Working Class DJ

by Lise

12. The Pact

Previous Chapter

"Mother, why do we have to pretend?" Vinyl asked. She had just finished her homework, and there was a quarter of an hour before the start of her next lesson.

"Everypony pretends Vinyl," the Duchess of Canterlot replied. "The weak pretend to be strong, the sad pretend to be happy. Ponies like to believe that by pretending they could achieve what they are lacking."

That's a preposterous explanation, Vinyl thought. Why would anypony pretend to be something they weren't instead of achieving it?

"But we have everything, Mother. Why do we have to pretend?" Vinyl persisted.

"We pretend because we have to." Her mother moved in front of Vinyl's desk. She was, as always, perfectly calm — the edges of her lips curved in an almost unnoticeable smile. "While others pretend to be like us, we pretend to be the ideal worth copying. Powerful, awe inspiring, distant — that is what we must be. Remember that, Vinyl."

The explanation still didn't stand to logic, but Vinyl nodded nonetheless. her mother was too good at pretending to be lying. Most of the nobles at the soirees were doing exactly the same. Only Vinyl's father and cousin didn't seem to care. Vinyl's cousin was actually notorious for it — a "wild stallion spoilt beyond measure" was the phrase that circulated. For one thing he certainly was annoying and pompous. It was a wonder he was at all related to Vinyl's family.

"Mother, does the Princess pretend?" Vinyl dared ask. She still had a few minutes before the start of her lesson and was planning to make full use of them.

"Darling, the Princess does nothing but pretend." The Duchess turned around. "Every waking moment for a thousand years, she pretends to be happy."

* * *

"Y'er outta ya bleedin' mind, mate!" The shout could be heard all the way on the street. "If ya ain't go' gig, jus’ tell us straight!" All ponies there stopped, directing their attention to the nightclub. Even in this part of town such scenes didn't happen too often, at least not before moonrise.

"Mel, seriously, just four nights per week!" A plea of equal strength sounded. "You're killing me here! Bits on hoof. You know I'm good for it!"

"Not interested, mate!" Octavia stormed out of the nightclub. "I'm tire' of you lot givin' me the bloody runaround! If ya ain't up for a gig per week, don't waste me bloody—" The mare would probably have go on, if something hadn't caught her attention. A few steps away, standing patiently on the pavement, was a white unicorn. "Bloody sauce," Octavia said bitterly, shaking her head.

Vinyl felt the pressure build up in her. Calm and collected, I must remain calm and collected, she said to herself? Octavia already had a low opinion of her. No need to make it worse.

"You are the one turning down work," Vinyl said, trying to sound confident, even accusing. "The club owners haven't been the ones stopping you. It was you all along!” This sounds so false. Why do I keep relying on plays for phrases? “You've been around half the nightclubs in Canterlot. If you wanted you could've been booked non-stop and have enough bits to live adequately!"

"'twas too bloody good to be true," Octavia snorted, walking by. "Just can't keep away, can ya, love?"

Hardly had words more bitterly been spoken. Not hatred, rather the annoyance one reserves for a foal that keeps tagging along. The DJ made a few more steps, then looked over her shoulder.

"Come along," Octavia said, sighing. "Just say i', love. T'is not bloody changing me mind."

"What if I could offer you something you want?" Now was the time for Vinyl to make her move. "Would you reconsider then?"

"Princess, will ya give i' a bloody rest?" Octavia rolled her eyes. "T’is no' abou' the splits. No' abou' the food. No'—"

"The Conservatory will never accept a beginner!" Now to see if Lyra's hunch was correct. If not, I'll be in for a huge embarrassment, and somepony will be getting an earful from me.

Luckily, the words had the desired effect. Octavia paused, blinked, hesitated for a few seconds, then walked on, as if nothing had happened. Her silence spoke volumes. No comeback, no condescending remark, meant she was listening. Time to put mother's years of training to good use, Vinyl thought, quickly moving beside the DJ.

"And you are right — money doesn't matter." Start casually, agree with the pony you are talking to. "Even if you were rich as Fancy Pants, you'd never get in. And it's not about talent or potential either." Give her something to think about. Wait a few moments until she is just about to ask the question, then continue. "Everypony there has a music cutie-mark. Some even come from affluent families. You have seven years of experience and accomplishments, yet when it comes to classical training you are worse than a filly."

No reaction. That was good. Any traces of anger would have surfaced by this point. The fact that they hadn't, meant that Octavia really wanted to become a classical musician and was willing to listen to a "spoilt snobbish mare" to have even the slightest chance of succeeding. Come to think of it, she and Vinyl weren't all that different — both were chasing after an absurd dream that was in a world they didn't belong to.

"I can teach you all you need to know," Vinyl said. Hide the hesitation, hide the hesitation. "History, theory, everything. I can also teach you how to talk, how to behave, how to eat." She let out an audible sigh. Establish a connection with the listener. "And I know somepony who can teach you how to play strings. Properly. In any event, it will be considerably better than sneaking to practice sessions."

"Y'er not jossing me?" Octavia glanced sideways at Vinyl.

"No jossing." Vinyl assured. Now add a humorous remark. "And no Trotney."

Octavia snorted. It wasn't absolutely clear if she found it funny or not. More likely she did, though. From what Vinyl had observed, the DJ was not one to spare others her opinion on anything.

The two mares walked on in silence. As much as Vinyl wanted, she didn't dare say a word. She had made her offer and now it was up to Octavia to respond. Any comment, no matter what, could be interpreted in the wrong way and that would end up being counterproductive.

They passed a food stall, then another. Strangely enough, it was Vinyl who felt a desire to buy something. Skipping breakfast and lunch definitely didn't seem as smart as it had several hours ago. Even the smell of roasted chestnuts was enough to get her to salivate. Keep it together! Vinyl bitterly regretted not listening to Glitter. Maybe that mare actually knows a thing or two about life? What am I thinking?! Of course, she doesn't. I just have to be a bit more careful in future.

"Let's 'ave a bite first." Octavia broke the silence, filling Vinyl with secret gratitude. "Me treat."

Quite unexpected, though definitely welcome. To increase the confusion, Octavia didn't just go to the first food stall on their path. Instead, she continued to the centre of Canterlot and right into The Silver Horseshoe — a nice place, and extremely expensive by the DJ's standards. Can she seriously afford this? Vinyl wondered. Knowing the earth pony’s financial situation, a meal here seemed more than a little excessive.

Not bothered one bit, Octavia went to the first free table by the windows and sat down. A quick nod to the waiter and two menus were placed at their table. Am I missing something? You act, as if you are a regular here. The order was a double tray of wheat cracker sandwiches for four, along with a small aperitif. Everything was paid for on the spot... by Octavia. This was the first time Vinyl had seen her carry this many bits.

"Fan mail, love," Octavia said, seeing the way Vinyl was staring at her. "Jossers still send 'em me way."

The explanation didn't seem remotely plausible, but Vinyl nodded all the same.

"I got me mark playin' violin," the earth mate began. "Was bloody difficult! Me mum tol' me I can neva' do it, so I di' all the same, just ta show 'er. Four bloody months! I di'n't even 'old it right. Placed i' 'tween two chairs an' moved the bow like a bloody saw! Go' one melody done. T'was enough."

The mental image was horrendous. Vinyl could only cringe thinking what the violin had been put through. No wonder you managed to get one performance out of it. The poor instrument had probably cut its own strings, committing ritual suicide at the thought what pain it had caused to Equestria.

"'ad to throw it out after." Octavia grabbed a cracker sandwich. Apparently, her appetite remained the same. "Got me mark, though. Then di' what any stupid josser would."

"You left home and tried to find a music instructor who would teach you—" Vinyl started and abruptly stopped. The stare Octavia gave her spoke volumes. Ashamed, the lady levitated a sandwich to her mouth and took a small nibble.

"Went fo' an easier way." Octavia shook her head, along with another snort. "’Tried to find a music instructor’," she repeated amused, causing Vinyl to blush with embarrassment. "Go' into synths, turntables and all that DJ trash. Was jus' me easy way to ge' in'o kings."

"Kings?" Honestly, Octavia. The first thing I'll do is teach you how to talk. Your accent is horrendous as it is without adding random words!

"Strings," the earth mare grumbled. "Classical. Was ten when I go' me mark. 'ooves an' kings don't mix, so I went synth."

That definitely was one way of looking at it. Vinyl had to give her points for originality. As horrible as it sounded, strings were reserved for unicorns. Pegasi mostly focused on horns, and earth ponies on percussion. It hardly was fair, but those were the facts of life. Ponies that used hooves to play stringed instruments were almost unheard of. The few that existed were either geniuses, or conservatory students going through a phase. In a few years most were likely to change speciality or resort to playing unsophisticated instruments... such as banjos.

"Told ye the rest." The DJ made a sign to the waiter to bring a second sandwich tray. "You betta' be bloody certain ya can teach me, love. Ya saw how upset li'l Wisp go'. Guess where he learned tha’."

"I can only let you teach yourself," Vinyl said firmly. It was a phrase her mother liked to use a lot. "As you love to say, this is not your world, it's mine."

"Bloody brilliant." The disappointment was obvious. "Twelve years o' building me rep, and I start from zilch, taking lessons from a blooming princess."

"Only if you want to." Vinyl tried to remain calm. Each time someone used that title, her heart skipped a beat.

"Well, I guess we'll both 'ave to learn 'ow to switch, love."

Finally! The promise Vinyl had worked so hard to get. It was far less dramatic as she imagined, nothing like the books she had read, still for the first time in years she felt... joy? It was almost as if her parents had announced the'll be coming to spend a few months with her. All that remained now, was the difficult part.

The conversation didn't continue for much longer. Vinyl shared her thoughts on her training methods and promised to introduce her to Lyra the following day. Octavia offered they celebrate the event in the Twin, receiving a hesitant "maybe" as an answer. The unicorn had no desire to go there, not after they way she had handled things last time. In any event, that was for the future. There were things to prepare, and talks to have. Talks... the word felt more painful than ever. She was going to have to face Stoic and Presence again.

By the time Vinyl returned, it was already dinner time. She could have returned hours earlier, but the thought of breaking the news to her governess seemed more than a little frightening. The only thing worse would be to face the Duchess herself. Isn't it funny? For the first time I'm glad Mother and Father aren't home.

The mansion was expecting her return — servants with lanterns were waiting at the gate and the main entrance. Vinyl passed by them hardly taking notice. It was only in the dining room that she bothered to take a look. Glitter was there, of course, along with five other ponies that had been in her mother's service for years. All were like statues, awaiting her commands.

"Please inform Miss Presence that I'd like her to join me." Vinyl's voice was calm and clear, befitting her pedigree. "And let Chef know I am ready to be served."

The faint sound of hooves indicated her orders were acknowledged. Less than a minute later, Presence arrived. There was not a trace of joy on her face, merely the obedient look of one come to serve the lady of the manor.

"Take a seat, if you please," Vinyl said. The governess could not disobey. With a slight frown she did so, just as the griffon Chef entered with his host of assistants. Tonight's dish was mushroom cream soup with a side dish of marinated radish garnished with parsley, accompanied by an exotic petal salad. As much as she wanted to compliment him, Vinyl had to be curt. Thankfully, a few words of flattery, along with thanks, were more than enough.

"I have found somepony to tutor me," Vinyl said, between spoonfuls. "Contemporary music. DJing to be precise."

"DJing," the governess repeated, her disappointment clear.

"This shall require my schedule to be reorganized," Vinyl continued, ignoring the comment.

"I suppose you'd like me to inform your previous music tutors that their services would no longer be required?"

"Not in the least." Vinyl looked her governess in the eye. "I would like to limit fencing to two times per week, embroidery and etiquette to one, and increase literature to three. I would also like to have my evenings free."

The governess raised a brown. You weren't expecting this, were you! Vinyl smiled on the inside. So far so good. Now for the most difficult part.

"I would also like your help." Vinyl levitated a book in to her lips. "All this might have started as an act of rebellion against my mother, but I assure you I am quite serious in pursuing it to fruition."

"I have no doubt, young miss. But DJing?" The older unicorn shook her head. "This is not something her Grace would approve of. And before you start making comparisons to your father or cousin, they are stallions. As such they are allowed a certain degree of frivolity. Nothing is expected of either of them. You, on the other hoof, are to become Duchess of Canterlot one day. Thus, you will be measured by a different standard."

"I am not Duchess yet!" Vinyl said sharply. "I have barely turned eighteen. If this is the cutie-mark I was given, I intend to make full use of my potential."

"And that is commendable, but DJing..." Another sigh followed. "You know I have support you in all of your whims, but this... I fear you are wasting your talents. Is this really what you want, Vinyl?"

Hearing her name uttered made Vinyl shiver, as if a sudden draft had passed through the room.

"You have so much potential." The governess leaned forward.

"Potential without freedom to express it means nothing! You know as well as I that there is no way in Tartarus I'd be allowed to do anything in front of a large audience. Possibly a small performance at a soirée, and that is if I'm lucky."

"Too much freedom could be as hazardous as no freedom at all," Presence countered. "You are not your cousin, young miss. You have parents that care about you. Today you sneak out to go to nightclubs. Tomorrow, who knows? Don't forget you don't have your cousin's health."

The health issues — always the trump card in an argument. Vinyl hated being reminded of it. Health concerns were the reason she couldn't go along with her father as a filly, or why home lessons were preferred to normal school. I really dislike it when you do that. So what if I am a little smaller and more delicate than the average unicorn? Don't you dare to assume I'm anything but normal!

"Do you believe you could stop me?" There was a singly shiver in Vinyl's voice. "Even if you had the authority to do so?"

The answer was not spoken, but clearly heard.

"I would rather have your and Stoic's support, and focus on developing my talent, than thinking of ways to go around you." Vinyl made a sign to her handmaid to clear the table. "The last few days have shown me I am more capable of finding solutions than I thought. Personally, I wouldn't want to test that theory on something as useless as escaping my own manor."

"Nopony would, young miss." The governess said curtly.

"Is there anything more, Miss Presence?" Vinyl stood up. The governess merely shook her head. "Very well, I'll be in my room."

The moment Vinyl entered her room and closed the door, her whole body began to shake. Stars, what have I done? there was no telling what was scarier — having an actual conversation with Presence or taking control of her life. Pouting and sarcasm was so much easier, but that was the behaviour of a filly. And, of course, there was the looming fear of Vinyl's parents. How would they react when they learned of this? Oh, stars, my parents! I haven't even read their latest mails. I really should. Not just yet, though. Now, I could use some sleep.

* * *

The idea was among the worst Lyra had had, and that was putting it mildly. The last few days she had hopped from one disaster to the next, doubling the ante each time. Then again, that was the only way to win big. Once she's done with this major inconvenience she'd have her prize. That in itself made everything worth it.

Taking a deep breath the unicorn put on her best smile and entered the nightclub. Like most clubs on the outskirts of Canterlot it was full of earth ponies. No bouncer stopped her going in — she might be a unicorn, but she was also famous. There hardly was a club in Canterlot that she hadn't frequented at one time or other. The Crucible was one of the better places, although a bit small for Lyra's taste. Tonight she wasn't coming here for fun, however.

"Lyra!" A wave of cheers filled the place at her arrival. Cool! Still haven't lost it! She smiled, levitating herself a few steps in the air.

A few air kisses, several dozen hoofbumps, and the loudest "hello, pones" she could muster later, Lyra was sitting comfortably in the best seat in the club — the centre of the bar. It definitely was nice to be well known.

"The usual?" The bar pony asked — a dark pegasus mare with crimson mane. Lyra couldn't help but smile.

"Looking good, boss." The musician winked. "Just something light. I'm not here for the party."

"Oh?" The mare poured a transparent liquid into a small bowl and slid it gently towards Lyra. "I never thought I'd live to see the day." Faint traces of a Saddle Arabian accent showed through her speech. "Anything troubling you?"

"Nah." Lyra waved a hoof then gulped down the drink in one go. Tasty! I've missed this. "Am here to have a word with of your DJs," she said, placing a hoof over her cup before the bar pony could refill it. "I'm here to see her." For a moment, Lyra's joyful expression was replaced by pure unadulterated hatred.

The redmaned mare glanced at the dance floor. Octavia was visible a head above the crowd, playing beats from her music throne. Lyra also took notice. If she could use a spell to zap that detestable DJ in front of everypony she would. Not now, though. Octavia was not worth Lyra tarnishing her reputation, not yet at least. You think you're such a big shot, don't you? The unicorn snorted.

"Mel still has half an hour before break," the bar pony said. "I could make her take it now... if you don't start any trouble."

"Hey, do I look like the kind of pony that starts trouble?" Lyra laughed. "It's fine. I don't hold a grudge. I just want to talk to her. Totally different matter." The dark mare didn't seem at all convinced, but gave a slight nod. "And thirty minutes are fine. I'll wait."

Aether guitar and violin? Lyra thought. Buck you, Mel. If you weren't this good I'd... Calm. I must be calm. This is for Vi. One had to admit, though, the ease with which Octavia managed to combine seemingly uncombinable instruments was nothing short of incredible. Piece after piece the melody twisted and turned, ever-changing into something different. And each time the crowd would go wild.

"How many gigs did you give her?" Lyra asked the par pony.

"Three per month," the mare replied. "She wanted two at first, but when I agreed, she went with three."

"You do know she has gigs at other places too, right?" Lyra asked innocently.

"When you've filled stadiums, you can do as you wish." The bar pony poured Lyra another drink. "I'll get her for you."

"Oh, I'll be outside." The unicorn shrugged. She was hoping that her comment would get Octavia in at least a little bit of trouble. Failing that, it was best they had a talk outside, where nopony could interrupt them. "Always fun seeing you, Silk Road." She smiled widely, then teleported onto the street.

Maybe I should have had something stronger to drink? Lyra could still go back in and get something before the talk. The temptation was there, but she decided against it. She'd be done in a moment and then she could finally get back to her place. Actually, she might do something far better. Lyra's smile widened.

It didn't take long for Octavia to appear. Lyra could hear her thick accent way before she could see the mare herself. Probably accepting "gifts" from her fans again. DJ grandmaster or not, that was something that infuriated the unicorn. That mud slut! There were times Octavia only came to her parties for the food!

"Oi!" the DJ shouted. "I hear' ya wanted to—" she stopped, giving Lyra an uncertain look. "Nutter? Tha' you?"

"Evening, Mel," Lyra said through her teeth. How I hate that nickname!

"Par'y Nutter." Octavia trooped to her, smile on face. "Can' believe me bloomin' eyes. Wha' ya doin' 'ere, love?"

"Never call me that!" Strings, I hate her! I really hate her! "I'm just here to tell you I'll be teaching you how to play... strings. Or find somepony else to, whatever's easiest."

"Buckin' sauce!" The earth mare completely ignored Lyra. "When Princess tol' me Lyra would 'elp with strings, never thought would be you, love. Ya 'aven't touched an instrument in what? Months?"

"I can play just as well as always did, and you know it!" Lyra was doing her utmost not to shout, yet it wasn't working. Such an annoying muddy! You always were! "Look, I can't stand you, Mel! Not since you set hoof here! Leave it to me and you'd be living in that pigsty forever! Vi thinks you can teach her DJing. So, you help her, I help you and we leave it at that!"

"You feeling ‘right, love?" Octavia tilted her head slightly back.

"So be very, very careful, Mel!" Lyra continued, nostrils flaring. "If you hurt her in any way, or you string her along without teaching her... I will hurt you worse than you can imagine. I don't care how many fights you've been in, I'll twist you so bad with magic that your hooves will melt off!" She stopped, breathing heavily. Lyra didn't like making threats. This was probably the third time she had done so, though it felt just as difficult as the first. Much to her surprise, Octavia seemed unusually calm. In fact she was smiling... genuinely.

"Thanks for the warning, love," Octavia said with as little Trotny accent as she could manage. "Will keep it in mind." The DJ then patted Lyra on the shoulder twice, before heading back into the club. "Oh," she stopped at the entrance, "I've been knifed five times before, so you know."

Crap! Lyra thought, alone once more in front of the nightclub. This could have gone better...