I feel Tavvy's hoofsteps vibrate through the floor, but even my beats can't block the loud slam of the front door behind her. I sigh. My headphones slip off, my rag flops onto the bass, and my head turns. First thing I spot are the bags under her eyes and the stain on her cheek.
It's been a very bad weekend.
After I nod her way she finally lets it all out: her cheap lawyer jackin' up his payroll some more, another fight with Lord Bevel the fatso, a phony quarantine slapped on her mansion, lots of legal bull. Somewhere in there she swears off Canterlot too, again.
That's the worst part: those sicko's will always get another go at her.
My cue comes when she calms down, and I say "You'll figure things out, Tavvy." The burnin' that follows is almost enough to make me cough my throat out right in front of her. Almost, but then Tavvy smiles. Yeah, that calms me down quick.
Five little words, that's all I need to put a smile on her face. Almost lets me forget that I could do more. Still can't believe it's been a year already. The words reach the cusp of my lips again: 'let me help you, Tavvy.'
But nothin' comes. Instead, my hoof brushes that sad little stain away and I throw her my winnin' smile. No tears in this house, missy!
"I know," she says. "I'll be alright... but I'm taking the week off, if you don't mind; I just don't have the energy."
A whole week. A year ago, she'd work overtime even on weekends, but I ain't first in line to say no; she needs it.
While leadin' me to the kitchen at her side of the house, she talks a little more, just random things now. She knows I'm only half-listenin', and I know she doesn't mind at all. I whip up a cupcake from my batch yesterday. I love this part, when she has her treat: she takes in every chocolatey bite, makin' the cutest little nose-scrunch in the whole wide world! The tension fizzles out and my heart goes all toasty inside. Thank Celestia for Pinkie's special bakin' touch.
This is what I do best; all the trivia in Equestria about Canterlot politics ain't gonna make a lawyer out of an artist. Besides, I know she'd ask in a cinch if she needed me. Just lookin' at her smile, I can even predict what she asks: "Would you care to join my bed tonight?"
Of course. Like a proper gentlemare, I take her by the hoof and lead her upstairs to her side of the house, but I wanna do somethin' a little different tonight. We stop by the clothes racket in the middle of the hall and I swipe her birthday present.
Such a beautiful robe. Guess I'd think so, since it does match my mane dye. Looks righteous on Tavvy though - these strikin' blues over her grey coat are plenty classy. And now it's mine. She shakes her head when I wrap it over my shoulders.
What, it's so soft! I know you wear it in bed, Tavvy. I wanna feel what that's like.
I open her bedroom door and... well, I finally look inside. I bet ponies out there think Tavvy's got this classy study while I'm just a hog in a dungeon. They've never seen Tavvy's room: sheet notes litterin' the floor, dishes on her desk, dust all over the bookshelves -
Oh, for Celestia's sake, you couldn't even make your bed before you left, Tavvy?! I fix my freakin' bed! My moms' drilled me every morning: clean the bed, brush my teeth, put away dishes, every morning. But you? You're Breath-Mint City in here!
Seriously, how twisted is it that I'm the one between us with low-maintenance?!
Ah well; she's blushin' so she knows it. After trottin' through this mess and me throwin' my shades to the coffee table, we tumble into her big bed: the blanket to our waists, her muzzle to my chest, and mine to her mane - to the rich scent of her shampoo.
Ah, I love her shampoo, I just wanna burrow in it forever! The oranges are strong, but that dash of vanilla is extra tasty. Ah, and those opacifiers - that's what they're called, right? - make her mane all shiny.
Yeah, you've rubbed off on me, Tavvy, but I don't have to be a fancy pants to appreciate those little details. It's why I love your music: so what if it ain't a remix on the turntable, your greatness is somethin' softer, deeper: you fine-tune every note, turnin' sound into transcendence in every performance - even when the rest of your life's fallin' around you sometimes.
Not like it's your fault. I'd like to think that just comes with growin' up with a butler around you all day, but I know better.
Oh Tavvy. You smile, you hold me tight, and I kiss your little noggin ‘til the cows come home, but I wonder what you're thinkin'. Am I doin' enough to make you feel safe and comfy? Are you just waitin' for me to jump in the fray with you?
Are you still crying in there, Tavvy?
When I turn your head up to mine and plant this little kiss on your lips, what I'm sayin' is: no more tears in this house.
It's the morning after, and I already tell that she's not with me; no shampoo mane or kissy-muzzle in reach. My eyes open and my hooves catch open air. Didn't even leave me a pillow to hug. At least Dead-Breath Melody ain't payin' a visit today, I guess.
That's when I hear a bad voice: an angry stallion downstairs, right outside the front door I think. Can't scrape the grogginess out no matter how much I scratch my eyes, but his shoutin's relentless - and Tavvy's voice climbs up here too.
Wait a minute. Did some rich pony from the courts ride all the way here for her? The accent fits High Canterlot, and Bevel always sounded like the kind of Stiff who'd sell off his own wife if it made him happier.
But this is somethin' else.
I get up, robe half danglin' and my stomach churnin'. I don't try to be quiet as I'm hurryin' down. Noise goes everywhere in this house anyway- like Tavvy, when she cries in her room. Probably thinks I can't hear her from downstairs, but I do.
She cries too much. Last night, just a few days before, a week ago? That thought hits me like a stampede, and I stop.
Are you crying right now, Tavvy?
I see her now in my mind, chewed out under our doorway, and my coat stands up. Any chance she's got, she's takin' trains to Canterlot, settin' up high-stakes gigs, eatin' up down time so we get an income - and all that ain't even what makes her cry late at night! And now this stuck-up Dandy has the gall to come to our house just to make sure she cries some more?!
This is her home, her sanctuary!
My pace quickens and my teeth grind. I barely keep it together when I get downstairs, and I find him: this old, buck-toothed codger with a gaudy watch and a puke-green tux. He stopped shoutin', but there's somethin' primal in his eyes when he sees me, somethin' violent.
A challenger, huh?
That's right, you see me, you see how much I'm shiverin', how buckin' furious I am?! Tavvy doesn't stop me, and now I'm right up in his ugly face.
"How dare you?!" I screech. "I don't care what kinda beef you got with her, you don't have the right! If you ever, EVER come here again I'll shove your watch down your throat and make you choke on it! NOW GET OUT!!"
I slam the door right in his nose. A crisp crunch and a yell from outside says I broke somethin'. All bark, these Dandies, all bark.
"VINYL!"
Oh no.
I turn - and I can barely see her. Tavvy's face, it's all cloudy, and my eyes... now I'm crying. When did I start crying? When I blink I see her clearer. Bags still weigh her eyes down, like she can't even cry anymore.
Oh Tavvy.
A burnin' pain hits my lungs, and hot tears roll down my cheeks as the coughin' fit kicks in like a freight train. Buckin' throat, why? But then I feel Tavvy's hoof in mine, and I cough right into her mane. She pats my back and squeezes me tight, and I hold nothin' back.
Tavvy...
Eventually I go quiet, just standin' in her hooves. The shampoo's gone, and I made her more dirty with all my foalish sobbin'.
Amazing, isn't it? Can't even hide away with her roomie without the sharks sniffin' their prey. She didn't always have to cry. The normal job, yeah it ain't easy, but nothin' worth this pain.
I wonder if some of it's cause you're still in shock, Tavvy. I lost my parents far sooner than you did, and I still ain't 'over it', not really. They were my world. Ain't that why you keep fightin', even when all they left behind for you was an old mansion full of debt?
I've been seein' you less and less since, but that ain't why I cry. I wanna have the heart to say that you're wastin' tears on a place you don't even live in anymore. I wanna tell you how dumb you're bein' to hold on.
I wanna say 'give up', but I can't, 'cause I'd be failin' them too.
What kind of marefriend am I, that I can't be your sanctuary?
"Thank you."
Thank you? I pull away, and somehow Tavvy smiles at me.
"Really, thank you. I’ve needed that for far too long. Go on, you need a wash. Ugh, we're both a mess." The kiss that follows feels numb, stiff against my cheek, like she's forcin' it. Or is it just me? Either way, she's headin' up back to her side of the house.
"Wait," I whisper.
Five words come back to me, but my throat - my damn throat - hitches. She's starin' at me, and the burn threatens me again.
"Let me help you, Tavvy." I... I said it. She looks at me funny, so I know I said it. My throat barely holds back, and the room's so quiet. The gears are turnin' in her head, I can see it.
"No," she says, cold almost. "I'm alright. Now go on and wash."
And then she's gone.
Wait, wash? I look all over my coat, my mane, then at the robe, which I guess somewhere in all this fell off me. An urge to pick it up comes, but I just don't have the energy. I cough, and my lungs remind me of the inferno burnin' them alive.
Yeah, a wash sounds good.
I head on up to my own bathroom, pop some painkillers from the sink closet, and look in the mirror a long while. I brush my hoof over the fading tips of my mane to catch a little dye; cheap stuff's loose and drippin' with sweat. Nothin' but red all over my eyes too.
As I'm starin' at the mirror, though, her smile's lookin' back at me... poor filly still had the heart to smile for me. Shouldn't that count for somethin'? I showed that old Dandy too, didn't I? Yeah, yeah I did. Hay, I haven't said that many words all at once in years - much as it hurts. It's all gotta be pointin' me to somethin' better.
Maybe I'm thinkin' too negative. These 'debt collectors' ain't beatin' Tavvy, why should they beat me? If there's any day to step up my game, it's now. If I went there, I could see it now: she'd show me the ropes, I'd root for her, we'd take shots at them together!
But she said no. I finally spoke up, and she said 'no'. Why?
Well, what would I be goin' against? A court house full of Dandies, the kind who just sent muscle after her. I bet they'd figure out how to use me too: 'Look! She consorts with a tasteless plebian! Obviously we shouldn't let such a soiled rump dirty our glorious capital!"
That ain't even considerin' the kinda things I don't wanna imagine! They can stuff it where the sun don't shine, but that's not gonna help Tavvy. Maybe that's what she's thinkin' too? C'mon Vinyl, she grew up in Canterlot! She's got her reasons not to let me go, right?
It's all the same: I can't do anythin' without screwin' everythin' up, and I hate it.
But I can't do nothin'! That'd be the worst thing to do, lettin' her stew away in her room. I can still play it safe here, can't I? I mean, there's all kinds of things we can do in town. When's the last time we went out, anyway?
I think that's it: a good wash and fresh air's what we need. No drama, no work, just somethin' nice and smooth. I got a few favors saved up on my hit-list anyway.
I jump in the tub and set the water on hot and heavy, and start the cleansin' by prepin' up my mane with a dollop of color remover, just in case. I wear a smile, but one small corner of my stomach's still churnin'.
We're walkin' down Mane Street as the stalls and shops start openin', and the morning crowd is starin' at us. Tavvy put on her robe, in public. Makes some ponies blush. I could say I'm surprised too, but I'm the albino walkn' out without makeup or dyes for once.
They try to be nice and wave, and I nod, but I can't ignore the bad itch I get when they're lookin' at my mane or her robe just a bit too long. Never seen white mane before? Glad I remembered my shades, at least.
Tavvy asks if I'm good for our shoppin' list. She's lookin' at the one item that can't be bought, sittin' high and mighty above everythin' else: "Vinyl". I nod, maybe too hard, but I wanna know she gets it. It's her day.
First up is the Apple Cart, and Big Mac's at the helm this time! A day of oddities today, huh? He's smirkin', but at least he ain't starin'. When I tap the edge of my shades twice and show him the list, he slides his vintage White Macintosh Cider Surprise over the counter.
"Enjoy yer day, ladies," he says, wavin' goodbye without chargin' a bit.
Ah Big Mac; beautiful pony, lot smarter than he credits himself. Probably could take over the world if he wanted. Too shy and quiet for me though.
Yeah, I'm one to talk.
"What was that?" Tavvy whispers as we make our way down the road. I just tap the shades and force a little grin. Sorry Tavvy, some secrets stay.
Next is Pinkie's for ice-cream cake. I tap the shades and get the goods - but not before she pulls her own shades out of her mane and goes all "secret-agent" around Tavvy while slidin' the box my way. I almost hiss at her to get goin', but hey, it's Pinkie Pie; who am I to rain on my best client's parade? I'm not that stupid.
Yeah, right.
It's the same deal in every shop we stop: free massage booked for three at the spa? Tap the shades, get the goods. Outdoor mattress from Quills and Sofas? Tap the shades, get the goods. Free dinner at the Deli? Tap the shades - get the door slammed on us.
Oh yeah, I owe 'em a tab, don't I? Seriously though, now of all days they wanna hold a grudge, no talk or nothin'? I got half a mind to march right in there and -
"Vinyl!" I turn and face Tavvy. "Really, what are you on about? Look, I appreciate what you're doing, but if it means getting yourself in debt with everypony in town -"
"Tavvy," I say, swallowin' hard. "Free favors today, alright?" Nope, can't stop the cough this time.
Tavvy pats me on the withers until I'm done, but she won't look at me when she says "Fine, lead on then."
Five little words just ain't bein' enough today, huh? Heck if my throat'll work with me after this mornin'. Am I just stressin' her out more with this whole deal? Maybe I should pay. Now that I think about, I do look cheap like this, don't I? Vinyl Scratch ain't cheap!
Still, I dunno what I can do that won't be a problem if that's how it's gonna be.
No, just stick with the plan. I skip the rest of the list and lead her into the Apple's backyard - which pretty much doubles as a park, lake and all. They won't mind, I'm sure. But maybe Tavvy'll mind. She never likes bein' a bother to anypony.
Nah, we're here, just set everythin' up, Vinyl. Yeah, we ain't had a good old-fashioned picnic since... wow, have we ever done it? Definitely not since this mess started.
Ugh, I gotta stop thinkin' about it. It's a nice day out! I set up the plates and cups we brought, and she slices the cake and pours her cider. She still won't look at me.
Then she starts talkin' - some time when she went along with a classmate in Canterlot who liked her, which went bad 'cause she was too scared to be upfront about her not feelin' the same way. Haven't I heard this one before?
My legs already hurt sittin' on this thin mat. For sunny days like this, I love my walks. Sometimes my mind's goin' a mile a minute, and sometimes I drown it all with my beats.
Really wishin' I brought my headphones this time.
Then I hear Tavvy clear her throat, and I nod, lettin' her know I'm listenin'. Then I nod again, thinkin' I heard her cough a second time.
"Vinyl." I turn my head at her command, ears perked and eyes right on her. She looks sad, but she smiles and sees right through my shades.
"I'm selling the mansion tomorrow."
What?
I blink, quiet. Then the shades go down so she can see the look in my eyes.
"I know," she says, "but I've spent far too much time thinking on it - today was the last straw."
Nothin'... absolutely nothin' workin' right in my head for a good while. Then it hits me: just like that, with only five little words, she's gonna end it right here. No more lawyers or debts, no more stress or late weekends...
No more childhood home. No, now Bevel's gonna get it, or some other trust-fund Dandy with too many bits already. Or will every collector cut up their 'bounty' - sharks tearin' at the spoils 'til nothin's left?
Now I'm shakin'. She's gonna let all those nights crying in bed go for nothin'? No! The kind of cowards who send muscle after their victims are gonna rise on top?! No, that's not right! Tavvy, you can't let 'em win, no matter how much -
- How much it makes you cry.
"Why?" I say, ignoring my throat or the hitch in my voice. "It's your childhood."
"It was," she says. "I had a beautiful view of the mountains from my bedroom, you know. I'd share tea with Stable Pulse and watch the sunrise every morning, just before I practiced for him. Silly colt, he'd fight for his master's house tooth and hoof if he were still kicking."
"Then why?"
"Must you really ask?" she says.
How many chances did I have to jump in when I played it safe? How many times did I let somethin' push me away when I shoulda' pushed back? And now it's too late?!
"You can't.. ugh, let 'em win!"
She shakes her head with a sad smile, like she pities me. "I don't want to either," she says, "but we shouldn't be killing ourselves out of pride."
Pride? No it- that's not what this is about!
The shades come off and I shake my head, but I can barely look in her eyes. "Let me help you, Tavvy. Please, I can't fail you..."
It's too much. My throat wins out and I'm reduced to a coughin' mess all over again.
Pride... that stupid word hangs over my head, beratin' me for my words.
But what the hay else was I supposed to say? Does it all just point to the fact that I couldn't do anythin' - that I failed in bein' the marefriend you needed, Tavvy, cause I couldn't buck up and stop you before you had to cry yourself to sleep for a whole year?!
I... I failed you, didn't I?
My cheeks feel hot with tears, then somethin' scratchy rubs it away - a napkin. I take it from Tavvy's grasp and look up at her. She's sittin' close to me, eyes all soft.
"Vinyl, there's a reason I've made my choice today. Bevel's servant earlier, I would have taken his shouting and be done with it; I've dealt with worse in court from his master already. But when you came to my rescue... when that monster made you cry, I saw what I was doing. You did help, Vinyl: you helped me realize what a terrible marefriend I've been."
A...
A terrible marefriend?
I... I let that statement echo a few times - a terrible marefriend.
Then Tavvy talks again, seein' how badly I don't get it. "I wanted to beat them, Vinyl, and I wanted to shove it in their faces. Decades of my parent's lives were poured into that home, and I wasn't going to lose it to those scoundrels, not a mouldy crack or chipped tile of it!"
Then she sighs, words tremblin' at the cusp of tears. "No matter how slim my chances were, anything was enough. Even when they threatened to sue us for my parents debt, it didn't matter. I refused to be weak, not for my parents... and not for you. I wanted you to be proud of me, that'd I could go through a year of Tartarus - five years even - and win. Yet not until today did I even notice how much it hurt you to see me like this. If I was a better mare, I would have stopped sooner, and I'm so sorry I couldn't be that for you -"
All I can do is burst out laughin', against the pain and the sobbin'. I take her in my hooves and hold her tight, and I revel in the awkward squeeze she gives back.
"Thought the same about me." I whisper. Silence, then she scoffs and relaxes in my grip.
There we go: there's my five little words.
"Why? Because you didn't come with me?" I cough and nod, and she smiles. "It was hard, but I always felt happy again when I came back, knowing you were waiting for me... that you'd make me feel better. Vinyl, you are my home now, and I've neglected you for far too long. Oh, heaven forbid if I let you get involved in such cutthroat politics! No offense."
No offense, she says!
The rush subsides with a sigh, and in its wake some of the pain washes away. Yet somethin' rotten's still holdin' onto my gut down there. After a year, I had plenty of chances to do somethin' different - but then I guess we both did, huh? Would of saved us all this drama.
I just cough and cry some more, and I don't care how pathetic I look.
My chin is propped up by a hoof, and Tavvy looks deep in my eyes. "Come now, I think we've cried plenty enough. I let my own pride get in the way, and I need to move on... it was always just a house, in the end. I only have two things to ask: that you can forgive me, and that you'll acquit yourself any guilt of what has happened."
Like she reached in and read my mind. I pull her into another hug - a true hug, soft and warm against her robe - and don't let go. Everythin' seems so distant and small right now, and I wish I could keep it that way.
For all the guilt you feel, Tavvy, I never saw anythin' bad in you that needed forgivin' for. I guess we both feel bad for what we did, so who am I to put my self-pity on top?
She pulls away, wraps her robe over me, and pulls me right back in to mess with my mane. Hey, I'm no foal! Still, I don't struggle. Her scent is all around me in this fluff - especially her shampoo. I'm melting and I couldn't feel better.
I think you missed somethin', Tavvy: I am your home, but you're mine too. I can't know what this'll mean in the long run, if anythin', but come what may, I gotta remember that more from now on - I gotta work more for it, from now on. I just hope I'm not too late for that either.
Still, somethin' feels off, so I free myself and try to make up for it by floatin' a plate of cake and a cup of cider up to our noses. It's vanilla strawberry ice-cream, Tavvy.
"Ah yes," she says. "You know, it should be me bribing you into feeling better."
Then she dumps the cider all over the slice and bites it.
"But I love it when you spoil me."
At last. I finally smile as she indulges in her treat - nasty as it smells with all that cider. It's hard to tell if it's all her or the drink kickin' in, but by the time she finishes there's a glint in her eyes, a spark that I ain't seen in far too long that sends sweet, sweet shivers down my spine.
"Now come on," she says, gettin' up. "We have some time before our massage and I want to have fun for once!"
Author's Note
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To all readers who invested their time to my fiction, thank you.
