Decrescendo

Getting 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.