Different Circles

by Anonymous Pegasus

Rating: everyone
Tags: Octavia, Slice of Life, DJ P0N-3, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 10176

The story of how Octavia and Vinyl gained their cutie marks.

Octavia is a young up-and-coming piano master, hailing from a Canterlot family who has bred some of the best piano players in all of Equestria.

Vinyl is a young, wayward unicorn, born in Ponyville. She's a troublemaker who loves music but can't find her instrument.

They come from entirely different circles. So how is that the two ponies who loathe eachother at first sight, come to help eachother gain their cutie marks; and maybe even become friends?

Published 2012-05-24 10:34:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-05-24 10:34:02 UTC

First Impressions

The young unicorn walked down the hallway, her hooves clopping gently against the polished material. It was musical school, and Vinyl had been held back after class, again.

Vinyl was young yet, and like many of the fillies at the school, she had not yet acquired her cutie mark. Her mane was spiked, brushed forwards on one side in a very ‘cool’ style. Both her mane and tail were dyed an electric, alternating blue colour scheme. Her body was a very light blue colour, and her eyes were perpetually hidden behind a ‘cool’ pair of purple, reflective glasses.

The last of the teachers were on their way home, and Vinyl had been told to show herself out. She had been held back after class so many times now that it was becoming a common occurrence. And it was now a common occurrence for her to also sneak into the music room and play with the instruments.

It wasn’t her fault. Really. She was just different. She definitely loved music, with all her heart. All kinds of music, from all genres and all instruments. But she just couldn’t find an instrument that was really her. How could she dedicate herself to a single instrument if so many other instruments existed that she wanted to try?

And so Vinyl took advantage of her after-hours punishments to sneak into the music room and play with the instruments to her hearts content. She knew that music was her special talent, somehow. But finding her instrument was becoming...bothersome.

As she strode down the hall, however, she heard the faint tinkling of a piano.

Vinyl’s steps slowed, and she crept to the door of the music room, peeking through the glass window set into the door. A young brown pony was standing, stiff-backed at the piano, hooves flicking across the keys of the piano. She was playing an old classic song, from over a hundred years ago, eyes narrowed at the piece of paper in front of her. She was talented, but she looked as though she wasn’t much enjoying what she was doing. Her brow was furrowed deeply, and she was concentrating so hard. She slipped on a note, and scowled at the page, slamming her hooves down on the keys in frustration, before taking a deep breath, composing herself, and starting from the beginning again.

Having a good look around, and finding no teachers, Vinyl pushed through the door, ignoring the other pony and tilting the saxophone towards her, placing her mouth over the end and blowing firmly as she began to work the buttons on the saxophone, putting out a jaunty little tune that clashed horribly with the design of the saxophones range of sound.

The sounds from the piano stopped immediately, and the earth pony at the keys rounded on Vinyl, scowling. Her accent was very upper class and posh, as she said haughtily, “Would you please stop that? Some of us are trying to practice.”

Vinyl lifted her lips from the mouthpiece and leant the saxophone back against the stand, raising a brow at the earth pony behind her glasses, asking tardily, “What did you think I was doing?”

“Certainly not practicing. That godawful racket belongs in a madhouse, not a music school,” she responded with a scowl, waving a hoof dismissively, turning back to the piano. “If you intend to continue such horrid practice, I suggest you take it to another room.”

“I like this room,” Vinyl stated flatly, scowling herself as she moved over to a recorder, rubbing a hoof down the length of smooth plastic, touching each hole in turn. “The acoustics are better than the other rooms.”

“You mean you actually come here regularly? And didn’t just wander in off the street?” the uppish pony asked, turning to regard the unicorn again.

“Yup.” Vinyl responded, giving the recorder a tentative blow, working a note scale from lower to high and then back down again, before adding, “I would ask you the same question, as I’ve never seen you here.”

“I am from Canterlot,” the earth pony said, lifting her nose slightly and then turning back to the piano, touching a key gently, causing the piano to chime. “Our music school burned down. So we’re being sent here.”

“Do you always practice at such stupid hours?” Vinyl asked, raising a brow and moving over to the cello.

“I am making sure I am perfect,” the haughty pony responded, drawing herself upwards and puffing her chest out.

Vinyl snorted a moment at that. “You’ve got a long way to go.”

“I beg your pardon?” came the quick response, offended.

“I heard you hit the wrong keys earlier. You didn’t seem happy about it,” Vinyl stated, gently drawing the cello bow across the strings, tilting it just so to get the right note.

“I need it to be perfect,” the pony hissed, her eyes narrowing.

“Well...it won’t ever be perfect like that,” Vinyl said with a shrug of her shoulders, drawing the bow across the strings once more, before placing the bow aside, moving on to the harp and plucking at the strings.

“What are you doing? Have you never seen these instruments before?!” the pony demanded of Vinyl.

The unicorn raised a brow, and then shook her head slightly, drawing the bow over the strings in a rapid series of quick notes, making the violin hum a happy tune. “I’ve used all these instruments before...still can’t decide which ones I like the most though.”

“Just pick one!” the earth pony cried, clapping her hooves over her ears with a sound of suppressed anger.

“I haven’t chosen my perfect instrument yet...I like them all,” Vinyl said dismissively. “You’re not going to be here every afternoon, are you?”

The haughty earth pony grit her teeth, and flexed her hooves slowly, before replying tardily, “Not if you’re going to be here, no.”

“Oh goodie!” Vinyl said with a smile. “I’ll have the room all to myself.”

“You are insufferable Miss Unicorn,” came the flat statement.

“I’m not miss,” Vinyl rebuked, wrinkling her nose. “I’m Vinyl. Vinyl Scratch. Mind you remember that name, because I’ll be famous one day.”

The earth pony scowled back at the unicorn for a moment. “And I am Octavia. Remember that name because I will be a much better musician than some riff-raff unicorn.”

“Riff-raff?” Vinyl asked with a soft, derisive snort. “I’ll take riff-raff over some high-and-mighty snooty pony.”

“Very well, Vinyl Scratch,” Octavia said, waving a hoof, “I am kindly requesting that you take your woesome musical skills to another room so I can practise. As I cannot move the piano.”

The young unicorn peered at the earth pony for a moment, a smirk spreading across her face as she sat down on her rump and shook her head, adjusting her glasses. “You’ll just have to practice while I’m watching. I hope you don’t mind an audience...or pressure.”

Octavia narrowed her eyes, scowling and huffing softly, before tossing her mane and turning back to the piano, staring down at the notes on the paper. She reached up and started the metronome, and then began to very purposefully hit the keys. She was perfect. Perfect form, perfect timing, not a single note missed in the entire complex sequence.

Vinyl merely watched her, expression hidden behind her reflective glasses, head canted a little bit to one side.

Octavia triumphantly hit the final keys, and then turned a smug face towards Vinyl. “...Well?”

“You’re pretty good,” Vinyl said coolly, turning to the side to trail a hoof down the length of a fiddle, plucking one of the strings to test its tension. “...But it was flat.”

“...Flat,” Octavia repeated, her tone affronted.

“Flat,” Vinyl confirmed with a nod, drawing the bow across the fiddle curiously for a moment, working the strings. “No passion...no fire.”

“And I suppose riff-raff like you would know anything about passion!” Octavia protested, offended.

The young unicorn just raised a brow at the angry earth pony, and then smiled. “You’re cute when you’re righteously angry.”

Octavia deflated instantly, thrown off by the words, blinking at the unicorn for a long moment, her ears splaying backwards.

“And that accent. So cute.” Vinyl continued, cooing her words sarcastically sweetly.

The earth pony bristled, turning away, stating, “I will not let your words get under my skin.”

“Too late, it seems,” Vinyl said with a smirk, putting the fiddle down and moving over to the organ instead, beginning to hit the keys.

“You are the most impossible pony I have ever met!” Octavia hissed.

“You can always leave.” Vinyl said, making the organ vibrate out a slow, sad melody.

“Fine!” Octavia huffed, turning on her hooves and stalking out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Vinyl just shook her head, pressing the keys on the organ, giggling to herself, “High class and high strung.”

Instrument

Vinyl hummed softly, tilting her head from side-to-side as she kept in time with the metronome and her own internal rhythm, working the bow over the violin strings, wiggling her hoof against the string to give it that little warble. She winced as the bow screeched on the string as she twisted it the wrong way.

“No, no, Vinyl. You’re still doing it wrong,” her music teacher said, for what had to be at least the hundredth time. That afternoon.

Vinyl sighed, shaking her head and setting aside the violin before her teacher could correct her stance. “I guess this isn’t my instrument, either.”

Her teacher sighed and shook his head. “Vinyl. You change your instruments every other week. You’ll never get good at a single instrument if you keep swapping.”

The young unicorn nodded once, pursing her lips. “But...I want to find my one true instrument. And these...none of these feel like it.”

“At this rate Vinyl...I’m beginning to think you don’t belong here,” the stallion said with a shake of his head. “You can’t just stay here swapping instruments. You’ve been through all of them already. Twice.”

“I know,” Vinyl said, frowning down at her hooves. “But when I find my perfect instrument, I’ll know it.”

The teacher sighed and shook his head at her slowly. “You’re impossible. Arrogant. And a trouble maker. But I can’t help but like you, kid.”

“Well thanks. I feel better now,” Vinyl stated.

The teacher held up a key, jingling it in front of her. “If you’re going to be like that, then I won’t give you the key to the front doors.”

Vinyl peered up at the key for a moment, before shrugging, looking away, her tone dismissive, “And why would I want that? It’s not like I don’t spend enough time here during the day.”

“I can always just forget about it,” her teacher said, beginning to draw his hoof back.

Vinyl swiped the keys from his hoof before he could put them away. “No no. I can use some rooms for a party if I get bored.”

“Now you can stop getting in trouble deliberately just to use the music room. But you’re still not going to be put in with the rest of the class,” he said, waggling a hoof at her.

“I know. I know. I’m a disruptive influence. Can I go now?” she whined.

“Very well. I...wish you luck, Vinyl. I don’t want to see you thrown out of school,” he said gently.

“You’re just worried I’ll never pick an instrument and you’ll be stuck with me forever,” Vinyl quipped as she walked towards the door.

“That too!” her teacher called after her.

Vinyl hummed to herself as she moved down the hall to the music room, pushing open the door. It seemed that now, she would be able to use the music room whenever she wanted. It still didn’t help her predicament though. She still didn’t have a instrument.

She liked the sound of the string instruments. And the wind instruments were so poignant. The flute was just beautiful. But the drums! They could put out a beat that a pony could really move to. How could anyone constrain themselves to a single instrument?!

Vinyl let the door close behind her as she picked her way over to the stand holding the string instruments, plucking at a guitar string curiously. Of course, she had already tried all of these instruments. But she had to find her perfect instrument; the on instrument she could dedicate herself to.

Really, she wanted to please other ponies with her music. Wanted to move them, make them dance, or change their moods. But all of the different instruments had their own moods already. Usually two moods; jaunty or sad. But there were so many shades of grey between them! She wanted to do all the instruments!

Vinyl sighed, and then moved over to the piano, beginning to lay out a simple, sad tune to express her feelings. It was on the lower scale, slow and sombre.

“Who wrote that?” a voice asked.

Vinyl jerked in surprise, eyes widening as she sat up suddenly, removing her hooves from the piano. Octavia was standing beside her. “Oh...it’s you.”

“Yes. Me. I don’t deserve a name,” Octavia said with a haughty huff.

“Octavia,” Vinyl stated, shaking her head and removing herself from the piano.

“Whom composed the melody that you played?” Octavia asked of her again, brow raising. “I would like to study it.”

“Composed?” Vinyl asked, head canting to one side.

“Yes. Composed it. Surely they covered this in your classes. Or did you just wander in off the street?” Octavia asked, her tone smug and uppish.

“No one composed it,” Vinyl countered with a shake of her head. “I just...played it.”

“One does not just play an instrument. One learns an instrument and reiterates the tunes they learned,” Octavia stated in a know-it-all tone that instantly got under Vinyl’s skin.

“And how do you think that the composers made the songs? Did they read them in the stars?” she asked with pursed lips, frowning.

Octavia opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it, looking thoughtful. “I...Touché.”

Vinyl gave a smug grin in response.

“But I still do not believe that you merely...came up with a tune from thin air,” Octavia continued.

“You’ve...never done that?” the unicorn asked, giving the earth pony a patronizing look.

“I have never felt the need to press blindly on the keys of my piano hoping they make something resembling a tune,” Octavia replied uppishly, lifting her nose

“Geeze. No wonder your music is so flat,” Vinyl stated, shaking her head. “You treat music like it’s a...a mechanical process that can just be replicated.”

“You heard me play the piano earlier. You ever said yourself that I am good.” she stated smugly in response. “Therefore, my process works. It is what my family has done for generations.”

“I said it was good. But it was flat. There was no feeling to it. You’re just repeating something you heard,” the unicorn explained with a shake of her head.

“And that is how music works,” Octavia stated flatly, scowling.

“Budge over,” Vinyl said, moving to sit at the stool in front of the piano again. Octavia obliged by moving aside, pursing her lips.

Vinyl lifted her hooves, closed her eyes behind her glasses, and then began to play a series of notes, hooves bristling across the keys of the piano with purpose. Her tune melded from dark and sombre, on the low end, to higher and slower, growing gentler and soothing.

Octavia watched, trying to follow her gaze, frowning. “But...where are you reading the music from? You memorized it?”

The unicorn finished and pulled her hooves from the keys, raising a brow at the earth pony behind her glasses.

“You hit some wrong keys,” Octavia stated smugly.

“I know,” Vinyl said with a shrug. “Piano isn’t my instrument. When I find my instrument, I’ll be able to play my heart out on it.”

“That is so...stupid,” Octavia stated, shaking her head slowly. “How can you play music without a sheet? No one would listen to it. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just a riff-raff unicorn who can’t even find an instrument.”

Vinyl turned her gaze on Octavia, and the pony recoiled slightly, withering under the stare without even being able to see her eyes behind the glasses. “And the piano is your instrument?”

Octavia nodded cautiously.

“And you can’t even play a tune on it without a sheet?” Vinyl asked flatly.

“I do not need to be able to play without sheet music to be accomplished at the piano,” Octavia said with a huff, raising a hoof dismissively.

“That’s what I thought,” Vinyl said with a shake of her head, turning and heading for the door, nudging it open and letting it close loudly behind her.

As she walked down the hall, she heard a series of off-tune key presses, followed by a heavy mashing of keys and a haughty huff. And then came the presses of a familiar tune, an old piano ballad.

Vinyl just shook her head.

Party

Vinyl breathed in the air of the party. It was stale, sweaty, and contained the scents of many different ponies. But it was the ambiance she was enjoying more than that. The aura of ponies enjoying themselves, rocking to the beat of the music that the ponies on the stage were putting out. They had a bass player, drummer, fiddler and a vocalist all on stage. A live band.

The sensation of records hadn’t quite reached Ponyville just yet, and so all entertainment was live. There were talks of a single ‘turntable’ in Canterlot that a pony could put special flat discs on to to produce music. But it wasn’t a common technology yet, and definitely hadn’t made it down to Ponyville. And certainly not to student parties.

There were jugs of cider aplenty, an older ponies, all with their cutie marks, danced on the dancefloor set aside for them. It was an old-fashioned hoe-down, held in a barn outside of Ponyville.

The music reverberated in the air, in a pounding rhythm consistent with the bass, seeming to make the air itself vibrate to the beat in a joyful dance.

This is what Vinyl loved. Parties were her thing, and she was right in the thick of it near the stage, dancing with the other ponies.

Various groups mingled on the dance floor, from younger ponies like Vinyl, to older ponies who were just relieving stress that built up over the week. And then there was a very out-of-place group, with a rapidly diminishing pool of members. They were the group of ponies from the Canterlot music school, sitting at a table by themselves, not joining in with the festivities.

Vinyl of course noticed them, and noticed their members leaving the party as they found nothing to interest them. They were all high ponies, uppish, from wealthy families. They didn’t know anything about a good old-fashioned hoedown. Didn’t know how to enjoy them. To Vinyl’s mind, they would be more at home sipping cider from sparkling crystal goblets and listening to a piano than the rousing beat of this simple, chaotic music.

And then, there was only one pony left at the ‘high table’ as Vinyl had come to regard it. It was Octavia, staring at the ponies on the dance floor with a wistful expression in her eyes.

Vinyl almost felt compelled to go over and drag her onto the dance floor. Open her up a little bit to the life of a real pony. Something different from piano’s and snootiness. But then she remembered how haughty the earth pony was, and decided against it.

And so, Vinyl danced. She danced with her friends there on the dance floor, while Octavia watched on, alone, sitting at the edge of the floor. Even the loneliest of the colts around the floor didn’t bother approaching her. They knew it would be social suicide to show interest in a ‘high’ filly like her.

But the party had to wind down eventually. It was getting late; and the older ponies were shooing the younger ones off to bed. With a sigh, Vinyl slipped off the dance floor and towards the door, waving goodbye to her friends. Vinyl was actually rather popular around Ponyville, at least with the younger generation of ponies.

Octavia also moved towards the doors, wheedling her way between larger ponies to get outside where the air was fresher. The night air was cool and held a trace of moisture in its depths, cooling it even further. It was on the cusp of needing clothing, but not quite there just yet.

Octavia pushed her way through the small crowd and out into the cool night, heading towards the lights of Ponyville down the hill. Luna’s moon was out, so the path was faintly lit, just enough to avoid any rocks along the way.

Little did the young earth pony know, though, that she was being followed.

Octavia cursed ever-so-softly as she trod on a stone, pausing to kick it away into the darkness. The trees overshadowing the path here were just thick enough that the path itself was dark and hard to see.

And that was why the young earth pony walked flat into the chest of an older pony with a heavy thud, bouncing off an landing on her rump, staring up at the dark shape of the earth pony above her.

“Oh I’m terribly sorry, it’s just so dark on this part of the path,” Octavia explained helplessly, picking herself up and brushing her rump off with a sweep of her hoof.

“Yeah...I kinda noticed it was really dark down this part of the path,” the large pony said, leaning in close. A shaft of moonlight lit up his smiling face in a truly terrifying way.

“W-well...I-I’ll just be going. Excuse m-me,” Octavia said, sidestepping to move past the larger pony.

The pony deftly sidestepped to block her.

She tried to go the other side, and was neatly blocked again.

“I-I’m sorry sir, but you seem to be in my way...” Octavia said timidly, her ears splaying backwards. She looked over her shoulder towards the barn in the distance, wondering how long it would take help to arrive if she screamed.

Too long.

“That’s kinda the point, isn’t it?” the stallion asked with a grin, leaning in closer to her again. “You know...I always wondered what I’d do if I got a stuck-up little filly like you on their own, away from her snooty parents...”

Octavia swallowed audibly.

“So whatcha doin’?” came a query from a voice that Octavia recognized. Vinyl.

“I‘m deciding on what to do with this young filly...you saw her sitting on the edge of the dance floor, watching us all dance. She was judging us, she was,” the stallion said, nodding darkly.

“She isn’t worth the trouble,” Vinyl said with a shrug. “C’mon, I know where we can get some more cider.”

“You go on without me. I wanna have some fun with this filly. Never know when I’ll get some snooty filly all alone again...” the stallion said with obvious relish.

“...I’m telling you to leave her alone,” Vinyl said, her words carrying more forceful tones with them.

“I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not the boss of me,” the stallion stated flatly, taking a step towards Octavia.

Octavia recoiled slightly, considering running. But she was a musician, not an athlete or a pegasus. It wasn’t as if she would get very far.

Vinyl threw out a hoof to halt the stallions advance. “I said, no.”

“And I said I don’t care!” the stallion said, shifting and backhoofing the unicorn in the face. There was a crunch as the unicorns’ glasses broke, and tumbled away into the darkness, landing somewhere in the grass.

Soft whimpers left the unicorn, seeming sobs. And the stallion turned back towards Octavia, grinning menacingly.

But then the sob-like sounds began to resolve themselves into soft, mirthful laughter.

The stallion blinked once, recoiling slightly at the sheer strangeness of it all. He had just struck her across the cheek hard enough to break her glasses, and she was laughing?

Vinyl turned her head slowly towards the stallion, her eyes closed.

“You know. That was a bad idea,” the unicorn stated, her eyes opening as her horn began to glow.

In the light of Vinyl’s magic, Octavia caught sight of a pair of magenta eyes, before they narrowed and a blast of blue magic pummeled the stallion, sending him reeling sideways.

“Go!” Vinyl said to Octavia, as she bounded forwards and struck the stallion hard with her glowing horn, sending him sprawling out with a yelp of pain.

Octavia didn’t need to be told twice, and bounded away down the path as fast as her legs could carry her, breathing hard in both exertion and fear.

She crawled into a bush near the entrance of Ponyville, and waited to see which ponies passed. But after several long, long minutes, she didn’t see Vinyl.

A long, slow violin note trembled in the air as the young unicorn worked the bow with her hoof. Somehow, using magic to work the bow felt like cheating. At least with instruments. Her eyes were closed, and she was focusing on the sound, trying to play as her heart commanded her to. She had never been good with sheet music, but she could play almost perfectly by ear.

Her glasses were gone, lost to the darkness of the previous night, probably sitting broken, somewhere in the grass. A bruise was showing rather vividly on her cheek, but any time anypony commented, she just airily waved off the question with a ‘got stuck into the cider and fell down the stairs’.

It was already nearly night, and she was still practicing. There was a party on, but she felt no urge to go. Not tonight. And especially not without her glasses.

“Vinyl?” queried a small voice.

Vinyl lowered the violin, opening her eyes and turning her gaze towards the door, where Octavia stood uncertainly.

“Yeah?” she asked, raising a brow, but not offering a hello.

“I...I wanted to thank you...for last night...” Octavia said in a small voice, mincing into the room and standing nearby her, looking down at her hooves.

“And well you should,” Vinyl said coolly, lifting the violin bow and strumming another chord. “I mean, it’s not every night I pull dance moves like that.”

“I...but...what?” Octavia asked, confused, blinking once.

“I saw you watching me dancing. I saw you watching all of us dancing. So I showed off some of my better moves,” Vinyl explained with a shrug, beginning to strum out a new tune with the violin.

“You know what I’m talking about,” the earth pony said with a scowl. “You saved me!”

“Saved you from embarrassment, sure. I know if you weren’t so intimidated by my dancing, you would have gotten on the dance floor and made a damn fool of yourself with those snooty dance moves,” the unicorn said with a shake of her head.

“I...just...” Octavia trailed off with a shake of her head, not sure how to take Vinyl now at all. “I...Thank you, Vinyl Scratch. For not letting me make a fool of myself.”

“You are very welcome,” Vinyl responded, inclining her head towards the earth pony in a gracious nod.

“I...Found someponies glasses at the party last night,” Octavia lied, producing Vinyl’s pair of broken glasses, holding them out. Truthfully, she had spent the better part of the afternoon rooting around in the grass along the path looking for them. For being a pair of reflective glasses, they were surprisingly hard to find. “They were kind of broken...so I taped them back up.”

Vinyl paused in her music-making to peer down at the glasses, and then up at the earth pony.

“Oh score!” she said, taking the glasses and putting them on, adjusting them slightly to make them sit right. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I lost mine when I went for a tumble down the steps. Shouldn’t have been sneaking that cider.”

“Indeed?” Octavia asked, raising a brow. “One must be careful how much cider they imbibe.”

Vinyl nodded once in response, before lifting the bow again, pausing as she decided what to play.

Octavia moved over to the piano, setting her hooves on the keys.

“Would...would you like to try a duet?” Octavia offered tentatively, before she added with a touch of her proper haughty tone, “I mean, I can’t concentrate on my notes with that godawful racket you call music in the background. I can at least make you keep tune.”

Vinyl lowered the violin for a moment to look at Octavia, her expression thoughtful behind her glasses. And then she stepped closer to the piano, smiling. “I’d like that.”

Disappointment

“Can’t you just choose an instrument?” Octavia asked with a huff, staring over her shoulder at Vinyl.

The unicorn shrugged, plucking at the strings of a guitar slowly. “Nope. I’d be quite happy if I could.”

“You’ve been through three different instruments in the last half hour!” Octavia protested, scowling slightly.

“And you’ve been on the piano the entire time,” Vinyl pointed out with a shake of her head.

“Because the piano is my instrument,” Octavia replied smugly, dancing her hoof down the keys to demonstrate.

Vinyl arched a brow. “And yet you can only play sheet music?”

“Making music up is for composers. I am a musician. Not a composer,” the earth pony stated, waving a hoof.

“I’m not a composer...but I know what music I like. I can play pretty much any instrument and make up the notes as I go along. Why can’t you?” the unicorn asked, raising a brow.

“Because I never tried,” Octavia replied uppishly, raising her nose.

“Try now,” Vinyl stated, waving a hoof at the piano.

“I...I don’t know how,” the young earth pony admitted, her ears splaying.

“Put your hooves on the keys,” Vinyl said, moving up behind the other pony and placing her hooves on top of Octavia’s, and then moving them to the keys of the piano. “Close your eyes...and play.”

Octavia frowned, but did as asked, closing her eyes and letting out a long exhale, starting to play a few notes.

Vinyl slapped her hooves away from the keys, frowning. “Play something that’s you. I know that song!”

The earth ponies ears splayed backwards, and she concentrated for a long moment, hitting one or two keys, and then several in a flurry, before pausing and thinking about what to hit next.

Vinyl drew back, shaking her head. “Nono...it’s all wrong. Play what you feel.”

“I...I can’t,” Octavia said with a soft sigh, slumping in the seat. “I’m not meant to play my feelings. I play from sheets.”

The unicorn shook her head again. “Then try a different instrument until you can.”

“I...I don’t know how to play any other instruments...” Octavia admitted quietly, splaying her ears backwards.

Vinyl rolled her eyes. “I’ll teach you. C’mere.”

Tentatively, the earth pony slipped over to the unicorn, where she was standing with a fiddle held in outstretched hooves.

Octavia awkwardly took the fiddle and bow, cautiously dragging the bow across the strings, and wincing at the horrible hissing sound it produced.

“This isn’t going to work,” Octavia predicted, moving to place the fiddle back down.

Vinyl snorted, stepping up behind her and pushing her into an erect position before she could protest, adjusting her limbs. “Now, draw the bow across the strings in a flat, smooth motion.”

Octavia did so, making the fiddle tremble with sound.

“Slower. But more firmly,” Vinyl stated, lifting a hoof to guide the earth pony in her motions. “And then press on the strings with the edge of your hoof to change the pitch of the notes.”

Octavia nodded her understanding, pressing on the string with her hoof and listening to how it changed the sound, moving her hoof up and down the strings on instinct.

“You’re a natural,” Vinyl smiled, and then pressed down on the ponies elbow to make her draw the bow across two strings at once. “See, you make it move across the other strings by tilting it up or down. That way you can hit individual strings or two at once, and make different sounds.”

Octavia nodded by didn’t respond, instead experimenting with the different angles and placement of her hoof to get the correct sounds. “It sounds very odd...too high-pitched.”

Vinyl nodded, taking the fiddle from her and placing it back on the stand, holding up a violin instead.

The earth pony took the violin, and arranged it into the same position as she’d held the fiddle, getting into the correct playing pose with a little help from Vinyl, and then began to work the bow over the strings with a slow, steady stroke.

“It...it sounds very nice,” Octavia admitted with the faintest of smiles.

Vinyl nodded in agreement. “It does, yes. It suits you better than the piano.”

“The piano is my instrument,” Octavia insisted. “But...This is nice. What are the notes? I would like to play from a sheet.”

The unicorn shook her head. “I’m not telling you. Just make up something as you go.”

“You’re trying to make me move away from the piano, aren’t you?” Octavia accused, cottoning on rather quickly.

Vinyl nodded once. “You don’t like the piano. I can see it.”

“I love the piano!” Octavia protested, laying down the violin, frowning, shaking her head once. “Its range of sound is superior and the music it produces is beautiful.”

“There is a difference between liking an instrument and wanting to play it,” Vinyl stated with shake of her head.

“I...The piano is my instrument,” Octavia repeated, lowering her head a little bit. “But...I would like to learn some of these other instruments. They are...different,” she pointed at the drums, “Teach me to play them next?”

Vinyl nodded slightly, taking the violin from her and placing it on the stand, following Octavia towards the drums.

“Now these are fun. They make a whole lot of noise,” Vinyl said with a grin.

“Octavia, what are you doing?” asked a snooty male voice.

Vinyl blinked, and turned to look at the door of the music room, where an elderly unicorn wearing a monocle was standing, staring in at them.

Octavia flushed, immediately placing the guitar aside. Her tone was shy and submissive as she said, “J-just playing with the instruments, father.”

“Well stop that, Octavia. You must make sure your piano solo is perfect for tomorrow’s show,” he said, stepping into the room and wrinkling his nose at the guitar. “These other instruments are beneath you.”

Vinyl instantly disliked the other unicorn on sight. He was everything that she hated about the high-class unicorns. Upper class, posh accent, expensive suit, monocle, nose constantly in the air like there was a bad smell under his nose.

“And who is...that?” he asked, eyeing Vinyl like one might regard something they found on the bottom of their shoe.

“S-she’s just another student here,” Octavia stuttered, her ears splayed backwards. “She’s r-really nopony important.”

“Very good,” the unicorn said, turning towards Vinyl. “Begone, you. People with real talent have to practise, now.”

Vinyl’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses, and Octavia gave her a sad, helpless look, trying to apologize with her eyes.

“Whatever,” Vinyl said with a shrug, brushing roughly past the male unicorn and heading for the door.

As she stalked down the hallway, she heard the sound of a familiar refrain on the piano. An old song, colourless and flat.

The young unicorn just sighed.

The Show

“Vinyl?!” Octavia asked in a stunned whisper, wide-eyed.

She was backstage at the talent show where she was to showcase her talents with the piano and, hopefully, earn her cutie mark.

Somehow, though, Vinyl was there as well!

“That’s my name,” Vinyl said with a grin, adjusting her glasses.

“What are you doing here?!” Octavia hissed, looking around for a moment to make sure no one else had noticed her.

“Came to watch you play,” Vinyl stated calmly, shrugging. “Trying one last-ditch effort to make you play a different instrument, doomed to fail.”

Octavia splayed her ears at that, and then shook her head. Her tone was quiet as she corrected, “I only play the piano.”

“But do you enjoy the piano?” Vinyl asked, raising a brow.

“This isn’t exactly the time for this conversation!” the earth pony hissed in response. “I go on stage in fifteen minutes!”

Vinyl looked Octavia up and down for a moment, and then shrugged. “Hey, no sweat, Octy. It’s your choice.”

“Do not call me that!” Octavia hissed.

“It’s a cute name,” Vinyl said with a sly grin.

“Why are you so adamant about making me play a different instrument?” Octavia asked, scowling.

“Because...because...” the young unicorn sighed faintly, shaking her head, sitting down and peering at Octavia for a long moment. “I guess...I guess I want you to play something different because I can see you don’t like the piano. You don’t...well...I can’t explain it. But...You don’t play music on the piano. You just make sounds. Sure, it’s a tune...but it’s not music. It’s just...noise. Real music should come from the heart. I know that I want to make music that everypony can enjoy. But you’re not playing the piano for anypony. You’re trying to make music to make music. I...I can’t explain it. But I know that the piano isn’t right for you. It isn’t your instrument.”

Vinyl trailed off, shaking her head. “I...don’t know how to explain what I feel.”

“I can explain it,” Octavia said coldly, her eyes narrowing. “You’re jealous of my talent with the piano and you’re trying to make me pick another instrument I’m no good at so that I’ll fail, because you can’t stand that a pony that doesn’t fit in with your kind can be better than you!”

The young unicorn recoiled at Octavia’s tone, and the stinging words, her own tone meek as she replied quietly, “No...no it’s not that.”

“Yes it is that, Vinyl. Music doesn’t come from the heart. It comes from sheets. Or do you expect me to believe what you say over my teachers? You expect me to believe some riff-raff pony who can’t even choose an instrument? As though you know music better than them?!” she shrilled, insulted.

Vinyl recoiled further, and turned her head away, shaking it slowly. “I...I guess you’re not the pony I thought you were...”

“No. I’m not. I’m a pianist,” Octavia stated flatly, her top lip curling upwards, nose lifting.

“What is that doing here?” Octavia’s father asked as he came backstage.

“She was just leaving,” Octavia said coldly, turning her head.

Vinyl sighed softly, and turned, beginning to walk away from the two ponies with her head lowered, tears glimmering on her cheeks, trickling down from under her glasses.

“Now go out there and make me proud. Live up to your family name, Octavia,” her father said, squeezing her shoulder gently.

Octavia nodded, squaring her shoulders and walking up the stairs and on to the stage, making her way over to the piano.

Octavia sat at the piano, her hooves dancing over the keys in perfect form, brows knitted in concentration. She had to get this perfect. Perfect. It was what she was born to do.

Ever since she was a foal, she had been fascinated with her fathers piano. The sounds it could make with the gentle press of a key. The soft chiming of a beautiful melody. It was perfection.

She remembered her first time at the piano, just pressing the keys one after the other and loving the notes they produced. She could make a tiny little song, all her own. She could transcribe the beat of a butterflies wings to musical notes. The beat of running hooves to song.

Octavia’s gaze shifted to the crowd. She could see her mother in the front row, smiling, misty-eyed as she watched her daughter, proud. And her father standing off to one side of the stage, his head lifted, watching her play with a smile on his face.

And then her gaze found Vinyl, in the back row, drawn to the unicorns gaze for some reason. Her glasses were up, and even at a distance, Octavia could see the tears in her eyes. She looked sad, hurt. But most of all, she looked disappointed. Disappointed in the perfect performance being put on.

Octavia’s hoofs faltered in their keys, and a jarring note rang out. She tried to correct for it, but fumbled again, and a ripple of whispers passed through the crowd.

The young earth ponies hooves came to a slow stop as she saw Vinyl stand up, turn, and then walk away, her head lowered, dejected.

The entire room was silent, and it was in that moment that Octavia realised that she had flubbed the song. In front of everypony. Her hooves shook slightly as she stared down at the keys, and then closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly and trying to start over. A single teardrop fell from her closed eyes as she hit the wrong keys again. It wasn’t working.

A hoof touched at her shoulder gently, and she looked up with a sniffle at her father.

The unicorn looked down at her, shaking his head softly, urging her to get up from the piano. Octavia acquiesced, rising from the seat and walking offstage to a chorus of whispers and suppressed laughs from ponies delighting in her failure.

And then she was backstage again, and a new pony was on stage, playing the trombone in a slow melody.

Octavia had failed. After all was said and done, the piano was not her instrument. She had folded under pressure.

The young earth pony fled into the back of the hall, to where the instruments were stored, away from the disappointment of her parents and the accusing laughter of the crowd. She had managed to disappoint what was in truth her only friend, and her parents, in the same evening.

Octavia found herself leaning against a piano, old and forgotten, covered in dust. Gently, she pushed up the cover on the keys, revealing the smooth white and black levers that produced sound.

Gently, she pressed down on a key, listening to the soft, happy hum from the old piano.

Vinyl claimed that music came from the heart. Real music came from the heart. And all that was in her heart was sadness. She wanted to make the piano cry for her. But all she could do was play the first few notes of a song she had learned.

Vinyl was right. The piano wasn’t her instrument. She was just an automaton pressing the keys. And she couldn’t even do that correctly. She slammed the lid of the piano down and turned away from it in disgust, turning away.

The young pony nudged a large instrument as she did so, and automatically reached out to grab it. It was massive, larger than herself by a good deal. It was like an oversized fiddle. A cello, if she remembered correctly. Vinyl had taught her to play one briefly, in the whirlwind exploration of the different instruments. A bow lay besides the instrument, old, but still serviceable.

Octavia picked up the bow, and gently ran it along the strings, listening to the soft, sad sound it produced. It suited her mood. It was beautiful, but poignant.

Sniffling, the young pony hefted the large instrument towards her, turning it slightly to rest its weight against her chest, and lifting the bow, drawing it across the strings to make it create the sad note again, wanting to let the sad sound soothe her. It spoke to her sadness.

Octavia gently worked the bow in a long, slow arc across the strings, and then back again, letting the string vibrate. Automatically, her hoof pressed down on the string as she worked, deepening the note, exploring the boundaries of sound the instrument could create. She wanted to make the instrument weep. She wanted it to cry in pain like the pain in her heart.

As tears fell from her closed eyes, she began to work the bow back and forth. And then she was playing. She was pouring her heart into the notes. Some of them were wrong. She wasn’t sure what she was doing. But with each mistake, she made the melody better. She fixed the problems and moved on. She wasn’t playing for the audience, for her family, or for Vinyl. She was playing for herself. The imperfections became her. She was a broken melody, like the broken notes in the song she created. She was a pianist who couldn’t even play the piano.

Octavia poured her heart into the song. She made the cello weep for her, made it cry tears of music until the old bow broke and the melody terminated halfway through. And then the earth pony let the cello fall to the side with a crash, burying her face in her hooves and crying.

Something was wrong.

Silence. Complete silence.

And a ripple of voices.

The strings of the cello were still vibrating from its short fall to the floor, and Octavia only then became aware of the silence. It was always quiet in the back room. But this, this was different. This was wrong. There was no echo of music from the stage, no cheering of the crowd or hum of conversation. It was deathly quiet as though the entire hall had been vacated, as though the old building was holding its breath.

Octavia didn’t know how long she’d played the cello for. But it couldn’t have been long enough for everyone to have gone home, could it?

And then, came a soft ‘clop’.

And then another, and another.

Octavia heard the soft sounds of clapping, and turned her head away. Mocking claps. Obviously somepony had heard her ‘music’ and come down to make fun of her failure.

But then came more clapping, and more. And then a ripple of sound, and cheers.

Octavia opened her eyes, bewildered, staring towards the door. Sometime during her impromptu performance, a crowd had made its way to the back rooms, following the sound of her music. There were tons of them. Half of the ponies in the building must have been there!

And they were clapping, and cheering for her. Some of them even had tears in their eyes.

Octavia was confused. Her father pushed his way through the crowd of ponies, and came to her side, staring down at her, his expression unreadable.

“I-I’m sorry father...” she whispered brokenly. “I-I can’t play the piano...I failed.”

Her father nodded, and gathered her up in a hug, gently nuzzling against the side of her cheek soothingly. “It is fine, Octavia...Maybe...Maybe you are the first of the family who are destined for another instrument.”

She heard a note of disappointment in his tone, and she could only stare up at him as he drew back. A pony pressed forwards from the crowd, and tentatively moved towards her, offering her a bow.

Octavia stared up the pony, not sure what was going on, confused and drained.

“Take it,” her father said gently, and then waved a hoof at the crowd. “They want to hear you finish your song.”

Octavia stared up at her father, and sniffled slightly, trying to wipe her tears away with a hoof, taking the bow uncertainly. “B-but...the p-piano...”

Her father shook his head sadly for a moment, before saying gently, “Your cutie mark begs to differ.”

The young earth pony blinked in surprise, and then looked back at her own flank n a sort of disjointed trance, observing her own cutie mark that had appeared sometime between her coming into the back room and playing the cello.

Octavia then turned to the cello, righting it with a push of her hooves. She laid the bow gently on the strings, drew it back and forth in a test note.

Vinyl had been right. The piano wasn’t her instrument. And she had insulted the unicorn for her troubles. Vinyl had seen what Octavia herself could not. And that was how she had been repayed.

Octavia sniffled slightly, and then began to play, letting her heart tell her the notes.

Finale

Octavia looked about furtively as she dragged the heavy, covered gift into the music room of the school. It was the one place she knew Vinyl would find it eventually.

It was big, and wrapped in shiny blue wrapping paper from top to bottom, with a large red card on it saying ‘To Vinyl Scratch, From Octavia’. There was a more elaborate note inside the packaging, explaining in greater detail the young ponies thoughts and feelings on what she had done.

Octavia had deliberately come to the school on the weekend, when she knew Vinyl wouldn’t be there. She didn’t think she could face the young unicorn after their last encounter. Her own hurtful words haunted her. A gift was the only way she could possibly retain her dignity and apologize to the pony.

Once the gift was in place, Octavia moved over to the piano, gently flipping up the lid to get at the keys, stroking them softly. She pressed down a high note, listening to the chime, and then played a short, simple melody. It was nice. The piano was nice. But it was just an instrument. And what she played on it...it wasn’t music.

Octavia had sold her personal piano a few days previously, and spent every waking moment of free time playing her new cello. She had already been through three bows with the fervour of her playing. Her father had given her an early birthday present of a magic-infused bow, that would last much, much longer than a normal bow.

The young earth pony knew her father was still disappointed that she wasn’t a pianist. But he accepted the fact that she was a cellist now, at least.

Octavia closed the lid on the piano gently, and then moved over to the cello, smiling up at its large shape. Such an odd instrument. And she had so much to learn about how to use it! A hoof lifted to fondly stroke it, and then she pulled it towards her, drawing the bow and dragging it across the strings slowly, smiling at the sound it made.

And then Octavia began to play. There was no sheet music to worry about with her cello playing. No pressure to stick to a script. It was all her when she played. There was no pressure. It was liberating. And she understood perfectly what Vinyl had meant now. When she played the piano, she had to concentrate. She had to focus, to make sure she hit the notes right. There was no fun there. No joy. But when she made the cello sing for her, it just felt so right!

Reluctantly, Octavia set down the bow and placed the cello back on its stand with a fond look, stroking its dark curves once before turning to leave.

The clopping of hooves in the hallway however, halted her, and her eyes widened. On instinct, she dived behind the piano and hid.

The door to the music room opened, and quiet footsteps entered, and then paused, seemingly catching sight of the large gift. There was the hum of magic, and Octavia risked sneaking a peek around the edge of the piano, spying Vinyl, holding the card up with a glow of magic.

And then Octavia hid again, cowering behind the piano, willing herself not to breath lest she give her position away.

The wrapping paper rustle, and tore as Vinyl opened her present, and then there was the hum of magic again as she apparently caught sight of the second card. Octavia peeked once more, and saw Vinyl reading it, standing in front of the big, shiny new record player.

Octavia could remember, word for word, what was written on the card. She had agonised over the wording the entire previous night.

Dear Vinyl Scratch

I just wanted to say that I am sorry for my behavior at the talent show. I was rude, and out of line. And what I said to you was unforgivable. You tried to help me and I responded with childish, petty insults. I rightly deserved to be humiliated for not following my heart as you told me to do.

You were right. And I was wrong. And I hope it makes you feel better to know that I realise that now. I am returning to Canterlot to continue my musical studies. But I leave you this gift.

If you are ever in Canterlot, my door is always open to you. And I am glad to have called you friend for the brief time that I could.

You taught me more about music in a few short hours than my entire life around musicians did.

The records are all blank, so you can record whatever you want on to them, and then play it all back. Every instrument you ever play with always be at the tip of your hooves.

The top record however is already written. It is a song I composed for you. Do not feel obliged to listen to it, but I wrote it for you. I played it from my heart.

I hope these go some way towards repaying you for the gifts you gave me. But I fear that against the immensity of helping me find my instrument, no gift will ever suffice.

Sincerely yours,

Octavia.

There was another hum of magic as the letter was placed down, and the sound of a record being placed on the pin, and the needle coasting over to the inside of the disc.

Immediately, the music room was filled with the sad refrain of Octavia’s cello, humming a soft, apologetic tune. Octavia had poured her heart into the piece. She had done as Vinyl had said. Just closed her eyes and let the music talk for her.

Octavia snuck another peek, and saw Vinyl with her eyes closed, glasses sitting on the edge of the turntables, and soft tears falling down her cheeks. She was gently swaying from side-to-side in time with the music.

The earth pony took the opportunity to slide out from behind the piano and towards the door. She would slip out without being seen, and let Vinyl decide if she ever wanted to see her again.

“You didn’t have to do this you know...” Vinyl said, her voice strained, muffled. She didn’t look up or move, but Octavia knew that she was discovered.

“I...felt it necessary,” Octavia admitted uncomfortably, pausing in the middle of the floor, her ears pinning back. “I...didn’t think you’d be here.”

“I wanted to play with the instruments one last time...” Vinyl said in response, shaking her head, her voice turning bitter, “My parents are pulling me out of school. Say I need to learn a proper trade...music isn’t my thing.”

Octavia didn’t know what to say to that, her ears splaying backwards. “I...I...I’m sorry, Vinyl.”

“It’s not your fault,” Vinyl responded, shaking her head and lifting the needle from the record, plunging the two ponies into silence. “But...with this...I’ll always have some music with me.”

Octavia breathed a sigh of relief. “And here I was worried that you’d try to be modest and refuse the gift.”

Vinyl gave a mirthless giggle. “As if. These things are majorly expensive. And rare. I’ll be the coolest gal in Ponyville with one of these.”

“Vinyl...you already are,” Octavia said, stepping closer to the pony. “I...You helped me find my instrument. You helped me find my instrument and all I did was insult you for it...”

“You’re stuck up, Octy. You’re supposed to do that,” Vinyl responded coolly.

“No, Vinyl. You don’t understand. I failed at the piano. I failed in front of everyone because I didn’t listen to you,” Octavia tried to explain, her voice placating. “If I had listened to you in the start, I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself in front of everyone.”

“Perhaps...but you were right, too. You had no reason to listen to me, Octy. I’m just a ‘cool’ unicorn who can’t even find an instrument to play,” she stated, her tone defeated. “And pretty soon...I won’t even have instruments. Just records.”

“But that’s all you need, Vinyl,” Octavia soothed, placing the pin back on the record. “You have all the instruments in the world right here, at your hooftips.”

Octavia spun the record to get it to the right spot, making it cause a rather strange ‘scratch’, and then let it play the sad, mournful hum she had given it.

Vinyl’s hoof immediately found its way to the record as she demanded to know, “What did you do?”

“What...do you mean? I just spun the record to find the right spot. Where the pin is on the record determines the sound.” Octavia explained, spinning the record back and forth once to demonstrate, wincing at the sound it made. “Really should lift the pin before I do that, though.”

Vinyl shook her head, snorting once, she stepped up to the turntables, “Budge over.”

Octavia did as asked, stepping aside to allow Vinyl full access.

Immediately, the pony began to rock the discs back and forth, creating the scratching sound again. She moved her hooves quickly, making the strange sound happen over and over, before allowing it to play a long, sad few notes, and then ‘scratching’ it again, melding the sounds into a beat of her own to overshadow the slow notes of the cello.

“You weren’t lying when you said you can make music with any instrument,” Octavia observed.

“Oh I like this,” Vinyl said, spinning the record eagerly, “I like this a lot.”

In a matter of weeks, Vinyl had become semi-famous. She went by the name of DJ-P0N3 now, and had earned her cutie mark. She had moved out of home, to Canterlot, and her new music was sweeping Equestria. It was the first of her parties that Octavia had ever attended, and she was standing beside the DJ booth, listening to the master DJ at work.

Vinyl set a record to playing, a full orchestra, and then slid down to sit next to the earth pony, smiling broadly. “So what do you think?”

“It’s very nice,” Octavia said with a sincere nod. “It is very different from normal music.”

“It’s totally all mine,” Vinyl stated proudly.

“It suits you,” Octavia said with a nod and a smile. “But...I do have a question.”

“Ask away, my fine, unhorned friend.”

Octavia paused a moment, framing her words carefully. “You....were so very adamant about me making music, rather than repeating it. And now you are just...mainly repeating music of other ponies.”

Vinyl nodded modestly at that. “Too right I am, Octy. What’s your point?”

“Well...why?” Octavia asked, bewildered. “I thought you would abhor using other ponies music after what you told me.”

Vinyl gave a thin smile at that, laying a hoof on her friends shoulder. “Octy. I have every song ever right in this turntable. I can play masterpieces from the greatest artists that ever lived. You, however. Were just an earth pony with a piano repeating songs from long-dead ponies. There was no spirit there. I knew you were destined for greater things, Octavia. And when you make a masterpiece with your cello, I’ll be the one to share it with all the ponies out there on my turntables. I’m content with that. And you found your true instrument.”

Octavia stared at her friend for a long moment in silence, before shaking her head. “You are a very strange pony, Vinyl Scratch. Not dislikable. But very strange.”

Vinyl giggled, pulling her friend into a hug. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Octy.”

The two ponies were silent for a few moments, and Vinyl adjusted her glasses self-consciously. “You know...I’ve got a fairly large house now, and I’m looking for a room mate...”

Vinyl let the words hand in the air for a few moments.

“Are you...propositioning me, vinyl?” Octavia asked, raising a brow. “I did not think that riff-raff such as yourself would want to associate with high-class ponies on such a regular basis.”

The DJ grinned at that, giving a shrug. “Just putting it out there in case any snooty ponies who were loaded heard it and wanted to subject themselves to daily doses of DJ-P0N3.”

“You would drive them positively insane,” Octavia stated, shaking her head.

“That’s the point,” Vinyl responded with a sly grin.

“So I’ll move in on Thursday?” Octavia asked.

Vinyl looked at her for a long moment, and smiled. “I’d like that."