The slight glow of the flat screen television illuminated the living room, giving me just enough light to see the face of the angel next to me. She was burrowed into my side, my arm wrapped around her shoulders, giving my hand the chance to explore mindlessly. I’d known her for such a short time, yet it seemed so long. She had been through so much with me. It was nice to have a sweet, quiet moment with her. To just admire her content features as she slept. I hadn’t thought much of them when we first met. I was more focused on her music, totally her music.
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One of my friends had convinced me to go see a classical music piece played at the local Canterlot theater. It had taken some convincing, okay a lot, on her part to get me to go. I mean, who would want to sit on their butt watching someone play music? No, I’m not being a hypocrite, my music isn’t seen, it’s danced to. Thank you very much. Plus, it wasn’t just any music, it was the kind that supposedly helps plants grow and for dramatic scenes in action movies. So, really, I just wanted to go so I could imagine things blowing up in slow motion with whatever music they were playing and that extra good stuff.
She had eventually gotten me in the car. I don’t really remember the trip to the car, just the mention of alcohol and suddenly I was in the car. Wierd. So, somehow my friend, Bonnie, had convinced me to see some random so-called "show" with her. Me, the Great Vinyl Scratch (yeah, it's capitalized. I'm just that great.), going to see some boring classical music live-show. Seriously, I could be making insanely good party-rocking, house-shaking dubstep and instead I'm going to sit for an hour watching stuck-up aristocrats give golf claps at the end of every song.
During the drive Bonnie talked about how her girlfriend, Lyra, is going to play the lyre during the performance and how awesome she thinks it is. Hey, at least it's not the triangle or something. If it was I would probably worry, just more then I usually do.
Anyway, after barely surviving the drive to the theater, Bonnie and I arrive. I had my sexy, but presentable white, strapless dress. I had a hint of pride for what I'd chosen. While it did show almost all my cleavage it didn't show much on the side and none on the front of my breasts, creating a base for the imagination, but not enough to continue it. The dress itself wasn't tight and followed my curves, it didn't hug or stick to them. Since I was in shape, really in shape, from all the movement I do during my gigs, it easily showed what I had, but it didn't show enough to seem like I wanted people to ogle me. I just wanted everyone to be tinsty bit jealous. It also complimented my light and dark blue hair, balancing it out and drawing attention to it too, not just my other amazingly awesome places.
Bonnie had tried, emphasis on tried, to outdo me with a dress that involved a ladder feature covering the plunging V-neckline and crossover straps on a black dress. The ladder holding the V-neckline together helped bring your eyes toward her larger breasts that were packed in there, pressing together and creating some great cleavage. She had most likely gotten it just a size smaller to emphasize this and to impress her girlfriend. The V-neckline guided your eyes down to her midsection and curves while the thin straps holding the dress on her shoulders showed skin that demanded your attention.
Bonnie and I headed toward the entrance and went to handed our tickets in. Seeing as we didn't have any pockets to put them in and we didn't have our purses we had stuck them in the best place we could think of. The dude's face was priceless when we dug them out and his jaw was still hanging when we went past him to our seats.
Our seats were situated in the middle group of seats, but to the left of the exact middle. They went from about ten feet to the stage, where the conductor was, and continued all the way under the balcony seats. The seats themselves were ten by twelve groups that, when looked at from afar, you could see that the groups were actually put into a larger three by three that covered the theater.
Since we had arrived a little early there was still a flow of people going into the theater and settling into their seats. And a good amount of the musicians were on stage prepping for the show to come. Bonnie and I passed time people watching and occasionally pointing out someone to make fun of. The ones around us didn't find it funny as we did. Heh. Comb-overs are the best.
Emmersed in looking for more aristocrats to make fun of I hadn't noticed the quiet hush that had fallen. The people around me shushed me, including Bonnie since she had noticed Lyra on stage. I shrugged and slumped in my seat, preparing to have my ears bombarded with mind-numbing music (and not in the good way).
With all the musicians and people watching seated, the conductor moved to his stand. He waited a few moments, while the musicians shuffled through their music sheets and find the first song. Once the shuffling stopped he tapped the stand with his conductor stick and with a flick of his wrist the music began.
At first it took awhile for the music to get into a groove. I hadn't planned on playing much attention anyways, but then all the main instruments became background music and clear chords from some instrument somehow stood out. I hadn't been able to hear it before, at least it wasn't as prominent as before. Even in the other concerts I'd been forced to go to. Falling asleep wasn't an option now, I had to hear more.
It was beautiful. Sure it wasn't what was supposed to be the instrument that commanded the song, but it was the base. And sure, there were multiple musicians currently playing the instrument, but one musician owned it. They put a spin on it and made it theirs, yet somehow it still followed what was composed. But I couldn't locate them. I quickly scanned the musicians, all of them were composed and sat with a sense of importance.
It was easy to assume that whoever was putting that much compassion into a song wouldn't exactly sit like that. The trouble was that it would be hard to spot the difference between the fake composure and the real. It's not like I was an expert at discerning body movements, the only experience I had with this was that I had watched people dance constantly and sometimes used classical in my music. With those things to help I still had a hard time finding the source.
But lo and behold, there she is. An angel in her own right. No really, the way this musician's hands glided across the chords were borderline majestic. And I couldn't pry my eyes away. It was easy to tell she wasn't doing the work for fame or for the money, it was because this was what she wanted to do. I had to at least talk to her. I had to admire her up close. No matter what I was going to make contact.
The rest of the concert passed by in a blur, at some point I had asked Lyra about the musician. I'd asked everything I could think of. What was the instrument she was playing? The cello. Who was she? Octavia Philharmonica, cellist of the Royal Canterlot Orchestra and daughter to Johann Philharmonica and Maria Philharmonica of, not surprisingly, Canterlot. Did Bonnie know her? Yes, she actually had invited Octavia to hang out with them after the concert. Did she say yes? Yup. How much longer till this thing is over? Not much longer.
The sigh emitted from me was long and drawn out purposefully. Whelp, mine as well admire from afar for the rest of the time. Now, at least, there was no downside to it taking longer. Every once in awhile I would ask Bonnie questions to find out more, but for the most part I just liked watching Octavia. It was intoxicating to see how much she really fit into the role of a cellist. After a few more long, like really long songs, the concert ended.
At my defiance to go straight to Lyra and Octavia, Bonnie made us stay outside the building to wait for them. I even offered to help Octavia change! Sheesh. A few minutes later they came out of the entrance, dressed in formal clothes. After spotting Bonnie, Lyra walked faster and left behind Octavia. Seeing it as an opportunity to exhort my feminine wiles on Octavia I adjusted my dress and went to introduce myself.
“Hey, beautiful.”
...she walked right past me. I don't believe it, I wasn't just rejected, I was ignored! I whipped around, there she was, just continuing to walk. Just swinging those hips like it was nothing. Ah, who am I kidding, that view makes up for everything.
I made it back to Bonnie and Lyra, who now had Octavia talking to them. This had to be resolved, there was no way I was going to back down after that. Though I suppose she just couldn't have heard me. Oh well, the battle continues. “Hey, how ‘bout we head down to my place for a drink?” I glanced over to Lyra and Octavia, “You guys need a rest after all that awesomeness anyways.”
Lyra and Bonnie immediately agreed, then again it was probably because of the free booze. Octavia seemed to contemplate it and said, “I suppose so.” Bam, she's on board. Am I good or am I good?
Octavia had driven with Lyra to the theater in her car, which meant she would drive in her car to my house. I suggested that I go with Octavia and meet Lyra and Bonnie there. They agreed suspiciously fast, Octavia’s response was another “I suppose.”
A few minutes later we were on the way to my house, no directions needed since she knew the neighborhood. I tried starting out with small talk, just to get the conversation going, asking things like “How did you think the concert went?” and “What's your favorite…” and so on. After a little while I determined she had warmed up to me. Seeing as she was actually talking and not just nodding, shaking her head or giving the occasional “mhmm”. Which left the question I was meaning to ask.
“I'd like to use your music in my works, what do you think?” The car just swerved didn't it? I thought that was a serious question, but swerve worthy? Was it really that surprising? The car regained its alignment and continued on. As for Octavia, well, she looked slightly shaken up.
“I'm sorry, what?”
I restated my request, “Well, I thought you played awesome and I wanted to incorporate some of your music into my music. I'm a EDM artist, and those who go original usually find something good, ya know?”
“Yes, I'm quite aware of that. There's a concept of the like in the classical world too.” She smiled, “But don't tell that to them, they don't like the idea of being similar to ‘ruffians’ like you.” One-handed air quotes were added to ruffians for good measure.
“Oh, so you've heard of me?”
Octavia grinned slightly, “Well, Lyra introduced me to what she calls ‘modern classical music’ using your works. And I found that they were very loud, but enjoyable.”
I also grinned, this was sounding promising, “So, what do you think about a partnership?”
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She said yes! Well, it was more of a “let's-see-what-happens-and-plan-from-there” kind of yes, but I am totally counting it! It turned out that she had been to a few of my gigs and since she had already heard a demo of what my music is like she thought it would be interesting to work with me.
After we arrived at my house we waited a few minutes for Lyra and Bonnie to arrive, making small talk about our plans for the future. Eventually the other guests arrived, an excuse of “traffic” was voiced, but it probably wasn't that. We went inside and I made some drinks while they sat down and conversed. After a little while I was forced into doing a demo of some of my works. They seemed to like it, even dancing and other moves that I don't think qualify as it. The drinks probably didn't help that.
A few questionable games later and Lyra and Bonnie were off, but Octavia stayed to help clean up and hang for a little more. She hadn’t had anything alcoholic and I had only drank a bottle or two so we were good. A little chatting later, along with a cleaner apartment, and I had grabbed my laptop to show Octavia some in-production tracks and plan some more for what we want to do.
“I think that'll work. I've got some stuff to do over the week but if you want to come over on Saturday and bring your instrument, we should be good to work then, if you're up for it?”
A yawn came from Octavia as I continued to plan on my computer, “Sure.” A moment later something landed on my shoulder.
I smiled, stealing a glance at her peaceful face, and gave a light chuckle, “Night, Tavi.”
Author's Note
Wow, I can't believe I finally got this one finished. This one shot isn't in the same time line as my other one, but hopefully it was worth the wait. If I did anything wrong, or you thought something was good, or you just wanted to talk about the story go and throw a comment in, I really like feedback!
-Till the next one
