Decrescendoby Milo_ChalksChaptersMeetingsAloneArrangementsMelodyMeetingsHave you ever gone for something you thought would be so stupid and unattainable, and it ending up changing your life forever? A collab deal with someone as famous as DJ-Pon3 was just that, but I wouldn’t give up. The day I got the letter from my manager, I nearly completely ruined the contract with my shaky hoofwriting. We wanted to arrange the collab to be an orchestral backing to his new electronic sound. And so with a week of persuading and an iron determination, I ended up sitting nervously in Svengallop’s office, his decor not going past a rug and a trophy rack. A square office for a square pony. The manager himself quickly marched into his office, slamming the door shut with his back hoof and, walking right over to the other side of his desk in his plain dark office chair, he looked over to me on the other side of his desk, scanning me up and down he lifted up some papers and began to read the top. “Octavian Melody, cellist.” He started in his upper-crust Canterlot accent, scanning along the contract paper sitting on his side of the desk.“You are here to collaborate with my client Record Scratch, yes?” I felt my chest tighten, this was really happening. I was sitting in a meeting with Record Scratch’s manager arranging a collaboration on his new album. “Correct Mr. Gallop, did you get the demo I sent you?” I asked, shuffling my hooves under the chair, trying to give myself something to spend all of the excess nervous pumping through my body on. Sven looked at me for a few seconds, looking like a tiger ready to pounce and crush my dreams in a single sentence. Yet, he got up from his chair and walked over to a small buffet he had against the wall, a record player sitting on the bench next to a small bar he had for ponies obviously more important than some wannabe looking for a collab with one of his star clients. “This little track, correct?” He flicked a small switch on the player, my demo already being in the player. I noticed a small bin next to the buffet, gulping as I saw a pile of broken up records overflowing from it. Returning to his chair and leaning back, he threw his rear hooves onto his side of the desk. “I am not going to lie, you are very talented… but don’t get complacent; so were they,” he added, gesturing to the bin. He quickly dropped his hooves from the table, leaning forward and looking right into my eyes. “Wanna know why they ended up in the bin? Every single one of those so called ‘potential artists’ wanting to work with my artists?” He asked, getting right into my face. “Umm, no?” I asked, using every last bit of courage not to shrink away from his obvious challenge. “One word, kid: personality. You want your name to shine? You gotta shine with it, music is cute and all, but these days there are hundreds of ponies that can play like they know what they are doing. But talent doesn’t sell, so show me what makes you different from the fifty members of the orchestra that came in today to be able to collab with my star and send their name into the stars.” I leaned forward, putting my hooves onto his desk and leaning forward. “Personality huh?” He leaned forward as well, getting very close to my face and narrowing his eyes as my track still softly played in the background. “Show me what you got.” He leaned back, smirking as he waited for me to make my response. I leaned back as well, taking the prompt. “Well if you are expecting me to tell you how much I just love music and how I am so dedicated to this art. How I took ballet from a young age and made Mummy and Daddy buy me all the things I needed to be the best I can be, for starters you can fuck off.” Svengallop went to open his mouth and interject, but I quickly shot him a look before he could answer. “Don’t! You dare interrupt me while I tell you shit you don’t care about! I glared, making his face turn quickly to shock, followed by a look of pleasant surprise. “Yeah, I grew up in some low class family on the cusp of Canterlot. Earth Pony racism and all that jazz, wanted to prove my dickhead parents that I didn’t need a horn or anything special.” I decided to tone it down from here, seeing the interest on his face as I kept going. “I’m quirky, different. I’m not like other ponies… I… I want to help other ponies, but it’s complex. I don’t feel like I need fame or adoration to do that. “I am tame and I listen and I do what I need to do to get things done. No less. I don’t delve too hard into the realm of alcohol and I’m still a virgin… being a string player does that. But yeah… I got dirt, baggage whatever you wanna call it. I worked damn hard to be where I am am and if you think for one second that you, or some other bureaucratic are gonna fuck with my pathway that I bled to carve, you better watch out. And if think that I will ever give up, you’re dead wrong, Gallop.” Svengallop took a second. He looked me up then down, curiosity all over his face, stroking his chin carefully from the other side of the desk. Something took over me, I don’t know what it was. Nerves? Adrenaline? I couldn’t tell you. I got up from my seat and plucked the record from the player, stopping the demo in its tracks and putting it in it’s slip. “Let me do you a favour, Gallop.” I snapped it in half and threw it in front of him. He looked down at the folded slip, the cracked record inside. “Why?” he asked, picking it up slowly. “It’s about personality, isn’t it? You don’t need that stupid thing, you’ve heard what you need to hear.” I plucked the record out of his hooves and threw it into the bin, walking to the door. “I’ll be checking my mailbox.” I opened the door, looking back at the stunned stallion. “See ya later Sven, nice chat.” I shut the door to his office, crumpling to the floor and shaking uncontrollably as I crawled my way down the empty hallway. I sat there on my couch in my little apartment for I don’t know how long… I can tell you I wasn’t able to do much. I vaguely remember reaching for some peppermint tea, then after I found it, I ended up on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket listening to some music and sipping it. If someone had dared to show up, I think they may have actually been scared for my health. But… I just didn’t know what to do, everything was on autopilot. The last thing I expected was a knock on the door. Yet through my shaky haze of complete and total system shutdown, I barely managed to hear the frantic knocking threatening to bust my door down. Lazily getting up and trudging over to the door, I swung it open, my manager looking up in horror at greeting my current half-self. I must have looked shocking because he actually took steps backward at the sight of me. “What the fuck have you done to yourself?” “Nice to see you too, String Puller…” I grumbled, turning around and walking back inside. We both headed to the kitchen, where I threw on the kettle and found the lemon peppermint teabags I have specifically for our little meetings. “Now, please. Just get it out the way, Svengallop wants somepony else, I didn’t get the gig. I don’t give a shit, I already figured that, just give me plan B or whatever.” String Puller gave me a very professional look and shook her head, leaning against the counter, “There is no plan B this time, Octavian…” I looked up in fear, not believing what had come out of her mouth. If I was shaky before, I was a wreck this time. “Wh-what do you mean… You’re giving up? Wha…. there has gotta be something! For real? What the fu-” “Octavian!” She shouted over my panic attack, bringing me back to earth slightly. I didn’t even realise my iron grip on the countertop and hooves looking like they were about to give way. “Firstly, sit down, because I am actually scared for your mental health right now. Sit down and I’ll get you some water.” She has always been really to-the-point, but that’s what I like about her. She just has this no bullshit approach to how she handles her clients that really reassures me. She tells it like it is, I appreciate that. I stumbled my way to the couch and waited for her, shaking like a foal on caffeine. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally came back from the kitchen and put the glass of water on the coffee table. “Now, will you let me finish?” She folded her hooves and sat on the lounge chair, her proper pose seeming more appropriate for a corporate meeting than my cheap apartment. I nodded my head rapidly, clutching the water and trying my best not to spill it as I downed the drink in one go. “There is no plan B because you don’t need one… Svengallop contacted me.” I hate it when she pauses for dramatic effect… I swear she does it just to piss me off. At least she isn’t a square all the time though. “You’re in.” Author's Note This is... a pilot. Small, experimental and ready for criticism! I am super keen to start this, it is like nothing I have ever written before and kind of signifies a new way or writing for me. I am kind of over writing sappy puppy love stories (for the time being, not that there is anything wrong with writing a bit of fluff). I am keen to get into some nitty gritty stuff with a lot more conflict and a lot more gay fun stuff! I hope you can stick around. -Milo AloneAuthor's Note Warning This chapter will contain MxF intimacy (ironic right?) Alone Now don’t get me wrong, I took this chick out to dinner first. Well… is takeaway considered a subcategory of taken out? I bought her dinner, which is the main thing, well, not that the dinner was on her mind when we started making out on the kitchen table. I’d take a few steps back, but there aren’t any steps to go back from. One minute we’re eating some Chinese takeaway in my rocking penthouse, walking straight past my 20,000 bit, fully-equipped kitchen I use to make my breakfast smoothies (only, my breakfast smoothies) and sitting in my lounge. Two bites in and she has me on the table, tongue shoved so far down my throat she probably met the Szechuan sauce. She wasn’t half bad either, wicked silky coat and a hell of a boutique mane style. I could feel myself growing, quickly too. With a quick smirk, we leapt off the table and dived into my room, hitting my custom made circular king sized in a matter of seconds. She went right up to the bed head, making me chase after her. Putting her tail back, I started rubbing my length along her slit. If there was any wetness, doubtful, as mares need to be warmed up like a car engine first, it was still inside her. “Yeah…” She huffed, rubbing herself into my desperate cock. Flipping her around, I looked into her eyes.Smiling, she started sucking on my neck, rubbing her hooves along my body, stroking my blue stripe. “What a sexy DJ you are.” Moving down, she started sucking on my chest. Moving down, sending kisses along my stomach, getting gradually closer and closer to my now throbbing cock. I still grinded against her, pushing it up onto her chest, letting the tip tap her chin as she got closer. Finally, she put her mouth down and waited for my next grinding thrust upward, letting her tongue lightly push against it this time, sending shivers as I felt her warm tongue follow my penis down this time. My next thrust sent it straight into her mouth, filling her with my desperate cock, using her tongue to massage it as I pulled in and out of her with growing hunger. It felt so fucking good, I gasped, feeling her warm mouth suck harder and harder. Pushing me further on my way to my rise to orgasm. She pressed her lips firmly to form a sleeve, massaging it up and down as she worked with my rhythm. To meet her halfway, I got her in a sixty-nine. I kissed her slit, licking and pecking along its length, from clit to labia. I kissed inside with my tongue, tasting the slightly salty flavour of secretions. She wriggled her hips, inspiring me to keep going, but I had another idea. Drawing out her wetness, I got some on her clit. Now lubed, I let her have it, licking and sucking around the little sensitive nub, getting her squealing in no time. Suddenly, she stopped, pulling her mouth off my penis, out of mild surprise and desperation I pumped the air, not meeting that soft warm mouth. Instead, she moved her lips down my shaft, reaching my balls and giving them a small kiss before putting them in her mouth, one at a time, moving them around and suckling on them, making me gasp harder as she gave them a light tug. Swirling them around and pressing them against the roof of her mouth, she used her tongue to suck on my taint, removing my now glistening balls from her mouth and slowly sucking my taint. She sucked in as much of it as possible before pressing her lips together and moving it around in her mouth with her tongue, sending me into a frenzy. Pushing up and letting my taint slip through her lips she quickly went back up to my penis, thrusting it in and out of her mouth. Oh my god, she went all for it, hilting my entire length on every pump, she quickly sent me over the edge. I surged, crying out, emptying my balls into her mouth. As the first burst went into her mouth she lapped it up, letting the second explode into her mouth. Removing my dick from her mouth she let it dribble out onto my balls, giving my penis some final pumps, sending the last spurts over my lower stomach. But I wasn’t done with her. Her body quivered as I concentrated one last time on her clit. She gave a squeal, trembling like a plucked string. With one last lick, she came. I buried my face in her pussy to a chorus of pleased screams accented by her shaking hips. My mouth got so wet. Soon, she collapsed, panting, utterly spent. She moved up and gave me a quick kiss, getting off the bed and heading to my attached bathroom as soon as I had come down. “It’s… It’s next to the sink.” I called out, as I heard the faucet turn on. Huddling up into my bed I felt something well in my stomach. A familiar feeling, a feeling like something is about to end and there is nothing I can do about it. I hear the rustling of the bag of bits being removed from the place I left it. As soon as she made her way out of the bathroom I opened the bedroom door with my magic. “Unno, you can sleep here if you want… I have a spare bedroom and everything.” I replied quietly, feeling that dark void creep back into my chest, the tendrils of it clasping to me tightly. “I have a place to stay.” She replied, shutting the door of my bedroom, and my life, forever. Just like last week’s… Why did I say that? What did I want from her? What the fuck was her name? Why am I doing this? My job? What? Why? The darkness started engulfing me… I was alone… In a huge apartment… With nopony else, just me. Sorry, give me a second… this part is hard for me. I wanted to cry, I don’t know why… I shouldn’t have, who was there to listen? Who was there to help me? Well…. It was.. But no, I was stronger than that, I didn’t need anything. I didn’t need help, I didn’t need help, I did not need help. That’s what I said as I tried desperately to put myself into a lying down position. I felt it, every cold night coming back to me. I started to panic. I felt static. It crept closer and closer, something, something real, something fake, I couldn’t tell you. I needed to fight it off. I desperately reached into my bedside table, pulling out a pill bottle and throwing down two little white tablets. I rocked in my bed, my chest tightening as I waited for the dark to leave me. Eventually, I felt the pull getting weaker, the horrible feeling, the thoughts, whatever they are. The room is a room, the bed is a bed, and my head felt heavy. Slowly I let myself collapse into bed, my eyes closing and the dark being just a speck in the corner of my mind as my head hit the pillow. … “Why in Equestria are you still in bed!” is what I was greeted with in the morning. I made a sorry attempt at opening my eyes, immediately squeezing them as tight as I can and covering my head in the duvets as Sven flooded the room with disgustingly bright light. “Your album deadlines are getting very fucking close and I am still waiting to see official, fully completed songs on my desk. Plus you have my star violinist you need to prep for meeting in a couple of days.” “So what? We meet, I tell her how this thing is gonna go down, I stick my dick in her and let the media eat it for breakfast. What prep…” I groan, letting one eye slide slowly into the light, not letting too much at once. “It’s a him, Record. You stick your dick in that and you’ll be ruined. Just… let me brief you first, please. You don’t even know what gender they are, let alone their name.” Sven threw back my bedsheets, exposing my now freezing body and the stench of whoever I had over last night. “And dear Celestia, clean up these bed sheets, I think my sense of smell is permanently stale.” I could practically sense his nose wrinkle up as he opened the window, letting the freezing air in… asshole. “Okay, damn, I’m out of bed!” I angrily replied, ripping my sensitive eyes from the pillow. “You’re lucky you are the best, ‘cause I would have fired the ass hat that has to get me out of bed by now.” I stumbled into the bathroom, half hearing whatever reply Sven gave me, blasting the warm water over my body. It stung, not out of tiredness, just out of fear and paranoia. I don’t know, I always kinda got that coming down from… well, yeah. Just, give me a second. Well, I got out, dried myself off and took some breaths, like that would hold myself back, like it would evoke some motivation. It seemed to work, stepping out of my bathroom I could instantly tell what he meant. My room smelt like shit, but, in all fairness, I hadn’t really had the drive to do anything about it for probably weeks at that stage. ‘I’ll do it tonight if I feel better. Yeah.’ I blindly told myself, meeting Sven in the kitchen. “Alright Svenny, let’s get this over with, enlighten me on this… dude you’ve paired your star with,” I fell into the chair opposite his on the table, watching Sven push a coffee my way from his side of the table. “This dude,” He curled his lip, looking like he was about to visibly grimace over the idea of using such a normal word, “goes by Octave, full name Octavian Melody.” He slid a resume my way, the image of a stallion who looked more wound uptight than Sven frowning their straight-laced frown right back at me, didn’t look too bad really. Easy on the eyes, I could tell why he had picked this one anyway. “He is an Earth Pony from Canterlot,” Sven gave me a look that indicated for me to fill in the puzzle. “Oh, this is an interesting little selling story. Earth pony dealing with a bunch of bullying or whatever rises up from his horrible little community and ends up in the big league. You want me to milk this?” I asked, giving him back the picture and picking up the coffee. “Exactly, it’s our job to keep interest peaked on this guy. Sure he is just some sappy orchestral crony right now, but my team will find something for him, maybe pick up some interesting gossip on you two singing in between tour destinations or something. Just get used to him, cause he will be stuck with you for a while.” “Poor sucker.” I looked away, kind of sick of this briefing already. “Yeah well, showbiz. You know the deal.” “Yeah… yeah, I do.” I muttered, taking one last gulp from my coffee. Sven downed his drink and got up from his seat, sending an atrocious scraping noise bouncing around my still sensitive brain. “Now, please. For the love of Celestia, I need your ass over to the studio today. I don’t care when as long as you can put in six hours. We have a lot of work to do before we can get these duets sorted. Please.” He grabbed his satchel from the counter and made his way for the door. “Only for you Svenny.” I winked, his eyes rolled. The door shut and the empty coffee cups sat there. I sat there and sighed, relieved. Sitting there for a bit longer I decided to get my ass somewhat ready. ArrangementsMy bowstring at the ready, I gave a nod and begin slowly, my hoof tapping in the tempo. I began the starting note, taking in a deep breath and letting the melody set in. My colleague on the bass violin strummed his staccato beat beside me, quickly backing up my sub melody. It began on my lead, my hoof providing our starting tempo. Holding my cello tight, the notes bent and carried their strength through the lower melody. It felt amazing, breathtaking. But I couldn’t get carried away, not yet. I was risking my notes losing their smooth soft nature. The bright sun shone through the park, trickles of light catching my eye as the violinist next to me began his bright primary melody. It broke with vigour over the top of my soft melody, accompanying the silky undertone I had built. It really pushed through our lower support part, quickening the pace and actively catching the attention of the ponies walking nearby. His quick, vibrant work took a backseat as I began my solo. Allowing the bass and the violin to take a step behind me I pushed my notes through, filling the area with my cello’s smooth and slow melody as the violin followed his repetitive notes on my back. Another breath in and we were lined up again. Not missing a single beat, the park was filled with a tense moment of silence. Finally, the violin broke out again, piercing through the bass and I once more as the chorus filled the courtyard. Closing my eyes and tilting my head back, I felt the melody, our instruments working synchronously, raise the volume and engulf the passer-bys in the beautiful, slow symphony. The sound filled my chest, the three of us working our parts to blend and mesh together. Yet as quick as it began to take its full body, it was over, returning to a soft, quiet syncopation into the second verse. This time, it was the bass to begin his version of the pre-chorus, a far slower and deeper melodic version of the quick and vibrant violin’s own. My deep, slow notes built up his strength as the violin worked next to us, backing and building at the same time. Now ponies were gathering, circling us, entranced by our performance. I couldn’t help but smile at the gathering crowd, their chests filled with air as they clung to their breaths in anticipation for us to finish our piece. Not a sound could be heard throughout the entire park as we held for that brief moment. Then it struck again, the deep, rich violin singing its high pitched melody with our backing support at strength. Quickly diving in between the key melodic points in expertly timed syncopation, his notes plunged and soared, like a pegasus in the middle of flight. The warm rays of the sun came plunging down upon us through the tree we stood under, its beautiful autumn leaves fluttering around us as ponies swayed with our melody. The soft wind carried our chorus throughout the bright morning park as more ponies gathered to listen to the violin’s final high note. The bass and I slowly brought on a soothing decrescendo, the pegasus landing and our instruments finally laying to rest. Smiling as brightly as the song, the ponies around us clapped and cheered, the regulars impressed as ever as they stood together in the front, already knowing when we would be in the park. As the warmth from the day filled my chest, we bowed and shook hooves, our hat in the centre of the circle filling with loose bits. Laughter and happy chatter filled our area of the park as everyone talked excitedly of our music. When ponies began thinning out and we were left with our now filled instrument cases, we picked up and made our way to our favourite coffee shop next to the park, laughing and chattering the whole way. “That was one of our best sets yet! Have we even had a crowd that big there before? We are gonna have to do something truly special to finish off,” Bass Clef, the double bass player smiled as he sipped his coffee. For over a year, two other members of the Canterlot Symphony, Bass Clef and Sweet Melody, and I had been going to the park and performing in the morning once a week. It always filled me with joy to see ponies so happy to hear us. It was damn near therapeutic. “What do you mean?” I asked, sipping my coffee and raising an eyebrow. Both of them looked at me as if it was totally obvious. Their expressions turned slightly solemn to my amazement. “Octavian, you are moving up. How many orchestral players these days make it any further than the symphony?” This time it was Sweet Melody, giving me a sad smile. My confusion only deepened. “Yeah? Thanks, but I don’t know what on earth you mean by ‘finish off.’ Like the song?” The two were being really cryptic, It was kind of frustrating. “No. Octi, dude. We just don’t know what your plans are. You’re working with DJ freaking Pon-3. That’s working closely with him, tours, promotions. How many of these do you think we have left?” Sweet Melody put her hoof on mine, smiling at me. “We’re happy for you Octi, but we also know that you are gonna want to move on.” If being singled out could get any worse, it would have. I near felt hurt that my friends thought I would leave them that suddenly. “Guys… really?” I got up and put a hoof around each of their shoulders, bringing them close. “You can’t get rid me that easily. And no matter where I go or how busy I get, there will be always time for you and… this.” I gestured around the coffee shop. Ever since we began our now consistent visits there following our unofficial performances, the ponies that regularly saw us came in too, chattering and laughing about the place. Today was no exception: ponies from nearby gathered here to be around us. “We do something here that no amount of fame could replicate, and best of all? I get to do it with you two.” I smiled, turning the gesture into a hug. “Okay okay! I’m gonna puke, you sappy piece of shit,” Bass Clef laughed, pulling out from the hug. “At least with this fame-to-be you can finally find a coltfriend, then you can stop projecting all that gross love onto me.” “Funny, aren’t ya?” I smirked, sitting back down in my spot and wrapping my hooves around my coffee again. “I’m not gonna lie though Octi, we are gonna fucking miss you in the symphony.” He looked down into his coffee, pensiveness written on his face. “Sweets and I. Not to mention your cellists.” “Awww chin up, both of you. The cellists will be fine, they might even be a bit more coordinated now. We will still see each other heaps, even if it isn’t at work. Now will you two hurry up and go to whatever funeral you’re missing so you can stop acting like mopey horses?” I smiled, downing my coffee and quickly regretting it as the hot liquid burnt my throat. “Alright, let’s divide up these bits, give our tip and be out. Besides, we should really work on next week’s set,” I winked. “So… you nervous about meeting the guy? DJ Pon-3, I mean,” Sweet Melody asked, throwing the left bow card onto the table, much to my extreme annoyance, and winning the hand. With Bass Clef gone and my apartment with some lifestyle radio channel, Mel and I decided to get the cards out and talk. “I mean… I know I shouldn’t be, but I have no idea what the guy is like off-stage. I’ve heard celebrities are real assholes when the public isn’t around.” She threw down the queen of hearts, forcing me to play my king. Got her that time but, I was two hands down, so the best I could do is get even. “Oh come on Octi, that’s a bit pessimistic of you. You’ll be fine! Just act like you do when you’re around us. Show him what you’re made of.” Showing me a sly smirk, Sweet slapped down the trump card, the jack of diamonds, slaughtering my final card. “And how bad at cards you are!” She really got her jollies off on that one, scoring her final points. “Sweet Celestia, why do I play these games with you?” Hanging my head, I got up from the couch, angrily grabbing the long-since forgotten tea cups on the counter. “Hey! No avoiding the subject,” I heard from the lounge room. I headed back into the living room and set them round the place for the rest of the ponies that were gonna arrive soon. “Alright, I’ll go into this with a bit more optimism, but I am not expecting being besties for life or anything. That is for sure.” I slumped back into my seat. Picking up the hand that Melody had set up for me, I became a little more optimistic about this round. “Good to hear, and… well, Octi, just…” She sighed, resting her cards in her lap. “What is it? Sweets? You alright?” I asked, tilting my head. “Yeah yeah, just… don’t forget us. We are still going to be friends and I will actually kill you if you get too big for your boots. In all seriousness though, we are friends forever, and this isn’t going to change that.” She rested her head against her hoof and looked up at me expectantly. “Oh Celestia, Sweets. Honestly, with all the sincerity I can give, I’m not like that. I’m a tough cookie,” I lightly punched her arm, eliciting a small smile to break out over her face. “You don’t have to worry about me for a second, you’re stuck with me forever unfortunately. Whether you like it or not.” Her smile got a little bigger and she sat up straight again, clearing her throat. “Good to hear. Now, no more sappy shit because I gotta quickly beat you before everypony else gets here.” “Sven, I am seriously having second thoughts on this stupid fucking idea.” I wasn’t having any of this shit. This was the third song that Sven wanted me to mix with this guy. It started off as a single, then Sven begged me to do a second track, and now he wanted to push it to three after I’d just gotten the fifth song on the album produced. This whole thing was quickly getting out of hoof and whoever this stupid pretentious orchestra nerd was, he was taking my entire album from me. “You wanted to drop that dance track anyway!” Sven was puffing and panting, desperately trying to keep up with me as I stormed around the studio hallway. I just wanted to get to my office to be able to let my anger fester, yet that stupid agent of mine persisted. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want it replaced by another sappy orchestral ballad,” I yelled behind myself, trying desperately to make my hooves go faster without full blown running. I threw my purple-tinted glasses from my head onto my eyes and made an attempt for the exit. “Do you not understand what we are trying to do here?” Sven stopped, obviously worn out. The poor guy. I was an asshole, I’ll admit it, but something clicked inside me. I honestly couldn’t tell what it was, but I realised how heated and childish I was being. Sure, I was a celebrity, but did I really need to act like one? I genuinely hadn’t seen my blind stupidity until then, and I have no idea why either. But I stood there, went back to Sven and picked him up off the floor. We kept walking down the studio hallway, the exit left behind. “Okay Sven. I’m sorry, what are we doing here then?” I asked, trying to give my speech a bit of sincerity. He looked at me almost as if I wasn’t myself. In all honesty I probably wasn’t, right then and there. “Exposure. Think about it, Canterlot is a tough crowd, a bunch of ponies with sticks in all the wrong places. Your music is, let’s be real here, below them.” He finished that sentence with a snort and a grimace. “So, we are giving them something they love and splicing it in with you.” I was confused to say the least, because there was a lot more to it than just that. “Well okay, that’s good and all.” I slowed down and stood in the hallway, facing him. “But once this cute collaboration is all over, then what? It’s not like they will stay for long, I go back to my usual music and their snobby snouts turn the other direction again.” Sven turned away from me, a smile forming on his face. Now, it was his turn to start walking away from me. “That’s the thing, Record. After this album, you aren’t going back, not in the way you think anyway.” My mouth opened, I felt a pit in my stomach. The way he said that didn’t make me feel very easy. “And what do you mean by that, Gallop?” I chased after him, keeping pace with what looked like a very rejuvenated stallion. “No more wildcard DJ-Pon3. We are mellowing you out, your appearance in the public and what the tabloids talk about. You’ve been a drug addicted, high-functioning alcoholic. diva in the public eye for long enough. Ponies are losing interest in it all. You’re gonna settle down, find a mare or something. We are gonna bring out Record Scratch, Two. Point. O.” Sven smirked, taking the lead into my office. I stood in the hallway, dazed. Contemplating what that meant for me. I’d been in the game a long time, and whilst Sven tended to keep things simple for me, I could definitely pick up where he was going with me. I just didn’t know if I could change like that. It sounded like he could turn around and make everything change. My brain was already thinking about that dark lonely gap with nothing in it, and all I wanted to do was fill it. I didn’t care with what. Was Sven going get me a token marefriend? I damn well hoped not. I don’t think I could handle that. “Gonna stand there like a stunned lizard all day?” Shit. How long had I been standing there? I must have looked like I didn’t know how to take the news. I needed to act nonchalant about it, like it was no big deal. Just part of the job… I shook my head. “Sorry Svenny, zoned out for a minute there, all good.” Trotting on into his office he gave me a look. I knew it well, he was scanning me, my emotions, he was freakishly good at it. He stood there for a minute, next to his desk, I swear I could almost feel him probing into my mind. “I shouldn’t have told you as much as I did, so don’t get too excited. We should probably focus on this aspirin-inducing promotion first,” he sat down, rubbing his head as he did so. I took one on the other side, remaining as visually stoic as possible. I craved a solid drink over an aspirin, that was for sure. I sat there, nodding my head and thinking about what I wanted to say next. “So when do I get the privilege of meeting Mister Virtuoso?” I took the glasses back from my eyes, and as I put my legs up onto his desk, he used his magic to quickly slip a small mat he had ready for my hooves on his clean desk. Leaning forward, Sven tilted his head, quite well aware that what he was about to say, I wouldn’t like. “Well, before you two even start recording together, we need to get some promotional stuff out the way, we obviously aren’t announcing anything too big just yet, just some photos of you too together. We will get ponies speculating. But uhhh…” I leaned forward, “What is it, Sven?” my stern tone and mild glare might have thrown anyone but him off. “Well that’s the thing. We need to do some early promo stuff here. His official paperwork will be done by tomorrow so it’s looking like it will be... the day after tomorrow.” He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, ready for the outburst. I didn’t disappoint often when it came to my outbursts. “God fucking dammit, Sven! Way to give me a heads up!” I shouted, removing my hooves from the table. “Record! We need to get this through the pipeline fast! We need you two working together and doing this thing you may not of heard of. It’s called cooperating, and it needs to be done as soon as possible to meet the deadlines. The recording won’t be much long after. We will be planning the songs in literally four days! What did you expect?” I sighed, bowing my head and rubbing my face with my hooves. “Fine, but I’m not touching this Celestia-damned building until I need to do this stupid promo photoshoot.” I threw the glasses back on my head, lifted myself from the seat and marched to the door. “Eight A.M! Eight A.M, Record!” I heard behind me as a slammed the door shut and felt the vibrations through my body. I turned towards the door and felt for my bits. I could really fucking do with a drink right now, I thought to myself as I huffed my way to the exit. Author's Note Another chapter not far behind! This hasn't been the most successful fics I've ever written, but that's alright! because I am freaking loving writing it. Now I wanna make this a little interesting my amazing readers. I planted a cute little card game in the fic and the gal or guy to guess this fantastical card game based on how they play gets a very special prize. Post your guess in the comments and the first to get it gets a special something as thanks for reading, it really does mean a lot to me! -Milo MelodyGetting absolutely maggoted. That is what I solely intended to do to myself after throwing myself from those glass exit doors to the studio. There was no remorse, no second thought, it was almost a natural urge. It was all the same. Being sober just… sucked. Except the other night I was at my apartment and there were drugs and nothing but myself to keep me company. Except this time I had trashy bar music, a barpony and other ponies to take the place of the drugs, it really wasn’t much better. My signature sunglass never came off like at home though. It worked I guess. It stayed that way and I had no plan to change it. Regardless, the bar was where I was and the bar was where I intended to stay until I could barely walk home. I hoped that I might do something extremely stupid in view of everyone to remain relevant for another month or so. Sven wouldn’t be impressed, but he secretly would at the same time. Me playing the celebrity game. It was all very much what they say and what they mean are two different things. Like… okay, let me put it this way; a manager will never ever in all of Celestia’s suns say to go strip naked and grind on some chick, too much liability. But they want you to do it, it’s more complex but you get the idea... “Hey you, what’cha drinking sugar?” Some loud mare bleated behind me. Putting my head in my hooves briefly, I turned around, appearing nose to nose with a very confident looking female. Her eyes gleamed the second she saw me, the look of someone who recognised a celebrity when she saw someone. “Well well well...,” She beamed, slithering in beside me, “unless these drinks have befuddled my vision, and my eyes do in fact deceive me, I’m looking at the legendary DJ Pon-3. Not only that, but he is in a dinky old bar all alone looking like he was dragged out a gutter rather than his private yacht.” For such a bold statement, she had a very soft voice. Professional, like she shouldn’t be here as much as I probably should. I looked at her for another two seconds then swiveled myself back around, “Aren’t you a charmer. Sorry love, but I’ve signed out of the autograph panel. Come back with some manners maybe. But for now, I’ll stick to being alone in this dinky old bar,” I turned back to the bar and took down the rest of my Johnny Trotter Blue on ice. I’m not denying I was rich, I didn’t care about anypony around me and I didn’t give a fuck what I spent it on, as arrogant as that was of me. Yet, without hesitation she sat next to me, the barstool unfortunately being empty. “Bartender! Two imperials of dry,” The playfulness gone from her voice, she sobered up quickly putting on a solemn face where the drunken flirtiness once was, she slapped some bits onto the bar and looked down at countertop. I raised an eyebrow and looked over to her. “We got off on the wrong foot, let me get you a drink and we can chat.” She stuck her hooves out at my grimace. “I’d rather have a conversation with old mate at the back,” I pointed my hoof behind me, sending her gaze over to old grungy pony in the back sleeping next to an empty pint glass, froth plastered all over the inside of the glass. He hadn’t moved an inch since I came in. “Yeah well, I haven’t seen you in ages and now you’re too big for me aren’t you,” A quiet pause between us. Not gonna lie, it was awkward. Like I was supposed to know her. The pints of dry slipped between us, “You… don’t know who I am do you?” I took another look at her. Unicorn, white coat, blue eyes, deep blue mane styled way to appropriately for a bar like this, I had no clue in tartarus. What I found more surprising is the fact that she even expected somepony like me to remember every face I came across. “Sorry… I meet a lot of ponies,” I replied, resting my head in my hooves on the bar and staring into the pint glass, the golden liquid inside making my stomach churn after drinking a twenty dollar glass of aged whiskey. Out of politeness I drank it. I don’t hate the taste of beer, it just wasn’t exactly strong enough for my tastes. She sighed and grabbed the beer, taking a gulp from the top and getting foam on her lip. “Yeah, I can imagine. Okay, fair, stupid question. Well, the name is Peace Lily, and in case you’re wondering or it might jog your memory or something, we were in band together at school. We sat next to each other. I played the bass violin, right next to you, the piano player, Record Scratch.” She put a hoof on my shoulder. “It’s uhh, been a while.” I sat there silent for a moment, eventually I sat up a bit straighter and took another swig at the glass she bought me. “We would always look at each other with gross faces whenever that kid who played saxophone wiped his spit-covered reed on his fur.” I looked over to her, doing something I haven’t done in a long time. I gave her a smile, just a small one, a weak one. But I really did remember her, and I did miss her, even if only bits and pieces came up. We hung out after school quite a few times. In fact, I think we were really close in the day. That obviously changed, and… well I felt bad for that. “So… what are you doing anyway? Life-wise and stuff.” She took another gulp of beer, a large one, if she was here to pick up stallions, she wasn’t exactly making a good name for herself. This wasn’t social drinking, it was sad drinking, I could practically smell it on her. “I got my cutie mark and became a counselor for ponies who have lost close ones, helping them get over the grief.” “That would be a niche market, not too much competition, plenty of work, good rates.” I replied, putting my glass back down. “So, a professional psych mare with a decent income comes into a bar built for the sad and lonely.” “I could say the same the same thing to you,” she challenged, narrowing her eyes at me. “Yeah, well…” I took another gulp of my drink, it wasn’t doing much for me but I thought I might as well just finish the damn thing. “Being a celebrity, surrounded by ponies all the time, it’s is pretty fucking lonely. It sounds cliche but… well cliches exist for a reason.” She sat there, looking down at the bar for a moment, “Oh.” I sat up quickly putting my hooves out, “Sorry, sorry for the swearing.” Quickly as lightning she looked shocked, sitting herself up straight, “No! No, it’s-.” “I uhh, didn’t know if-” I stammered. “it’s fine! Don’t worry-.” “If I say?” “No it’s fine, this world is already too…” “Censored?” I asked. “Yeah…” Probably the longest pause in my entire life had encompassed the moment, so long in fact that we both managed to finish our pints and get a refill, this time on me. I finally broke the killer silence after another sip from my next drink,.“So you never told me why you were here.” “Oh. Uhh, well, same reason you’re here I guess. I deal with ponies everyday talking about how much they loved their dead loved ones, meanwhile all I want is to have nothing to do with mine,” She finished, wobbling in her seat a little. “Like you said, you can be surrounded with every pony in Equestria, doesn’t mean that you’re happy.” “Cheers to that.” A clink of two pint glasses and a large gulp of beer, I was starting to feel the alcohol. Yet as soon as that golden liquid stopped moving through my lips, I felt something. It was in the pit of my stomach, something that told me I couldn’t be here. I needed to take a walk, or go home. I just needed to get out of the bar, I don’t know why, I don’t know what, it just… hit me. “I’m sorry Lily, I need to uhh… go.” She looked up at me stumbling out of my seat, confusion and shock on her face, “What?” Half of me wanted to stay. That side begged me to stay, to keep talking. But another wanted nothing to do with the bar anymore. It wanted nothing to do with Lilly. I don’t know what it was, I really don’t. I just… hit me “I’m sorry, I realised I can’t be here.” She got up also, putting her hoof on my shoulder. “W-wait! Uhh... well if you have to go,” She got out a pen and grabbed the back of her drinks receipt, scrawling her address onto it. “Here, just in case you wanna… unno. Reconnect. It’s…It’s good to see you and I really did miss you when we stopped talking, just… keep that, you never know.” I took it, gave her a smile and a nod, We both went into a little hug and I began walking to the exit of the bar, a sinking feeling hitting the pit of my stomach again. You’re so broken you can’t even take chances when they punch you in the face drummed through my head the second I exited the bar. “It. It was good to see you Lily.” I gave her a smile and made my way out the bar and into the cold night. I’m not exaggerating when I said it was cold either. Like, wow, I don’t know if it was the alcohol or whatever but I could really feel it that night. The wind bit, the ice went up my hooves, snow falling, it was killing me. Yet, this was Canterlot, it wasn’t overly late in all fairness but there were ponies everywhere dressed in a whole lot more than what I was. The city known for its height in fashion certainly didn’t disappoint. Coachponies waited for the important, the unimportant and every pony in between. This was inner city on a Wednesday night, when ponies saw the opera, or the art expeditions, all of the events I had no interest in even spitting in the general direction of. But walking past the Royal Canterlot Opera House, I caught the sign, it’s neon letters spelling out the spectacle all of the high life deemed an absolute requirement to attend. RCOH Presents: A Stroll Through Troughscanny feat. The Canterlot Symphony Orchestra It wasn’t so much the fact that some airy fairy-opera was going on, any other time I would have just strolled past it and not given a flying fuck that the ostentatious far-richer-than-me and had something to spend their money on. It was the fact that my new side-gig was playing his final show and I wanted to know what in Equestria Sven was thinking putting me with some string plucking orchestra chrony, and how in Equestria I was going to do this. I could faintly hear the muffled singing of some deep male Istallion singing words in his language. It sounded like it was in full swing of some upbeat Rivera clarinet/accordion crap. Nothing interesting at all to summarise. Walking up to the booth I looked at the attendant. “Hey, how much money do I have to pay you to get a seat in there?” I asked admittedly a little bit rough like. It must have looked comical, some shaggy tipsy homeless looking stallion asking to get in halfway through a highly appraised opera show. “You… uhm, you do realise the show is nearly over, right? They have like one more song to play,” he asked raising an eyebrow. “I don’t care, I just need to have a look at something, how much?” I asked, leaning on the counter a bit more. “Well uhh, the tickets were one fifty, but I guess you can sit in one of the unsold booths for twenty bits?” The attendant looked around for an obvious lack of supervisor, and with a nod of approval, I threw two fresh ten-bit coins on the counter, the guy gave me a smile and a nod of his own, popping the bits in his pocket. “Just down the hall, up the set of stairs on the right, and two curtains down.” I gave him an approving nod and made my way inside, instantly feeling relief from that freezing weather outside. In fact it was really warm in here, the entrance being enclosed really well. Of course it was lined with a fine lacing of red… everywhere. There was no shortage of that velvety redness the room contained I’d never actually been in a place like this. Out on the streets there was absolutely no care taken in my appearance or my demeanour, but being inside. It felt… different, like there was something to be had, or to be lost in here. I felt out of my depth, out my comfort zone. It was weird. I’d never really necessarily had a comfort zone, but being in this hall, this grand hall decorated for the pretentious and upper-class, I felt like I owed it something. I know that sounds ridiculous, but that’s really how I felt walking up the giant velvety red steps towards the second floor. Well, I started to cross the red curtain separating the second floor hallway to the booth that the ticket stallion told me was free. “-honoured for his presence in our performances tonight, and I hope you all have enjoyed our show.” A round of hoof stomping filled the theatre, it was… enormous. Truly, I’ve seen multi-million dollar stages, I’ve performed on multi-million dollar stages that are smaller than the Royal Canterlot Opera House. I still go there. Everytime there is a performance there that I watch I see it and it takes me back to that night. Near every seat in the audience was filled at the bottom, the hoof stomps where powerful, but not overpowering, it’s fascinating unno? The way they build those things so that the sound is perfect in every corner, filled or empty. You get lost in it, you forget yourself. You realise how small you are but it doesn’t scare you, you just forget it. You get lost in where you are and what you’re doing. Multi-million dollar stages are multi-million dollar stages and it’s no small feat to perform on them, but that theatre, it’s priceless. And the experience of being on that stage right there, I could only imagine is more priceless than watching. It’s… humbling. “But for now, we must begin to wrap up, no more singers are due but the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra would like to leave you all with a parting performance to not only you, but to our very own beloved leader of the string section. Please put your hooves on the floor for Octavian Melody and the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra!” Another round of stomping filled the auditorium, but this time it quickly died down as the orchestra started their alleged final piece of the night. The starting note, eh, I wasn’t a fan to begin with. I sat back in my chair, hooves crossed and sceptical. Some airy fairy major key filled the air from the string section. I scanned for him, the guy I had seen in the photos, the guy I was thrown together with. Octavian Melody. The initial note was quickly overshone by the beginning melody. I totally recognised the song, I had no clue what it’s actual name was, but it was familiar, but also new. I think it usually had a singer but I don’t know. It felt warm, uplifting almost, but also bittersweet. I guess it was fitting. Not saying goodbye, but more like, see you later. Just as I thought the chorus was going to build, it stopped. A pause, a breath, a silence. Then a quiet crescendo, a beautiful climb, up and down and finally at its peak, it sank again, but only briefly holding its shape. The brass and strings followed with their own echo and back down it went. A soft verse and echo followed. It was warm and uplifting, preparing us for the new chorus. And wow, here it came. The brass backing up the woodwinds as an iconic melody played out. It was beautiful, it was sad, it didn’t feel much like an ending. It felt like a beginning. But once again it cut off, this time the climb and echo building and filling the room with this light feeling of both grace and paramountcy. It was building what was next to come, you could feel it in your chest. I closed my eyes and it took me back, younger me, at home, with my childhood friends watching the sunset over canterlot. It came crashing over me, the woodwind, the strings, wow the strings. They brought on a full crescendo of the chorus, the brass built behind the back and used their sound to carry it all forward. Now all you could hear in the entire auditorium was this amazing music, I could barely see any individual on the stage but I could hear all of the different elements at once, filling my ears and my chest. It made me feel things greater than myself, I lost where I was and then the brass took over the chorus. The power and elegance, with the woodwinds backing them up, the violins playing alongside them. It felt… majestic, prideful, happy, amazing. Time to Say Goodbye… I think that’s what the song was. But it ended on this beautiful crescendo, that filled me with warmth. I never saw him. I was too far away, but knowing he was leading something like that, I didn’t know how to feel. I was conflicted between who I was supposed to be and who I wanted to be when he met me. I was pretty damn emotional after it all. I kind of saw why those posh people went to those things. It’s not about lyrics and not about finding yourself in some angry electro music, but the opposite. I was obsessed with losing myself. I ran out from the curtain before anypony left, their hoofbeats and applause still littered the theatre as the orchestra did their final bows. I ran off. I had tears in my eyes, because it was all over and I had returned to who I was. I was me, this pathetic, self-loathing, half assed celebrity who didn’t know what the fuck he wanted in life. But I had experienced something. I had lost myself without drugs or alcohol or sex. For a long time I forgot about the hole in me that constantly needed filling. So I went off, I went home, to my drab, dreary, sad, lonely apartment to do something I hadn’t done in a very long time. It was time to find myself, to rediscover myself a way I hadn’t done in years. By entirely losing myself.
MeetingsHave you ever gone for something you thought would be so stupid and unattainable, and it ending up changing your life forever? A collab deal with someone as famous as DJ-Pon3 was just that, but I wouldn’t give up. The day I got the letter from my manager, I nearly completely ruined the contract with my shaky hoofwriting. We wanted to arrange the collab to be an orchestral backing to his new electronic sound. And so with a week of persuading and an iron determination, I ended up sitting nervously in Svengallop’s office, his decor not going past a rug and a trophy rack. A square office for a square pony. The manager himself quickly marched into his office, slamming the door shut with his back hoof and, walking right over to the other side of his desk in his plain dark office chair, he looked over to me on the other side of his desk, scanning me up and down he lifted up some papers and began to read the top. “Octavian Melody, cellist.” He started in his upper-crust Canterlot accent, scanning along the contract paper sitting on his side of the desk.“You are here to collaborate with my client Record Scratch, yes?” I felt my chest tighten, this was really happening. I was sitting in a meeting with Record Scratch’s manager arranging a collaboration on his new album. “Correct Mr. Gallop, did you get the demo I sent you?” I asked, shuffling my hooves under the chair, trying to give myself something to spend all of the excess nervous pumping through my body on. Sven looked at me for a few seconds, looking like a tiger ready to pounce and crush my dreams in a single sentence. Yet, he got up from his chair and walked over to a small buffet he had against the wall, a record player sitting on the bench next to a small bar he had for ponies obviously more important than some wannabe looking for a collab with one of his star clients. “This little track, correct?” He flicked a small switch on the player, my demo already being in the player. I noticed a small bin next to the buffet, gulping as I saw a pile of broken up records overflowing from it. Returning to his chair and leaning back, he threw his rear hooves onto his side of the desk. “I am not going to lie, you are very talented… but don’t get complacent; so were they,” he added, gesturing to the bin. He quickly dropped his hooves from the table, leaning forward and looking right into my eyes. “Wanna know why they ended up in the bin? Every single one of those so called ‘potential artists’ wanting to work with my artists?” He asked, getting right into my face. “Umm, no?” I asked, using every last bit of courage not to shrink away from his obvious challenge. “One word, kid: personality. You want your name to shine? You gotta shine with it, music is cute and all, but these days there are hundreds of ponies that can play like they know what they are doing. But talent doesn’t sell, so show me what makes you different from the fifty members of the orchestra that came in today to be able to collab with my star and send their name into the stars.” I leaned forward, putting my hooves onto his desk and leaning forward. “Personality huh?” He leaned forward as well, getting very close to my face and narrowing his eyes as my track still softly played in the background. “Show me what you got.” He leaned back, smirking as he waited for me to make my response. I leaned back as well, taking the prompt. “Well if you are expecting me to tell you how much I just love music and how I am so dedicated to this art. How I took ballet from a young age and made Mummy and Daddy buy me all the things I needed to be the best I can be, for starters you can fuck off.” Svengallop went to open his mouth and interject, but I quickly shot him a look before he could answer. “Don’t! You dare interrupt me while I tell you shit you don’t care about! I glared, making his face turn quickly to shock, followed by a look of pleasant surprise. “Yeah, I grew up in some low class family on the cusp of Canterlot. Earth Pony racism and all that jazz, wanted to prove my dickhead parents that I didn’t need a horn or anything special.” I decided to tone it down from here, seeing the interest on his face as I kept going. “I’m quirky, different. I’m not like other ponies… I… I want to help other ponies, but it’s complex. I don’t feel like I need fame or adoration to do that. “I am tame and I listen and I do what I need to do to get things done. No less. I don’t delve too hard into the realm of alcohol and I’m still a virgin… being a string player does that. But yeah… I got dirt, baggage whatever you wanna call it. I worked damn hard to be where I am am and if you think for one second that you, or some other bureaucratic are gonna fuck with my pathway that I bled to carve, you better watch out. And if think that I will ever give up, you’re dead wrong, Gallop.” Svengallop took a second. He looked me up then down, curiosity all over his face, stroking his chin carefully from the other side of the desk. Something took over me, I don’t know what it was. Nerves? Adrenaline? I couldn’t tell you. I got up from my seat and plucked the record from the player, stopping the demo in its tracks and putting it in it’s slip. “Let me do you a favour, Gallop.” I snapped it in half and threw it in front of him. He looked down at the folded slip, the cracked record inside. “Why?” he asked, picking it up slowly. “It’s about personality, isn’t it? You don’t need that stupid thing, you’ve heard what you need to hear.” I plucked the record out of his hooves and threw it into the bin, walking to the door. “I’ll be checking my mailbox.” I opened the door, looking back at the stunned stallion. “See ya later Sven, nice chat.” I shut the door to his office, crumpling to the floor and shaking uncontrollably as I crawled my way down the empty hallway. I sat there on my couch in my little apartment for I don’t know how long… I can tell you I wasn’t able to do much. I vaguely remember reaching for some peppermint tea, then after I found it, I ended up on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket listening to some music and sipping it. If someone had dared to show up, I think they may have actually been scared for my health. But… I just didn’t know what to do, everything was on autopilot. The last thing I expected was a knock on the door. Yet through my shaky haze of complete and total system shutdown, I barely managed to hear the frantic knocking threatening to bust my door down. Lazily getting up and trudging over to the door, I swung it open, my manager looking up in horror at greeting my current half-self. I must have looked shocking because he actually took steps backward at the sight of me. “What the fuck have you done to yourself?” “Nice to see you too, String Puller…” I grumbled, turning around and walking back inside. We both headed to the kitchen, where I threw on the kettle and found the lemon peppermint teabags I have specifically for our little meetings. “Now, please. Just get it out the way, Svengallop wants somepony else, I didn’t get the gig. I don’t give a shit, I already figured that, just give me plan B or whatever.” String Puller gave me a very professional look and shook her head, leaning against the counter, “There is no plan B this time, Octavian…” I looked up in fear, not believing what had come out of her mouth. If I was shaky before, I was a wreck this time. “Wh-what do you mean… You’re giving up? Wha…. there has gotta be something! For real? What the fu-” “Octavian!” She shouted over my panic attack, bringing me back to earth slightly. I didn’t even realise my iron grip on the countertop and hooves looking like they were about to give way. “Firstly, sit down, because I am actually scared for your mental health right now. Sit down and I’ll get you some water.” She has always been really to-the-point, but that’s what I like about her. She just has this no bullshit approach to how she handles her clients that really reassures me. She tells it like it is, I appreciate that. I stumbled my way to the couch and waited for her, shaking like a foal on caffeine. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally came back from the kitchen and put the glass of water on the coffee table. “Now, will you let me finish?” She folded her hooves and sat on the lounge chair, her proper pose seeming more appropriate for a corporate meeting than my cheap apartment. I nodded my head rapidly, clutching the water and trying my best not to spill it as I downed the drink in one go. “There is no plan B because you don’t need one… Svengallop contacted me.” I hate it when she pauses for dramatic effect… I swear she does it just to piss me off. At least she isn’t a square all the time though. “You’re in.” Author's Note This is... a pilot. Small, experimental and ready for criticism! I am super keen to start this, it is like nothing I have ever written before and kind of signifies a new way or writing for me. I am kind of over writing sappy puppy love stories (for the time being, not that there is anything wrong with writing a bit of fluff). I am keen to get into some nitty gritty stuff with a lot more conflict and a lot more gay fun stuff! I hope you can stick around. -Milo
AloneAuthor's Note Warning This chapter will contain MxF intimacy (ironic right?) Alone Now don’t get me wrong, I took this chick out to dinner first. Well… is takeaway considered a subcategory of taken out? I bought her dinner, which is the main thing, well, not that the dinner was on her mind when we started making out on the kitchen table. I’d take a few steps back, but there aren’t any steps to go back from. One minute we’re eating some Chinese takeaway in my rocking penthouse, walking straight past my 20,000 bit, fully-equipped kitchen I use to make my breakfast smoothies (only, my breakfast smoothies) and sitting in my lounge. Two bites in and she has me on the table, tongue shoved so far down my throat she probably met the Szechuan sauce. She wasn’t half bad either, wicked silky coat and a hell of a boutique mane style. I could feel myself growing, quickly too. With a quick smirk, we leapt off the table and dived into my room, hitting my custom made circular king sized in a matter of seconds. She went right up to the bed head, making me chase after her. Putting her tail back, I started rubbing my length along her slit. If there was any wetness, doubtful, as mares need to be warmed up like a car engine first, it was still inside her. “Yeah…” She huffed, rubbing herself into my desperate cock. Flipping her around, I looked into her eyes.Smiling, she started sucking on my neck, rubbing her hooves along my body, stroking my blue stripe. “What a sexy DJ you are.” Moving down, she started sucking on my chest. Moving down, sending kisses along my stomach, getting gradually closer and closer to my now throbbing cock. I still grinded against her, pushing it up onto her chest, letting the tip tap her chin as she got closer. Finally, she put her mouth down and waited for my next grinding thrust upward, letting her tongue lightly push against it this time, sending shivers as I felt her warm tongue follow my penis down this time. My next thrust sent it straight into her mouth, filling her with my desperate cock, using her tongue to massage it as I pulled in and out of her with growing hunger. It felt so fucking good, I gasped, feeling her warm mouth suck harder and harder. Pushing me further on my way to my rise to orgasm. She pressed her lips firmly to form a sleeve, massaging it up and down as she worked with my rhythm. To meet her halfway, I got her in a sixty-nine. I kissed her slit, licking and pecking along its length, from clit to labia. I kissed inside with my tongue, tasting the slightly salty flavour of secretions. She wriggled her hips, inspiring me to keep going, but I had another idea. Drawing out her wetness, I got some on her clit. Now lubed, I let her have it, licking and sucking around the little sensitive nub, getting her squealing in no time. Suddenly, she stopped, pulling her mouth off my penis, out of mild surprise and desperation I pumped the air, not meeting that soft warm mouth. Instead, she moved her lips down my shaft, reaching my balls and giving them a small kiss before putting them in her mouth, one at a time, moving them around and suckling on them, making me gasp harder as she gave them a light tug. Swirling them around and pressing them against the roof of her mouth, she used her tongue to suck on my taint, removing my now glistening balls from her mouth and slowly sucking my taint. She sucked in as much of it as possible before pressing her lips together and moving it around in her mouth with her tongue, sending me into a frenzy. Pushing up and letting my taint slip through her lips she quickly went back up to my penis, thrusting it in and out of her mouth. Oh my god, she went all for it, hilting my entire length on every pump, she quickly sent me over the edge. I surged, crying out, emptying my balls into her mouth. As the first burst went into her mouth she lapped it up, letting the second explode into her mouth. Removing my dick from her mouth she let it dribble out onto my balls, giving my penis some final pumps, sending the last spurts over my lower stomach. But I wasn’t done with her. Her body quivered as I concentrated one last time on her clit. She gave a squeal, trembling like a plucked string. With one last lick, she came. I buried my face in her pussy to a chorus of pleased screams accented by her shaking hips. My mouth got so wet. Soon, she collapsed, panting, utterly spent. She moved up and gave me a quick kiss, getting off the bed and heading to my attached bathroom as soon as I had come down. “It’s… It’s next to the sink.” I called out, as I heard the faucet turn on. Huddling up into my bed I felt something well in my stomach. A familiar feeling, a feeling like something is about to end and there is nothing I can do about it. I hear the rustling of the bag of bits being removed from the place I left it. As soon as she made her way out of the bathroom I opened the bedroom door with my magic. “Unno, you can sleep here if you want… I have a spare bedroom and everything.” I replied quietly, feeling that dark void creep back into my chest, the tendrils of it clasping to me tightly. “I have a place to stay.” She replied, shutting the door of my bedroom, and my life, forever. Just like last week’s… Why did I say that? What did I want from her? What the fuck was her name? Why am I doing this? My job? What? Why? The darkness started engulfing me… I was alone… In a huge apartment… With nopony else, just me. Sorry, give me a second… this part is hard for me. I wanted to cry, I don’t know why… I shouldn’t have, who was there to listen? Who was there to help me? Well…. It was.. But no, I was stronger than that, I didn’t need anything. I didn’t need help, I didn’t need help, I did not need help. That’s what I said as I tried desperately to put myself into a lying down position. I felt it, every cold night coming back to me. I started to panic. I felt static. It crept closer and closer, something, something real, something fake, I couldn’t tell you. I needed to fight it off. I desperately reached into my bedside table, pulling out a pill bottle and throwing down two little white tablets. I rocked in my bed, my chest tightening as I waited for the dark to leave me. Eventually, I felt the pull getting weaker, the horrible feeling, the thoughts, whatever they are. The room is a room, the bed is a bed, and my head felt heavy. Slowly I let myself collapse into bed, my eyes closing and the dark being just a speck in the corner of my mind as my head hit the pillow. … “Why in Equestria are you still in bed!” is what I was greeted with in the morning. I made a sorry attempt at opening my eyes, immediately squeezing them as tight as I can and covering my head in the duvets as Sven flooded the room with disgustingly bright light. “Your album deadlines are getting very fucking close and I am still waiting to see official, fully completed songs on my desk. Plus you have my star violinist you need to prep for meeting in a couple of days.” “So what? We meet, I tell her how this thing is gonna go down, I stick my dick in her and let the media eat it for breakfast. What prep…” I groan, letting one eye slide slowly into the light, not letting too much at once. “It’s a him, Record. You stick your dick in that and you’ll be ruined. Just… let me brief you first, please. You don’t even know what gender they are, let alone their name.” Sven threw back my bedsheets, exposing my now freezing body and the stench of whoever I had over last night. “And dear Celestia, clean up these bed sheets, I think my sense of smell is permanently stale.” I could practically sense his nose wrinkle up as he opened the window, letting the freezing air in… asshole. “Okay, damn, I’m out of bed!” I angrily replied, ripping my sensitive eyes from the pillow. “You’re lucky you are the best, ‘cause I would have fired the ass hat that has to get me out of bed by now.” I stumbled into the bathroom, half hearing whatever reply Sven gave me, blasting the warm water over my body. It stung, not out of tiredness, just out of fear and paranoia. I don’t know, I always kinda got that coming down from… well, yeah. Just, give me a second. Well, I got out, dried myself off and took some breaths, like that would hold myself back, like it would evoke some motivation. It seemed to work, stepping out of my bathroom I could instantly tell what he meant. My room smelt like shit, but, in all fairness, I hadn’t really had the drive to do anything about it for probably weeks at that stage. ‘I’ll do it tonight if I feel better. Yeah.’ I blindly told myself, meeting Sven in the kitchen. “Alright Svenny, let’s get this over with, enlighten me on this… dude you’ve paired your star with,” I fell into the chair opposite his on the table, watching Sven push a coffee my way from his side of the table. “This dude,” He curled his lip, looking like he was about to visibly grimace over the idea of using such a normal word, “goes by Octave, full name Octavian Melody.” He slid a resume my way, the image of a stallion who looked more wound uptight than Sven frowning their straight-laced frown right back at me, didn’t look too bad really. Easy on the eyes, I could tell why he had picked this one anyway. “He is an Earth Pony from Canterlot,” Sven gave me a look that indicated for me to fill in the puzzle. “Oh, this is an interesting little selling story. Earth pony dealing with a bunch of bullying or whatever rises up from his horrible little community and ends up in the big league. You want me to milk this?” I asked, giving him back the picture and picking up the coffee. “Exactly, it’s our job to keep interest peaked on this guy. Sure he is just some sappy orchestral crony right now, but my team will find something for him, maybe pick up some interesting gossip on you two singing in between tour destinations or something. Just get used to him, cause he will be stuck with you for a while.” “Poor sucker.” I looked away, kind of sick of this briefing already. “Yeah well, showbiz. You know the deal.” “Yeah… yeah, I do.” I muttered, taking one last gulp from my coffee. Sven downed his drink and got up from his seat, sending an atrocious scraping noise bouncing around my still sensitive brain. “Now, please. For the love of Celestia, I need your ass over to the studio today. I don’t care when as long as you can put in six hours. We have a lot of work to do before we can get these duets sorted. Please.” He grabbed his satchel from the counter and made his way for the door. “Only for you Svenny.” I winked, his eyes rolled. The door shut and the empty coffee cups sat there. I sat there and sighed, relieved. Sitting there for a bit longer I decided to get my ass somewhat ready.
ArrangementsMy bowstring at the ready, I gave a nod and begin slowly, my hoof tapping in the tempo. I began the starting note, taking in a deep breath and letting the melody set in. My colleague on the bass violin strummed his staccato beat beside me, quickly backing up my sub melody. It began on my lead, my hoof providing our starting tempo. Holding my cello tight, the notes bent and carried their strength through the lower melody. It felt amazing, breathtaking. But I couldn’t get carried away, not yet. I was risking my notes losing their smooth soft nature. The bright sun shone through the park, trickles of light catching my eye as the violinist next to me began his bright primary melody. It broke with vigour over the top of my soft melody, accompanying the silky undertone I had built. It really pushed through our lower support part, quickening the pace and actively catching the attention of the ponies walking nearby. His quick, vibrant work took a backseat as I began my solo. Allowing the bass and the violin to take a step behind me I pushed my notes through, filling the area with my cello’s smooth and slow melody as the violin followed his repetitive notes on my back. Another breath in and we were lined up again. Not missing a single beat, the park was filled with a tense moment of silence. Finally, the violin broke out again, piercing through the bass and I once more as the chorus filled the courtyard. Closing my eyes and tilting my head back, I felt the melody, our instruments working synchronously, raise the volume and engulf the passer-bys in the beautiful, slow symphony. The sound filled my chest, the three of us working our parts to blend and mesh together. Yet as quick as it began to take its full body, it was over, returning to a soft, quiet syncopation into the second verse. This time, it was the bass to begin his version of the pre-chorus, a far slower and deeper melodic version of the quick and vibrant violin’s own. My deep, slow notes built up his strength as the violin worked next to us, backing and building at the same time. Now ponies were gathering, circling us, entranced by our performance. I couldn’t help but smile at the gathering crowd, their chests filled with air as they clung to their breaths in anticipation for us to finish our piece. Not a sound could be heard throughout the entire park as we held for that brief moment. Then it struck again, the deep, rich violin singing its high pitched melody with our backing support at strength. Quickly diving in between the key melodic points in expertly timed syncopation, his notes plunged and soared, like a pegasus in the middle of flight. The warm rays of the sun came plunging down upon us through the tree we stood under, its beautiful autumn leaves fluttering around us as ponies swayed with our melody. The soft wind carried our chorus throughout the bright morning park as more ponies gathered to listen to the violin’s final high note. The bass and I slowly brought on a soothing decrescendo, the pegasus landing and our instruments finally laying to rest. Smiling as brightly as the song, the ponies around us clapped and cheered, the regulars impressed as ever as they stood together in the front, already knowing when we would be in the park. As the warmth from the day filled my chest, we bowed and shook hooves, our hat in the centre of the circle filling with loose bits. Laughter and happy chatter filled our area of the park as everyone talked excitedly of our music. When ponies began thinning out and we were left with our now filled instrument cases, we picked up and made our way to our favourite coffee shop next to the park, laughing and chattering the whole way. “That was one of our best sets yet! Have we even had a crowd that big there before? We are gonna have to do something truly special to finish off,” Bass Clef, the double bass player smiled as he sipped his coffee. For over a year, two other members of the Canterlot Symphony, Bass Clef and Sweet Melody, and I had been going to the park and performing in the morning once a week. It always filled me with joy to see ponies so happy to hear us. It was damn near therapeutic. “What do you mean?” I asked, sipping my coffee and raising an eyebrow. Both of them looked at me as if it was totally obvious. Their expressions turned slightly solemn to my amazement. “Octavian, you are moving up. How many orchestral players these days make it any further than the symphony?” This time it was Sweet Melody, giving me a sad smile. My confusion only deepened. “Yeah? Thanks, but I don’t know what on earth you mean by ‘finish off.’ Like the song?” The two were being really cryptic, It was kind of frustrating. “No. Octi, dude. We just don’t know what your plans are. You’re working with DJ freaking Pon-3. That’s working closely with him, tours, promotions. How many of these do you think we have left?” Sweet Melody put her hoof on mine, smiling at me. “We’re happy for you Octi, but we also know that you are gonna want to move on.” If being singled out could get any worse, it would have. I near felt hurt that my friends thought I would leave them that suddenly. “Guys… really?” I got up and put a hoof around each of their shoulders, bringing them close. “You can’t get rid me that easily. And no matter where I go or how busy I get, there will be always time for you and… this.” I gestured around the coffee shop. Ever since we began our now consistent visits there following our unofficial performances, the ponies that regularly saw us came in too, chattering and laughing about the place. Today was no exception: ponies from nearby gathered here to be around us. “We do something here that no amount of fame could replicate, and best of all? I get to do it with you two.” I smiled, turning the gesture into a hug. “Okay okay! I’m gonna puke, you sappy piece of shit,” Bass Clef laughed, pulling out from the hug. “At least with this fame-to-be you can finally find a coltfriend, then you can stop projecting all that gross love onto me.” “Funny, aren’t ya?” I smirked, sitting back down in my spot and wrapping my hooves around my coffee again. “I’m not gonna lie though Octi, we are gonna fucking miss you in the symphony.” He looked down into his coffee, pensiveness written on his face. “Sweets and I. Not to mention your cellists.” “Awww chin up, both of you. The cellists will be fine, they might even be a bit more coordinated now. We will still see each other heaps, even if it isn’t at work. Now will you two hurry up and go to whatever funeral you’re missing so you can stop acting like mopey horses?” I smiled, downing my coffee and quickly regretting it as the hot liquid burnt my throat. “Alright, let’s divide up these bits, give our tip and be out. Besides, we should really work on next week’s set,” I winked. “So… you nervous about meeting the guy? DJ Pon-3, I mean,” Sweet Melody asked, throwing the left bow card onto the table, much to my extreme annoyance, and winning the hand. With Bass Clef gone and my apartment with some lifestyle radio channel, Mel and I decided to get the cards out and talk. “I mean… I know I shouldn’t be, but I have no idea what the guy is like off-stage. I’ve heard celebrities are real assholes when the public isn’t around.” She threw down the queen of hearts, forcing me to play my king. Got her that time but, I was two hands down, so the best I could do is get even. “Oh come on Octi, that’s a bit pessimistic of you. You’ll be fine! Just act like you do when you’re around us. Show him what you’re made of.” Showing me a sly smirk, Sweet slapped down the trump card, the jack of diamonds, slaughtering my final card. “And how bad at cards you are!” She really got her jollies off on that one, scoring her final points. “Sweet Celestia, why do I play these games with you?” Hanging my head, I got up from the couch, angrily grabbing the long-since forgotten tea cups on the counter. “Hey! No avoiding the subject,” I heard from the lounge room. I headed back into the living room and set them round the place for the rest of the ponies that were gonna arrive soon. “Alright, I’ll go into this with a bit more optimism, but I am not expecting being besties for life or anything. That is for sure.” I slumped back into my seat. Picking up the hand that Melody had set up for me, I became a little more optimistic about this round. “Good to hear, and… well, Octi, just…” She sighed, resting her cards in her lap. “What is it? Sweets? You alright?” I asked, tilting my head. “Yeah yeah, just… don’t forget us. We are still going to be friends and I will actually kill you if you get too big for your boots. In all seriousness though, we are friends forever, and this isn’t going to change that.” She rested her head against her hoof and looked up at me expectantly. “Oh Celestia, Sweets. Honestly, with all the sincerity I can give, I’m not like that. I’m a tough cookie,” I lightly punched her arm, eliciting a small smile to break out over her face. “You don’t have to worry about me for a second, you’re stuck with me forever unfortunately. Whether you like it or not.” Her smile got a little bigger and she sat up straight again, clearing her throat. “Good to hear. Now, no more sappy shit because I gotta quickly beat you before everypony else gets here.” “Sven, I am seriously having second thoughts on this stupid fucking idea.” I wasn’t having any of this shit. This was the third song that Sven wanted me to mix with this guy. It started off as a single, then Sven begged me to do a second track, and now he wanted to push it to three after I’d just gotten the fifth song on the album produced. This whole thing was quickly getting out of hoof and whoever this stupid pretentious orchestra nerd was, he was taking my entire album from me. “You wanted to drop that dance track anyway!” Sven was puffing and panting, desperately trying to keep up with me as I stormed around the studio hallway. I just wanted to get to my office to be able to let my anger fester, yet that stupid agent of mine persisted. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want it replaced by another sappy orchestral ballad,” I yelled behind myself, trying desperately to make my hooves go faster without full blown running. I threw my purple-tinted glasses from my head onto my eyes and made an attempt for the exit. “Do you not understand what we are trying to do here?” Sven stopped, obviously worn out. The poor guy. I was an asshole, I’ll admit it, but something clicked inside me. I honestly couldn’t tell what it was, but I realised how heated and childish I was being. Sure, I was a celebrity, but did I really need to act like one? I genuinely hadn’t seen my blind stupidity until then, and I have no idea why either. But I stood there, went back to Sven and picked him up off the floor. We kept walking down the studio hallway, the exit left behind. “Okay Sven. I’m sorry, what are we doing here then?” I asked, trying to give my speech a bit of sincerity. He looked at me almost as if I wasn’t myself. In all honesty I probably wasn’t, right then and there. “Exposure. Think about it, Canterlot is a tough crowd, a bunch of ponies with sticks in all the wrong places. Your music is, let’s be real here, below them.” He finished that sentence with a snort and a grimace. “So, we are giving them something they love and splicing it in with you.” I was confused to say the least, because there was a lot more to it than just that. “Well okay, that’s good and all.” I slowed down and stood in the hallway, facing him. “But once this cute collaboration is all over, then what? It’s not like they will stay for long, I go back to my usual music and their snobby snouts turn the other direction again.” Sven turned away from me, a smile forming on his face. Now, it was his turn to start walking away from me. “That’s the thing, Record. After this album, you aren’t going back, not in the way you think anyway.” My mouth opened, I felt a pit in my stomach. The way he said that didn’t make me feel very easy. “And what do you mean by that, Gallop?” I chased after him, keeping pace with what looked like a very rejuvenated stallion. “No more wildcard DJ-Pon3. We are mellowing you out, your appearance in the public and what the tabloids talk about. You’ve been a drug addicted, high-functioning alcoholic. diva in the public eye for long enough. Ponies are losing interest in it all. You’re gonna settle down, find a mare or something. We are gonna bring out Record Scratch, Two. Point. O.” Sven smirked, taking the lead into my office. I stood in the hallway, dazed. Contemplating what that meant for me. I’d been in the game a long time, and whilst Sven tended to keep things simple for me, I could definitely pick up where he was going with me. I just didn’t know if I could change like that. It sounded like he could turn around and make everything change. My brain was already thinking about that dark lonely gap with nothing in it, and all I wanted to do was fill it. I didn’t care with what. Was Sven going get me a token marefriend? I damn well hoped not. I don’t think I could handle that. “Gonna stand there like a stunned lizard all day?” Shit. How long had I been standing there? I must have looked like I didn’t know how to take the news. I needed to act nonchalant about it, like it was no big deal. Just part of the job… I shook my head. “Sorry Svenny, zoned out for a minute there, all good.” Trotting on into his office he gave me a look. I knew it well, he was scanning me, my emotions, he was freakishly good at it. He stood there for a minute, next to his desk, I swear I could almost feel him probing into my mind. “I shouldn’t have told you as much as I did, so don’t get too excited. We should probably focus on this aspirin-inducing promotion first,” he sat down, rubbing his head as he did so. I took one on the other side, remaining as visually stoic as possible. I craved a solid drink over an aspirin, that was for sure. I sat there, nodding my head and thinking about what I wanted to say next. “So when do I get the privilege of meeting Mister Virtuoso?” I took the glasses back from my eyes, and as I put my legs up onto his desk, he used his magic to quickly slip a small mat he had ready for my hooves on his clean desk. Leaning forward, Sven tilted his head, quite well aware that what he was about to say, I wouldn’t like. “Well, before you two even start recording together, we need to get some promotional stuff out the way, we obviously aren’t announcing anything too big just yet, just some photos of you too together. We will get ponies speculating. But uhhh…” I leaned forward, “What is it, Sven?” my stern tone and mild glare might have thrown anyone but him off. “Well that’s the thing. We need to do some early promo stuff here. His official paperwork will be done by tomorrow so it’s looking like it will be... the day after tomorrow.” He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, ready for the outburst. I didn’t disappoint often when it came to my outbursts. “God fucking dammit, Sven! Way to give me a heads up!” I shouted, removing my hooves from the table. “Record! We need to get this through the pipeline fast! We need you two working together and doing this thing you may not of heard of. It’s called cooperating, and it needs to be done as soon as possible to meet the deadlines. The recording won’t be much long after. We will be planning the songs in literally four days! What did you expect?” I sighed, bowing my head and rubbing my face with my hooves. “Fine, but I’m not touching this Celestia-damned building until I need to do this stupid promo photoshoot.” I threw the glasses back on my head, lifted myself from the seat and marched to the door. “Eight A.M! Eight A.M, Record!” I heard behind me as a slammed the door shut and felt the vibrations through my body. I turned towards the door and felt for my bits. I could really fucking do with a drink right now, I thought to myself as I huffed my way to the exit. Author's Note Another chapter not far behind! This hasn't been the most successful fics I've ever written, but that's alright! because I am freaking loving writing it. Now I wanna make this a little interesting my amazing readers. I planted a cute little card game in the fic and the gal or guy to guess this fantastical card game based on how they play gets a very special prize. Post your guess in the comments and the first to get it gets a special something as thanks for reading, it really does mean a lot to me! -Milo
MelodyGetting absolutely maggoted. That is what I solely intended to do to myself after throwing myself from those glass exit doors to the studio. There was no remorse, no second thought, it was almost a natural urge. It was all the same. Being sober just… sucked. Except the other night I was at my apartment and there were drugs and nothing but myself to keep me company. Except this time I had trashy bar music, a barpony and other ponies to take the place of the drugs, it really wasn’t much better. My signature sunglass never came off like at home though. It worked I guess. It stayed that way and I had no plan to change it. Regardless, the bar was where I was and the bar was where I intended to stay until I could barely walk home. I hoped that I might do something extremely stupid in view of everyone to remain relevant for another month or so. Sven wouldn’t be impressed, but he secretly would at the same time. Me playing the celebrity game. It was all very much what they say and what they mean are two different things. Like… okay, let me put it this way; a manager will never ever in all of Celestia’s suns say to go strip naked and grind on some chick, too much liability. But they want you to do it, it’s more complex but you get the idea... “Hey you, what’cha drinking sugar?” Some loud mare bleated behind me. Putting my head in my hooves briefly, I turned around, appearing nose to nose with a very confident looking female. Her eyes gleamed the second she saw me, the look of someone who recognised a celebrity when she saw someone. “Well well well...,” She beamed, slithering in beside me, “unless these drinks have befuddled my vision, and my eyes do in fact deceive me, I’m looking at the legendary DJ Pon-3. Not only that, but he is in a dinky old bar all alone looking like he was dragged out a gutter rather than his private yacht.” For such a bold statement, she had a very soft voice. Professional, like she shouldn’t be here as much as I probably should. I looked at her for another two seconds then swiveled myself back around, “Aren’t you a charmer. Sorry love, but I’ve signed out of the autograph panel. Come back with some manners maybe. But for now, I’ll stick to being alone in this dinky old bar,” I turned back to the bar and took down the rest of my Johnny Trotter Blue on ice. I’m not denying I was rich, I didn’t care about anypony around me and I didn’t give a fuck what I spent it on, as arrogant as that was of me. Yet, without hesitation she sat next to me, the barstool unfortunately being empty. “Bartender! Two imperials of dry,” The playfulness gone from her voice, she sobered up quickly putting on a solemn face where the drunken flirtiness once was, she slapped some bits onto the bar and looked down at countertop. I raised an eyebrow and looked over to her. “We got off on the wrong foot, let me get you a drink and we can chat.” She stuck her hooves out at my grimace. “I’d rather have a conversation with old mate at the back,” I pointed my hoof behind me, sending her gaze over to old grungy pony in the back sleeping next to an empty pint glass, froth plastered all over the inside of the glass. He hadn’t moved an inch since I came in. “Yeah well, I haven’t seen you in ages and now you’re too big for me aren’t you,” A quiet pause between us. Not gonna lie, it was awkward. Like I was supposed to know her. The pints of dry slipped between us, “You… don’t know who I am do you?” I took another look at her. Unicorn, white coat, blue eyes, deep blue mane styled way to appropriately for a bar like this, I had no clue in tartarus. What I found more surprising is the fact that she even expected somepony like me to remember every face I came across. “Sorry… I meet a lot of ponies,” I replied, resting my head in my hooves on the bar and staring into the pint glass, the golden liquid inside making my stomach churn after drinking a twenty dollar glass of aged whiskey. Out of politeness I drank it. I don’t hate the taste of beer, it just wasn’t exactly strong enough for my tastes. She sighed and grabbed the beer, taking a gulp from the top and getting foam on her lip. “Yeah, I can imagine. Okay, fair, stupid question. Well, the name is Peace Lily, and in case you’re wondering or it might jog your memory or something, we were in band together at school. We sat next to each other. I played the bass violin, right next to you, the piano player, Record Scratch.” She put a hoof on my shoulder. “It’s uhh, been a while.” I sat there silent for a moment, eventually I sat up a bit straighter and took another swig at the glass she bought me. “We would always look at each other with gross faces whenever that kid who played saxophone wiped his spit-covered reed on his fur.” I looked over to her, doing something I haven’t done in a long time. I gave her a smile, just a small one, a weak one. But I really did remember her, and I did miss her, even if only bits and pieces came up. We hung out after school quite a few times. In fact, I think we were really close in the day. That obviously changed, and… well I felt bad for that. “So… what are you doing anyway? Life-wise and stuff.” She took another gulp of beer, a large one, if she was here to pick up stallions, she wasn’t exactly making a good name for herself. This wasn’t social drinking, it was sad drinking, I could practically smell it on her. “I got my cutie mark and became a counselor for ponies who have lost close ones, helping them get over the grief.” “That would be a niche market, not too much competition, plenty of work, good rates.” I replied, putting my glass back down. “So, a professional psych mare with a decent income comes into a bar built for the sad and lonely.” “I could say the same the same thing to you,” she challenged, narrowing her eyes at me. “Yeah, well…” I took another gulp of my drink, it wasn’t doing much for me but I thought I might as well just finish the damn thing. “Being a celebrity, surrounded by ponies all the time, it’s is pretty fucking lonely. It sounds cliche but… well cliches exist for a reason.” She sat there, looking down at the bar for a moment, “Oh.” I sat up quickly putting my hooves out, “Sorry, sorry for the swearing.” Quickly as lightning she looked shocked, sitting herself up straight, “No! No, it’s-.” “I uhh, didn’t know if-” I stammered. “it’s fine! Don’t worry-.” “If I say?” “No it’s fine, this world is already too…” “Censored?” I asked. “Yeah…” Probably the longest pause in my entire life had encompassed the moment, so long in fact that we both managed to finish our pints and get a refill, this time on me. I finally broke the killer silence after another sip from my next drink,.“So you never told me why you were here.” “Oh. Uhh, well, same reason you’re here I guess. I deal with ponies everyday talking about how much they loved their dead loved ones, meanwhile all I want is to have nothing to do with mine,” She finished, wobbling in her seat a little. “Like you said, you can be surrounded with every pony in Equestria, doesn’t mean that you’re happy.” “Cheers to that.” A clink of two pint glasses and a large gulp of beer, I was starting to feel the alcohol. Yet as soon as that golden liquid stopped moving through my lips, I felt something. It was in the pit of my stomach, something that told me I couldn’t be here. I needed to take a walk, or go home. I just needed to get out of the bar, I don’t know why, I don’t know what, it just… hit me. “I’m sorry Lily, I need to uhh… go.” She looked up at me stumbling out of my seat, confusion and shock on her face, “What?” Half of me wanted to stay. That side begged me to stay, to keep talking. But another wanted nothing to do with the bar anymore. It wanted nothing to do with Lilly. I don’t know what it was, I really don’t. I just… hit me “I’m sorry, I realised I can’t be here.” She got up also, putting her hoof on my shoulder. “W-wait! Uhh... well if you have to go,” She got out a pen and grabbed the back of her drinks receipt, scrawling her address onto it. “Here, just in case you wanna… unno. Reconnect. It’s…It’s good to see you and I really did miss you when we stopped talking, just… keep that, you never know.” I took it, gave her a smile and a nod, We both went into a little hug and I began walking to the exit of the bar, a sinking feeling hitting the pit of my stomach again. You’re so broken you can’t even take chances when they punch you in the face drummed through my head the second I exited the bar. “It. It was good to see you Lily.” I gave her a smile and made my way out the bar and into the cold night. I’m not exaggerating when I said it was cold either. Like, wow, I don’t know if it was the alcohol or whatever but I could really feel it that night. The wind bit, the ice went up my hooves, snow falling, it was killing me. Yet, this was Canterlot, it wasn’t overly late in all fairness but there were ponies everywhere dressed in a whole lot more than what I was. The city known for its height in fashion certainly didn’t disappoint. Coachponies waited for the important, the unimportant and every pony in between. This was inner city on a Wednesday night, when ponies saw the opera, or the art expeditions, all of the events I had no interest in even spitting in the general direction of. But walking past the Royal Canterlot Opera House, I caught the sign, it’s neon letters spelling out the spectacle all of the high life deemed an absolute requirement to attend. RCOH Presents: A Stroll Through Troughscanny feat. The Canterlot Symphony Orchestra It wasn’t so much the fact that some airy fairy-opera was going on, any other time I would have just strolled past it and not given a flying fuck that the ostentatious far-richer-than-me and had something to spend their money on. It was the fact that my new side-gig was playing his final show and I wanted to know what in Equestria Sven was thinking putting me with some string plucking orchestra chrony, and how in Equestria I was going to do this. I could faintly hear the muffled singing of some deep male Istallion singing words in his language. It sounded like it was in full swing of some upbeat Rivera clarinet/accordion crap. Nothing interesting at all to summarise. Walking up to the booth I looked at the attendant. “Hey, how much money do I have to pay you to get a seat in there?” I asked admittedly a little bit rough like. It must have looked comical, some shaggy tipsy homeless looking stallion asking to get in halfway through a highly appraised opera show. “You… uhm, you do realise the show is nearly over, right? They have like one more song to play,” he asked raising an eyebrow. “I don’t care, I just need to have a look at something, how much?” I asked, leaning on the counter a bit more. “Well uhh, the tickets were one fifty, but I guess you can sit in one of the unsold booths for twenty bits?” The attendant looked around for an obvious lack of supervisor, and with a nod of approval, I threw two fresh ten-bit coins on the counter, the guy gave me a smile and a nod of his own, popping the bits in his pocket. “Just down the hall, up the set of stairs on the right, and two curtains down.” I gave him an approving nod and made my way inside, instantly feeling relief from that freezing weather outside. In fact it was really warm in here, the entrance being enclosed really well. Of course it was lined with a fine lacing of red… everywhere. There was no shortage of that velvety redness the room contained I’d never actually been in a place like this. Out on the streets there was absolutely no care taken in my appearance or my demeanour, but being inside. It felt… different, like there was something to be had, or to be lost in here. I felt out of my depth, out my comfort zone. It was weird. I’d never really necessarily had a comfort zone, but being in this hall, this grand hall decorated for the pretentious and upper-class, I felt like I owed it something. I know that sounds ridiculous, but that’s really how I felt walking up the giant velvety red steps towards the second floor. Well, I started to cross the red curtain separating the second floor hallway to the booth that the ticket stallion told me was free. “-honoured for his presence in our performances tonight, and I hope you all have enjoyed our show.” A round of hoof stomping filled the theatre, it was… enormous. Truly, I’ve seen multi-million dollar stages, I’ve performed on multi-million dollar stages that are smaller than the Royal Canterlot Opera House. I still go there. Everytime there is a performance there that I watch I see it and it takes me back to that night. Near every seat in the audience was filled at the bottom, the hoof stomps where powerful, but not overpowering, it’s fascinating unno? The way they build those things so that the sound is perfect in every corner, filled or empty. You get lost in it, you forget yourself. You realise how small you are but it doesn’t scare you, you just forget it. You get lost in where you are and what you’re doing. Multi-million dollar stages are multi-million dollar stages and it’s no small feat to perform on them, but that theatre, it’s priceless. And the experience of being on that stage right there, I could only imagine is more priceless than watching. It’s… humbling. “But for now, we must begin to wrap up, no more singers are due but the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra would like to leave you all with a parting performance to not only you, but to our very own beloved leader of the string section. Please put your hooves on the floor for Octavian Melody and the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra!” Another round of stomping filled the auditorium, but this time it quickly died down as the orchestra started their alleged final piece of the night. The starting note, eh, I wasn’t a fan to begin with. I sat back in my chair, hooves crossed and sceptical. Some airy fairy major key filled the air from the string section. I scanned for him, the guy I had seen in the photos, the guy I was thrown together with. Octavian Melody. The initial note was quickly overshone by the beginning melody. I totally recognised the song, I had no clue what it’s actual name was, but it was familiar, but also new. I think it usually had a singer but I don’t know. It felt warm, uplifting almost, but also bittersweet. I guess it was fitting. Not saying goodbye, but more like, see you later. Just as I thought the chorus was going to build, it stopped. A pause, a breath, a silence. Then a quiet crescendo, a beautiful climb, up and down and finally at its peak, it sank again, but only briefly holding its shape. The brass and strings followed with their own echo and back down it went. A soft verse and echo followed. It was warm and uplifting, preparing us for the new chorus. And wow, here it came. The brass backing up the woodwinds as an iconic melody played out. It was beautiful, it was sad, it didn’t feel much like an ending. It felt like a beginning. But once again it cut off, this time the climb and echo building and filling the room with this light feeling of both grace and paramountcy. It was building what was next to come, you could feel it in your chest. I closed my eyes and it took me back, younger me, at home, with my childhood friends watching the sunset over canterlot. It came crashing over me, the woodwind, the strings, wow the strings. They brought on a full crescendo of the chorus, the brass built behind the back and used their sound to carry it all forward. Now all you could hear in the entire auditorium was this amazing music, I could barely see any individual on the stage but I could hear all of the different elements at once, filling my ears and my chest. It made me feel things greater than myself, I lost where I was and then the brass took over the chorus. The power and elegance, with the woodwinds backing them up, the violins playing alongside them. It felt… majestic, prideful, happy, amazing. Time to Say Goodbye… I think that’s what the song was. But it ended on this beautiful crescendo, that filled me with warmth. I never saw him. I was too far away, but knowing he was leading something like that, I didn’t know how to feel. I was conflicted between who I was supposed to be and who I wanted to be when he met me. I was pretty damn emotional after it all. I kind of saw why those posh people went to those things. It’s not about lyrics and not about finding yourself in some angry electro music, but the opposite. I was obsessed with losing myself. I ran out from the curtain before anypony left, their hoofbeats and applause still littered the theatre as the orchestra did their final bows. I ran off. I had tears in my eyes, because it was all over and I had returned to who I was. I was me, this pathetic, self-loathing, half assed celebrity who didn’t know what the fuck he wanted in life. But I had experienced something. I had lost myself without drugs or alcohol or sex. For a long time I forgot about the hole in me that constantly needed filling. So I went off, I went home, to my drab, dreary, sad, lonely apartment to do something I hadn’t done in a very long time. It was time to find myself, to rediscover myself a way I hadn’t done in years. By entirely losing myself.
