Faded Note Blues

*****

Faded wandered into the recording booth, glancing over at the piano player sitting at his stool in one corner.

She did manage to give a smile to Technical Feats, but it felt empty and false.

The stallion, sitting behind the sound proof pane of glass, licked his lips nervously, before reaching over to press one of the many buttons that littered his console.

“Hello there, Lofty,” he said, his voice coming out tinny through the conical speaker perched in one corner of the roof. “You all rested and ready?”

He tried to affect a lighthearted tone, but Faded could tell he didn’t really mean it. His voice was too strained and his smile too wide for anypony to be fooled by it.

“Morning, Tech,” she replied, arching her back as she plopped down onto the lumpy pillow they provided her, beginning to fiddle around with the hanging microphone.

“Oh, and… congratulations, I guess, on After You’ve Gone,” he continued, he looking away from her, his ears pressed down against his head. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it was a great song. It deserves the top spot on the Billboard.”

Faded didn’t respond, already occupied by her vocal warm ups. At least in the music, her pain became something better, something that didn’t hurt so much.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tech sigh, though he had already released the button to the communication system.

As she readied herself, the other few members filled in, the trumpet player and a saxophonist, though all Faded gave them was a tiny incline of her head. They too joined in her warm up, the little group of musicians striking up a mess of notes that had no place being together at the same time.

“Okay guys.” Tech’s voice filtered into the booth. “Time to make some music.”

Startled out of her brief reverie—though the clock read it having been half an hour since she had arrived—Faded looked back over at the booth. Savvy Dealer was in there now too, animatedly talking with Tech. She might not have been able to hear them but she was no fool, she noting how they kept gesturing over at her.

Just then the pair looked over at her properly, they freezing as they noticed her looking. At least Tech had the decency to blush, but Savvy didn’t blink.

She just prodded Tech in the side and said something to him, it being simple enough for Faded to catch onto the command.

Get her started.

“Now we all know what we need to do here today,” Tech said, again leaning on the speaker button. “Faded, do you have your lyrics?”

“Don’t need them dearie,” she said, tapping the spot over her heart. “Got it all right here. The pain helps to make me remember.”

“Err… alright,” Tech replied. Savvy just rolled her eyes. “Carry on then.”

It was studio policy to have the lyrics of the song in easy view of the singer if they hadn’t written it. A musician had their sheets, why wouldn’t a singer do the same? But to Faded, she had studied and practiced that song so much she could repeat it in her sleep, and probably cry at the same time thanks to the emotions it conjured up.

She wasn’t even sure she had done the right thing, taking on a piece not written by her. The blues flowed through her now and the living room—she couldn’t bear to use Silver’s music room—was littered with scraps of half-finished lyrics. She’d barely slept or eaten for two weeks, but she had created. After You’ve Gone had been the first, but more would come.

The writer had begged, pleaded with her to sing his song and she had relented. At least somepony should’ve gotten their dream to come true from the whole mess.

Glancing over her shoulder at the musicians, all of whom looked uncomfortable, Faded gave them a nod. Each one briefly shuffled their papers, before the pianist began.

Staring ahead at the blank wall, Faded counted down the bars. It was a surprisingly long musical intro, all of the instruments getting a decent showing before her voice came in.

But they inched towards her, their crescendo building and just as their swell reached its peak, she opened her mouth. She knew just the right note, just the right pitch. She needed a high note and if she did it just right then perhaps it could heal somepony who hurt like her.

A sob came out.

Faded didn’t even know how it happened, but she was bawling her eyes out, sobbing into the microphone as she rocked back and forth on the cushion.

Without warning, she was grabbed by her shoulders.

“Lofty? Speak to me,” the voice said, it strained with worry. They were gentle holding her, but they weren’t right. Only Silver got to hold her and he was all she wanted. He cheated on her, but Celestia she still loved him. It only made it hurt more.

“Get off me,” she gasped, swatting the reaching hooves away from her. Her hoof collided with a firm thwack, drawing a gasp of pain out of her assailant, who only then did Faded realize was Technical.

“Take it easy High,” he said, still reaching out to her despite the dribble of blood that ran down his hoof. “Just take it easy.”

The hoof touched her again, and that proved to break the camel’s back. Lashing out with all of her earth pony strength Faded’s hoof connected with Tech’s gut, the air busting out of his mouth.

Though the stallion tried to stay upright, all he could manage was a pitiful wheeze, before doubling over, clutching at his stomach.

Finally freed from his unwanted touch, Faded leapt to her hooves and bolted for the door, assailants bearing down at her, though their faces remained blurred by her tears. The rest of the musicians had scampered out of her way, clutching their precious instruments to their chests when possible.

Faded didn’t even know what happened but the next thing she remembered was staring down at the river that passed through the city, watching the cool blue waters bubble away happily. For a time she considered jumping in there, to end all the heartbreak and pain, but every time she took a step closer to the edge, she took one back a moment later. That battle, between self preservation and her sorrow lasted for hours, but just as night fell she pulled herself away.

Never again did she visit that river, the emotions it conjured up were too strong for her to bear. Not two days after her own encounter with the river, it claimed another victim, her own husband, who dived in and never resurfaced.

*****

“That was the last time I ever sang,” Faded said, her mouth set in a hard line. “I’d given my all to the blues by that point and it left me broken and alone.” She let out a low chuckle. “You know, it’s funny really. When I was a filly, I was obsessed with blues singers. I told everypony at school that when I grew up, I was going to be heartbroken.”

Vinyl chuckled nervously. “For real? What kind of kid says that?”

“This kind of kid Vinyl,” Faded shot back, tapping a hoof against her chest. “Besides, we all got strange ideas like that when we were young.”

“I guess so,” Vinyl said uncertainly, before grinning widely. “I wanted to be an aeronaut.”

“Of course you did,” Faded deadpanned. “Truly as original as I have come to expect from you Ms. Scratch. I suppose you also considered becoming a sky pirate at some stage too.”

“Well I might have,” the DJ replied, scratching her cheek, still smiling. “What of it?”

“Nothing, I suppose,” Faded said. “Seems you turned out more well-rounded than me.”

“Aw, you’re not that bad,” Vinyl said, not one hundred percent certain she should’ve been happy at the compliment or worried at the turn Faded’s mood was taken. “You got a bad lot. You took it rather well if you ask me.”

Though Faded laughed, it was bitter. “You don’t know the half of it Vinyl. You know that Faded isn’t even my real name.”

“Really?” Vinyl gasped, hoping her acting was holding up. That whole Lofty business had made it pretty clear to her something stunk with that.

“Oh lordy Celestia, pray tell, you don’t say,” Vinyl said, her voice high and breathy, while she fanned herself with a hoof.

“Well at least you didn’t say you wanted to be an actress,” Faded groused, shaking her head in disbelief. “Why in Equestria did you put on that stupid accent?” She held up a hoof. “You know, I don’t want to know.”

“So what’s your real name?” Vinyl asked, deciding to just rip that band aid off. She’d held herself back for ages by that point and she had to at least be a little forward. She wasn’t made of stone.

All the response she got was Faded humming the tune to the song as she had before. It was only then that Vinyl realized that it had always been the same one, After You’ve Gone.

“Lofty!” she shouted, too drained to bother being polite anymore. “What’s your name?”

To the old mare’s credit she didn’t flinch, just turned to regard Vinyl with cool stoicism. “How about you try that again?”

In response Vinyl rolled her eyes out of habit, forgetting they weren’t hidden like usual.

Faded said nothing.

“Oh, fine,” she huffed, her voice switching to a sugary sweet tone. “Ms. Faded Note, could you please, please, please tell me your real name?” To cap off the image she fluttered her eyelashes a few times.

It was Faded’s turn to roll her eyes, but she spoke sincerely. “It was High Note.”

“High Note,” Vinyl echoed, rolling the words around in her mouth to sample them. “And why did you change it?”

“It just… didn’t suit me anymore,” Faded said, shrugging. “Back before Silver, I sung without thinking. Just did it to fill up empty rooms or to make some friends smile. But after he was gone, I just didn’t do it anymore.” She nodded, as if to confirm the assertion with herself. “Faded Note suits me much better now. It’s what I am.”

“Look, High Note, can I ask you something?” Vinyl said, pointedly using her friend’s real name. It was strange to admit that High Note was a friend, but she supposed there was nothing else to call her. “How do you keep living like this? All the misery in it?”

“I suppose now I’ve got to get used to being called that again,” High muttered, she just managing to stop her lips from up turning into a smile. When she spoke again it was to Vinyl. “And I’m not sure, really. Guess I just put one hoof in front of the other and kept my head up.” She glanced down at her hooves. “And in a way, I enjoy it; reveling in my misery. It’s a comfort to me, and if it’s not there, the world just doesn’t make much sense.”

“You’re a real weirdo,” Vinyl replied, shaking her head. “I just can’t wrap my head around it. You liked it? You honest to Celestia liked hanging around inside this house for most of your life, moping about a husband that’s been dead longer than he was alive?”

Faded recoiled if struck, her eyes wide enough to show their whites. Despite her reaction, her words came out husky and low. “What choice do I have Vinyl? I have adapted. I’ve tried everything in my power to rid myself of my depression, but every time I seem to do away with it, it comes back, like a weed. I went to so many psychologists that I would’ve used up all my royalties if I’d kept going. I have volunteered in everything, from animal rescue to child care. Devoted most of my life to charity work. It gives me peace for a time, but it is not a cure.”

“You really believe that, I can hear it in your voice,” Vinyl said, looking at her friend with wide eyes.

When she got down to it she didn’t want to believe it, but she had no choice. The way High Note thrust out her chin made it clear just how serious the older mare was. To the DJ it was unfathomable, to live one’s whole life in such total misery, to give oneself so completely to one’s art that you destroyed yourself in the process.

Vinyl was not good at helping strangers, she’d know that for a long time. But there was something else she prided herself on, she was a damn good friend.

“But if that’s really the case,” Vinyl continued, forcing a wide smile, showing off her teeth. “Then I guess I’ll have to settle for being your next volunteer project.”

To prove her point, the DJ decided to do something drastic; though as she glanced at the record player, she felt a catch form in her throat.

“I guess… your music isn’t all bad,” Vinyl said, forcing the words out. “It meant something to you, and… if it helped me try and win Octavia back, it’s alright by me.”

High was silent, though she reached over to pat Vinyl’s hoof. “She’ll be lucky to have you,” she said, her eyes shimmering suspiciously.

“...Well?” Vinyl eventually said, giving the older mare a pointed look, while she struggle to keep a straight face. “Got something to say to me?”

“What’s that?” Faded replied, eyeing her up and down.

“You know,” Vinyl replied, nudging her a few times. “I say something nice, then you say something nice.”

Faded sighed, shaking her head. “Okay Vinyl, you win.” She took a deep breath. “You’re not a cocky no-good, and your music is perfectly fine. Not my cup of tea, but I can’t deny it means something to some ponies.”

“Not the best response in the world,” Vinyl said, leaning back with a smirk on her face. “But I’ll take it.”

“Haha,” High said dryly, before yawning. “Now if you’ll forgive me for being rude Vinyl, get out of my house. I’m an old mare, and frankly after today, I could sleep for an age.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going, I’m going,” Vinyl said, standing up and stretching out both of her back legs, before jamming her glasses back into place. “But seriously Lofty… thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” High replied, shooing her over to the door. “Now go on and get out of here. You’re young, and you’ve spent enough time hanging out with a washed up old mare like me.”

Vinyl nodded, heading over to the front door, but just as she pulled it open, she hesitated and looked back. “Same time next week?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” High replied, smiling. “And good luck with Octavia, I just hope you’ll let me meet her one day,” She smiled bitterly. “Or that if you ever need any advice, or Celestia forbid, a shoulder to cry on, you’ll come to me.”

The DJ winced, feeling a stab of uncertainty. She knew that the hard part hadn’t started yet, that she’d need to make sacrifices and go through some serious emotional stuff to ever stand a chance of getting Octavia back. But, Octavia was worth it all.

“Now don’t be so blue there Lofty,” she said, giving her a wink over the edge of her glasses. “After all, once it’s all done, the sun’s bound to shine.”

“Some folks can lose the blues in their hearts,” High sang back, a smile on her face. Her voice was dry and papery, rusted from disuse, but the DJ could still hear the same sad, beautiful voice under it all.

“I’ll make you proud, Lofty,” Vinyl said, giving a firm nod, before stepping out the door.

“I know you will,” the old blues singer replied.