Author's Note

The bass radiated, filling Vinyl’s room with sound and shaking practically everything as she sat on the ground, back against her bed. A furious, unkempt excuse for a mane flailed around atop of the DJ’s head, dragging her skull and neck with it. With eyes closed and teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, Vinyl violently shook everything from her shoulders up in time with the music. On a practically high note of the song, the unicorn, currently devoid of conscious thought, threw her head back with a sudden snap, followed soon after by a sharp thud.

“BUCK!” she shouted angrily, curling her chin in towards to her chest. Out of instinct, she quickly grabbed the back of her throbbing head with her hooves, though she was not sure what it was supposed to do to help the problem. As reality started flooding back to her, Vinyl opened her eyes, looking at a strange blot of red on her floor. Just as she began to put her pained mind to the task of unraveling this mystery, she noticed another drop of red fall from just below her snout. Without another thought she licked her lips to confirm her suspicion: blood, most likely from smacking her head off of the bed while biting her lower lip - an idea, which now, felt rather stupid.

Attempting to turn off the aggressive sounds assaulting her ears, Vinyl only gave herself more pain by trying to do so first with her magic, quickly opting to do it by hoof. For a while she just sat in silence, trying to quell the agony spreading through her head by doing absolutely nothing. She sat still, body lying limply against the wooden frame of her bed, her head swaying so slightly it was hardly noticeable. The blood continued to trickle ever so slowly off of her lip, gently falling to the floor beneath her to join the ever expanding blot of red.

Vinyl groaned as she finally decided to get up and do something about the pain coursing through her. With every step she took towards the door, she swore she could feel every wave of kinetic energy displacing itself through her body: bouncing up every atom of her leg, working through her torso, and, finally, dancing up into her head. Walking from her bed to her door felt as though she had been walking through a desert of stones, where the landscape blended together and swirled in front of her, completely unrelenting. When she finally made it to her door, Vinyl leaned up against the frame for a moment, shaking and breathing hard.

“Vinyl?” a muffled voice called out. With her reactions slowed down so greatly, the unicorn had barely even registered the sound of knocking at her front door. Panting and trying to move faster, Vinyl pushed herself towards the door, almost forgetting about why she had gotten up in the first place. As she found herself halfway to the door she soon realized that trying to push herself that much was a terrible idea, and knew then that she was about to pay the price for that. The pain pulsated spastically and violently throughout her entire body, a sickness overcoming her as she began to lose her balance.

“Vinyl!” the muffled voice came again, this time louder, but she was not able to tell: her senses were quickly fading as she crumpled onto the floor. As she laid there, eyelids fluttering furiously in an attempt to remain conscious, she tried her best to use what was left of her senses to understand the situation. Unfortunately, her eyelids eventually gave up, defeated, and she began to black out to the hazy sounds of a voice and metallic clicks.

**********

With an unceremonious groan, Vinyl stirred, slowly regaining consciousness.

“Hey,” a voice said softly and with much concern, “how are you doing?” Before even attempting to speak, the DJ made it her business to figure out who was talking to her. Opening her eyes as sluggishly as one can open their eyes, Vinyl looked up from her bed at a familiar face.

“Mix…” she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” He reached out and stroked her mane softly, a soft smile stretched thinly across his face. “Now, if you can’t talk right now, don’t worry, but if you can: could you tell me what happened? When you didn’t come to your door or even shout to tell me to come in, I got worried and came in anyways to find you lying on the floor and bleeding. Luckily, it was only a little cut in your lip, but you unconscious still had me worried… what happened?” Vinyl simply stared at Mix, trying to focus on what he was saying, but as she did, a strange panic welled up inside of her, breaking the hazy stupor she had been in. Without any thought on the matter, Vinyl rolled her head into her pillow and began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Vinyl, what’s wrong?” While at first taken back by the turn of events, Mix quickly placed a hoof on Vinyl’s shoulder and brought himself closer to her. He had been with the mare through plenty of hard times, and thought he knew what it was like to see Vinyl at her lowest of lows. However, he had never seen her cry, and he sometimes assumed this was because Vinyl was disgusted by the thought of somepony balling their eyes out; she just never seemed like the crying type. This was not to say he did not believe that she never cried, but simply thought that she was probably ashamed of it.

“Why am I crying?” she asked through sobs, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“I-”

“Why am I crying?!” Mix soon realized that she was not actually asking him a question: she was angrily venting her confusion. “I don’t cry! What is there to cry about? Buck crying! I don’t have any bucking reason to cry, so why the buck am I crying?!” As she shouted, Vinyl shook her head into the pillow, furiously spreading her tears from corner to corner. Mix pulled his head back a bit as to not get caught in an unplanned head-butt, but kept a hoof on Vinyl’s shoulder, trying his best to silently comfort his friend. Without any idea why she was crying and acting like this, he felt completely powerless to help Vinyl, and could not think of anything to do for her. After sometime, she eventually stopped flailing her head and her exaggerated sobs became slow, quiet sniffles.

“Why am I crying?” she once again uttered, though much softer this time. Mix had hoped she would eventually lift her head up and actually look him in the eyes; while he had no idea how to handle the question, he desperately hoped that she would direct it to him so that he could at least try to help. Much to his dismay, however, Vinyl kept her head buried into the pillow and made no signs that she wanted him to answer her question.

After a few more minutes of agonizing silence, Mix realized that Vinyl had drifted off to sleep, her head no longer buried in the pillow so that should could breathe. He sighed and comfortingly stroked her mane.

**********

The gentle click of ceramic against wood and the wafting aroma of coffee greeted Vinyl as she awoke. She slowly explored the air with her snout, keeping her eyes closed and letting the smell sink in.

“You look ridiculous,” the familiar voice chuckled lightly.

“I bet I do,” Vinyl laughed quietly in response. She gently opened her eyes and looked up at Mix, a tired, worn out smile resting far below his sleepy eyes. As she moved her gaze down towards the cup of coffee, sitting on a small table next to him, she also noticed a plate littered with crumbs and the residue of an unknown food. For a moment she simply stared at the plate, completely perplexed as to how there could possibly be food in her apartment.

“After you fell asleep,” he began, as if answering her internal questions, “I called up a friend to have him pick up some food and coffee for me.”

“Why didn’t you just go pick that up yourself?”

“Are you kidding me? No way was I going to leave you like this.”

“Thanks, Mix,” Vinyl muttered, nuzzling her pillow and blinking slowly. Just as she began doing so, a pain spiked up in the back of her head, reminding her of the days previous events. She winced, clenching her eyes shut and rubbing at her temple with her hoof, willing the pain to subside. After a long, drawn out breath, Vinyl reopened her eyes and turned back to Mix. “So, why were you here anyways?”

“Well, I thought I’d come drop by and see how you were doing with the recording job, and just in general; I wanted to make sure you were okay,”

“Heh, I guess dropping by to find me passed out and bleeding wasn't what you were hoping for?”

“Yeah, not so much. But, you seem like you’re doing a lot better now; think you’re up to explaining how you ended up like that?”

“Eh, I guess it’s a case of being used to shaking my head to the music on stage, and less so around... wooden bed frames.”

“So you smacked your head and bit your lip as a result?” Mix shot her a disappointed and worried stare, tilting his head down slightly as he did so.

“Heh heh... yeah... sounds kinda stupid, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, for sure, but I hardly expected any less of the 'great DJ P0N3'.” He winked at her with the last line and gave a light chuckle. While giving a fake frown, Vinyl sheepishly reached her hoof out with the intention of smacking her friend, but ended up just flailing the appendage around like a drunkard.

“Get over here, so I can smack ya’ for that.” Mix chuckled and took a drink from his coffee, yawning as he set the cup back down. Curious as to just how long he had been here, Vinyl turned her head towards a clock to observe the time: 11 p.m.

“Oh...” she muttered without thinking.

“‘Oh’ what?” the reply came.

“I didn’t realize I had been out for so long. Did you really stay here the whole time?”

“Yes, Vinyl, I did.”

“Well, thanks... again.” Mix let out a sigh as he watched Vinyl sit up and begin stretching; even though he was the only pony she’d ever thank so profusely, he still knew there was practically no chance of getting her to talk about the crying episode from earlier. Deciding to leave it alone, he began another conversation.

“How are things with Octavia and the recording?” he inquired casually.

“Eh, it’s alright. I mean, it’s not very lively music, so it tends to be boring work most of the time, and Octy’s really uptight most of the time, but it does make it fun to bother her.” Mix cocked an eyebrow and grinned.

“So, you’ve given her a nickname and you pick on her? Aren’t you just the cutest?”

“Wh-what?! I-”

“Relax, Vinyl, relax - I was just kidding with you. Though, it would have been nice to hear that you had finally made a new friend after all this time.”

“What, with an uptight mare like that? Hardly; besides-”

“I’m glad to see that you’re back to yourself now, but I’ve got to say this before I leave - and I do need to leave soon - so just listen to me: It’s great that you’re doing this job without walking out on it, and I’m happy to see you cutting way back on the drinking and partying, even if it is just because of your lack of money. However, when I said you were digging yourself a hole back at the hospital, I didn’t just mean financially and professionally... you’re getting older, Vinyl, and while not having many close friends may have worked for up until now, I’m worried about what’s going to happen to you in the future. I know I say I’m always going to be there for you, but sometimes I’m on business trips, sometimes I’m just really busy, and, whether we want to think about it or not, I could die any day. I’m not telling you to go find someone else to be your backup crutch: I’m telling you that you should stop being so close minded, arrogant, and shut off from everypony.

“I’d love it if you’d really open up to me, but I’m afraid that would just make you more dependent on me than you already are. So please, Vinyl, not just for me, but for you... go out and really try to be friends with somepony; go and open up - stop being so trapped inside that ego of yours.” Mix slowly trotted towards the door, looking back at Vinyl before leaving. “I still have faith in you, whether you have it in yourself or not.”

Vinyl simply sat still on her bed, trying to take in everything that she had just heard. Before she could really put any conscious thought into the matter, her phone began ringing and she reached over to grab it.

“Hello?” she answered absent mindedly.

“Vinyl? It’s Octavia,” the voice on the other end replied, immediately causing Vinyl’s attention to return to the present.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“I was just calling to see if you could come over tomorrow.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” She paused and looked back to her clock, remembering the time. “Hey, isn’t this a bit late for you?”

“W-why ever would you suggest that it was?”

“Because you’re always complaining about how late we work when it never even gets this late.”

“Now, Vinyl, you’re talking as if we’ve been working together for much longer than we actually have.”

“I see you still can’t come up with original material, eh, Octy?” The DJ chuckled, realizing she had missed teasing Octavia after a few days of not working with her.

“Oh ha-ha, just keep making fun of the problem that both of us share.”

“Hey, I’m plenty original.”

“Yes, I’m sure they’re no other brash, oversized shade-wearing DJ ponies who don’t much care for classical music - you are clearly one of a kind.”

“Damn right I am!” There was a silence before Vinyl heard the familiar sound of the cellist’s exasperated sigh, allowing herself another chuckle.

“Anyways,” Octavia said sharply, “I do have to get going now.”

“Alright. So, I’m thinkin’ I might come by a little early tomorrow, seeing as I won’t be sleeping anymore tonight.”

“Vinyl, you... never mind. So long as it’s not before 8 a.m. then that’s fine. I’ll see you then.”

“Later.” With a click their communication ended and Vinyl set the phone down with a sigh. She slowly slid off of her bed, walking by the empty cup and plate Mix had left from his meal, and stopped to consider actually cleaning the dishes now instead of a week later. Lifting them with magic, the unicorn brought the dishes out into her small kitchen and dropped them into the sink; ‘At least I’m not just leaving them on the floor or something.’ While in her kitchen she noticed a take-out box with a note on top of it:

‘I heard you like eating. - Mix’

Vinyl chuckled as she opened up the box, realizing just how hungry she was, and dug straight in.

“Maybe...” she said quietly to herself, “maybe making another friend might be nice.”

**********

Just as Octavia finished the last pen stroke across the paper she heard a quick knocking at the door; she had just let Vinyl into the building recently, so she assumed it was her. She put the pen down and slowly walked over to the door, the slightest bit of hesitation in each of her steps. Opening the door she was greeted by the DJ’s familiar smile and purple shades (‘And without a drink in hoof, this time,’ Octavia inwardly thanked Celestia).

“Long time no see, Octy,” the DJ said as she trotted inside the apartment.

“Hardly,” Octavia replied with a small laugh, “it’s only been a few days.”

“So, what are we doing today?” Without answering Vinyl’s question, the cellist walked over to her kitchen counter and motioned to a small, rectangular piece of paper that rested there.

“Well... I’ve decided to start the album over, but I-”

“Start the album over?! Why? Did you go over the recordings and hate them? Oh Celestia... did you try to work the console and mess everything up?!”

“No- Vinyl, listen! I didn’t go over any of the recordings, I didn’t try to work the console, I’ve just decided not to use any of the work we’ve done.”

“I still don’t get why; what was the point of all that if you’re just going to give up on it?”

“Look, Vinyl, I’m not giving up on it, I’ve just decided that I...” Octavia paused and looked away from the unicorn’s gaze, almost unsure if she should continue explaining. After a few moments she took a deep breath and looked back to Vinyl. “I’ve decided that I want to write my own pieces for the album. If I want to stand out in the musical community, I cannot keep playing the same old songs again and again.” For what felt like hours to Octavia, the DJ simply looked in her direction, silent and with the emotion of her eyes completely hidden.

“A-anyways,” the cellist began, nervously, “we still spent all that time working, and you did the job you were hired to do, so it would be unjust of me to not pay you, whether I use any of the material or not. So, I wrote up the check for you already and just wanted to make sure you got it.” Vinyl walked over to the check, still silent, and looked down at the paper; although Octavia could not see it, behind the DJ’s veil of purple glass her eyes kept darting to the other pony nervously.

“So,” Vinyl said slowly, lifting her head back up, “when do you think that you’ll be getting to those original works of yours?”

“Well,” Octavia let out a mental sigh of relief, glad that Vinyl was speaking again, “I’d like to start working on them as soon as possible. In fact, I’ve already gotten a rough first draft of a piece written up.”

“I guess you won’t be needing anypony to record anything for a while then.”

“That’s right; I’m not sure when I’ll need to record again, but it definitely won’t be for at least a few weeks.”

“But you’re still going to be hiring somepony to record, right?”

“Well, of course - you don’t expect me to write all my own music and learn how to work that alien contraption in there?”

“No, I just mean... well, if you don’t have somepony else in mind-”

“Vinyl, are you asking me to hire you again?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“After all that happened while working with you, you’re questioning if I’d hire you again?” Vinyl felt a pang of regret hit her as the words came out of Octavia’s mouth. ‘Of course she wouldn’t want to hire you, idiot,’ she thought sadly, ‘Why’d you even bother to bring it up?’

“Yeah... I guess that’s fair,” Vinyl said aloud, picking up her check with magic and turning to head for the door.

“Vinyl,” Octavia called out, making the DJ turn back around, “I was going to say: Of course I’d hire you again.”

“Wait... what?”

“I said-”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you, but I mean... why?!”

“Well, we’re already acquainted, have each other’s information, have work experience, and... if it weren’t for you and your loud-mouthed, uninhibited ways, I would have simply released something no more interesting than, as you put it, ‘any other cello playing pony’ would have. But, I thought you were doing that job just for the money; why would you want to come back and record more if you couldn’t stand how boring it was?”

“It’s not like one gig is going to get me back up and DJing or anything, so I do still need work where I can get it. Plus, I guess there’s really no harm in studying other styles of music; broaden my tastes and all. I’m not walking in here saying, ‘Oh Celestia, I sure do love this classical stuff now!’, but... it can’t hurt to get to know it a bit better. You know... get to know what it’s all about and all that jazz.” It was now Octavia turn to stare at the other pony in silence; she had not expected this from Vinyl at all. She had already thought about rehiring Vinyl, more as a thank you than anything else (or so she told herself), but mostly expected her to turn the job down and just be happy to be done with the cellist’s boring music.

“I don’t play much jazz,” she finally spoke, ignoring the DJ’s frown, “but I understand what you’re saying. It’s great to hear that you’re willing to take an interest in other genres of music.” As she said those words, Vinyl felt a small flutter in her chest; she was a remained of every time Mix had said something like ‘It’s great to hear’ or ‘I’m happy to hear’.

“And hey,” Vinyl piped up happily, “it means I get to keep poking fun at you - the best part of the job!” Octavia sighed and shook her head with a small smile, for once not unnerved at the thought of listening to the DJ take jabs at her and her music. “But, while I’m here: do you mind showing me what you’ve got so far?”

“You want to hear me play? I know you said you were going to be more open about learning, but you don’t even know the first thing about my music: what criticism or help could you ever offer me?”

“Classical Music 101, Octy: The good stuff’ll put you to sleep! If you don’t bore me at least half to death with the song, then it clearly isn’t good for those stuffy ponies you normally play for.” Vinyl merrily trotted past Octavia with a smirk and headed towards her living room - one of the only three rooms she knew in the apartment. As Octavia was not recording, Vinyl saw no reason to go the studio, and, as strange as she may have believed her to be, the DJ thought it safe to assume that the cellist probably would not give a performance in the kitchen.

“Very well,” Octavia replied, slowly following the unicorn into the living room as her voice picked up a satirical tone. “I have been convinced by your logic and persuasive skills, and shall therefore perform my music for you.” She walked over to her cello case and grabbed the music stand next to it, setting it up with the sheets of music in the centre of the room. Carefully removing her beloved cello and setting it up as she balanced on her hind legs and cradled her bow, she prepared to play. “Now, let me remind you: this is a very rough, first draft of the song, so I make no promise as to its quality.”

“Ah, c’mon!” Vinyl shouted as she flopped onto the couch. “Have some confidence!”

“I have plenty of confidence, but, unlike you, I know the difference between the right amount of confidence and being an over-confident braggart.”

“Eh, enough of that! Let the show begin!” Octavia sighed and gave another smile as she shook her head at Vinyl. Regaining her focus, the cellist lifted her bow up and dove into her first ever self-composed piece of music.

Yar, there be Author's Note ahead!

Chapter 3... FINALLY! Definitely took the longest, as I think I spent too much creative burst on the first two chapters; this isn't to say that I think this is a bad chapter, just that it took more time and I didn't have the same "I'VE GOT TO WRITE THIS NOW" energy going into it.

So yeah, character development, blahblahblah, JOURNAL REGARDING THE STORY if you didn't read it already/are not yet subscribed to the story and therefore didn't get a notification for it.

Same stuff: Thanks for reading, thumbs up/track/follow/favourite if you liked it, and leave a comment if you've got the time. :)