When I woke up, three things immediately came to mind.
The first: my head hurt, and badly. I couldn't remember a single thing that happened last night, and while that was usually a very good thing in my book, it was something I absolutely couldn't afford at the moment. I readjusted my eyes, the light from outside blasting into my retinas like a laser beam, and I brought my hoof to my face in a feeble attempt to dull the pain; it seemed to be everywhere at once. I took a good, hard look around the room, and that led me to the second thing.
I had absolutely no idea where I was. I quickly realized that this was not, in fact, a room; I was outside. Particularly, in a back alleyway, with red plastic cups strewn about everywhere and rather vulgar graffiti sprayed across the brick walls behind me. The building I had apparently fell asleep behind was rather large, but not like a skyscraper; it looked to be about three stories high, and it was rather old, too, being made of red brick, but not Canterlotian ancient; more like something made around a hundred years or so. That gave me the horrifying tip off that I was not, in fact, in Canterlot, and if that was the case, I had to think about the third thing a lot more than I'd like to have.
I was currently employed by the Canterlotian Orchestra, the biggest and most popular Orchestra Canterlot had to offer. It was my second tenure playing for them; the first time, I had been fired for what Chorus De Capo, the conductor and leader of the group, called "reckless behavior". I had played for many other smaller (yet still notable) groups since then, but just four months ago they had notified me that their lead cellist had to leave for health related issues and that they would be willing to take me back under the condition that I straightened myself out. I had, coincidentally, been let go only two days previously by the Lunar Gardens Orchestral Ensemble, so I gladly took the job and promised to De Capo personally that there would be no issues with me.
I looked down. My bowtie has somehow become attached to my lower left leg, and I had a streak of an unidentifiable orange substance running across my side. My hair was done up nicely because we had a show that night, but now it was entirely free and messy, which was how I actually wore it away from the ensemble.
This? This was an issue.
"Oh, fuck..." I muttered to myself, a worrying tone in my voice evident even to me. I looked down to see a hoofbag that I didn't recognize, and after thoroughly checking through it, saw there was just enough bits to catch a train home; I shrugged, knowing that whoever owned it probably wouldn't be looking for it all too soon. With a jump, I quickly got up from my slumped position and began to walk to my left, where it appeared the ally converged with the street sidewalk. I still couldn't get a glimpse of where I was, but once I found out, I needed to find the quickest way back to Canterlot so I could plead for my job. Again.
My head was still pounding, but I was thankfully able to brave the light and trudge onwards. Wherever I happened to be, it was a beautiful day, and I could vaguely make out some carriages and hoof steps as I advanced closer to the opening. I saw a pair of ponies waltz by it, casually chatting about Celestia knows what, and that was the moment I realized where I was. As I approached the sidewalk, the rustic air of the building I had awoken by spread to the whole area as more buildings came to view, and I could begin to detect the faint smell of a pizzeria as the main street got closer.
"No no no no no no no..." I chanted as I broke into a gallop. My fractured state of denial and hope was entirely shattered as soon as I stepped foot into the sidewalk as the city street came fully into view. The aging yet pleasant architecture, the numerous hipster shops and restaurants, and, most importantly, and absolutely massive skyscraper ominously looming in the distant sky; there was no doubt, and my heart immediately sank as I looked around.
Hooflyn. I was in Hooflyn.
I loved Hooflyn. It had this feeling to it that reminded me of my home in Neigh Orleans, with the quiet and homely vibe it gave off, but it was a little different, too; just a bit less chaotic, but just as welcoming. I was known for being a bit of a partier, so it often surprised people when I told them how much I enjoyed the city, but in my eyes, there isn't a reason not to. I adored the culture, and have considered numerous times moving here after I retired, but at this very moment, I shouldn't have been here, and I had absolutely no idea how the hell I got there.
I began to walk on the sidewalk, because I was thankfully able to recognize that I was close to the train, and I did my best to attempt an explanation for what may have happened the night previous.
Well, I'd bet my right hoof we spent most of the night in Manehatten, because this place sure ain't a party town. If I had to guess, all the crazy shit happened there, and then I came back here by myself for whatever reason, because there isn't anyone I remotely recognize around here, I thought to myself. As I walked, I looked around and noticed plenty of ponies staring at me, which I couldn't help but chuckle at; I DID look like I'd been swept up in a tornado.
I knew where the train station was. I'd been in the city quite a bit, during times when I just needed to get away from everything, so I knew where to leave when the time came to go back to the party. I needed to get to Canterlot soon, I knew, but it was early in the morning, and rehearsal didn't start until one; I would be there just in time if the train left for Canterlot now, although I very much knew that wasn't a guarantee. The street and the ponies became a blur as I idly stared at the ground, and before I knew it, I had made it to the train station.
There were ponies boarding a train, so I had hoped that I had gotten lucky. The pony taking tickets was a tall and lanky middle aged stallion with an unpleasant orange for fur and an equally unpleasant yellow for a mane and tail; when I approached him, his already existant frown grew even deeper once he saw the condition I was currently in.
"When does the next train for Canterlot leave?" I asked him, a pleading tone in my voice even recognizable by myself. The stallion cocked his head towards the train currently at the station.
"Right now. Ten bits," he said in a voice that managed to be annoying and stern at the same time. My face lit up, and I quickly reached into my bag and pulled out the necessary bits for travel. He seemed to grudgingly accept them and handed me a ticket before once again cocking his head towards the train. I semi-eagerly broke into a slow jog and gratefully boarded the train as it was accepted the very last passengers.
The conductor accepted my ticket and I slowly began to crawl towards the very back. I was frequently told I was a "flamboyant" pony, but when it came to public transportation, I just wasn't a fan of the up close and personal. Once again, I got a few stares as I came to the final train car, but as soon as I sat down at the very back, they knew I wouldn't be too close to them and so they went back to their early routines. As the train car fired up and the whistle blew loud into the morning air, I looked out from the window across from me.
Chorus De Capo gave me a second chance when nopony else was really willing to. Why wouldn't he give me a third?
I've been sent to the principal's office many times in my high school career. Since it mostly involved fucking around with all my buddies, I get this stern talk about how "disappointed" the school was with me and that they wished to "correct my behavior". But before the principal did that, he'd always give me the stare; a piercing gaze that would last at least forty seconds before he spoke, to drill in the point that this would not be a friendly conversation.
Chorus De Capo was giving me the stare.
Chorus was ten years older than me, making his thirty six years of age. He was a very good looking stallion, with sharp black fur and a grey mane and tail, with these piercing blue eyes I couldn't quite describe. His facial expression, however, never changed; he always had this serious glare about him, and right now, it was entirely fixated on me. I had arrived a bit later than I had expected, and by the time I reached the practice hall, practice was over and another cellist had filled my place. If that didn't make me feel uneasy, having him ominously stare at me for a lifetime in his office certainly did.
After what seemed like an eternity, Chorus spoke, now turning his gaze downward and swiveling just a bit in his chair.
"So the first time, Octavia, I found you passed out and sleeping on your broken Cello. That was two years ago. I gave you a warning to straighten yourself out, and you did not, and so I released you," he began. I looked down to the ground as well; I didn't need to hear the rest of his spiel to know where it was heading.
"I gave you another chance. You are beyond gifted in music, Octavia; you can literally, and I mean literally, play any instrument with a mastery the likes of which I have never seen. You are superbly talented, and you work with a team very well, and so I thought I'd give you another chance because I very much needed you in time for the Grand Galloping Gala. And you delivered. But today, you woke up in Hooflyn. Not in Canterlot, in HOOFLYN!" He said, shouting the last word with a voice I didn't know he had. I slumped back into my chair.
"So you're here to beg for your job. And I respect that, Octavia, I really do; it shows that you are commited to this ensemble and that you love playing. But you do these things that show me the opposite, and at this point, I am tired of dealing with you. So I'm releasing you, Octavia." At those words, I looked up at him. I didn't know what expression was on my face, but I knew I had to say something; as I was about to, however, Chorus continued.
"But...I have a deal I am willing to make with you." My ears perked up at that, and as I had not said a word since I had sat down, I eagerly nodded. Chorus gave a long, drawn out sigh.
"I know all the conductors from the other ensembles from around Equestria, because we like to coordinate events sometimes," he began. "The conductor of the Ponyville Orchestra, Treble Clef, has notified me that she needs a cellist, and that if we could recommend any in the Ponyville area, she would be thankful. As of this morning, that offer is still available." I was taken aback a bit, and as I was about to protest, I got a sharp glare from Chorus which caused me to draw back again.
"If you can play in that orchestra for one year with absolutelty ZERO incidents, and by Celestia do I mean ZERO...I'll put you back in the lineup here." he said.
"Ponyville?" I said immediately. I'd only been to the town once, and I knew first hand that it was just farm country; there was nothing to do there. "For a year? Where will I live?" I asked. Chorus gave another sigh and levitated a paper up to his line of sight.
"I...I looked at that for you," he began. I widened my eyes; I didn't think de Capo ever really liked me, and to think he was doing all of this for me was astonishing.
"There's a mare who is looking for a roommate at a rather nice house at the west side of the town," he said. "Her name is Vinyl Scratch, and from the description I was given, she appears to be a musician herself. She only posted the advertisement yesterday, and the rent per month is rather cheap." I blinked.
"T-Thank you," I said, trying my best not to be nervous. I paused for a second before deciding to ask the nagging question at the back on my head. "But why? I've done nothing but spite you." Chorus looked down at his desk, and when he looked back up at me, I saw something I had never seen on his face; a grin.
"Because, Octavia," he said in his melodic tone of voice, "I've seen you play that cello."
Author's Note
So before we delve into this story a bit further, I'd like to make a few notes:
Octavia is very out of character, hence the alternate universe tag. I've always seen her depicted in fanfiction as a snobby Canterlotian noble-type pony, and the show reinforced this idea of her, which I think is very good and fitting for her character. However, I always imagined what it would be like if she was this crazy, out of control party animal and Vinyl Scratch was this super reserved and shy pony, and thus this story was born.
The cello mainly plays in Bass Clef, which is why it will serve as the break in this story; the idea that Octavia can play any instrument extremely well comes from the fact that her cutie mark is a treble clef, making her multitalented in my eyes.
I really hope you all like this, because it's an idea I've been having for quite some time. What do you think Octavia will be greeted with when she arrives in Ponyville?
