The loud buzz of an alarm clock pulled Vinyl from the world of dreams into the world of messy sheets and frazzled hair. She sat up slowly, yawning as she brushed a hoof across her mane and looked at the time: 7:31 am.

“Fuck...” she grumbled aloud. For the past week Vinyl had been getting up at what she could only consider an ungodly hour, but Mix assured her that this was 'When most normal ponies get up in the morning'. With the grace of a boulder, the DJ rolled herself out of bed and walked toward the bathroom. She tossed a halfhearted glance at herself in the mirror, catching sight of the hornets' nest that was currently her mane. A noise, half chuckle half sigh, escaped her lips as she turned to the shower and began to run the water. Once it was nice and hot, Vinyl shifted aside the curtains and stepped under the streaming water, soaking her body in the soothing warmth.

With the quiet thrum of her magic, the DJ grabbed a bottle of shampoo for her fur and a puffy green scrubber. She squirted the viscous liquid onto the scrubber and worked it into a lather before beginning. Once it was ready, Vinyl began to scrub at her fur in slow, circular motions. Using her magic, she worked the puffy mesh ball along her back and sides, cooing a little to herself as she scrubbed at the base of her tale. She raised her hind leg slightly to better reach along the bends and curves of her muscles, working the foamy scrubber against her fur. As she scrubbed along her inner thigh, she soon came to the sensitive region between her legs. The foamy mesh brushed against the edge of her lower lips, causing her to stop as she let out a small breath. Continuing to hold the scrubber only out of subconscious habit, Vinyl's mind switched focus as she began to slide a front hoof down along her stomach – her eyes fluttered slightly as her hoof found its way into her wet folds. She only had time to give herself a few gentle rubs before her eyes snapped open and she let out a snort of air. Ugh, I really don't have time for this, she muttered internally, reluctantly removing her hoof and placing it back on the shower floor.

The disgruntled and unsatisfied DJ finished showering as quickly as possible, heading straight to the kitchen after a swift towel dry. She hovered a couple slices of bread into her toaster as she reached out a hoof to open her fridge. Her eyes scanned across the mostly barren selves, eventually catching sight of a lone bottle of beer. A frown appeared on her face as she halfheartedly shut the door, trotting over to her coffee machine. As she begun arranging the necessary components for her coffee, her mind drifted towards work, attempting to keep her thoughts from the little things nagging her about this morning.

As Octavia did not record every day, Mix had Vinyl doing other work at the studio all week – and likely for the foreseeable future – to keep her income consistent, as well as an eye on her. She got stuck with a lot of minor technical issues and small tweaks all over the studio that were usually given out as small tasks across the entire staff. However, with how busy they were at this time, Vinyl was picking up the slack so that Mix could get more administrative and business work done. They could have gotten by without her, but having her made the entire operation smoother for the time being. She really did not mind the work, as it was something to keep herself busy with, and as long as she had coffee, she could even start work in the morning – she still bemoaned her fate for having to, but she always came into work ready.

Today, however, was a recording day, as she just so happily remembered. Vinyl had been eagerly awaiting the next recording day, convincing herself it was because it was far more entertaining than the usual grunt work, but she would be lying to herself if she was not looking forward to hearing Octavia play again. As she thought about this, she slowly found herself becoming fixated on the brewing of her coffee – the slow drizzle of the rich, dark liquid filling the pot had her completely transfixed. The sound of toast springing up from behind her roused the DJ from her daze. She gave her head a quick shake, letting out a sigh. What's up with me today? She pushed the thoughts away and focused on getting ready for the day. Vinyl wanted to have a good day, and did not plan on letting a few questionable thoughts or events ruin that for her.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Good morning, Vinyl.” The DJ was not surprised to see Octavia in the studio before her – she expected as much – but she was a little stunned by the warmth in the cellist's voice. Taking this as a good sign, Vinyl put on a smile and trotted happily into the room.

“Morning,” she replied casually. “What's on the schedule today?”

As Vinyl situated herself at the console, Octavia opened up a second case that the DJ had not noticed and removed a violin from it. “I had been previously uncertain as to whether or not I wanted to include any non-cello pieces on this album. However, I have now decided that the variety would bring more culture and appeal to the album.”

Turning around and giving her a hidden roll of her eyes, Vinyl spoke to Octavia in deadpan tone. “So, we're recording violin music today?” The cellist-also-violinist gave a small cough, clearing her throat before affirming the DJ's question with a yes and nod of her head.

“I was also thinking,” the grey mare said as she entered the booth, “that since we have the room booked for today, it would be rather unnecessary of me to return to my apartment to practice while you work on anything that needs touching up here.”

Vinyl thought about this, wondering if Octavia assumed there would be enough editing to allow her much time to practice. For her part, she believed that the cellist's music was in need of no real fixes, save for maybe a touch here and there, but Octavia was the client so Vinyl would do the work she was asked to. “Yeah, we can go over the tracks for you once you're done, and you can practice while I do whatever needs to get done.” Octavia seemed pleased about this and proceeded to close the booth door and prepare to play. With that, the mare at the console worked her usual magic and the red light lit up.

Without the need to mask her interest, Vinyl listened eagerly, curious about Octavia's performance with a violin. Unsurprisingly to the DJ, her client's skill with a violin was nothing short of breathtaking. A slow, melancholy melody filled the booth, flooding into the recording equipment and, more importantly, into Vinyl's heart. She could not help herself from being overtaken by the music, and soon she found herself crying behind the cover of her oversized shades. These were not sobs that wracked her very soul, or the simple sniffles of a filly, but a shade between – these were warm, soft tears, cried out in slow murmurs.

Mustering all her willpower, Vinyl managed to stop her crying before the song ended, wiping away the tears that would be most obvious to the mare inside the booth – she may have been okay with expressing her enjoyment of Octavia's music, but she had no intention of being a gibbering wreck in front of her. It took a moment for her to realize the cellist had stopped playing, turning her head to the booth and flashing a quick smile to cover any suspicions that may have been arising. “Definitely no worries about that one,” she announced over the speaker, “you play the violin quiet well.”

“I would hardly be doing a professional recording,” she replied coolly, “for an instrument I could not play well.” There was the tiniest glimmer of joy in Vinyl when Octavia had said 'professional recording', remembering that she was recording for a very well known musicians. Earlier in the week, the DJ had done a little searching about to see just how well known the cellist was – when she realized the scale of her success she almost shrunk back at the mere thought of it. On the surface, Vinyl would always play up an uncaring attitude about the success of other ponies, but she had, quite honestly, begun to feel more than a tad inadequate next to Octavia. That, on top of her erratic moods had been making her plan of having a good day harder to realize.

“Ready for the next?” the mare at the console asked, trying her best to focus on her work.

After a little shuffle to readjust herself, Octavia raised her violin to its position. “Ready.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The pair passed the time until lunch with relative ease – between the recording of new tracks and a few additional takes on previous ones, Octavia had yet to do any of the practice she had suggested earlier. As the cellist stepped out from the booth she immediately, though not too swiftly or eagerly, turned to Vinyl. “Would you like to do lunch again, Vinyl?”

“Sure, sounds good,” the other mare replied, hopping off from her seat at the console and following Octavia out the door. “Do we want to go to the same place again, or look for something different?”

The cellist pondered this for a moment as they walked down the halls. “I do not recall seeing anything that particularly sparked my interested when we were out last – I quite enjoyed that café and would not mind visiting it again.”

“'Kay.” Vinyl rolled her eyes behind her shades, thinking to herself that Octavia could have said that the same place was fine. They continued on, destination set as they exited the studio, promptly turning down the street.

“Ah, we forgot to ask Mix if would be interested today,” the cellist announced after they walked a block. “He did say he would take us up on the offer another time.”

Vinyl hummed and nodded her head. “Yeah, but we can always just invite him next time.” She had said it without much thought, and did not notice the vaguely intrigued look Octavia had given her – whether or not she consciously planned on having lunch with the cellist again, she had subconsciously taken it for granted.

“Indeed we can,” Octavia replied, dropping her gaze from Vinyl and deciding to forgo looking into the meaning of the other mare's words. The two were silent for a time as they continued to walk to the café. Birds chirped over head, the sky bright and clear as the city beneath it hummed with life, busying itself with its own affairs. The gentle clip-clop of hooves against pavement resonated around them, mixing with the sound of their own steps. They soon found themselves at the café and where met by the same bright-eyed mare as before, who greeted them with a smile and tone of familiarity, despite this being only the second time they had encountered each other. After they were seated and given menus, the mare promptly left to fetch them coffee.

“She's a friendly one, isn't she?” Octavia announced more than asked.

Vinyl nodded as she flipped through the menu. “Yeah, maybe a little too peppy, but she's nice enough.” Once she had decided on her lunch, the DJ closed the menu and looked up to find the cellist looking at her thoughtfully. “Something on your mind?”

“Well,” she replied, clearing her throat and promptly shifting her gaze, “I was curious about the recording incident last week and-”

The mare across the table waved a hoof dismissively as she set her shades upon the table. She was about to respond when the waitress return with the coffee and asked to take their orders. They placed them quickly, Octavia picking the same order she had last week as she had not read the menu today. Once the young mare left, Vinyl turned back to the cellist. “Look, it's no biggy – you had a slip-up, I lied a little, but you're good now and I owned up to it.”

“I understand all of that, however, I am curious as to why you lied about the recording.”

A small scowl formed on the DJ's lips as she began stirring sugar into her coffee. “What, didn't you believe me before – I like your music, is that so hard to accept?”

“No, it is not hard to accept that you like my music because, quite frankly, so many ponies enjoy my music it would be more unbelievable if you did not.”

“So what, you're super popular and plenty of highbrow ponies like you music? Am I not supposed to because I'm a DJ?”

Octavia furrowed her brow, sipping her coffee as she stared at the mare across from her who was becoming increasingly disgruntled. “Why would you even think I was insinuating that?”

“Because classical musicians always look down on modern artists and DJ's.” At this point, Vinyl's expression was a mixture of anger and remorse, and Octavia was beginning to see what was bothering her.

“Vinyl,” she said softly, lowering her eyes to gaze into the dark liquid in her cup, “I'm sorry if you have a poor opinion of classical musicians, and I understand that there are those among us that look down upon newer styles of music and those that promote them. However, you cannot go around holding everypony to your unfair biases just because you feel like some of them have wronged you.”

The DJ relaxed her features, looking at the contemplative cellist across from her. Taking a moment to also reflect upon the surface of her coffee, she let out a sigh and looked back up at Octavia. “Yeah, you're right – it's not fair of me to be saying shit like that without even asking you about it. I've always just assumed that anypony that plays classical music would think less of me for being a DJ, like I'm not good enough for their music.”

“Music is a personal affair, Vinyl, even when we treat it professionally – I doubt I need to explain that to you, if you really do care about music. You told me last week that a pony cannot control how their tastes work. Yes, you can expose yourself to new and different kinds of foods and acquire diverse tastes as you age and experience more, but your tastes will always be your tastes, no matter what happens – you were always going to enjoy current kinds of foods, and dislike others. Is music not the same way? Why is it that some ponies enjoy classical music while others do not? Is one group wrong and the other right? No, it is all about personal taste.

“I won't pretend that I have not had my fair share of looking down upon new genres – in my college years I was convinced that electronic music was nothing but a fad, a flavour of the month that would eventually end up in some trash bin where it belonged. Some ponies never get over these sorts of views and biases, but most of us realize, at one point or another, that it's all just personal tastes. There's good and bad when it comes to technique, structure, and the like, but at the end of the day, none of that matters if you are not happy listening to the music.”

Octavia sighed and cast a look out to the city streets and the ponies that past by. “Quite honestly, though, I am blowing a little hot air – if it were not for you being the one recording for me and what you said about taste, I would not have have spent time this past week thinking on the subject. So, as odd as it seems to me, I want to thank you for making me realize this, because certainly no pony else was going to.” As those last word left the cellists lip, the mare across from her sat stunned in silence. Vinyl had spent so much time worrying that Octavia looked down upon her for being a DJ, but her she was, thanking her for something she never even intended to do. Not since her college years with Mix had Vinyl felt like she had truly done anything worthy of anypony's thanks, but here it was, coming from the most unlikely of places. She felt the genuine appreciate the cellist expressed to her, and it made her feel quite pleasant inside.

“You're welcome, I guess?” the DJ eventually muttered happily, a hint of a giggle in her words. “I hope you don't think I was trying to make you think about all that – not that it ain't great that you did, but I was never trying to make anything happen except explain my coffee habits.”

Looking back to Vinyl with a small smile, Octavia nodded her head a little. “I assumed that this revelation of mine was not your intended doing, and that you would more than likely be surprised by it, but it is still your doing all the same. If you don't mind, though, I would still like a clear answer to my previous question: why did you lie about the recording?”

“Well, if it isn't obvious by now, I don't have the best opinion of classical musicians, and I had always thought classical was rather boring. Now, hey, it's not like I couldn't appreciate the work and everything that went into the stuff, but it just didn't stick with me like other music did – it felt kinda lifeless. But then I heard you play, and, well, it was really good. It went against all my beliefs on classical music, and I didn't really know how to feel about it. On top of that, I kept thinking that you'd just turn your snout up at me if I bothered to say anything nice about your music, so I acted as indifferent as possible.

“The lie about the recording, though, was a lot less thought out – I just blurted it out at the time. Honestly, I wanted you to go back to playing well for myself. So, yeah, I really just lied to get something for myself... big surprise.” As if the waitress had a penchant for bringing their food at the least opportune moment, the bright-eyed mare appeared again. After the pair thanked her she departed quickly, though Octavia swore she saw her take another look at them before she left. When she turned back, Vinyl had already began eating.

“You're being too hard on yourself,” the cellist said, taking another sip of her coffee as she eyed her food. “You told me yesterday that you did not me to feel worse about my lack luster performance, remember?”

The DJ stopped eating for a moment but did not look up. “Yeah, but I also said I lie, remember?”

“If you are somepony that lies, why go and admit that? It just makes it harder to get away with lying.”

“Exactly.” Unsure of how to continue approaching the subject, Octavia took the moment to begin eating her food. The dish was the same as the last time, so when she spent more time watching Vinyl than paying attention to how her food tasted it hardly mattered – she knew what to expect without giving it any mind. Between every bite she would spare a look up to the mare across from her, who was always looking down or away from the cellist. As the pair got a good way through their meal, Octavia eventually grew tired of the current state of affairs.

“I'm sorry if I encroached on a personal matter,” she spoke up, dabbing her lips with a napkin.

Vinyl finished the last bite of her meal, swallowing slowly before finally look back at Octavia. “No, I'm sorry about ruining a perfectly fine lunch by acting like a mopey teenager.”

“I'm sure you have your reasons.”

“Hah, yeah, bad ones.” The DJ gave a weak smile as she turned her stare out to the street. “They say we all have our reasons, but I wonder sometimes, do we always want to know what those reasons are?”

The cellist gave a nod before finishing of her meal. “Well, how about we pay for this and make our way back to the studio?”

“Sounds good to me.” Octavia ushered the waitress over, much to her delight, thanking her again and asking for the bill. In a moment she returned with a small piece of paper that was their bill and set it upon the table, taking away their dishes as the two mares fished out their money. Once they had paid, the pair got up, Octavia making sure to give the bright-eyed mare an appreciative nod before they departed.

“If we come back here,” the cellist said as they made their way down the street, “I should make a point to get that mare's name.”

Vinyl adjusted how her shades rested upon her face as they walked. “Didn't she say what her name was in her little spiel the first time?”

“She likely did, but I will admit that I have forgotten it all but completely. Nevertheless, I would like to more formally make her acquaintance.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Vinyl muttered disinterestedly, far more keen on listening to Octavia play music rather than her talk about formal meetings. The pair continued on in silence until they reached the studio, entering and quickly making their way to their workroom. Once they were settled back in, Vinyl began the process of going over the album with Octavia – they picked out which takes were the best, decided against any whole-out retakes, and only found a bit here and there that could do with some touch-up. Evidently, the cellist had not taken into account how long reviewing the album would take, and soon realized that it was getting late – her practice would have to wait for another time.

As Octavia packed up her instruments, Vinyl turned off the equipment and reflected on the day. Overall, she decided, today had been a good day, meaning that her goal for the day had be realized and she could go home happy. True, a part of her wanted to stay here, listening to Octavia play her wonderful music, but she knew that was not going to happen. She let out a small sigh and slipped off her chair at the console. As she did, the cellist finished packing and turned to her.

“I have recently found myself without anypony to accompany me to a concert this Saturday,” she dove in without hesitation. “I was wondering if, perhaps, you may be interested in accompanying me.”

Vinyl was surprised by the sudden invitation, and took a moment before she responded to think. “I assume it's a classical show?”

“It is, but it is by a most wonderful quartet that has never failed to impress me – their music really is inspiring.”

“Well, I guess I'm not really doing anything Saturday anyways-”

“Excellent, it's settled then.” The DJ gave Octavia a sharp stare from behind her shades, but this was another look that would go unnoticed by the other. “The concert is a tad earlier than most – five o'clock, to be precise – so I believe we should do dinner after instead of the usual case of before.”

Once again, Vinyl was taken aback. “Dinner?”

“Yes, Vinyl, dinner – we can hardly go to see a splendid concert such as this and not make a night of it.”

“Oh, alright.”

Octavia furrowed her brow and gave the DJ a questioning gaze. “What, is something the matter with dinner?”

“Nah, it's just that I never figured you to be the 'make a night of it' type of pony, even if it's not as wild as, say, when I make a night of it.”

“I may not go gallivanting around, boozing and engaging in questionable activity, but I know how to have an enjoyable night out.”

“Hey,” the DJ began as she trotted towards the door, “nothing wrong with a chill evenin' – that can be cool too.” Once she got to the door, Vinyl turned to see the cellist had collected her instruments and was heading to the door as well. “So, it's at five, right – when and where do you want me showing up?”

The pair had now exited the recording room and were making their way down the hall as they spoke. “Do you know where the Hoofington hotel is?”

“Yeah, up on Main in the old downtown.”

“Indeed. I live in the apartment adjacent to the Hoofington – come to my apartment at four-thirty, if you could, so we have time to get to the concert hall and be relatively early.”

“I hope 'relatively early' doesn't mean I'm going to be sitting around for too long.”

Octavia shook her head as the exited the studio. “No, Vinyl, you won't have to wait long before the show. Now, I do hope you have something suitable to wear.”

“Ugh, I have to be early AND get dressed up?” The cellist simply gave Vinyl a hard glare in response. “Fine, fine. Yeah, I've got a nice dress that I only ever wear when I go with Mix to big industry events – I'm sure it's good for this.”

“So long as you attend in formal attire, you should be alright. Now then, we're all settled on the matter?”

“Mhm, I'll dress nice, show up at your place around four-thirty, and then we'll go to the show, followed by dinner – make a night of it, right?” Octavia seemed rather satisfied with this response and bade Vinyl goodbye as she trotted off towards her home. The DJ watched silently as the cellist walked down the street with her instruments slung over her back and sides, swaying with each quick step of the gray mare's hooves. Looking up to the sky as it slowly grew darker, Vinyl agreed with herself once more: today definitely had been good.

Author's Note

Alright, a day before the 19th, soooooo technically less than a month this time. :sheepishtwilight:

Anyways, I'll keep this brief: I really like how this chapter came out and the transition into mature content just happened and felt natural, so I'm going with it.

I'm doing a shipfic challenge for the next two weeks, so expect a new story within that time, but it might be a while again for the next chapter of Scratches because of that. Don't worry though, because I'm FINALLY on a consistent schedule with my artwork and writing, so I should be getting chapters out a lot faster following this little challenge.

As per usual, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. :)