Rocktavia

Chapter 6

“Why?”

“Why do I do it?”

“Do I do it fer me?”

“Do I do it fer the band?”

“I wan’ed t’be the bes’ I c’d be, but now I jus’ wanna be th’ bes’.”

Rocky drilled on his drumset. The faint smell of alcohol and blood hung in the apartment. Sweat ran down his face as he thumped the bass pedal over and over again. His excessive use of magic caused the base of Rocky’s horn to bleed. It ran down under his eyepatch, into his eye. He ignored it. Gritting his teeth he continued to bat away at the drumset, increasing his tempo until he’d reached the limits of his abilities.

Drops of blood fell from his horn onto the drum kit, the droplets bouncing up and back every time his stick hit the drum head. Rocky’s heart pumped.

Thu-dump!

The cymbals crashed and rang, the bass drum boomed and shook the floor beneath him. The drum shells shuddered violently with every unrelenting blow. This was the height of the solo. An unforgiving four hundred beats per minute.

Thu-dump!

Finally, the crash of the high hat, dropping his tempo slower and slower until his tapping matched his own heartbeat.

tish

Rocky shut his eye and steadily increased the tempo until he was again at his limits. His horn bled profusely, mixing with the sweat that poured down his face. The last measure came up. Rocky smashed the snare as hard as he could, once again at his limits. Completing the snare part, Rocky dropped his sticks and thumped the bass twice more before falling to the floor, gasping and gulping air.

As Rocky lay there, a small pool of blood formed on the floor in front of his face; strands of hair hanging in his eyes were soaked with it. Still gasping, he shut his eyes and felt warmed by a satisfying sense of accomplishment. He usually spent every night practicing the song over and over again, but always ended up dragging or rushing the tempo. This time he’d done it perfectly. He knew he’d sleep well that night, but a question plagued him: Would he be able to do that again?

“Is it passion? Or is it vanity? Why do I wor’ m’self so har’?” Rocky whispered to himself as he caught his breath. It took a few minutes for Rocky to be able to get up again. When he finally stabilized, Rocky dragged himself into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

Rocky finished his usual routine. Drink, smoke, eat, read, eat, drink, smoke, shower and then finally get ready for bed after smoking one more cigarette. As he lay in bed, his eyelid slowly closing, he had one final thought before he drifted away into the land of sleep.

I did it. There’s nothing to worry about tonight.

Rocky watched something falling outside the window as he shut his eye. A tear forming on the edge.

“Sleep easy.”

The first snowflakes collected on Key’s windowsill. When it would get too heavy, it would tumble off and back into the steady snowfall. The moonlight bounced playfully off of the mounds of snow, asking for somepony to come out and play. The subtle breeze brushed against the shutters and through a set of windchimes, letting a warming hum resonate into the cold of the night.

Key loved watching the snow fall. She could never get enough of it. Twirling, swinging in the darkness without a care in the world. She sipped on a slightly bitter cup of coffee, wrapped in a thick and cozy comforter. She had just finished her cinnamon roll and a special batch of snickerdoodles baked by Lyra earlier.

At this moment, Lyra walked in the front door with grocery bags. She wore a simple grey scarf with a matching hat. There was a goofy smile on her face as she put down her bags.

“What’s with the creepy face?” Key asked as she downed the last of her coffee.

“I ran into Octavia at the grocery store,” Lyra replied. Her eyes wide and

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“Oh! She looked at me and waved too! She had a really pretty scarf too, and it looked terrific on her!”

“So what?”

“Er- are you hungry?”

“No, why did you change the subject?”

“Subject? What subject?” Lyra countered

Key gave an amused look as she saw the beads of sweat running down her face.

“You like Octavia don’t you, Lyra?” Key smiled fiendishly

“N-no! I-I-I… No!” The same devilish smile remained on Key’s face as she slowly rose and walked in her room and shut the door.

“Uh oh.”

Octavia shut the door to her apartment with some difficulty. Sometimes, she wished she had a horn and magic to make her life easier, but whatever. The table rattled slightly as she placed her bags on top. The melted snow formed a small puddle around Octavia’s hooves as she took off her scarf and hung it up on a rack.

She sighed and collapsed on her couch, thinking about her busy schedule. First thing tomorrow, she had orchestra practice that would hopefully be cancelled due to the weather, then her usual lunch. After that, she could finally go to her first actual “Practice Gig” as Lyra put it.

She estimated to be home by around nine o’clock and be in bed at ten and be well rested for a well deserved day-off.

“What to do?” she said to herself, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t have practice with Lyra and the rest that day, and I don’t have orchestra practice either, so what shall I do?”

Octavia always had difficulty planning things on empty days like this. She usually didn’t have any friends to spend time with, and her only hobby was the cello and now, the bass guitar. She had attempted to ask some of the ponies in her strings group to hang out, but after a few “no’s” and a couple “I simply don’t have the time’s”, she gave up. She usually spent it just moping around her home, but this time she didn’t want that to happen.

“Wait!” she yelled, falling off of the couch. Jumping to her hooves, Octavia said, “Lyra! She’s a friend, so maybe if I ask, she’ll hang out with me.” Octavia had it locked in her mind. Tomorrow, she would ask Lyra if she wanted to hang out.

As Lyra lay in bed, she thought to herself.

Should I ask her on a date?

No, I can’t just go up and ask that. It’s too soon. Maybe ask if she wants to go shopping?

Nah, she doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy that.

I GOT IT! I’ll ask her to a movie! A horror movie! A classic move. Nice work, Lyra!

And with that final thought, she fell asleep.

Octavia read and re-read the letter she had just received. A spark ignited in Octavia’s chest once she read it for the fourth time. Tearing the small blue slip to shreds, Octavia laughed and practically ripped open the door to her closet to grab her scarf and hat. Her heart pumping practically out of her chest, she ran in no particular direction as soon as she exited her home.

“... I have no idea where Lyra lives… but I DO know where Rocky lives!” Octavia smirked as she pulled a one-eighty around a lamp post and jogged towards the drummer’s home.

Lyra knocked on Rocky’s door to return a vinyl disk she had borrowed about six months ago, but just kept forgetting to return it. Rocky opened the door with a cigarette lazily hanging out of his mouth. His eye was barely half open as he invited her inside.

“Wat do ye wan’, Lyra?” he said, smothering the cigarette. “It’s too ear’y for yer shite.” he muttered with a grin on his face.

“Okay, let me give you two useful pieces of information. One, it’s past noon. And two, I came to give you this record back,” the mint unicorn said as she handed it over to Rocky.

“Nice! tha’s a new recor’! Six months an’ twelve days. Keep it up lass!”

“Oh shut your trap, Rocky. You owe me some coffee now, nerd.”

“Huh? I owe you?? Tha’ mus’ be a joke! No, betta be a joke!”

“Okay, I suppose I’ll jus borrow another vinyl and go home!”

“You li’l… Ugh fine. I’ll make yeh some coffee.”

Octavia arrived at the tall apartment building a few minutes later and boarded the elevator. She excitedly counted the floors as the elevator rose.

“Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six!”

The elevator stopped at twenty-six and let Octavia off. There was only one apartment on this floor because it was a penthouse. She could only dream of being this rich. Her blood warmed up again from being out in the cold as she tapped her hoof against the door.

“Huh? Octavia? Wha’re yeh doin’ here?” Rocky said as he opened the door.

“I needed to know where Lyra’s house is,” she said.

“Well yeh can ask ‘er yerself. Come on in,” Rocky said, stepping to the side. Octavia entered, and to her surprise, she saw Lyra drinking from a cup of steaming coffee. Lyra turned and spit her coffee all over herself, the coffee table and the wooden floor. Mere seconds later, she realized that she had spilt extremely hot coffee on herself.

“EeeEEeee!” she yelled as she bounced up and down in a pointless manner.

“U-uh are you okay, Lyra?” Octavia asked, walking over.

“Oh! Octavia! You, uh… surprised me. heh. Yeah, I’m doing just dandy.” Lyra tried to hide the fact that she was being burned by piping hot coffee.

“Uh, doesn’t that burn?”

“Very much so.”

“Well, let me help you clean up then,” Octavia offered.

“Thanks! That’d be t-terrific!”

“Well then, I’ll get some paper towels.”

“Okay.”

“Is this a normal thing for you, Rocky?”

“Wha’?”

“Lyra spitting her coffee out?”

“Ah, yea. She’s terrible ‘bout tha’”

“So it is normal?”

“Pretty much”

“Oh”

Lyra emerged from the bathroom looking much cleaner than before. Her mane was wet, but the rest of her was pretty dry. She flipped her hair to the side, looking like some sort of Manehattan model.

“How do I look?’

Octavia stood up from the couch and smiled. “Terrific.”

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“I could ask the same for you.”

Rocky yelled from the kitchen, “I don’ know why you two are in me house!” Ignoring Rocky, Lyra continued.

“Anyway, I had something to ask you.”

“Really? Well, I had to ask you something too.” Octavia countered

“Oh, I guess it’s fate that brought us together, eh?”

“I suppose.”

“Well, you can go first, Octavia.”

“No, no, I insist. You go ahead.

“Nah, you!”

“Fine, how about the same time?”

“Okay. Three…”

“Two..”

“ONE!”

“WILL YOU HANG OUT WITH ME TODAY?”

Next Chapter