Chapters Apartment Buildings and Patchwork Quilts
It was the week of Hearth’s Warming Eve in Canterlot. The streets were filled with snow, the air was filled with carols, and the windows of every shop were filled with gifts to buy for family and friends. Mannequins in store windows were decked out with the loveliest, fanciest dresses around. Bookstores had special deals on the class Hearth’s Warming stories. Even apartment buildings were decked out in a rather festive mood: each little patio had different decorations according to the taste of the pony who lived there. Some had banners of red and green hanging down from them. Some hosted families of miniature figures that sat on little tables, overlooking the festivities of the city below. Some just had tinsel or lights wrapped around the railings of the porch, giving off a simple but festive feel. With every square inch of the apartment buildings being decorated in a different way, one would think that they would have appeared chaotic and messy. Yet instead, the colorful Canterlot apartments popped out beautifully in the white snow. Each tiny living space hosted a different pony than the rest, and all of the banners and tinsel and tiny figurines seemed to tell different pieces of one great story of all the ponies who resided in the building.
On a street corner somewhat distanced from the other houses, in a building embellished with elegant silver and gold decorations, a gray earth pony named Octavia was musing on this concept to her uncle while doing the dishes.
“I mean, perhaps at first they do seem cluttered, but really, they’re more like old quilts: lots of different squares, all telling their own stories, and yet each one fits just fine with the one next to it.” Octavia rubbed a china dish dry as her uncle grunted and handed her another one.
“I think they look like a mess.”
“The apartment buildings, or old quilts?”
Her uncle grunted yet again. “Both.”
Octavia opened her mouth to say something in polite retaliation, but she decided to hold her tongue. Her family wouldn’t understand the types of sentiments that she was speaking of. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing— her family had their own point of view, just like everyone else, and the silver and gold decor lining their house contributed to the festivity of the street it was on, much in the same way that the patios did to their apartment buildings. Not that her family was aware they were contributing to anything. They had decorated to please themselves and themselves only, although nopony but the fillies actually seemed pleased.
“Say,” Octavia’s uncle said, snapping her out of her thoughts, “where’s that friend of yours? She could be making herself useful, instead of blasting out her eardrums with music… if you can even call that stuff ‘music’ at all.” He chuckled, and handed Octavia another fragile dish to dry. Octavia winced as she thought about what would happen to the expensive plates if Vinyl tried to help clean them.
“Erm… I believe she’s down in the basement, working on… stuff,” she replied nervously. Inviting Vinyl Scratch to her family’s home for Hearth’s Warming had seemed like the natural thing to do, since Octavia had learned that she hadn’t any living relatives to spend the holidays with, but it was a bit harder for Octavia’s family to accept the situation.
Truth be told, Octavia couldn’t blame them. She remembered very distinctly when she had reacted to her roommate the same way they now did. After all, Vinyl was quite the opposite of everything she was: Vinyl was loud and rambunctious at times, messy and laid-back and rebellious. And even when she was quiet— like the time Octavia had bet her she couldn’t go a whole week without speaking— she somehow still managed to find ways to make a racket. Octavia chuckled thinking about that bet; she had set it up as a way to get a few moments of silence to herself. Goodness, how that had backfired!
While the two ponies continued their dish-washing in silence, a white unicorn with electric-blue hair was lazing on the couch in the basement, blasting dubstep through her headphones. Her makeshift room consisted of the old couch she now lay on, a small end-table and a soda can atop it, a comforter and blankets even older than the couch, and various musical devices littering the floor. Vinyl had done her best to make sure there wasn’t trash lying around, but she didn’t even know how to clean up the space any better than that. She’d never bothered to keep her own room tidy, and she’d certainly never had to worry about uptight, cleanly, sophisticated ponies in her room before. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; after all, she shared a house with Octavia. But at least back at home, Vinyl was allowed to do as she wished with her section of the house.
Ding-dong, ding-dong. Ding, dong, ding, dong. The doorbell chimed a tune throughout the home, bringing Octavia and most of her relatives trotting to the door.
“Now who in Equestria could that be?” her great aunt Allegro questioned, in a proper, snooty voice. Octavia remembered admiring her great aunt above all her other relatives when she was a filly. Now she found her somewhat annoying, and her voice sounded like a badly tuned violin. Actually, all of Octavia’s relatives seemed less agreeable than usual this year, as if the windigos from the original Hearth’s Warming Eve had suddenly swept across them.
The eldest member of the household, Octavia’s great-grandmother (whom everypony referred to as Grandma Melody), opened the door. She blinked and stood back in surprise to see Octavia’s younger cousin, Martha, and Martha’s son Elliot at the door.
“Well… If it isn’t Martha and her little colt. And what, pray tell, brings you here?” asked the elderly pony. The rest of the family looked at the two ponies with a slight look of disgust: Martha, contrary to her musically talented family, had gotten her cutie mark in being a waitress and was currently working at minimum wage in the shoddiest restaurant in Canterlot. And it certainly didn’t help that Elliot was still a blank flank, despite the tendency of the family to get their cutie marks early.
Martha bowed her head in respect, and Elliot did the same. “Mrs. Melody,” she started, not daring to step outside of a formal tone. “I understand that you aren’t too pleased with us—”
“You’re darned right, we aren’t!!” snapped a brisk, older grey pony. Trombone Tony, as he was called, was possibly the oddest of Octavia’s relatives, and the least formal. He had a short fuse, and though not violent, he was the most menacing branch on the Melody family tree.
“Yes, yes, I know,” Martha sighed, then quickly snapped upright. “I mean, I understand perfectly your discontent for Elliot and I—”
“Elliot and me,” corrected several family members at once. Martha blinked in confusion.
“Yes, um, well, y’see… The landlord raised the price of our apartment, and, well, we don’t ask much… We only wish to stay here until the snow stops while I search for someplace cheaper. It’s too cold to sleep outside, at least, not without catching a terrible disease…” she explained hopefully.
“You want us to give up a room for you two?” grunted Trombone Tony.
“Well, yes, but not for very long!” bargained Martha.
“Even if we did have an extra room, you wouldn’t have anything to pay us with, and we don’t have an extra room, so THERE!” Tony grunted with satisfaction. Martha, apparently deciding that situation was hopeless, started to turn around, motioning for Elliot to follow.
“Wait!” Octavia cried, pushing past her aunts and uncles. Allegro looked at her in surprise.
“Why, Octavia, darling, what’s gotten into you?!” The way she said “darling” made it sound as if Octavia owed her some great debt, and was refusing to repay it.
“She can have my room,” Octavia said, without turning around. “After all, I wasn’t paying for it. She shouldn’t have to.”
“And where are you gonna sleep?” asked her uncle. “The kitchen?” He smiled proudly as a few of the other family members snickered.
“I’ll sleep in the basement with Vinyl,” Octavia said without hesitation. Everyone gasped, minus Martha and Elliot, who did not recognize the name. The little colt started to shiver and peered inside the warm house with longing.
“Octavia, darling,” spoke the screechy, badly-tuned-violin voice, “I know you’re used to sharing a room with that…” She coughed. “Ah… ruffian … but this is the holiday season! We wouldn’t want to take your nice quiet room from you!”
Octavia rolled her eyes. “Yes, but darling,” she retorted, in an almost mimicking tone, “We wouldn’t want dear Martha and Elliot to have to sleep outside in the snow during the holiday season, would we?”
Martha looked at Octavia with even more surprise than the other adults. “Why… Octavia…”
“Cousin. You can call me cousin. After all,” she said, glancing back at the others, “we are family.”
Trombone Tony looked like he was about to say something, but just then, a door behind the cluster of ponies swung open. Vinyl stepped out tentatively as everyone turned to look at her. She took off her headphones and put them around her neck.
“Uhh… am I interrupting something?” she asked. It suddenly struck Octavia as ironic that Vinyl’s voice matched her last name— it was scratchy and rough— and yet it was still more appealing than the terrible sound of her great aunt’s voice, which should have been melodic.
“Oh, we got some unexpected guests, that’s all,” said Octavia smugly, motioning for Vinyl to come over. Her family wouldn’t dare appear impolite in front of a guest, even if that guest was somepony they disliked.
“Vinyl, this is my cousin Martha and my first cousin once removed, Elliot. Their landlord raised the rent on their apartment and now they need a place to stay. I offered them my room, so I’ll be sleeping in the basement with you until they can find a cheaper living situation.”
Vinyl nodded approvingly. “Rad.”
Octavia turned to the new guests. “Martha, Elliot, this is my roommate, Vinyl Scratch, also known as DJ P0N-3 in the music industry. She’s also staying here for the holidays.”
Martha held out her hoof politely to Vinyl for a hoofshake. Vinyl misunderstood the gesture and casually brohoofed her.
“Octavia… I-I mean, Cousin,” Martha stammered. “It’s been so long.” Of course, what she meant by “it’s been so long” was “you’ve changed,” but Octavia didn’t mind. Actually, she rather enjoyed the surprised look on her cousin’s face.
“Well…” Trombone Tony said roughly. “I guess you’re staying then. But you’d better not cause any trouble! Now hurry on upstairs and unpack whatever few things you have. Your room is the second one to the left. And don’t you dare touch any of Octavia’s things.”
“Y-yes, sir! Thank you very much! A-and thank you, Cousin!” Martha nodded to Elliot and the two of them fled upstairs before someone could find a reason to kick them out.
The rest of the day was relatively normal. Octavia brought her cello and the rest of her things downstairs, where she stacked them neatly in the corner of Vinyl’s messy room. She then helped her uncle finish doing the dishes and discussed classical music with several of the oldest family members. Martha and Elliot would not stop thanking her for their room, although Elliot wouldn’t speak unless he was spoken to first. Since nopony else showed any interest in speaking to him, Octavia asked Elliot about his hobbies and how he was getting along in life. He seemed honored that an older pony would take the time to have a conversation with him, and was really very pleasant to talk with.
Octavia noticed as she talked with Elliot that Martha was watching her with a curious, wonder-filled look. She supposed it wasn’t without cause: Octavia knew full well that when she and Martha were fillies living in Grandma Melody’s household, Octavia had always been the bossy older cousin, the most proper of the fillies, and a pony who strived to be just like her family when she grew up. And yet, here she was, speaking to a colt as if he were an equal and with as casual a voice as was possible for a Melody. To Martha, Octavia soon realized, the drastic change must have seemed like some kind of magic.
Well, she decided thoughtfully, she wouldn’t be wrong.
It wasn’t, Octavia was admitting to herself while getting ready for bed, a complete act of selflessness to offer my room. While she would have given up her room to anypony in need, she was certainly more eager to offer it to Martha and Elliot than if she had actually wanted the room in the first place. And truth be told, she hadn’t.
Octavia watched as Vinyl walked around the tiny room, attempting to straighten it up the best she could. Really, she was only making a worse mess, but it was amusing to watch her try. Finally, Octavia helped her out, arranging the electronics neatly against one wall and setting the comforter and blankets on the couch. The old patchwork quilt would go on top, she decided, because it was the prettiest.
It had been two days since Martha and Elliot arrived, and it was Hearth’s Warming Eve. Octavia felt selfish for it, but she hoped the snow would last until it was time for her and Vinyl to go back to Ponyville. Partly because she thought it made the Canterlot streets look even more beautiful and elegant than usual, but mostly because she actually liked sleeping with Vinyl. Despite her rough nature, another thing that set Vinyl apart from Octavia’s family was how gentle she was when she was tired. The Melody family was known for being proper at all times, so they weren’t much for physical affection, even among their own family members. As a filly, Octavia had always assumed she would be the same way: her parents only ever kissed on their anniversary or on Hearth’s Warming (which seemed like more of a ritual than an act of passion), and she’d never even seen a display of platonic affection until she moved to Ponyville. In some ways, Octavia thought as Vinyl snuggled against her chest tiredly, she feels more like family than my actual family does.
The next morning, Octavia was surprised to awake with Vinyl still asleep in her arms. Usually she was awake far earlier than Octavia, and already prancing around the house listening to dubstep. And considering her patience level, it was hard not to imagine Vinyl as the kind of pony who would wake up at the crack of dawn on Hearth’s Warming and try to peek at the presents. Though, to be fair, she only had Octavia’s present to open until she got back to Ponyville.
“You’re awake?” mumbled a scratchy voice.
Octavia yelped a little in surprise, then started laughing. “Vinyl! Sorry, you gave me quite a scare! I thought you were asleep.”
She murmured something incoherent in response and buried her face in Octavia’s chest without opening her eyes. She didn’t seem particularly excited or bouncy, as she usually was in the mornings. Octavia frowned.
“Vinyl? Are you alright? You don’t seem well,” she said worriedly.
“I’m just tired,” she muttered, then proceeded to stretch slowly and roll off the couch, shaking herself off like a dog. Her hair was even messier than normal, on account of not yet being brushed.
“Oh. Well… Happy Hearth’s Warming!” Octavia said cheerfully, going to her bag and pulling out a few grooming tools. “I’m going to go clean up. Don’t open any presents without me!”
She had expected Vinyl to shoot up the stairs at the mention of presents, but instead she just nodded and walked over to her pile of things to brush her hair.
Had Vinyl had some bad experience with Hearth’s Warming? Octavia couldn’t remember her ever saying so. And she’d seemed excited at the prospect of spending the holiday at the Melody household. She had always been more than happy to rip apart presents on her birthday or other holidays… was there something Octavia had forgotten?
Upstairs, about an hour later, when everyone was awake, Trombone Tony flicked on the Hearth's Warming tree lights so everyone could admire the beauty of the presents under the tree before they were opened. A few family members took pictures—Octavia would have liked to, but she’d forgotten to pack her camera. She glanced over at Vinyl, who had apparently put on her glasses at some point. It was hard to see her expression through them, but she certainly wasn’t smiling.
“Alrighty, then, we ready to open up our gifts?” asked Trombone Tony. Even he seemed impacted by the cheerful spirit of Hearth’s Warming Eve. Trebbie and Cleffa, the two youngest ponies, squealed with delight as they handed out everyone’s presents. Their mom reprimanded them gently and reminded them to be ladylike, but there was overall good cheer in the air.
“Octavia!” Cleffa said, bringing her a box. Shiny, solid gold wrapping told Octavia that the gift was from Trombone Tony before she even read the tag. Presents were handed out until everyone had a small stack of them, the only exceptions being Vinyl (who only had one present) and Martha and Elliot (who didn’t have any but seemed happy to be there nonetheless.) Then, following the Melody tradition, everyone opened their presents one at a time, popcorn-style. Octavia was delighted to receive some new scores of sheet music, a lovely necklace for formal events, and beauty supplies from her family. Yet she couldn’t focus. She stole a worried glance over at Vinyl.
After ten or fifteen minutes, there were only two gifts left in the room: Octavia’s gift to Vinyl, which sat unopened (as Vinyl hadn’t been called on), and Vinyl’s gift to Octavia, which Vinyl had told Octavia to open last. Trebbie and Cleffa had gone upstairs to play after their gift stacks were gone, but all the other family members looked on curiously to see what kind of crazy knickknack a pony like Vinyl would buy as a gift.
“I’ll go first,” Vinyl said, tearing a hole in the wrapping with her horn. A few ponies raised their eyebrows, wondering why she didn’t just use magic to open the whole thing at once. She seemed to be taking her time, until finally the box was open and she pulled two albums out of the wrapping paper.
“There’s one that you mentioned you wanted the hard copy to, and one of classical music that I plan on making you listen to later,” Octavia explained. Vinyl smiled and a few others laughed, putting Octavia at ease. Vinyl nodded appreciatively.
“Thanks, Octy. Now you go.”
Octavia nodded and eagerly tore off a corner of the paper with her teeth. Vinyl had been adamant about Octavia not opening the gift until Hearth’s Warming, so it had to be good. She gasped as she pulled out… a packet of paper…?
“Read it,” Vinyl said.
Dear Octavia Melody; I am Mr. Woodwinds. You probably already know that several players in Canterlot’s 3rd Royal Orchestra are going to be retiring in the spring, and while we’re very happy for these ponies’ successful careers, it’s going to take a lot of new blood to fill their soon-to-be-empty chairs. We have contacted the best of the best in the classical music industry and they have each given us a list of names they think could fill one of our empty spots. The current available positions and number of ponies competing for each are as follows:
Flute- 6 positions open (20 contenders) Clarinet- 5 positions open (20 contenders) Trumpet- 2 positions open (4 contenders) Trombone- 2 positions open (3 contenders) Percussion- 1 position open (2 contenders) Cello- 1 position open (3 contenders)
If you are reading this, it means somepony we contacted reccommended you to play in our orchestra. You have been chosen as a contender to take a spot as a: Cellist. To audition for this part in our orchestra, please come to…
The rest of the packet was all formal details: where to go to audition, when to go there, what to wear, standards for playing in the orchestra, and others. Octavia felt numb as she flipped through the packet. She had to start over and read it aloud from the beginning because her family was pestering her to “read it aloud, what on Equestria is written that’s making you so pale?!”
As she read the paper aloud, a smile broke across her face. “I… I’m sorry, I just… I can’t believe this is happening!” She had to hand over the paper for her great aunt to read, because she started to laugh uncontrollably. “This… this is really happening!!”
While her family members reacted in shock as her great aunt told them the information, Octavia turned to Vinyl, who was now practically grinning from ear to ear.
“Vinyl… I don’t… how did you…?!” she stammered. Vinyl laughed and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.
“Well, I’m certainly no bigwig in the classical music industry, but I do know a few ponies who are. I mentioned to them that I knew a really good cellist, showed them a few tapes of you playing, and got one of them to put you on his list. I really didn’t do much, I just happened to know about the openings and—”
“Vinyl, this is the best Hearth’s Warming gift I’ve ever received. I… I don’t even know what to say! Thank you!!” Octavia tackled her friend to the ground in a hug. Her family practically glowed in pride.
“Atta girl, Octavia!”
“We knew someday your talents would be recognized!”
“A fine musician, indeed…”
“Why, you could play in the Royal Orchestra!!”
The rest of the day seemed like a blur. All her family members wanted to help her get ready for the audition, so the next several hours were spent making plans for transportation (the winners were to be officially hired in the orchestra on the last day Octavia and Vinyl would be in Canterlot), as well as deciding on an audition piece and an outfit to wear. As her great aunt said with delight, “Always dress for success!”
Martha and Elliot were especially enthusiastic in supporting their relative. Martha helped her decide on a hairstyle to wear to the audition (a tight, fancy bun which the elderly ponies all approved of), and Elliot wouldn’t stop complimenting her on being picked as a contestant. The whole day was filled with so much excitement, it almost slipped Octavia’s notice that Vinyl was mostly absent: only occasionally commenting that she was certain Octavia would get the part, and once coming upstairs to help her get into the black dress she was to wear for the audition.
That night, Octavia remembered that she had meant to ask Vinyl why she’d seemed upset earlier, but Vinyl was listening to dubstep until it was time for bed and appeared to want to be left alone. By the time Octavia remembered to ask her, Vinyl was already fast asleep.
The big day had arrived. It was about a week after Hearth’s Warming, and the stores had all switched their advertisements for the next holiday, which was New Year’s. Octavia and Vinyl were in a carriage on their way to the audition, which was in a section of Canterlot closer to the castle. Octavia fidgeted with her necklace the entire time out of nervousness, and asked every two minutes or so if she’d remembered to put her cello in the back of the carriage. The ponies pulling the carriage were clearly becoming increasingly annoyed with her and would groan every time she asked, but Vinyl, at least, didn’t seem to mind.
“Octavia, you’re going to do great. You’re the best musician I know, I mean, playing-an-instrument wise. And that’s saying a lot.”
“But what if I mess up because I’m nervous? I’ve heard terrible stories about ponies who were completely professional and calm walking into a big audition, but then when they get inside they—“
“Octy, please. That’s not gonna happen to you.” She laughed a little. “Trust me, if being professional is what you need to do to get this job, there’s no competition.”
Octavia sighed. “I don’t just need to be professional. I need to be a good musician, a really good musician. I need to be the best player there, and even if I am, if I’m not good enough they still won’t let me in. I’ve got to be spectacular, I’ve got to—“
One of the carriage ponies cut her off. “We’re almost there.”
“Finally,” another one muttered. Vinyl glared at them and they stopped talking.
As the carriage slowed to a stop and Vinyl helped Octavia unload her cello and music (each contender had to play a five-minute piece of their choosing, along with the sight reading portion of the audition), the earth pony suddenly found herself wishing she had let her family come along to support her. Mostly everypony had to leave after Hearth’s Warming and go back home, but Grandma Melody and Martha and Elliot were still there and had asked to come see Octavia’s audition. She’d ultimately decided that they would only make her more nervous, but now she wasn’t sure anymore.
“Octy?” Vinyl was standing at the door to the audition building, holding it open for her.
“Oh, sorry, sorry! Coming!” Octavia took a deep breath and followed her friend inside. They walked until they came to a room with mirrors all along one wall and a desk set up at the back, where three ponies sat with cold faces— the judging panel, no doubt. There were two stallions; a black unicorn with brown hair tied up professionally, and an earth pony whom Octavia recognized right away as Mr. Woodwinds.
“Octavia Melody?” Mr. Woodwinds asked, looking down at a sheet.
“Yes, sir,” she responded, being careful not to stammer. “Mr. Woodwinds, if I’m correct?” The earth pony nodded.
“And whom, may I ask, is she?” asked the female jude, with a look of distaste. She pointed with her wing to Vinyl Scratch, who was standing in the doorway.
“Oh, that’s my friend, Vinyl,” Octavia said quickly. “The packet didn’t state whether or not onlookers could attend.”
Mr. Woodwinds waved his hoof dismissively. “She’ll have to stay in the lobby, sorry. We can’t afford to risk having ponies cheat, after all.”
“O-oh! Of course,” she said, quickly regaining composure. It hadn’t even occurred to her that somepony would try to cheat to get into the Royal Orchestra. After all, wouldn’t they just be exposed during their first rehearsal if they weren’t as good as they’d claimed to be?
She looked over at Vinyl, who nodded understandingly and walked out to the lobby. “Good luck, Octy. Not that you’ll need it!” She closed the door behind her, leaving Octavia alone with the three cold-faced judges.
“Now then, if you would head over to the music stand, Ms. Melody, your sheets to sight-read are set up on the stand already. You have exactly three minutes to get familiar with the piece before you begin. You tuned your cello before you came, as instructed?” asked the unicorn, in a businesslike tone.
“Yes, of course,” Octavia replied. She tried to quiet her mind while she read the piece— it was a simple enough score, but one mistake could cost her the audition. It was also frustratingly hard to concentrate; random thoughts kept fluttering around her mind in sync with the butterflies in her stomach. For instance, she realized the room in which she was auditioning was probably a dance studio, which would explain the mirrors along the wall.
“Your time is up,” stated the unicorn. “I will conduct you to make sure you keep time. Start when you are ready.” He levitated a baton in the air and started conducting; Octavia gave herself two counts of eight to steady her breathing and make sure she was in proper position, then began to play. She rather liked the piece— it was slow and sweet, and would probably sound fantastic with other orchestration.
Through the audition, the judges made no comments aloud— only scribbled down notes on the sheets in front of them and watched the musician intensely. Octavia knew to expect this, of course, but with so much at stake it made her feel nervous and queasy all over again.
When the audition was over, the judges took her paperwork, asked her a few simple questions about herself (mostly about her work ethic and why she wanted to play in the orchestra), and then let her go.
“You will receive a letter by the end of this week that will state whether or not you have been accepted into the orchestra,” stated the unicorn. “You put down the address where you will be residing tomorrow?”
“Yes, my grandmother’s house. It’s on my paperwork.”
“Then you are free to go now.”
“Thank you very much,” Octavia said, bowing her head in respect to the panel. She carefully put her sheet music in her cello case along with the large instrument, then hoisted it on her back and walked out to the lobby where Vinyl was waiting with headphones on. She quickly slid them off and ran over when she saw Octavia.
“So? How did it go? It went awesome, right?” She bounced up and down slightly in anticipation.
Octavia smiled, reassured by her friend’s predictable behavior. “I hope it went well, thank you for asking. At least I didn’t make any terrible mistakes, as far as I’m aware.”
“See? What did I tell ya?” she beamed, and then proceeded to help Octavia with her case.
As the auditioning nerves faded away, Octavia felt a rush of excitement take their place. “The judges said the letter will arrive by the end of the week, but I don’t think I can wait that long to find out if I made it!”
For some reason, she almost thought she saw Vinyl’s ears droop slightly, but when she rubbed her eyes to check, the unicorn seemed as excited as ever.
“Yea, same here!” she laughed, adjusting her headphones more comfortably around her neck. “Come on, you wanna hit the stores before we go back to your grandma’s house? There’s a ton of stuff on discount now that Hearth’s Warming is over.”
Octavia nodded and smiled. “That sounds wonderful. Although,” she added playfully, “you’d better enjoy your last moments of freedom, because tonight I am making you listen to the classical music I bought you.”
Vinyl rolled her eyes. At least, she seemed to— Octavia couldn’t actually tell, since Vinyl was wearing her tinted glasses.
“Well, we’ll just see about that,” the unicorn responded smugly.
“Well, come on— for the moment, let’s go see how many discounts we can rack up.”
And with a stomach full of butterflies, Octavia walked out the door to enjoy the beauty of Canterlot before the moon was raised for the night.
“Oh, honey, I’m so excited for you! I remember getting my acceptance letter from the Royal Orchestra… of course, back in my day there was only one orchestra, so perhaps it was a bit more impressive, but still!”
Grandma Melody had been in one of her rare, teasing moods since Octavia’s letter of acceptance had arrived. Octavia herself was still in a state of shock and total excitement, and hadn’t quite grasped the fact yet that she was finally achieving her lifelong dream. Vinyl showed no surprise that Octavia had won the spot— she had been confident in her friend’s abilities— but she was excited nonetheless, and listened patiently as the gray earth pony rambled on about the orchestra. Martha was at least as excited as everyone else there, and Grandma Melody even seemed to forget that she was supposed to hold a grudge against her, as the two were chattering eagerly about Octavia’s future as a famous musician. Little Elliot didn’t completely understand the enormity of the situation, but everyone else seemed excited, so he was, too.
“And I am to go in tonight with the rest of the winning contenders, and sign the paperwork to officially join the orchestra!”
“We know, cousin, you’ve only stated it 20 times so far,” Martha joked. “Though, aren’t things moving a little fast? I mean, the letters come out the only a few days after auditions, and then the musicians are officially hired in the orchestra two days after the letter arrives?!”
“Well,” Octavia said as she read over the acceptance letter for the umpteenth time, “it’s not like we start playing right away. Remember, nopony’s actually retiring until the springtime, so that’s most likely when all us newcomers will have our first concert. Although,” she mused, “we will be the understudies for the chairs we’re taking over, so there is a possibility that we could play sooner.”
“Besides,” Vinyl interjected, “the Royal Orchestra is a huge commitment. The ponies in charge want to know that their members have total dedication to it, and that includes putting it first where the calendar is concerned. I’m guessing that’s why the auditions and acceptances are so close together: to get the new members ready for the orchestra’s busy schedule.”
“Oh, Octavia, deary,” Grandma Melody suddenly said with concern, “look at the time! We’ve got to get on a carriage in two hours. You’d better start getting ready.”
Octavia nodded. She was glad that everypony would get to meet Mr. Woodwinds and the other judges, whom she assumed she would learn the names of while receiving her paperwork. She was glad, too, that her family had started treating Vinyl better. Grandma Melody hadn’t made a snarky remark about dubstep since Octavia received her present, and when Trombone Tony dropped by the night before to reclaim his scarf (he had left it there on Hearth’s Warming), he actually extended a friendly “hello” to the DJ.
Upstairs, Grandma Melody and Martha were debating over whether Octavia should wear a dress again or not, while the musician herself took a quick shower. Vinyl had said she had something to do in the basement and rushed off rather suddenly, but this had been a normal habit since Hearth’s Warming, so nopony questioned it.
Eventually, it was decided that Octavia would wear a simpler dress than the last time, and her normal bow tie instead of the necklace she’d worn for auditions. She also didn’t put her hair up, per the suggestion of Elliot, who told her that her hair looked “like a pretty night sky” when it was down (which even Grandma Melody found adorable).
After applying makeup and being escorted down the stairs like a princess, Octavia knocked on the door to the basement.
“Vinyl? Are you down there?”
When there was no answer, she opened the door and started trotting downstairs. She turned back to her family.
“Sorry, I’ll just be a minute. She probably has headphones on.”
She went down the long, winding staircase and crossed to Vinyl’s tiny makeshift room, where-
Octavia caught her breath in shock of what she saw. Vinyl turned around hurriedly, looking embarrassed and unsure of herself. She had taken off her glasses and applied a tiny bit of blue eyeshadow, as well as putting on an elegant, deep blue dress that Octavia didn’t even know Vinyl owned. She’d also somehow managed to tame her hair enough to put it in a simple ponytail, which hung down one side of her neck. Her tail also looked more brushed than usual.
“I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t ready yet, I just wanted to surprise you…” her voice trailed off as she looked at Octavia and nodded approvingly. “Well, you look good, at least.”
Octavia stammered in shock. “I… you…?”
Vinyl looked down. “I dressed up, yea. Or tried to, at least. The judges at your audition didn’t really seem to like me, so I figured I could at least try to make up for the bad first impression.” She stepped outside her room. “I’d ask you to fix my makeup, but I think it’s time to go and I don’t wanna make you late. Sorry!”
Octavia blinked a few times and cleared her throat. “You’re… you’re beautiful as you are. But you didn’t have to do this for me!”
“Yea, I know,” she said, shrugging. “I wanted to. I thought it’d make you happy.”
Suddenly, Octavia pulled her friend into an unsuspected (but not unwelcome) hug.
“It does. This means more to me than you know— just… this whole thing. Everything.” She pulled away and looked straight into her eyes. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.”
Vinyl hesitated for a moment, then nodded and smiled again. “You’re welcome. But, uh, we’d better get going. It’d be less than a good impression if you showed up late,” she giggled.
Outside, the carriage was already awaiting the band of five ponies. Grandma Melody stepped in first, followed by Martha and Elliot (who sat between his mother’s legs), followed by Vinyl and finally Octavia.
It’s happening, she thought in amazement as the cold evening wind blew past the carriage. It’s finally happening.
The happy band of ponies chatted and chattered in the cold as the carriage passed by one of the apartment buildings. Hearth’s Warming was over, but lots of ponies had yet to take down their decorations.
As the chariot rumbled down the street, a pegasus stepped out onto her porch and unplugged her strand of Hearth’s Warming lights.
One square on the quilt of apartments went black.
The ‘coronation,’ as some of the new musicians were calling it, wasn’t exactly what Octavia had expected. For one, each musician was called in one at a time to receive, read through, and sign the official paperwork. For another, not everyone had dressed up for the occasion, although over half did. But there were also some good things that Octavia hadn’t planned on: for one, since all the musicians arrived at the same time and most of them had to wait until the others got their things signed, everyone ended up hanging out in the lobby and discussing music, which was very cool. There were two pegasi Octavia found particularly interesting; they were sisters, new flutists who had the same cutie mark but mirrored. There was also the new tympanist, a somewhat muscular fellow who shared in Octavia’s pain of playing a less common instrument. (“What do you play?” “Tympani. It’s a percussion instrument.” “Oh, so you play the drums?”)
Even Vinyl seemed to be somewhat enjoying herself, though she kept itching her eye. Octavia was worried she had an infection of some sort, but Vinyl assured her that it was probably just something that flew in while they were on the carriage.
“Octavia Melody,” said Mr. Woodwinds, opening the door. A teal and red haired unicorn came bouncing out and hugged her parents as Octavia followed Mr. Woodwinds into the room.
Before any papers were produced, the other judges from the audition were introduced. The pegasus, Ms. Feathervoice, was a vocalist and skilled musician, whom often performed one-on-one training with the lowest chairs in the orchestra and ‘newbies’ such as Octavia. The unicorn, Mr. Rhythmeter, was the father of the current first-chair flutist and also a common substitute conductor for Mr. Woodwinds. While still professional, all three ponies seemed more at ease and ready to chat than they had at auditions.
“So, your name is Octavia Melody,” Mr. Rhythmeter said matter-of-factly.
“Heh… that would be correct, yes,” responded Octavia.
“Well, Ms. Melody.” Mr. Woodwinds said. “We’re going to be working together quite a lot, so why don’t you tell us a little about yourself? Where you come from, family history, that kind of thing.” He turned to Mr. Rhythmeter. “That is what common ponies talk about, isn’t it?” he joked. Everyone laughed. It made Octavia feel much more relaxed to know that even the heads of the orchestra had a sense of humor.
So, briefly, the earth pony gave them the lowdown on her life— her proud ancestry in music and how she earned her cutie mark before anyone else in her class. How she actually got a chance to perform in a smaller Canterlot band once, and how she lost her career because of an accident that was completely not her fault. Her move to Ponyville because money was tight, and how she ended up with a crazy, dubstep-loving roommate who ended up being her closest friend. Her favorite musicians and why she admired them, and her favorite pieces of music to play. Occasionally, one of the older ponies would make a comment, either to state their opinion or make some relative inside joke that Octavia didn’t understand but made the other two ponies chuckle.
“Sounds like you’ve had quite the journey, Ms. Melody,” stated Mr. Woodwinds. Octavia nodded in response.
“So,” Ms. Feathervoice asked casually, “do you have a plan for your move back to Canterlot?”
Octavia’s blood ran cold. She froze.
“Sorry… um… what?”
“Well,” laughed Ms. Feathervoice, “you have until the spring. I didn’t mean to make you feel rushed. I was just curious, since you’d mentioned you were staying with your grandmother for Hearth’s Warming. Are you planning on moving in with her? Or,” she giggled a little, “is once a year more than enough for seeing your family? I could relate.”
Mr. Rhythmeter leaned over to her and whispered, “Mrs. Harshwhinny?”, evoking a chuckle from the pegasus.
“I… I’m sorry,” Octavia stammered, shaking her head. “It had completely slipped my mind that the rules state you need to live in Canterlot in order to be part of the orchestra.” Because the pony had grown up in Canterlot and hadn’t planned on moving, she’d never given the rule very much thought before.
The three judges were silent for a moment, then roared with laughter so loud, Octavia wondered if the other musicians in the lobby could hear.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Mr. Woodwinds said. “I once had a tuba player come in for auditions and he remembered to bring everything except his tuba.”
“Luckily for you,” Ms. Feathervoice commented, “you already have a situation set up! I’m sure your grandmother wouldn’t mind hosting you at her home, if she really has all those extra rooms. And if you do decide you want to move into your own place… well, follow the practicing regimen and do well in the orchestra, and soon your salary will permit it!”
The pegasus’ voice was nothing more than a quiet babble in the back of Octavia’s mind. Flashes of memories flitted around, worse than the thought-butterflies from before. She tried to shake herself off.
“I… I’m so sorry. I just-“ she hesitated, staring at the papers in front of her. “Do you mind if I go for a walk? I- I promise I’ll come back,” she said, trying to make a joke. The others looked at each other, somewhat concerned.
“Well, I suppose just this once. But do know that when you’re actually in the orchestra, unplanned breaks will not be permitted. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather sign the papers before you go on your walk?” asked Mr. Woodwinds.
“N-no, I’m sure. Um- thank you very much. I’ll try to be quick. Y-you can call in the next musician until I come back, if that’ll be more convenient for you. I can wait.” Then Octavia rushed out the door before she said something stupid.
Outside, the bitter cold immediately slapped her in the face. Without the glowing excitement that had been present on the way there, the snow seemed less of a beautiful novelty and more of a hypothermic threat. Octavia was careful not to step in it.
Canterlot, she thought to herself. Of all the things to forget…
It wasn’t that she disliked Canterlot— quite the contrary. It was the most beautiful place in Equestria as far as Octavia was concerned, and as the judges had mentioned, she already had someplace to go. Grandma Melody only disliked Martha because her cutie mark wasn’t music-related; Octavia was welcome anytime. And it wasn’t that she couldn’t bear to leave Ponyville behind— of course, she had made quite a few memories there, and there were a couple shops she would miss, but Octavia had already lived through that ordeal the first time she moved. She could adjust to new surroundings well enough.
The sound of clopping feet became slower as the pony found herself approaching one of the apartment buildings she’d been musing over several days ago. The building seemed even more chaotic than before— now there were not only variants of Hearth’s Warming decorations up, but some ponies had redecorated for New Year’s already, and Octavia noticed one space she hadn’t before, which was decorated for some foreign holiday, with blue streamers and fake candles lining the porch.
Octavia took in a deep breath. Cold night air filled her lungs, and when she exhaled, a cloud of hot steam dissipated into the atmosphere. A sudden, vivid memory, brought on by the cold, rushed to the front of her mind.
A young filly, who had just earned her cutie mark, was being treated to go shopping with her mom to celebrate. The older pony was walking down the avenue stiffly, and the little one was trying to mimic her movements.
“That’s good, Octavia,” she had said, “but you must stop looking at your feet. Holding your head high is very important.”
The little filly did so, and was suddenly aware of the giant building next to her.
“Mama,” she asked, slight disgust in her young voice, “why is this building not color-coordinated? There’s contrasting colors all over the place.”
The mare laughed proudly and motioned for her daughter to keep up. “How smart of you to notice. You see, that’s an apartment building— it’s for ponies that are too poor to own a house. It’s not a bad thing, actually, it’s very helpful for those not as inherently talented as you and I. It does look dreadful, though, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but why?” asked the filly, clearly distraught by the mismatched building.
“Each porch that you see on an apartment building is owned by a different pony. And each pony decorates his or her porch differently, come the holiday season. Even if everypony’s space looks good individually, since there isn’t a pony at the top to coordinate it all, the whole building ends up looking like a mess.” She shook her head disdainfully. “Shame, really. Such a big building should have the potential to be beautiful, but because multiple ponies are working on it, it looks horrid.” She looked down at her little girl. “Does this make you better understand why we need ponies in charge? Without somepony at the top, everything would look as messy as this building.”
The young pony nodded thoughtfully in agreement with her mother.
“You know everything,” she said fondly, evoking a chuckle from the older pony.
Octavia shook her head slowly as she looked at the apartment building once again. Though her memories were not perfect, it could very well have been the same building she passed when she was a child.
“You don’t know anything,” she murmured quietly, “you never understood anything…”
She suddenly stamped her hoof on the ground in anger. How could she possibly have seen this building as ugly? How could she not see the beauty in a patchwork quilt of stories such as this? How dare she ever look down on those less fortunate financially! How DARE she ever have bossed around her cousin, how dare she made her feel unloved!
Filled with a wave of anger, Octavia flung herself against the side of the apartment building, as if to somehow punish her younger self. She wasn’t actually aiming to harm herself— only to take out her rage somehow— but the scratchy walls of the building made her wince in pain.
“How dare you,” she muttered to herself, slightly louder than before. “How dare you not realize what was going on, how dare you think this is your dream.” Somewhat calmed down, and also starting to tremor from the cold, she started walking back, reprimanding herself the whole way.
She stood outside the side door of her destination, where she had exited from. For no apparent reason other than a strong sense that she needed to, she did not allow herself to step inside, away from the cold, until she came up with one more thing to scold herself for, so that this would never happen again. It didn’t take her long to come up with one.
“How dare you try to ruin such a perfectly good patchwork quilt ,” she berated herself.
And then she stepped inside.
“Ah! You’re back!” Mr. Woodwinds smiled. He nodded to Octavia, and she noticed that they hadn’t called anyone in during the time she was gone. Then again, she wasn’t sure exactly how long she had been gone: it might have been five minutes or it might have been half an hour. She’d kind of lost track of time when she slipped into her memory.
“Mr. Woodwinds,” Octavia said, taking a deep breath and walking up to the desk. He held out a quill for her to use and pushed her paperwork towards her. She gently pushed the papers back towards him. All three judges gasped.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Woodwinds, Ms. Feathervoice, Mr. Rhythmeter, but I can’t join the orchestra.” She bowed her head low to the ground; Mr. Rhythmeter jumped up in distress.
“What?! What’s gotten into you?” Mr. Rhythmeter yelled.
“Ms. Melody,” said Mr. Woodwinds calmly, “are you sure you wish to decline? You know that after tonight, you will not be permitted a second chance. And the likelihood of any of the Royal Orchestras hiring you after they hear of this event is slim to none.”
Octavia looked up at the three ponies, humiliated. She blinked quickly to try and stop the onslaught of tears.
“I’m aware. I’m just sorry that I wasted so much of your time,” she said, almost in a whisper.
“Mr. Woodwinds,” cried Ms. Feathervoice, “how can you possibly be so calm about this?!” Angrily, she turned to Octavia. “You are aware that you have been chosen to play in the Royal Orchestra? As a cellist, nonetheless! Are you aware that you blew away the competition? You are, by far, one of the most talented cellists— and musicians overall— that I have ever met. And now you’re walking away from music?!”
“I’m not walking away from music,” she replied, strangely calm. “I’ve been playing small gigs for local affairs in Ponyville for a good number of moons, now, and I’ve actually been feeling perfectly satisfied with my music.”
“Ms. Melody,” Mr. Rhythmeter said in a gruff voice, “you are being offered the chance to be far more than just satisfied, both musically and financially. Why in Equestria wouldn’t you take this opportunity?! We’ve had musicians drop out last-minute before, but there was always a reason!!!”
“There is a reason,” Octavia said, giving a shaky smile, “and I need to go apologize to her.”
She started to walk out, but paused and nodded awkwardly before she went through the door.
“I apologize deeply for your time. I hope you find a satisfactory cellist to take my place.”
As she closed the door behind her, she heard Mr. Rhythmeter calling something incoherent to her, but she couldn’t care less. She breathed a great sigh of relief as she walked into the lobby, where a few of the musicians stamped their feet for her, assuming she had just been admitted into the orchestra.
“So…”
Octavia turned sharply. Vinyl was walking up to her, trying not to trip in her dress. “You’re a musician in the Royal Orchestra now, huh?”
Octavia opened her mouth to say something, but then decided it would be better not to make a scene. “Come outside,” she said quietly, and motioned for her family to follow.
Once outside, Vinyl repeated the question while scratching her eye. Wait, no— she wasn’t scratching it, Octavia suddenly realized, she was wiping away a tear. She was trying not to cry.
Oh, for the love of Celestia, Octavia thought silently to herself, how dare you be such an oblivious idiot.
“Actually,” she said, clearing her throat, “I’m not.”
“Excuse me?” asked Grandma Melody, not sure if she was joking or not.
“I said, I’m not a musician in the Royal Orchestra. I realized I didn’t want to be.”
“Wha-?!!? How could you-?!? Octavia Melody, is this a joke?!!” inquired her grandmother, in a tone that was far scarier than Mr. Rhythmeter’s or Ms. Feathervoice’s had been.
“No, it’s not. And I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, but I’ve realized that playing in major symphonies and practicing all the time isn’t what I want to do with my life,” she explained patiently.
“Wait, what?!” Vinyl interjected. “O-Octy, what are you talking about? Th-this has been your dream for years! Since you were a filly!”
“I know,” Octavia replied, “but I’ve changed since then.” She gently stroked Vinyl’s mane, accidentally-on-purpose pulling out the band out of the blue ponytail and watching her mane spring back to its normal shape. “You’ve changed me.”
Her great-grandmother, raging, started to say something, but Martha of all ponies put up a hoof to the elderly pony’s mouth casually and watched the scene in front of her in intrigue.
“Octy… I don’t understand…” Vinyl whispered in a raspy voice. “You wanted this so badly. It… it was your ultimate wish.”
“Vinyl, my ultimate wish was to be happy. I mean, really, that’s what it is for everyone. A wish is something you hope will come true, so you’ll be happy, right?”
Vinyl nodded, still confused. Martha and Elliot and even Grandma Melody now stood perfectly still, watching her talk.
“Well… playing in the Royal Orchestra won’t make me happy anymore. When I realized I’d have to leave my home in Ponyville— our home— to move here… I couldn’t do it. I would miss you too much.”
“Octavia…” Vinyl whispered quietly. A tremor ran through her body and she couldn’t prevent herself from crying any longer.
The same part of Octavia’s brain that forced her to punish herself was now nudging her to keep talking. You need to apologize, it said.
“Vinyl… I-I’m sorry I was so blind to what was going on. In all my nervous excitement, I legitimately forgot that only ponies who lived in Canterlot could play in the Canterlot orchestras.” She swallowed hard, and paused a moment to steady her breath. “If leaving you to live on my own is the cost for being in some big symphony, then I don’t care what the payout is. It’s not worth it.”
By this point, both ponies had tears streaming down their faces. Grandma Melody was using all her brainpower trying to figure the situation out, while Martha held Elliot closely as he watched with peculiar childlike understanding of the magic that had so drastically changed his mother’s cousin.
Vinyl rubbed her eyes vigorously with her hooves, trying to stop the onslaught of tears. “Octavia, I-I wanted to make you happy… if this isn’t what you want, then what is?”
The answer to that question came as an epiphany. “I already have everything I want,” the gray mare realized out loud. “I have my music, and my family, and a home… and most importantly, I have you.” She looked straight at Vinyl, who was trembling violently, from the cold or something else entirely.
“Vinyl… you’re more than just my roommate. You’re my friend. You’re my best friend,” she said shakily. “And I… I love you, Vinyl.” She opened her arms awkwardly for a hug; Vinyl paused and then tackled her to the ground, pressing her face into the earth pony’s shoulder and holding her tightly.
“That’s it,” muttered Grandma Melody quietly, “I live in a family of crazy ponies. I’m going to call the cab.” She quickly trotted over to the street corner to call over a carriage.
“Octavia,” Vinyl mumbled, not letting go of her friend. Tears still streamed down her face. “I… I love you too… b-but I th-thought I was going to lose you…” She choked on the words.
“Vinyl,” Octavia suddenly said in a stern tone, “Please. Never give me a gift like this again.” Suddenly, exhausted from emotions, both of them started laughing at the same time, still crying hard and still not letting go of one another.
“Elliot,” Martha said quietly to her son, “I hope you’re watching this.”
The colt nodded thoughtfully to himself.
Back at Grandma Melody’s house, an old patchwork quilt sat on the couch in the basement, unharmed and ready to give warmth to anyone willing to use it.
