Author's Note

Octavia smiled proudly as she looked over the neat piles of sheet music that lay in front of her. While she had no idea of how long it normally took musicians to create original compositions, she felt as though she had done quite a good job over the last three weeks. The concert season how slowed down as of late, so the cellist had plenty of time to work on her new material, but this did not mean that she was without work. Unlike a normal pony’s job, Octavia got by on grand paycheck to grand paycheck the majority of the time; packing theatre after theatre kept her income quite stable despite not needing to work every day.

Though she was focusing on her original works, Octavia was still playing the work of other ponies’ at smaller venues: parties for the Manehattan elite and high class restaurants. Music was not the only activity occupying her time, however; she had recently begun spending more time with Vinyl, despite not needing her for work reasons. After she had stayed over to listen to the rough draft of Octavia’s first piece, the DJ had expressed an interest in spending more time together. The idea had originally caught the cellist off-guard, but she quickly warmed up to it; while she knew and was respected by a great many ponies, Octavia usually did very little socializing outside of work related affairs, so the opportunity was welcomed.

During their time spent together, both mares attempted to expose the other to different genres of music, with varying degrees of effectiveness: Vinyl still could not sit quietly through most orchestral or classical pieces, and Octavia continued to find it difficult to classify electronic sounds and beats as music. One day Octavia felt tired of listening to Vinyl complain about how boring she thought classical music was, so she searched through her collection in the hopes of finding something to appease the, thus far, unimpressed DJ. As a surprise to both of them, Vinyl reacted quite positively to an album of jazz that the cellist had forgotten that she owned, but was now quite grateful that she did.

“It’s the off-beat rhythm and the almost-out-of-tune sounding instruments,” Vinyl had said about the music, expressing her interest in how it gave an unstructured feel, while still being technically sound. Octavia’s delight in the DJ’s interest was short lived, however, as the unicorn began expressing a desire to try remixing jazz music; the cellist felt as though this could only mean the butchering of good music, but Vinyl would not have any of that talk. Musical tastes aside, the pair got along quite well despite their clashing personalities; Vinyl continued to tease the cellist, and Octavia kept on taking things the DJ said too literally. Their general banter and sessions of repartee continued on, having no end in sight or any real negative effect on their new friendship.

The sound of her phone ringing brought Octavia out of her thoughts and her eyes away from the sheet music. She got up and walked across the room to her phone, initially curious as to who was calling her at this hour, but then realized it was likely Vinyl: she had a habit of calling at times Octavia felt were inappropriate (though she was hardly bothered by it anymore).

“Hello?” Octavia answered, posing the word as a question just it case it was somepony else.

“Hey, Octy, it’s me,” a voiced slurred from the other end.

“Vinyl? You don’t sound too good.”

“Nah, o’ course I’m good! Never better!”

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” While Octavia knew Vinyl could not see her, she gave her an extremely displeased look anyways.

“M-maybe... maybe just a little bit.” A hiccup followed by a giggle chimed across the phone line.

“Well, drunk or not, I assume you have a reason for calling me?”

“Oh yeah, that...”

“... so, what did you call me for, Vinyl?”

“Um... well...” There was a minute of silence, and instead of pestering her to continue, Octavia simply sighed and waited for the DJ to speak.

“I... uh... uh, no reason,” Vinyl finally said. “Yup. No reason at all.”

“No reason? Did you really just get drunk and call me for no reason?”

“I-I gotta go, see ya’, Octy!” Octavia was about to to reply when she her a wooden thud from the other end of the line. As she paused and listened, she could hear a pony, presumably Vinyl, breathing slowly, followed by a noise that sounded like a pony flopping down onto a bed or couch. Continuing to listen, in a mixture of curiosity and worry, Octavia remained quiet and waited for something else to happen. After the longest ten seconds the cellist had ever persevered through, a muffled and quiet noise started at the other end of the line, quickly growing into the clearly audible sobs of a pony with their head buried into a pillow.

“Vinyl?” Octavia spoke without hesitation or thought, acting on impulse alone. Vinyl’s confusion and panic could be heard as she attempted to stifle her tears and rapid breathing.

“Octy? Where-” she began nervously, quickly interrupted.

“You left the phone.”

“Oh... uh... I...”

“Vinyl... what’s wrong?” While she was genuinely worried about her, Octavia had to admit that this was not a scenario she had ever been in before; growing up she did not have a lot of close friends, and never before had a pony intimately confided in or broken down in front of her (even over the phone).

“I-its n-nothing.”

“Don’t give me that; you already told me there was no reason why you called me and then just started crying.”

“I don’t c-cry, what are-”

“Vinyl, you’re still crying, so-”

“No I’m not!”

“Yes you are, you stubborn little filly!”

“I’m not a filly! Filly’s aren’t even allowed to drink!”

“Uh... what does that...? N-nevermind, that’s not the point. The point is-”

“-on top of my horn!”

“Now you’re just trying to avoid the conversation!”

“M-maybe you’re the one trying to avoid something!”

“I’m not the one getting drunk and calling other ponies for ‘no reason’ just to cry about it!”

“I’m crying because of you, dumbass!”

“You’re... what?” Octavia stopped, eyes wide and all the previous anger of the argument left her body with a sharp exhale. All of her previous thoughts were replaced by the swirling confusion that dominated her mind like a mighty storm; her eyes continued to stretch open, seeing the world in front of her much clearer, despite not paying the slightest attention to it. Had there be any room left in her mind to analyze outside stimuli, Octavia would have noticed the deafening silence from Vinyl’s end of the phone.

“W-what...” Octavia began, feeling a pressure behind her eyes building. “What did I do?”

“I’m sorry I called you,” Vinyl muttered, strangely calm and without slurring her words, but with the sound of tears creeping into her voice. Before Octavia could reply, a sharp click sprang from her phone and she became aware that the connection had been cut. Desperately she tried to bring it back, calling Vinyl anxiously, but to no avail: the DJ did not answer. In an act of unprecedented impulse, the cellist gave up on calling Vinyl and bolted out of her apartment (she was paying just enough attention to remember to lock her door and take her keys, however).

She ran down the dark streets, her hooves smacked against the pavement as the city lights sent her shadow cascading across the world she streaked by. Every step she took felt like both a great leap forward and an inching shuffling backwards; time simultaneously sped up and ground to a halt as the mare ran. With all perception of time and space becoming irrelevant to her, Octavia was shocked when she suddenly found herself facing the door of Vinyl’s apartment.

‘What am I doing here?’ she asked herself, finally taking a moment to stop and think. ‘I know I should care about Vinyl, she is my friend, after all, but since when did I start dropping everything just to come rushing to see somepony? Yes, I’m curious as to... no... I’m worried about why she was crying, but galloping over here in the middle of the night? This isn’t like me at all. But... I guess, if I’m already here, I should at least make the trip worth it; best to set aside my problems for now and see what I can do for Vinyl, even if this is, somehow, my fault.’

“Vinyl,” Octavia called out as she knocked upon the door gingerly. She paused and waited for a short while, unsure if the DJ would even answer her door. The worried cellist was about to knock a second time when she heard the soft sound of hoofsteps from behind the door.

“Octy... is that you?” a tired and worn out voice asked.

“Yes, Vinyl, it’s me.”

“W-why... why are you here?”

“I was worried about you.” Octavia shuffled closer and rested her forehead against the door as she spoke. “The crying... the yelling... hanging up on me and refusing to answer when I called you back... I... I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do, especially when you said this was my fault. I-”

“It’s not your fault.” The door began to creak open and Octavia lifted her head up while taking a few small steps back. Once the wooden barrier that had been separating the two was moved aside, the cellist looked across what felt like a monumentally large distance to see the DJ just a few feet away from her. Vinyl’s mane was a mess, while the whites of her eyes were reddened and blending in with the hazy magenta of her uncovered irises, and the wet smears of tears were stained on her cheeks as she looked back at Octavia.

“It’s my fault,” Vinyl said somberly without taking her eyes off of Octavia. Slowly, the desolate looking mare turned around and walked slowly towards her bedroom, leaving the front door open as a clear invitation. Octavia hesitantly crossed the threshold and closed the door behind her quietly, quick to follow her friend thereafter. As she came to the entrance of the disastrous mess that the DJ called a room, she observed the desperate form of her friend sitting on the end of the bed, head hung low. With the resolve to ignore any thoughts about what she may be stepping on, Octavia slowly closed the distance between her and Vinyl, coming up to sit next to her on the bed. The pair sat in silence for some time before either spoke.

“So,” Octavia began nervously, “what’s this all about then?”

“If you haven’t realized it,” Vinyl murmured slowly, “I’m not the greatest at making friends.”

“You’re a little rough around the edges, but... you’re not a bad pony or anything.”

“Yeah... that’s probably what Mix would say. He told me a while back that I needed to try and make friends... at least one friend, because I shouldn’t just be relying on him. I guess I had never really thought about it before, but he was right... I do rely on him for everything: getting work, getting out of work, fixing up the mistakes I caused, and letting my drunk flank crash at his place more times than I can count. He’s a really good friend, but I realized... I don’t know why. I mean, I know he’s just a good pony because that’s who he is, but why do I deserve his friendship? I don’t do really anything in return for him, but I still constantly fall back on him.

“I was thinking about that earlier, after I got home with some drinks; I stopped drinking once I realized just how much I use him... my friend. And I thought for a moment ‘What’s wrong with me? Why do I treat my only friend like this?’ but then I remembered he’s not my only friend... at least, not anymore.” Vinyl paused and rolled her shoulders a bit, continuing to have her head hung low and looking at the floor. She let out a long, heavy sigh as Octavia sat there, completely quiet, listening intently to the lament of the DJ.

“And he told me,” she continued, “that I needed to open up to somepony. He said not him though, because I relied on him too much... but, again, he’s right. It’s not like opening up to him would normally be a bad thing, but when he was the only option and I still hadn’t in all the years I’ve known him... well, I know that’s messed up. But the thing is... I’ve never really opened up to anypony, because I’ve always said to myself: ‘Vinyl, you’ve got a good life, so anything you could be crying about are just stupid, pointless problems.’ I mean, when there were ponies who weren’t even half as successful as me, living in real shitty places with barely any money to get by on, then why are my problems important? How do my little, pointless worries and fears even deserve to be vocalized when there are so many more pressing issues in the world?” Vinyl raised a hoof to wipe away the few tears that had begun to collect above her cheek.

“Vinyl...” Octavia spoke softly, tentatively placing a hoof on her friend’s shoulder. “Everypony has problems, and just because they might not be life threatening, doesn’t mean they’re not important. I know sometimes I feel awful silly about complaining about little things like my toast being burnt, while I stand in my nice, clean apartment with luxuries that not everypony is so lucky to have. But there’s a difference between not making them a big deal, and completely ignoring them; you really shouldn’t hide all of your feelings away... but, come to think of it, I’m a tad guilty of that myself.”

“So... even if I don’t think they’re important, I should express my feelings?” Vinyl lifted her head up and looked towards Octavia as she spoke, the slightest glimmer of hope in her eyes.

“Yes, because your emotions are part of what makes you who you are, so they are always important.”

“Would you forgive me... if I told you that I lied about being drunk when I called?”

“Well, I was the one who assumed you were, so you didn’t really lie to me.” There was another moment of silence between the two as the DJ looked up at her friend and swallowed nervously. With unannounced resolution, Vinyl placed her hoof upon Octavia’s shoulder and swiftly brought her own mouth to the cellist’s without a moment of hesitation. Taken aback by the sudden turn of events, the cellist tensed up, muscles frozen as a sharp blast of air escaped her nostrils. Immediately realizing how unresponsive Octavia was, Vinyl slowly pulled back from her and let her hoof slide back to her side as she dropped her head in defeat once more. They both looked away from the other, too unsure or embarrassed to meet the other’s gaze.

“I’m sorry...” the broken voice of the DJ said after a minute of eternity. She began to shuffle uncomfortably, pulling her legs and chin into her chest, slowly turning away from Octavia and continuing to stare downwards. The cellist took a slow, shaky breath in a vain attempt to calm her nerves as she rubbed her hoof in circles on the bed sheets. As the silence stretched on between the two confused and mentally-misplaced friends, the slow drone of the fan above became increasingly more noticeable to Vinyl.

Almost forgetting that her friend was sitting a hoof away from her, Vinyl raised her head slowly, craning her neck back until she was staring straight up at the fan. It spun slowly and quietly, completely devoid of worry or care, sadness or anger, fear or misery. The fan continued to spin at its same slow, steady rate, unattached to Vinyl’s world or any of her problems. That moment, like every other before, was nothing short of ordinary to the fan; and that moment, like every other to follow after, would mean absolutely nothing to the fan. In the stark realization of this, Vinyl felt herself unable to process this revelation, a great sadness at her confusion welling up inside of her. Aware that she was no longer able to adequately cope with her emotions, the DJ made no effort in trying to stop herself as she closed her eye and let her tears spring forth. She began crying loudly as she dropped her head and collapsed her body against Octavia.

Snapped out of her anxious stupor, Octavia was startled and worried as she looked down to find Vinyl sobbing and pressed up against her. While she was still unsure of how to approach the issue of the kiss that had happened earlier, she put that aside as she wrapped her hooves around her friend and laid her head atop Vinyl’s.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” the DJ muttered bitterly between sobs. Octavia remained silent as she slowly stroked Vinyl’s back, her eyes closed with her face buried in her friend’s messy blue mane. “I used to know exactly who I was and what I did. I was Vinyl Scratch... I was DJ P0N3... I played music for ponies... I partied... I had a good time... I never got caught up in ridiculous emotional shit... I had Mix and I never had to worry... I... I...”

“Shhhhhhhhh,” Octavia cooed as Vinyl began stammering, unable to finish her thought. “It’s okay, Vinyl.”

“How is it okay? I have no idea who I am anymore.”

“You’re Vinyl Scratch.”

“But I-”

“Just listen to me. The partying, lack of worries, and constant running from your emotions did not make you who you were. Yes... you are different now, but, at the heart of it all, you’re still Vinyl Scratch... and that’s what’s important.” Vinyl did not reply and continued to cry, though softer now, into her friend. The time passed in silence as the pair remained in their embrace, surrounded by the low drone of the fan above and the heavy, stale air of the DJ’s apartment. Neither one said anything for a great deal of time; Vinyl’s bouts of sobs eventually died down to a string of sniffles, while Octavia continued to hold her friend close and stroke her comfortingly.

“Octy...” Vinyl finally murmured, her voice no longer sombre or desperate, as she remained in her friend’s embrace.

“Yes, Vinyl?” Octavia replied warmly.

“I’m sorry I put you through all this.”

“You don’t need apologize.”

“I need to at least thank you.”

“Well, you’re welcome, but... I really didn’t do much outside of listening to you.”

“No, Octy, you did so much more than that.” Vinyl slowly sat up, turning her head towards Octavia to talk face-to-face. Her eyes were red and slightly puffy, and she wore a tired but pleasant little smile on her face. “You came rushing over here without even knowing that there was any real problem; it could have just been me being a stupid drunk, but you knew there was more to that. You sat down and talked with me because you actually cared about me. You tried to comfort me and give me hope, and even when I... even when I kissed you... you still stayed. You could have gotten up and left, or yelled at me, or... anything else... but you chose to stay here and keep comforting me. I know I don’t have a lot of past experiences to draw from, but I feel like you went above and beyond ‘just being a friend’ tonight... I’m... I’m really glad you came.”

Octavia smiled as a few tears formed on the edges of her eyes, but she ignored them and she reached forward and pulled Vinyl into a warm embrace.

“I’m really glad you called,” the cellist said as they separated from their hug. “I mean, I wasn’t happy to see you so upset, but now, looking back with the knowledge of everything you’ve told me, I realize you must really trust me.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re used to having all sorts of ponies trust you.”

“No, not really. To be honest with you: I don’t actually have a lot of friends.”

“What? You’re super popular and know all those fancy musicians and whatnot.”

“That’s true, but it doesn’t mean I’m actually good at making friends. I didn’t say anything because I thought you’d just mock me about it, but most of my peers prefer more business-like relationships; while many host large events for our peer group, practically none of those in attendance are intimately close to each other.”

“That seems kinda stupid; why invite all those ponies if you’re not even friends with most of them?”

“Well, what about you? Part of the reason that I never talked about my lack of friends was because I felt that you must have hundred of friends. If you meet so many ponies and were so popular in the DJing world, why didn’t you make friends outside of Mix?”

“I’m not really sure; I guess I just never really cared enough. I mean, most of my life has been living day to day, not having any big, long term plans. I used to think that having involved, complicated plans was just setting yourself up to be disappointed if they didn’t work; that could never happen with living in the moment, because I didn’t feel like I was ever missing out on something if there was always something else to do. I never really got invested in anything... or anypony. I guess it just didn’t seem to be worth it to me back then.”

“Heh, it seems we’re more alike than we thought.”

“Haha, I guess you’re right, Octy.” Vinyl let out a yawn and stretched, realizing how tired and worn out she felt. In response, Octavia lifted a hoof to cover her mouth as she yawned as well, partly out of exhaustion and partly because the DJ just had.

“Hm, it’s gotten pretty late,” Vinyl muttered, staring lazily at her clock.

“Late is an understatement,” the cellist chuckled sheepishly. “I’ve been here so long it’s practically early.”

“Well, you’re welcome to stay here the night.” Octavia was about to decline her friend’s offer when she realized that she was likely to pass out if she tried to walk back to her apartment.

“I guess, if it’s either that or risk my chances on the streets of Manehattan... well, the streets are cleaner than your apartment.” Playful, Vinyl reached out a hoof and gave her friend a little shove.

“Look at you: joking - I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Ah, it appears you’re rubbing off on me; I better distance myself from you, before I start losing all of my manners and forget about basic hygiene.”

“You have learnt well, young grasshopper.” Vinyl clasped her hooves together and bowed her head towards the chuckling cellist. “But, jokes aside, I’ve only got this bed, so I hope you don’t have a problem sleeping next to me.”

“So long as there isn’t any more funny business.” The DJ dropped her smile for a moment and looked away. Quick to correct herself, Octavia reached a hoof out and placed it on her friend’s shoulder. “I will take it seriously, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow... alright?”

“Alright, yeah, sorry,” Vinyl replied, smiling back. “We’re both a little sleep deprived as is, so best to put off serious topics until later.”

“Agreed. Now, let’s get to sleep before I collapse and fall off your bed.”

“Ah, I knew it: you do want to be in my bed!”

“Hush, you!” The pair’s laughter lighten the room as the dim light of the room was finally replaced by a serene darkness.

A/N:

Ah man, so that only took me... oh... a little over 3 weeks? Maybe it was because I time-skipped so much for this one.
Note to self: Don't right a "X Years Later" epilogue. :P

Anyways, hopefully this was worth the wait. While this took the longest, I'm hesitant to call it the best chapter thus far, but, I do believe it has the most to it, and I'm fairly happy with how it turned out. The story is really starting to be something now, instead of just watching little snips of these ponies lives (but, don't get me wrong, I adore Slice of Life, but there needs to be something else as well).

I also realize that you might still be thinking: "Wait, but Vinyl said she was crying because of Octavia, didn't see? It doesn't really look like you explored that - what gives?" If you're thinking that, don't worry, I'm not going to just leave things like that completely unanswered; this chapter simply moved in it's own direction, and it felt more natural to let the explanation come when the characters want them to, and not when I want them to (if that makes any sense to anyone).

Once again, thanks for reading, and drop a comment if you're so inclined. :)
(I haven't gotten any criticism yet, and while I'm not happily awaiting my first thumbs down or not 100% positive comment, I know they've got to come eventually, and I would just be happy to get some constructive criticism.)