snowing, laughing until tears formed in my eyes. ‘Celestia above I’ve been such an idiot!’ I exclaimed, wiping the frozen tears away. Octavia smiled softly and made no move to object. ‘To think I’ve… I was actually angry at her. I’ve treated her horribly, haven’t I?’
‘I’ll not deny it,’ Octavia said, matter-of-factly. ‘You hurt her. For a while we all feared you broke her. But you know little miss Heartstrings, her smile always has a way of finding her face again. After you left, though, it took a very long time before she could smile genuinely again.’ Octavia smiled sadly and brushed some snow out of her mane. ‘The mask she put on fooled the others, but not me. It took her nine months to find her smile again. Her break-up with Bon-Bon was easier on her than your departure.’
I couldn’t help it, and blushing, I scratched my ear. ‘Geez… really? That bad huh?’
‘It helped that Bon-Bon didn’t suddenly leave one day unannounced.’
I turned an even deeper shade of red and half-tried to bury my head in snow. ‘I sure made a mess of things…’ I whispered. A silence fell over us, and the snowfall continued to bury us, the wind occasionally blowing the worst of the snow off our manes and coats. Eventually, I sighed. ‘I was so happy during that time… And I blew it.’
Slowly, Octavia got up, shaking off the snow. ‘Everything ends, Colt. That’s the nature of existence.’
I got up as well, and stood next to her, the streets of Canterlot far below us. The wind tugged and pulled at us, but we somehow weren’t scared. In fact, I felt invigorated. ‘Meek,’ I said, barely above a whisper, staring wide-eyed down at the street. Octavia looked at me in confusion. ‘It’s Meek,’ I said again. After a second, it clicked, and I saw she understood what I just told her.
‘Say, Octavia?’ I asked.
‘Yes?’ the reply came. I took her left hoof in my right and looked her straight in the eyes.
‘Will you love me?’
She laughed. A good-natured laugh, a warm one. ‘Sure,’ she said, tears welling up in her eyes. ‘Sure, why not? I’ll love you.’
‘Good,’ I said, and I pulled her closer to me, still holding her hoof with mine. ‘I’m tired of doing the unexpected,’ I said, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath of frosty air, Canterlot air. Air of the city I belonged in. I breathed in all my memories, my smiles and tears and joys and hurts, I made sure I didn’t miss a single bit of everything that made up the happiest time of my life. And I let it all out, exhaling. I opened my eyes and interlocked them with Octavia’s.
‘Let’s do something bold instead.’
To whoever finds this,
This cello taught me to love. But this city, it broke me, and I fear my heart has been ground to dust so many times it has lost the will to love anything. So I urge you, take it. Take this cello and do something unexpected. Let it love you so you may love it in return, because as long as you have something you love, this life is worth living.
Don’t worry, I won’t come back to reclaim it. I’m gone.
Best of luck.
~M.
