One Foot Before The Other
"The remnants of our very existence will be written in to the details of all future generations. We shall remain forever as part of this magical world. In the memories and minds of those people whom we love and those who loved us. Our lives are nought but a series of events that shape our mortal form leading to an inevitable death. I see this event as nothing to fear. Because when this body dies, it will be buried or burned and infinitesimal amounts of myself will creep into the ether, infecting the rest of our living world with my ideas, my beliefs and my soul."
Octavia set her pen down on the table in front of her. The surface was littered with various papers covered in musical bars and notes. Occasionally a few of them would be adorned with various doodles. She sighed deeply and hung her head. "Perhaps, It is best." She looked up at the sink and got up from her chair. Footsteps echoed throughout the empty home in Canterlot as she approached the sink and turned it on. She swiped an empty glass from the counter beside her and placed it under the running water, filling it to the brim. Octavia flipped the water off and brought the glass to her lips. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the cool sensation of the water in her mouth.
She dropped the almost empty glass back into the sink. She glanced over at the clock. 02:33 AM. "How long has it been since i've slept?" She whispered to herself.
*bzzzzzzzz*
*bzzzzzzzz*
Her phone was buzzing on the table. She looked over at it and slowly approached it. The caller ID flashed "L". She set the phone back down and quietly walked over to her dark living room, turning the dining room lights off as she went. Her canterlot home was pitch black, save for the glow from the street lamps outside. She jumped on the soft, purple couch and laid on her back, staring at the ceiling. Octavia let her mind wander. These days sleep eluded her more often than it used to. Tonight was no different. Her mind was racing over different thoughts. Music, bills, shows, friends, food, her lack of sleep. She rolled over on to her side, facing the window that faced the front lawn and the road in front of her house. A few random people passed by in front of her place, laughing with each other. Occasionally one or two would stop to read the name on the mailbox. Hours passed as she watched the world turn in front of her.
06:25 AM
Octavia was sleeping peacefully on the couch when a knock came upon her door. She rolled over and faced the back of the couch. The knock came once again. Octavia's eyes fluttered open and she raised her head up enough to see the front door. "Do you mind! I am trying to get some rest." She said sternly to whomever was on te other side of the door.
"Octavia! Come open this door right now!" A familiar masculine voice shouted from the other side.
"Lucky? What are you doing here." Octavia got up, shook her head, rubbed her eyes and tried to fix her dishevelled hair. She buttoned up her tan vest, fixed the collar on her white button up shirt and brushed away at her black skirt as she walked across the wooden floor and opened up the door. ".... hey." She greeted the man on her doorstep. He was slightly taller than Octavia. Wearing green jeans and a black button up shirt with a green tie emblazoned with a four leaf clover. His hair was gelled into a black mohawk. He pulled off his sunglasses, revealing his bright green eyes. "I... I saw your texts from last night. Are you ok?"
"Lucky, i'm ok. I was just.... upset" Octavia hung her head.
"Octavia... you said you were going to..." He jumped forward and threw his arms around her, pulling her in to a tight hug. "Don't worry us like that. The whole band wanted to stop recording to come over here."
Octavia was fighting back tears. "I'm ok Lucky, really. Where is the rest of the band anyway?" She tried to change the subject as she pulled away from the hug. "Come in, come in I'll make coffee or something."
Octavia's kitchen was a mess to say the least. There were dirty dishes stacked on the counters, the table was completely covered in her notes and her prized cello was taking up most of the empty space on her counter. Lucky looked around "Wow Octy. You really let this place go. What happened?" He took a seat at the table and picked up one of her papers.
"I've just been really busy." She searched her cupboards for a clean coffee mug and the ingredients to make coffee. "I don't have any cream or sugar. I hope that's ok."
Lucky read one of her notes. "Yeah I can see you've been busy. And black is fine." He tossed the paper back on the table. "So about last night."
"What about it?" Octavia flipped on the coffee maker and turned around. She stood facing Lucky, propping herself against the counter with her hands. She raised an eyebrow
"Well... if I may quote you." Lucky cleared his throat and pulled out his phone, "'I'm sorry for everything, L. I hope you live a long and happy life. I just want you to know that you've always been a good friend and I'm just sorry. Goodbye.' Now what does that sound like to you?" Lucky put his phone on the table and leaned back in his chair.
"It sounds like a very desperate cry for attention." Octavia tried to give him a convincing smile which failed horribly. She dropped the expression and hung her head.
"It sounds like a damn suicide notice, Octavia. The guys at the studio convinced me to leave you alone and that you just needed space. We were in the middle of finishing our new album and at the time I agreed with them. But I got up this morning after an hour of sleep and realized I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't check up on you." He leaned forward on the table and put his face in his hands.
"I'm so sorry Lu-"
"I thought you were dead." He looked back up at her. Octavia avoided his gaze. "I broke about a dozen laws getting her from the other side of Manehattan this morning. Do you know how long of a trip that is?" Lucky got up from the chair and walked around the table. "I was s-" he stopped suddenly as something on the table caught his eye. He reached over and lifted up a jacket that was lying there. "Oh god, Octy." On the table was a pile of various colorful pills and a bottle of expensive vodka, unopened, along with a long note written in perfect cursive script on tear stained paper. He dropped the jacket. "Octavia. Why?"
"I'm.... broken, Lucky." She pushed herself away from the counter and crossed her arms. "For weeks now, i've just been... broken. I can't write, I can't play. I cant go out, I can't do anything. I'm lonely and I feel like an utter failure. I'm not as well liked as I used to be. Ever since you went on that tour and Vinyl got that deal in Manehattan, i've been completely alone. I've had no shows, no record sales. Nothing. I just thought it would be easier to... to... oh god what was I thinking!" She brought a hand up to her mouth as she struggled to get the words out and tears started dripping from her face on to the floor.
Billie's jaw dropped. "Failure? YOU? Octavia Melody? a failure?" He chuckled. "Get your head up Octy." He walked over to her and placed a hand under her chin. "C’mon, chin up." He lifted her head and looked her right in the eyes. "You were my inspiration to get in to music." He smiled, Octavia matched him. "I think I know the problem." Her turned around and walked back over to the table. "C'mere!"
Octavia wiped a tear from her eye, she followed him over to the table. Lucky turned around "Hey now! Don't forget the coffee!" Octavia smirked and brought 2 cups of coffee over to the table. "Sit, sit. Let me show you something." Lucky pulled a chair up next to him and piled some of Octavia's sheet music in front of him.
Octavia sat down. "My music?" She asked.
"Yeah, look at this stuff. What IS this?" He grabbed one of the papers. "Slow, boring." He tossed it aside and grabbed another one. "BOOOOORING!" He tossed that one aside as well.
"It's classical music, Lucky! It's not supposed to be exciting!" She pushed his shoulder. "Don't be an arse."
"Yeah I know it's classical and whatnot. But haven't you heard of the 1812 overture? They used CANNONS in that shit! THAT was exciting!" He slapped his hand down on the table.
"Well, true but not everyone can be Tchaikovsky!" She corrected him.
"Octavia. Do you have fun with this? Do you HONESTLY enjoy this?" Lucky asked. Octavia's brow furrowed.
"I will have you know that this is my passion! I mean... yes it's kind of turned into a job. But classical will never go out of style! While that.... 'Punk Rock' or whatever it is that YOU play is going out of fashion. Just like every type of music that uses guitars!" She stuck her nose up in the air, crossed her arms and harrumphed.
"Oh since when have I ever cared about fashion?" Lucky raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever honestly listened to any punk rock?"
"ME? listen to that... that... immature, drivel! Never!" Octavia laughed. Lucky gave her a pouty face. "I mean. I respect your genre. I'm sure it has it's merits... somewhere. But i've never bothered to give it a try." She sunk her shoulders and felt bad for insulting a fellow artist's work. "Sorry. Wait a second! You just insulted m-"
Lucky smiled. "Well then it's settled!"
"What is?" Octavia wondered.
"I have a show tonight at 8. Doors open at 7. It's at Pop's. Not too hard to find. It's going to be a good show. We'll play some new songs. I'll swing you a good ticket with backstage privileges. You'll have fun!"
"Well... I don't know." Octavia was hesitant to be seen at a place like Pop's.
"What else do you have to do tonight? You just said you haven't been doing anything for a few weeks!" Checkmate. "I mean... if you don't want to be my friend, then...."
"I really hate you Lucky." Octavia chuckled. "Ok, i'll show up."
Lucky hugged her tight. "You won't regret it Octy!" He got up and walked over to the other room and jumped on her couch. "I'll be over here if you need anything!"
Octavia walked over to the entrance to the living room. "Uhhhhh, what are you doing?"
"Oh, i'm not leaving you alone today. SO i'll be right here watching TV!" He swiped the remote from the end table and pointed it at the TV in front of him. "You're free to join me."
"I'm fine, Lucky. You don't need to stay." She said, a little confused.
"Well, yeah, I know. But i'm tired, I need a nap.... oh and the paparazzi usually starts stalking me around 7 AM. I'm sure you wouldn't want pictures of me walking out of your place looking all roughed up and tired plastered all over the Canterlot Times." He gave her a sly smile. "Or would you?"
"Oh my god Lucky. Go to sleep. I'm going to go take a shower." She turned around and waltzed over to the stairs.
"Take some pictures for me!" he called up after her as he turned on the TV.
"SHUT UP!" Octavia yelled back down at him.
Lucky laughed and flipped over to the news. There were a few stories about that princess chick from Ponyville, some decrees from Celestia, the weather. Then the entertainment segment came on.
"Up and coming punk rock star, Lucky Strike, was seen this morning boarding a train to Canterlot! Unconfirmed sources are coming in from his band mates that he went to go visit Classical music legend, Octavia Melody! Now over to Shimmering Diamond for more analysis on this story!" Lucky sat up. A woman wearing a bright pink jacket plucked a pen out of her brown, curled hair on the TV as she was sitting in a chair at the news studio talking to the Canterlot Entertainment Anchor, Yellow Journal. "Well, Journal! Rumors are circulating among ponies that were present at a recording session at Mana Record that the GREAT artist, Octavia, had a breakdown!"
"Shit...." Lucky stared wide eyed at the TV.
"Rumors of a possible suicide attempt by the classical cellist were circulating early this morning but were deemed to be unfounded when Lucky was seen entering the musicians house in Canterlot just moments ago!" The people on the screen gave eachother a little snarky look. "Well, I wonder what that could mean!" The anchorman said with a hint of a sexual undertone.
"Oh fuck off!" Lucky turned off the TV and got up from the couch. He made his way over to the window and pulled the blinds apart a bit to peer through them. Outside of the house there were several people with cameras pointed at the home. There must have been at least a dozen of them. A few of them, Lucky recognized. There was one with a video camera looking like he was going to set up for a news broadcast. There were professionals and obvious amateurs, one or two tourists and, of course, Perez. That fat douchebag from that slimey TV show. He must be desperate for a story if he showed up here personally.
Lucky took off his tie and retrieved his phone from the kitchen. He held it in front of him and dialed a number. The phone rang several times before a gruff voice on the other line answered. "Hey, Fixit! it's Lucky... yeah.... yeah it's the paparazzi again.... do you know where Octavia lives?..... NO GOD DAMNIT! We're not screwing.... You owe me a favor for playing at your daughters cutecienera!.... Just... can you adjust the water pressure to blow out a fire hydrant or something then come out and-... yeah.... alright, cool, thanks man! Tell your daughter I said hi, i'll swing you some autographed merch for her or something for this bro!" Lucky hung up the phone and returned to the window, a wide smile on his face.
He's learned all the tricks when it came to dealing with the media. He watched the groups of cameramen outside snapping pictures of the house. Lucky focused on a fire hydrant that sat right in between two groups of the ponies. It stuck out of the cobblestone sidewalk, perfectly bright red.
"yeah that will do...." He muttered to himself. Minutes passed as the ponies outside snapped pictures. The hydrant slowly started to vibrate. Suddenly it burst at the top. A shimmering geyser of water erupted from the top of it and rained down on top of the ponies that crowded the street. He laughed as they screamed and ran away. Lucky's friend, Fixit, had adjusted the water pressure in their grid to give the hydrant extra pressure. Now, the spout of water will last a few minutes while Fixit's team could come out and close down the street in front of the house for the rest of the day.
Lucky spoke to himself. "I burned a silver bullet for you Octavia. You owe me...." He yawned and stumbled back to the couch. "For now though, time to sleep." He fell down on to the purple sofa and started to doze off. As he slipped into slumber he couldn't help but notice how good the couch smelled.
