Let Me Sing You The Song of My People
Hymn of the Drunk Cello Horse
The soft, white glow of the moon poured down snow colored fur on Vinyl’s face as she mulled in her thoughts. All the lights in the room were off, but still the illumination from the city outside her window bled in through the blinds as rectangular grids of dull orange in a sea of darkness. Her fore hooves lied between her head and her pillow, while the rest of her body was eaten by the soft and comfy bed, and her eyes bored down on the high ceiling above her that rested in shadow. Her signature, purple sunglasses rested on the night stand to her right and a dresser to her left blocked her peripheral vision. Her room, as well as the rest of the large and spacious suite, was neat and clean courtesy of the maids that work for the hotel, although Vinyl could only distinguish the differences of its quality from the other hotels she had stayed at was the chocolate mint they left on her pillow.
Vinyl laid there for less than half an hour reflecting on the night. The award ceremony was a blast, despite her fears of the cross genre experiment. She was worried when she heard that the annual Modern Musicians Award ceremonies and every other genre equivalent were being forced together at Manehattan. “To promote cross musical genre harmony,” was the excuse used, but everypony knew it was a scheme to try and make more audiences listen to other ponies stuff and hopefully make more money. Every year, Vinyl goes the MMAC and sees her latest work nominated for an award, and sometimes she even wins, but this year she just didn’t see or understand how things were supposed to work out. In her invitation, she was also told to be prepared to play something. The planning committee or whoever was in charge were sure ballsy this year.
Vinyl took a deep breath in and then softly exhaled. Something just didn't feel right. She played a set at the award ceremony, she won best musical artist of the year, she got to party with all of Equestria’s best musician in celebration. Well, almost all of them. She thought back to the party. She did get caught up in the excitement and partied till her hooves fell off, but now that she thought about it, she doesn't remember one particular pony being there.
Octavia.
The earth pony cellist had gotten an invitation of her own, which was no surprise to anypony. Octavia played as first cellist in the Royal Canterlot Symphony and even played for a small quartet of her own. Her name was renowned for the skill she processed playing a stringed instrument with only her hooves. Of course she was getting invited when she is practically the face of current classical music. When you wanted to hear the best in classical, you had to go to Canterlot and pray that her concert wasn't sold out.
Octavia Philharmonica was practically Vinyl’s opposite. Whereas the ‘Queen of Strings’ was the perfect idol of prim and proper, grace and poise, Vinyl was the ‘Master of the Beat’, casual and raw, wild and untamed, or at least that’s how the public saw them. Imagine the faces of all their fans if they found out that DJ Pon-3 and Octavia were best friends. Roommates even. They shared an apartment in Canterlot, where they both have lived together for three years, that’s why they prayed to have a big suite together when they came to Manehattan.
As Vinyl reminisced about it, it all seemed pretty surreal. A couple of weird circumstances, Boom! They become friends. A couple of odd happening, Bam! They’re living together. She couldn't have possibly imagined planning all of it out, but here they were: Two musical ponies that were completely different, yet complemented each other perfectly.
Her reminiscing was interrupted by the pleasant hum and the rattling feeling of her phone vibrating on the night stand next to her glasses. She used her hooves to scoot herself against the bedpost and sat up right as she focused her horn on the phone and brought it up to her face.
One new text message
Vinyl’s face morphed from one of interest into one a mild amusement. Sure all the praise and love were great during the party, and she loved getting texts from all her friends from all over congratulating her, but after a hundred or so text, the magic starts to wear off. Still she'd be lying to herself if she ever thought it’d get old being told she’s the best musician in all of Equestria.
She looked at the text and her smile dropped. She scratched at her head in confusion, double checking to make sure if she read it right.
“I’m drunkk pickk me up”
Vinyl had gotten this before from one or two friends in the past, but what was so shocking was that this came from the most responsible pony she knew. The phone buzzed in her telekinetic grip and she saw another text from Octavia about the address of the bar she was at.
Vinyl checked the time on her phone and was surprised it was already 3:20AM. It wasn't the matter of being up this late, because Vinyl was naturally nocturnal, but it was the fact that ‘Ms. Curfew-starts-at-10:00PM’ was drinking at that hour.
She sighed as she got out of bed and made her way for the door. Leaving her glasses in the room, she took her key card and phone, and closed the door as she made her exit.
The only sound that permeated the air of the empty Manehattan Streets were the clopping of Vinyl’s heavy hooves on the sidewalk's concrete thanks to Octavia’s added weight bearing down on her. They both had been silent for a couple minutes since Vinyl picked her up, though the unicorn was sure that the only reason for that was Octavia slipping in and out of consciousness
Finding Octavia’s bar was pretty easy since it was pretty close by, and they both visited it the day before. The gray cellist was drunk and rambling loudly to a brown, earth pony bartender as she tried to keep herself from falling over on her stool when Vinyl got there.
The barkeeper himself wasn't really paying her much mind, only staying close by to make sure she didn't do anything too stupid since Octavia was completely wasted.
The white unicorn spotted her at the bar and quickly took her friend and plopped the inebriated cellist perpendicular onto her back. It was a bit of an awkward struggle thanks to Octavia's drunken protest, but she managed to nod to the brown stallion, give him her thanks, and set off for the street to bring her friend back to the hotel without to much of a struggle.
And now she was trotting down empty streets on her way back to the hotel. The sky night was barely lit at this hour for how active the city usually was. It’s in the short hours just before dawn that the city is calmest. And now the sidewalks were lit only by the spaced out street lights and the full moon in the sky.
Finally, combating the silence that echoed around the two ponies Octavia spoke up, “Vinyl?”
She answered Octavia’s call, “Yeah, Octy?”
“Vinyl, do you know that shong?”
For a second, Vinyl was waiting for the cellist to follow her question up with a description, but it seemed her friend needed prompting, “Wanna tell me how it went?”
“Oh, okay, it goes like this,”
The drunk cellist started bobbing her head to an invisible beat before starting to sing her mystery song, “Boop,”
‘Boop?' The unicorn thought, 'Is she really going to…’
“boop, beep boop buh boo, *hic* ba aba da da boop…”
Octavia kept extending her fore hooves to play an imaginary keyboard while “playing” the song for a minute, nearly falling off of Vinyl's back a few times, before she opened her eyes and looked to DJ’s face, “That shong. What’s the name of that shong?”
Vinyl thought on it for a second, genuinely trying to think of a song similar to the one her drunken roommate was “playing.”
“Heh, well, I sorta recognize that,” Vinyl chuckled, giving up on her search for the song in her mind, “But I don’t remember.”
“It’s okay,” Octavia said, looking off to the distance. She solemnly tried to muster up a somber mood for herself, but kept failing whenever her hiccups kept returned; which was fairly often, so after about three tries she decides to just wing it.
“Vinyl, I gotta *hic* tell you something.”
“Lay it on me,” Vinyl said, though was totally ready to play along with anything her friend was going to say.
“Vinyl, I gotta tell ya, I respect you.”
This took the DJ by surprise, “Wait, what?”
“I respect you Vinyl, a lot.”
“Well, uh, thanks I guess.” She had never gotten praise from the cellist before, so she really didn't know how to go about thanking her.
“No, no, really. I mean I think you are the best, well I mean maybe not the best but like…” Vinyl could feel Octavia's brows furrowing in concentration, “you're the best at like all music. I mean, I play an instrument and stuff, but I try to hard to - *hic* - to make everything work.” She took a moment to readjust on Vinyl's back before continuing, now settled in a position that put her head closer to Vinyl's.
“Buh you just always make everything nice. Like, not make it nice, but just make it show everything that it is bootiful. You make everything so aweshume. You make everypony so happy and alive,”
Octavia nuzzled Vinyl’s neck, “Even a stick in the mud like me.”
‘Okay Vinyl, breathe. Yeah that’s good, now move your hooves; just keep going.’
“You just make everything so alive and I just love getting caught up in all of your youness. I just love findin' myself tappin' to the beat of your songs. I stop myself because I don't want you to see, but really, I just love it all. That’s why I was kinda miffed when you got the award for the best instead of me. I just forgot how much fun you were for awhile.”
“So I gotta tell you now, I really respect you as a *hic* musician. Like, you're a great friend and you got a hot flank,” a faint blush rushed across Vinyl's face, “but I respect you too.”
It was then that Vinyl finally trotted through the big, automatic sliding doors of their hotel, and into the warm lobby and out of the brisk streets. As they trotted into the nearly empty lobby, Octavia still found one pony present and practically yelled over to the pegasus mare at the front desk, ““Hiya miss front desk person maam!”
The desk mare was startled to say the least.
“Octy shush,” vinyl said in a hushed tone.
“Don’t you shush me!” Octavia protested
“Octy please.”
“No! I shall not be silenced for I am Octavia!”
“Octy, please, I don’t want you waking ponies up.”
“Well maybe for a kiss,” she said with a tone of genuine consideration.
“...”
Octavia giggled at stunned unicorn's response.
They reach the wide elevator doors and Vinyl quickly called for a elevator. Luckily, one was already on the first floor and she swiftly walked in to avoid the assumingly smug look the mare at the front desk was bound to be giving her. She sighed in relief at the fact that Octavia no longer had an audience to perform shenanigans with and pressed a button for their suite floor.
The elevator ride was short, but it definitely wasn't quiet. A song playing in the elevator had apparently reminded Octavia of another song she had heard in the bar, which she of course asked Vinyl about and began to “sing” again.
Luckily, when they got out, Vinyl managed to persuade the still drunken mare to stay quiet until they got to the room.
“Oh thank Celestia...” Vinyl sighed, sliding down the door after shutting it close, thankful to have the cellist inside and quiet.
“I win!” Octavia shouted.
“Well at least she's inside...” Vinyl mumbled.
“Oh, I've got a game to play Vinyl, let’s play “boop the silly pony.”
“Wait, what?” Vinyl arched a brow.
Octavia landed a hoof on Vinyl's nose with a drunken sounding:
“Boop”
Octavia giggled incessantly and dashed out of the suite and down the hall, only to be met by a hallway trashcan and to be knocked over, landing face first and flank up.
Vinyl watched her for a moment to see if she would get up again, but it looked like she was out for the night. Vinyl let out a little chuckle as she got back up and walked over to her, giving her a little poke followed by another chuckle.
She bent over and propped the unconscious, though perfectly fine, cellist on her back and walked over to her room and opening the door. She took Octavia over to her room and tucked her into bed. Vinyl herself starting feel fatigued went to her own room and jumped into bed. As she pulled up her covers and close her eyes, she smiled to herself. As unconsciousness took her, Vinyl thought, "It was a good night."
Author's Note
Waiting on those Darude - Sandstorm comments.
