Heart 𝄞Beats♫

One more class to go. Octavia thought, withholding a smile. This is it. I'm going to march in there, sit down next to her, and apologize.

Octavia took a deep, reassuring breath as she calmed herself and set her worries aside. Her mind had been swarming for the last two nights with thoughts of resentment towards her mother for denying her so many chances, fears that she would be forever broken, and worry over what she had said to Miss Scratch. She didn't mean for what she said to have had such a negative impact on her, but that didn't change the fact that it did, and Octavia was determined to make it right, to prove to herself that she was not broken, that she could live her life to its fullest and have a chance at everything she had ever wanted.

She had played the conversation in her head from every angle, over and over, so much that she found herself garnering peculiar glances from her classmates as she realized she had become completely entranced in her own thoughts, at times. She shook her head with an inward smile, finding humor in how she was fretting over the situation. Yes, she felt guilty, and yes she wanted to make amends. It was who she was, at heart: a caring pony who, deep down, didn't want to hurt anyone. Still, she found it humorous the lengths at which she had gone to right this bad experience. Had she not known any better, Octavia might even entertained the thought that she cared a little-

"Pardon me, Miss Philharmonica." Professor Steel-Shield stated, pulling Octavia from her thoughts as she turned to face her steely-eyed instructor who simply stared at her, impatiently, until he cleared his throat and motioned behind her.

Oh! Of course! Octavia realized as she turned to see what was behind her. She had been standing in front of the door to her psychology class for the past two minutes, staring silently at the wooden door with the large framed window. She sheepishly stepped out of the way to allow the pegasus the opportunity to unlock and step through the door before Octavia followed and took her seat at the front, on the opposite side of the aisle, this time, right next to where Miss Scratch was supposed to sit.

As she waited for the rest of her classmates to arrive, she replayed the scripted conversation she had written out in her head, quietly mouthing the words of both parties to herself.

"Good evening, everypony. Glad to see at least some of you showed up." Professor Steel-Shield began, turning to write on the board behind him.

Octavia blinked in surprise as she looked around the room, noticing at least six more empty chairs than there were two days ago. Octavia realized, with a pained frown, that Miss Scratch was one of those absent. Did I hurt her enough to make her drop out? Octavia began to worry as she critically replayed the initial conversation for the thousandth time.

"Judging by the fact that Miss Scratch is not in attendance, I can only imagine that the reason for so many missing students is yet another party." the professor guessed, bitterly, as he sharply underlined today's lesson. Octavia, however, was far too engrossed with the fears and worry within her own mind to truly focus on today's lesson, and she found herself periodically glancing back at the door, hoping to see even a tuft of electric blue hair outside the door.

"Miss Philharmonica." Professor Steel-Shield announced, pulling Octavia from her thoughts with a jump. "If you would like to leave, you are free to do so, although I would have expected better from a member of the Piast family. However, if you would like to stay with the rest of us in class, perhaps you can tell me what the oldest psychological debate is, and what it means. If you were really paying attention, now is the time to prove it."

Octavia froze in her chair, stifling a blink as she locked eyes with the fierce-looking professor, who seemed to stare fury deep into her soul. She struggled to remember something, anything, that the professor had said before his question, and found her mind coming up blank. She felt ashamed as she let her head hang, defeated and utterly humiliated - this was unlike her! She had always paid attention in classes, scoring high above her peers. Now, she couldn't even remember the rest of the students coming into class.

"Nature versus nurture." the professor stated as he turned to address the class, having received nothing but silence from Octavia. "Two conflicting theories on when ponies develop themselves. Are we wholly made at birth, destined to fill a predetermined mold based on our genetics? Or are we shaped, over time, by our environment? Or, perhaps, are both true? How much is within our control?"

Octavia dutifully gave her teacher her full attention, now, her shame burning resolve in her mind that Miss Scratch was not going to be coming to class, today.

Eventually, class drew to a close, and the professor turned to address the class as a whole: "Given the lack of determination displayed by those who chose not to attend day two of the first days of their life, anyone who finds that their partner no longer takes this class will be given a waving grade for the assignment. You will pass, but you will be sorely missing out on a phenomenal psychology lesson. If you have contact with your partner, and they are debating dropping out, talk with them about it for more sake than just that of your own grade."

"With that out of the way, let's see who here is taking this as seriously as it is. Would anyone care to share what they've learned about their partners, so far?" Professor Steel-Shield asked. "Don't be shy, I'm going to be reading all of this when you write it down the last week of class. Yes?"

A yellow coated mare with a green mane slowly stood up as she lowered her hoof and struggled to maintain her balance. "I... I learned that my good buddy Dewdrop used to work for the Weather Patrol in Ponyville." the mare stated, her voice slow and heavy, as though she were hungover. "And he has a little sister that he worries will think he abandoned her, so he writes her a neat little letter every day."

"Miss Sunshower, did you come to my class intoxicated?" Professor Steel-Shield questioned, a hint of fury building on his tongue that caused the young mare's eyes to widen as she shook her head.

"N-No, sir. I'm just very tired. I stayed up too late, uh... partying." the mare stammered as her voice grew quiet.

"Then see that you straighten out your priorities and get a full nights' sleep." the stallion frowned. "Impressive, nonetheless. Mister Dewdrop, what have you learned about Miss Sunshower?"

"I-I learned that Sunshower was actually in the weather management portion of the Weather Patrol at the same time I was a junior cadet in the skyway patrol portion." Dewdrops informed. "A-And she's an only child but she's always been jealous of siblings."

"Wonderful work, you two." the professor nodded as the two took their seats, once more. "Theirs is a good start into what this project was designed to do. Already, they've found similar interests and even learned funny coincidences. This is the start of a good friendship between them, that much I can tell, already. Class is dismissed."

Octavia found herself practically stumbling over her hooves in an effort to catch Sunshower before she could leave, making sure to recompose herself as the mare raised a tired glance to her. "Miss Sunshower? By any chance, did you happen to see Miss Scratch at the party you attended, last night?"

A tired nod came from the mare as she pushed the rest of her books into her saddlebag. "Would you be able to put me in contact with Miss Scratch? She and I are partners and we failed to adequately discuss methods of communication, yesterday." Octavia asked, to which the mare blankly stared.

"That... Is a lot of big words..." she mumbled, to herself.

"She wants DJ-Pon3's number." Dewdrop reassured her, snapping the mare from her confusion as realization covered her face.

Octavia practically beamed as the mare took out her phone.

Vinyl Scratch gave a slight groan as she slowly opened her eyes. Her head was pounding, the light was killing her, and she couldn't find her shades to save her life. The mare chose to close her eyes, once more, as she tried to assess the situation without sight.

Bile. I taste bile. That means- Vinyl thought, before her eyes shot open and her mouth began expelling whatever she had consumed, last night. The mare blinked and shuddered as she regained her senses, realizing with a sigh that she was going to have to clean that up. With a start, Vinyl followed the splotch of her vomit all the way up the strawberry-colored chest of the passed out mare whom she had been sleeping atop, and her face grew red as memories came rushing back.

She had stared at Cherry Blast's text for only a few moments before her mind was made, instantly tapping out a request for an address. The next moment, she was on the cold Fillydelphia streets, shivering inside her black hoodie as she bobbed her head in anticipation of killer tunes, her current headset quiet while her shades sat firmly on her face even in the dead of night. She remembered hearing the party before she saw it, and a quick knock on the door was all she needed to gain entrance.

Sometimes, Vinyl thought. Being famous has its benefits.

She recalled the alcohol running down her chin as she chugged to the chant, finishing her mug while the poor mare who had challenged her had hardly even started her. She remembered the familiar papery feeling on her tongue as she made her way to the dance floor, forever caught in the addicting beats that threatened to rip her very spirit asunder. Memories of the strawberry mare with an orange mane flooded her mind as she remembered how she had swayed and bumped her way to Vinyl's side until the two were practically grinding on each other. The only logical step after the song had ended was to pin the eager mare against the wall and drag her lips across her snout and down her neck, tracing her belly, until they found their home in the hot, wet regions in between the mare's legs.

Vinyl found her face flushing, once more, as she vividly recalled every flick of her tongue, every gasp that escaped her lips, and every spasm she caused the mare, until the favor was soon returned. She remembered the party carrying on well into the next day, with guests filing out just as soon as more poured in. She didn't remember falling asleep after the second night, let alone pressed firmly against Cherry Blast's chest. Vinyl felt used, and clambered over the mare in disgust as feelings of betrayal flooded her mind while she searched for her shades and headset.

Did she really just invite me to eat me out? Vinyl thought, with a huff. She wasn't opposed to mares, and she was no stranger to several stallions, but something didn't sit right with how the situation played out to Vinyl. Snatching up her shades from under a crushed pizza box and swiping her dangling headset from the ceiling fan, the recovering mare carefully picked her way through the few ponies who were too drunk enough to safely make it home as they lay, dead asleep, on surfaces around the house. Finding her way into the kitchen, she quickly secured a pair of wash cloths and returned to the sleeping mare; carefully wiping and cleaning the vomit from her chest as Vinyl did her best not to wake her or dwell on the bitter feelings swimming through her head.

Unable to locate the washing machine, Vinyl resorted to leaving the dirty rags in the bathroom sink, as some frisky couple had awoken in the bath tub and were attempting to recreate their previous night, together. Having no other reasons to stick around, Vinyl made her way out of the house and down the street, thankful for her shades as she caught the sun high in the sky.

Oh fuck! Vinyl thought, with a start, as she whipped out her phone to check the time. It was 5:02 in the afternoon, nearly fifteen minutes after her last class ended. She internally screamed at herself for allowing herself to fall so low, to let an entire day go by. She prayed to Celestia that Neon Lights wouldn't find out that she had missed her second day of school to go partying - she dreaded the conversation that would bring. Would he forgive her? Would that be the last straw, he giving up on her and accepting her as a failure, finally abandoning a shitty pony after all these years of heartbreak?

Vinyl fought back tears and hurried home, not wanting to deal with anything other than food and a shower. As she hurried through the door into her apartment, she scarcely felt her phone buzz in the pocket of her hoodies as she crawled out of it and tossed her gear onto the bed, trotting into the shower. Vinyl could hold her emotions back no further as the cold water hit her back, quickly growing warm. She slid down to the floor of the shower and firmly held her forehead against the wet tile as she gritted her teeth and let the tears flow into her white coat.

She had tried convincing herself that it was different, at one point, that she wasn't like her father; an alcoholic who spent his days despising his grueling office work and watching television with several beers on standby. He hardly ever glanced at her mother, let alone address his daughter. In the rare case when he did, tears were shed and threats were hurled from either side as Vinyl did her best to tune the two out. When she was young, her solace had been burying her face into the side of her Princess Luna plush. As she grew older, her cope turned into drawing, then music, and finally she joined her father in destroying himself as she began stealing his own beer, her young mind fooled by the belief that if she simply drank it all, her father would have nothing left and he would get better.

She snorted at herself in disgust as she slowly stood up. So much for not turning out like him. she thought, bitterly, as she began pouring shampoo into her fur, idly scrubbing herself as she sniffed away tears and replaced her misery with resentment.

"Weakness ran in her blood" she remembered some asshole cop muttering as her father was whisked away to jail once again. As much as she hated it, as much as she fought to change it, she always found herself failing just like her mother and father had. Her mother was hopeless to change her situation, becoming too dependent on him and his abusive tendencies, and Vinyl grew disgusted with home life to the point where she had even tried to run away, at some point. Her family was such a failure, that Vinyl could only remember one nice thing her father had done for her: As soon as she graduated high school, a year behind, her 19th birthday present had been her father swinging from the ceiling of their living room. Shortly after that, her mother grew emotionally detached, and Vinyl found no resistance when a moving truck came to get her things for her.

It was a past that Vinyl tried her hardest to push away, but every time she found herself waking up after another party, the cops' muttering words flooded her head once more, and it all came rushing back.

The unicorn rinsed herself clean and shut off the cool water, wrapping her mane in a lengthy towel as she dried herself. Vinyl was grateful that the mirror was fogged, not wishing to see herself in such an emotionally and physically disheveled state. Content with her dryness, she made her way into the kitchen and shoved a cup of noodles into the microwave, finding herself lost in the slow turns and hums of the microwave until a buzz from her bedroom pulled her from her thoughts. Glancing at the time left for her food, Vinyl rounded the corner into the hallway and into her bedroom, where she lay on her bed as she fished her phone out of the crumbled, musty hoodie.

One missed call: 919-438-7692
One new voicemail.

Vinyl raised an eyebrow as she read the notification. It wasn't strange that she received unknown callers, but it was especially strange that they left a voicemail, as anywhere that would hire her for a gig was already in her contacts, and she practically shared numbers with any religious party-goers like herself. With a shrug, she unlocked her phone and connected to her voicemail, floating the phone to her ear as the microwaved beeped.

"Hello, Miss Scratch, this is Octavia." the voice began. Vinyl suppressed a groan, wondering which poor pony she would have to murder to find out who gave this prissy princess her number. "I wanted to apologize for the turn our conversation on Monday took. I... Am often unaware of how to properly act in social situations due to lack of experience in my youth, although that is no proper excuse. I was wondering if you would be willing to meet with me outside of school, on neutral ground, so that we may get to know each other."

Vinyl rolled her eyes as she levitated her dinner from the microwave and pulled a fork from inside a cup in her sink.

"I am not doing this for the grade, Miss Scratch. It was wrong of me to focus so much on my schooling when this new adventure is truly about forging my own path in the world, and I would like that path to start with you, as a friend. I feel as though we may be able to assist in each others' needs." Vinyl winced at the thought, more out of genuine fear rather than spite, as she brought a fork full of noodles into her mouth. "If you would be willing to forgive me, I would be honored to meet you tonight, between six o'clock and nine o'clock. Please call me when you receive this message."

Vinyl set her phone on the counter as the voicemail ended, battling herself as she stuffed more noodles into her face.Vinyl was put off by this mare, someone she had pushed away within the first day of meeting. She hated the way the mare held herself, speaking so carefully that it almost made Vinyl want to slap the silly out of her so she could have a normal conversation. She didn't want to risk hurting this mare, to get her hopes up only to destroy them once she learned of her issues. But, deep down, Vinyl really wanted to say yes.

Vinyl only needed one moment more to make her decision, before her phone was floating in front of her face once more, with quiet magical taps dotting the screen.

You talk a lot.

Sent at 6:09 P.M.

It took no less than a minute before her phone buzzed to life once more, capturing the mare's full attention as she dumped her now empty container into the slightly overflowing trash can.

Forgive me, much of my life has been spent by myself, being groomed to such a high standard that I never had the opportunity to understand how life operated outside of my tiny circle.

From Octavia, received at 6:10 P.M.

Vinyl found herself smirking in appreciation. For as high class and proper as she pertained to be, she certainly had some sense of humility. Vinyl found it comforting as she typed her response, thankful that this mare wasn't entirely snobby.

It's cool, I forgive you. Where did you want to meet up?

Sent at 6:12 P.M.

Faster than Vinyl thought possible for an earth pony, her reply came in, causing the unicorn to bite her lip as she tried to imagine how this mare typed so quickly.

The Teacup Café on University Street, 6:30?

From Octavia, received at 6:13 P.M.

Vinyl smiled and grabbed her gear before heading out the door.