Flip a Coin and She Smiles
Your Door Opens, and I Walk In
There you are! I was looking for you. How’s it going? Sorry for barging in, I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but—I want to show you something. I just found out, and I think you can really give a fresh perspective on this. It’s exactly what I need, I’d say. I’m trying to prove a point, see? It’s a little tricky to explain, but I think it’s the real deal. Listen:
I think that what matters—what really matters—is how you choose to see the entire thing.
That’s it. That’s what I’ve been struggling with lately. It’s not the story, you see. It’s not even the way it’s told, although some might fight me over that. It’s all about the perspective, and what you’re willing to take with you.
I can show you.
Listen—I promise this will make sense in a nick—before we even start, I’m going to flip a coin. I choose tails, okay? There it goes. Now let’s move on, let’s move on, don’t think about it too much, just remember I did this…
And now look around you. Look where we are. Canterlot, the city of a thousand wonders! Here, we’re going to watch a story unfold.
Now, of course, a story needs a protagonist. I know just the perfect one for it, don’t worry, I just can’t quite locate her right away…
Ah! There she is! Just look at the mare in front of you—Octavia, she’s called. But, of course, you already know her. She’s brilliant, isn’t she? Absolutely brilliant. A little ray of sunshine; I’ve personally never seen her sad. She smiles when she dances. I don’t know about you, but that’s what I love about her.
You wonder if she’s really happy, though, right? To be honest, so do I. She lives alone, and I really don’t like her place. It’s in this ancient part of Canterlot, full of big, old mansions, and she’s got one all to herself. It feels empty, somehow. Like something is lacking there. Such a pretty young mare, in such an old, sad house. It’s a shame. And it’s easy to notice, I think, because her smile isn’t really there. It just never quite reaches her eyes.
That is.
Until she gets that letter.
Look! Look how she shines! I can’t read the letter from here—can you? No? We’ll have to guess it, then—but just look at that smile. Something clicked, didn’t it? Beautiful. Now everything seems brighter around her. That letter was a real life-saver, if I may say so.
Ah, I see you already imagine what the letter says. Well, if that’s the case, there’s no reason to beat around the bush. We just need to flash forward a couple days, and then there she goes! Watch her run! She’s going to the train station, you know. She’s a little bit late, but if she keeps it up, she might arrive just before the train, and then—oh. Yes, she made it, but did you see who came out of the train? Guess our hunch was right, eh? The letter said she was going to come.
Vinyl Scratch.
You recognize the name too, right. She’s got fire, that mare. Tells a lot about a pony, hiding those eyes behind a pair of shades like that. Makes you wonder, I guess I mean. She smells like violets and gunpowder, and her mane is a mess—but never underestimate that one, oh no. Sharp as a knife… and she’ll cut you if you get too close.
And boy do those two hit it off right away! Like two pieces from the same puzzle, right on. Does wonders for Vinyl to have someone smiling around for once, I’d say. Can’t be healthy to be that gloomy all the time. Just look at that grimace!
Octavia seems to like it, though. I guess that, for somepony who’s always so happy, a more down-to-earth pony might be a good thing—she’s not weighing her down, but she is being rational, and, to be honest? Have you ever heard Vinyl Scratch talk? It’s crazy. It’s one of those genius folks, she dominates every conversation, no matter what it is about. She just knows all this stuff.
Right, right, moving on, moving on. Are they living together now? Why yes, of course they are; Vinyl needs a place, and Octavia’s is too big anyway. What do you think? And I don’t know about you, but I believe they’re getting along perfectly. Yes, I know they only do small talk, but… That’s what really makes a friendship, right? It’s the small things at first, and then you move to the big stuff. And just now Octavia said—you would have heard, if you weren’t talking to me—that she will walk Vinyl around the city. Get to know Canterlot, or something. Well, it is a big city.
Oh, you saw that? Yeah, Vinyl likes to work at night. She barely sleeps anyway, I’m told. Plus, she has to practice at some point, and it’s not like Octavia is going to let her do it while they’re walking around, is she?
For the concert, I mean. Practice for the concert. Oh, no need to ask about it, there’s a sign right there. They’re plastered all over Canterlot, really—Spring Festival’s main attraction: the one and only Vinyl Scratch! She’s not that famous, actually, but I guess that she’s got a cult following.
Now… I’m going to be honest. We need to speed this bit up. Both you and I know how this is going to end. Octavia is always smiling, Vinyl is always brooding, they live together, and they get along well. Maybe a little too well, hmm? So what if we give them some privacy? Some ponies need to be left alone so they can make a move…
…and I think I got a glimpse of Vinyl stealing a kiss last night. It might have been my imagination, sure, but you don’t think so, now do you? I told you. She’s got fire.
But I’m not here to show you a love story, I’m here to prove a point. So let’s flash forward—and don’t peek! That night is theirs, not yours, and I told you Vinyl doesn’t sleep much—and introduce the third player in this game.
Oh? I like that spark in your eye. You’re perfectly right, of course; I wouldn’t trust him either.
He’s the Stallion in Black. I don’t even think he has a name, he’s more a symbol than a pony at this point. Look at him, glaring from the distance. It’s hard to notice him, I know. Your eyes drift to Vinyl on their own, don’t they? She’s got all that energy, it’s mesmerizing. Don’t bother looking for Octavia in the crowd, by the way—she’s most likely at the stage, too, in some weird hidden spot so she can see everything from Vinyl’s point of view. I don’t know, because it’s romantic or something? They’re artists, they think like that.
But the Stallion in Black? I don’t blame you if you didn’t want to look at him. He was there, glooming in the corner. He had the most devious snarl.
Let us flash forward again, only slower, this time. Look at the Stallion in Black, drawing closer every time. Look at—did Vinyl just notice him? I didn’t get that. Did she?
Hm. I don’t like this. We should make sure—I mean, he’s the Stallion in Black, this is important—but I don’t really know if going backwards is a good choice. What do you think?
Right, you want to see what point I’m trying to prove.
Then let’s continue, I suppose. Oh! The Spring Festival is ending. Let me slow down a little, I want to see this. Look at Vinyl! She’s smiling so much. And Octavia is… Gosh. Let me enjoy this, please. Call me a sentimental one—I know I am!—but there’s something special about the smile of a mare that’s really happy, don’t you think? And they really have it all right now. Vinyl’s made the step from cult hit to actual hit. It’s amazing how many ponies came to her last concert. And Octavia is… Well, she’s Octavia. She’s just happy.
Ah! Look at him! There, right there, by the table! The Stallion in Black! He’s almost at the stage now, right? I don’t think we’ve ever seen him this close.
I… I don’t really like the way he’s looking at Vinyl. If looks could kill, this would be a war crime. This is a happy moment, but he doesn’t look the part.
I guess it’s good that our two main mares aren’t looking in his direction. They’re too busy gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, I suppose. I don’t like it when they’re so sickeningly sweet, but if the alternative is to see the Stallion in Black…
…Let’s just move on.
Faster, I say. Faster! This is taking too long, and I want to show you the end of the road. Months pass, years pass, watch them go by, faster and faster.
Wait. Let’s stop here. I think it’s the moment. I want you to watch this.
Look at Octavia.
Look at how she kneels down.
That diamond has been passed along in her family for generations. Guess everypony has their traditions, even in cities like this one. Personally, I never got married—can you imagine?—I just never saw the point of it all, I found it silly. But seeing this? I sort of… get it. I’m not one for melancholy, but remembering is not always bad. It’s all about the way you look at it, really.
Oh, and of course they’re dancing. One can only express so much joy just by laughing, don’t you think? And I heard they’re leaving this old, big house, too. That’s the plan, they don’t want a Canterlot wedding. They’re moving to Ponyville.
Let’s go with them! It isn’t that far away. It’s a little town by the Everfree—oh? You know Ponyville already? My, aren’t you the worldly one. But I bet there’s something you don’t know. The Everfree isn’t the worst thing in Ponyville. The Stallion in Black lives there.
I know. I thought the same. Let’s just move in space as well as in time. Ponyville, this small wonder of a town that can bring so many things. That? That sound’s the wedding bells, I’m glad to say. To your right.
Feast your eyes, if you want to. Personally, I’m glad Vinyl chose to wear the tuxedo. She looks dashing. Shame about the shades, really, but a little bit of mystery always keeps the marriage going, as they say.
Yes, that’s him next to the altar. I hate the way he looks at Vinyl. No, I don’t think it’s anger either, but it’s… I don’t know.
Oh. Right. Yes, you’re perfectly right. It’s greed. He looks at Vinyl with greed.
Who is he? I think ‘what’ is he is a better question, actually. The way Vinyl talks with him, I’d say he’s a powerful one. He can make them or break them, and he can turn Vinyl into a real superstar, if she only listens to his advice. There’s so much potential in her.
Octavia just frowned. You missed it, because you were too busy looking at Vinyl, watching her get excited… But Octavia just frowned, on the day of her wedding. She can sense the trouble, let me tell you. That mare is not a genius like Vinyl, but sometimes she can be more perceptive.
But then again, who can blame Vinyl? She just got married. I guess she feels the weight of the responsibility now. She has to go on, and make a real living out of her art. She’s got a household to take care of.
See, it’s not—well, I can show you instead of telling you. See that? That’s Vinyl, frustrated. What she just tore to pieces was her next song, because the Stallion in Black said it wasn’t good enough. He wants the very best, and I guess his tastes are refined.
Oh? Well, I don’t know if he’s right. I disagree with his methods, though. You wanna know what I mean? Okay. Then we’ll go slower over this, so you can catch all the details. I’ll stand by and watch. You’ll see what I mean.
Go on.
Did you see it?
He never compliments her, does he? I understand that criticism is right, but there’s a point where it verges on destructive. And I don’t think he’s really getting it. I mean—you heard her music, right? It wasn’t exactly mainstream. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that what he is saying might be seen as right if Vinyl wants to be absolutely popular. And she wants that, more than anything.
But does she really need it? I think they’re misunderstanding something. You caught a glimpse of what Octavia keeps telling her, didn’t you? That she’s doing it wrong. Vinyl is an artist, she’s got a message, and the Stallion in Black wants her to do something that is, quite plainly, not her thing. She’ll never shine like that. She became a hit because she was weird. Sure, she’ll never get to be really big if she keeps it that way, but she’s just not made for that kind of life. She’s devolving as a musician.
And that’s not sadness in Vinyl—that’s depression. Have you ever hit a wall when trying to create something? You ever put all your heart and soul into something you knew you were good at, only to have some symbolic, nameless Stallion in Black tell you you’re worthless, then kick you when you’re down?
Yes, I know Vinyl is smart, but… This is the bit about smart folks like her. It’s both a blessing and a curse. They analyze their own work, you see? They have this, this ideal in their minds, this picture of perfection that nothing they ever create can match. And I guess they get obsessed. They have the right mind to point out exactly how much they’re deviating from their goal.
Let us walk by, watch the time pass, and see how the cycle repeats itself. Brickwall after brickwall. Vinyl just started from scratch again, didn’t she? It’s the fifth time she’s done that. I think I saw her sleeping a little, yesterday, in her studio. Octavia saw her, but I guess she was too scared of waking her up to move her to bed. They barely talk, nowadays. And it’ll only get worse, trust me—little by little, bit by bit, Vinyl will get more and more focused on her work, and no matter how much Octavia loves her…
Well. A marriage goes both ways, is what I mean. And right now, as much as I understand Vinyl’s struggle, she’s not giving anything and is taking everything. She’s frustrated, and keeps overworking herself, and obsessing about her work, and Octavia is just pushed away, because she’s just in the way, now.
Why? I don’t know. I think Octavia did confront the Stallion in Black, but I guess Vinyl just brushed it off. I don’t know if it’s pride or just fear of her wasting all these years, and then she got even worse, and…
Yeah.
And so, time flies by, but now the cycle is not happy, and day by day… Look at Octavia. Look how she gets gloomier every day. She’s still smiling, but she doesn’t dance anymore.
I guess you can watch the rest, if you want. That’s Octavia, leaving a note behind. I don’t know if she does it so it’s easy for her, or because she just doesn’t talk with Vinyl anymore. I think she was crying. But I can’t be sure.
She left the diamond behind, though. I guess she didn’t have the heart to take that from her.
If you wait three days, you’ll see that Vinyl eventually finds the note.
Have you ever seen a pony die? Not really, but on the inside? That’s what happens. There’s a spark that—it’s just. Gone. Forever.
But Vinyl won’t move on. She’ll just stay there, forever, the Stallion in Black always watching over her. She started all this for Octavia, and in the end, it didn’t matter.
And the curtain falls, and the words ‘The End’ cover the screen, I guess.
But wait, don’t go away yet! Remember, back when I started, how I flipped a coin? I chose tails. Now, I choose heads.
And see—it all goes backwards. What if I told you we’ve been seeing it all in reverse? Everything happening the other way?
Look at it now, under this new light. Try to remember everything and give it that twist. Vinyl has always had that diamond, the Stallion in Black has always been watching over her. Her eyes are dead. She’s hit a brick wall. No matter what she does, she’s obsessed, she can’t move on. She’s got no reason to go on…
That is.
Until she gets that letter.
I can’t read it either—a note, we called it before, but I think some little details change when you look at things the other way around—but we can guess what it says. Before, Vinyl died when she read it, but now? Now she comes back to life.
Because Octavia is coming.
And that’s the beauty of it, don’t you think? Look. Before, every day was worse than the previous, but now? Look at them! If we speed up the process, it makes even more sense. Vinyl is still having a bad time—you can thank the Stallion in Black for this—but Octavia, who’s always a little ray of sunshine, no matter what, is there.
And hey, bit by bit, I think her magic is working. I told you before, right? It’s good for Vinyl’s health to have somepony smiling around her, for once. Sure, they don’t talk much at first, but Octavia sure is breaking the ice that’s been trapping Vinyl for so long.
The Stallion in Black? Oh, he’s still doing his work, I told you. Look! Now we can see it—Octavia did, indeed, confront him. I’m sorry we missed it that time, but nothing like the present, right?
Yes. That was, indeed, Vinyl supporting Octavia. I know, it’s the first time she ever confronts the Stallion in Black. I think they can make it.
Well, no. I know they can make it.
This ends in marriage, doesn’t it? We can go faster, always. Watch them grow closer. Watch Vinyl forget about popularity, remembering what it is to enjoy creation. See how the Stallion in Black loses his powers, slowly but surely.
Yes, I saw it too. This time, Octavia stole the kiss, didn’t she? I love that mare so much.
We’re at the wedding already? I guess there’s no sense in telling a story twice, if you know all the important beats. I think they said they’re moving to Canterlot—away from this little town, and from the Stallion in Black. No, you’re right, he’s still next to the altar, I’m seeing him, but… Don’t you think it’s interesting, how Vinyl never looked at him? All her life under his shadow, but today, Octavia is the center of her world.
And we move on, again, and two months later, Canterlot has never looked so pretty. Don’t you think?
Ah. Right. Maybe it’s about how the Stallion in Black is not here anymore.
Now, let’s go faster. Faster! Watch Vinyl grow as an artist, become more and more centered on what she wants to do! Watch them going out, walking around the city, getting to know Canterlot! See the years fly by, see the way they smile!
And we’re almost at the beginning now. I want you to stay with me. Remember the Festival? Vinyl got the gig, and they couldn’t have been happier. She stopped obsessing, and so she got what she wanted. Isn’t it ironic?
Of course, the concert is going to be—ah! See? There! Look there, look there! The Stallion in Black has returned! And he’s near the stage. I don’t think either of them will notice him. And honestly, this is probably what he hates the most. You just need to see his eyes to know this.
No need to worry, though. We know how this is going to end. I mean, the first time he drew close, so now… Exactly. He goes away. Look at him—we’re at the third concert, and he’s barely visible.
Oh? Vinyl caught him this time, you say? Well, I don’t see any change in her face, but if you say so, then it’s probably the truth. Maybe it says a lot about his influence and how weak it is now, how Vinyl didn’t really react to him. The difference is that now she has Octavia, while back then, she was losing her.
One can’t fight the Stallion in Black alone, I suppose. He’s a tricky one. But they have defeated him—Vinyl is happy, Octavia is smiling, and, frankly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The best smiles are the ones that have a meaning behind them, I’d say. And now they dance every day. I guess that, from their point of view, this house they live in is not old and sad. It’s just full of possibilities, don’t you think?
It feels lively. Just like them. Happiness is more than just a mood, after all—one can be angry, or sad, or even crying, but… Look, you just need to see their eyes. We can go to a point in time where they’re arguing with each other—this one seems about right—and still… See? See their eyes?
They shine, a little bit. It’s like, no matter what, they are happy. Where it matters, deep in their hearts, they’re happy. Vinyl’s is more subtle, I guess—I swear that mare is addicted to glooming—but, I mean, look at Octavia! Look at how brilliant she is! Look at how amazing life is for her!
That is.
Until she gets that letter.
We were ready, but Octavia wasn’t. Have you ever seen a pony die? Not really, but on the inside? That’s what happens. There’s a spark that—it’s just. Gone. Forever.
Of course you have.
The house looks so big and old and empty now. Too much for Octavia, I guess. She’s still keeping that diamond—and because of the way this works, I’m guessing she’ll keep it forever. I don’t know what Vinyl went away to do, but we do know she won’t come back.
You can read the letter, if you want. It’s right there, on the table. No, I won’t read it myself. I already know what it says.
A tragedy, right? The train went off-rails. Not enough left to bury. There’ll be no funeral.
This is truly the end, and we’re right at the beginning. Octavia still smiles when she dances, but something is not there, and I guess it won’t be there anymore. She’ll live alone in this lonely house, until the last of her days.
I guess her smiles will never be quite as bright.
So all in all, they can’t really be that happy, can they? Heads or tails, we all lose.
Or do we?
Now, this is my point. Remember? It’s not the story, or how you tell it. It’s how you look at it. What do you think is a happy ending anyway? For them to live happy ever after? Well, certainly, you’re spot-on on that.
But there are more kinds of happiness. It’s all relative, depends on the eye of the beholder. Think about it. The first time around, they had a fantastic life, up until the end, when it went down. They lived a romance at their fullest, and then it withered out. Quietly, slowly.
Is that sad? It is, if you only look at the ending. But what if you look at the start? At the many years they spent together? A bitter end leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but they lived their entire romance to the fullest, and then let it go once it was not there. They experienced the whole thing.
And the second time around? Well, they saw it ending at its peak, so they didn’t have to watch it wither. I don’t know if it would have withered this time—we never got to see it. Vinyl was taken from Octavia too soon… But maybe the Stallion in Black would have returned.
What I mean is, you have to look at the full picture, yes? The ending was more bitter than sweet, but no matter what, they’ll always have the memory of the good days. Maybe the first time around, they meet again one day, and they defeat the Stallion in Black. Maybe the second time around, Octavia decides that losing a loved one is better than never loving in the first place.
So was this a sad story, or a happy one?
Well, I don’t know. Depends on what you think. Heads or tails, we all lose… but no matter what, they are together. There are good days, and they outnumber the bad days. Sure, the Stallion in Black casts a long shadow, but if you allow me to get mushy one last time, I like to think their smiles shine just a little bit brighter.
In the end, they lived two lives. Two halves of a happy romance, two halves of a tragic one… Whatever you choose, it makes a whole. So the ball is in your court.
It’s all relative, is what I mean.
