The walls of Vinyl’s dressing room pulsed in conjunction with the beat being played on stage. I could faintly hear the music, its hypnotic notes in a three/fourths rhythm; however, the bass was powerful, overwhelming the harmony. It was a shame I couldn’t find myself to like the song. I know how some artists put a lot of heart into their pieces. But too much distortion only forces me to cover my ears.
My eyes fanned over my dear friend as she continued to obsess over the same crumpled paper for the last few hours. Vinyl paced around what little space she had, her lips miming the hidden words.
In a frustrated fit, Vinyl tossed herself onto the small, black sofa. She turned over, giving me her blank, white back to stare at.
“Vinyl, you okay?” I asked as she sat on my chair. Yes, it was a stupid question to ask, especially to an already upset pony. However, it was the only natural thing to say.
“What do you think?” Vinyl countered. An expected and predictable response.
The mirror to my right echoed my friend. At least my reflection agreed with me; something had to be done before Vinyl goes on stage.
“I am proud of you,” I said to Vinyl’s reflection.
Her body flinched in response and I couldn’t resist giggling. “I see compliments still ruin your occasional pity party.”
My gray reflection looked at my small, pink bow, then right back up to me. Go to her.
The moment I stood up, my forehoof crunched down on the paper Vinyl had worked so hard on. And yet, it was treated with little care. I picked it up and did what I could to flatten it. The folds were still visible, but the surface was much smoother.
“Like I said, ‘I’m proud of you,’” I repeated.
Defeated, Vinyl sighed, “I know you are.”
I scanned over the title at the top of the musical piece. “Hit Singles,” it read. “I’m proud that you were able to write another song.”
“It sure took a lot of convincing to get me to writing it,” Vinyl said.
She moved slow, but my friend managed to sit upright and face me. “And I have you to thank.”
“You are very welcome!” I shoved my muzzle into the air as if I had the means to gloat.
Vinyl rolled her light-violet eyes, though her smile betrayed her annoyed gesture. “And… thanks for being here.”
I was tempted to repeat myself, though I felt it would be better to focus on the issue that swallowed my friend. “I know your fans will love your new song.”
“Will they?” Vinyl challenged. “I don’t know if it will top everything else I’ve done.”
“You’ll never know until you try.”
Vinyl’s tail curled around her. “I know. I just… I just hate this hesitation! It’s been two years, Octavia! Two years since I’ve written anything!”
Good, she was venting. I walked over to Vinyl and gave her the song. Vinyl clutched the paper close like a mother cradling her beloved child. The troubled musician continued to vent, “I’ve put so much effort into all of my songs, and yet, ponies just want to hear like… eight of them compared to the dozens of songs I’ve written.”
“Sounds to me like you are explaining exactly what your newest song is trying to express,” I said.
“But tell me, Vinyl, do you have fans?”
My friend slowly nodded. A nod was all I needed.
“There are ponies out there who have been waiting for you to announce something new; something big! I completely understand how you feel when ponies only want that one or two songs from you.
I placed a hoof on Vinyl’s chest, pushing the paper she clutched against her. “But! There are those, like myself, who love what you do and love you for you. Those fans will listen to your words. You will have ponies who will glaze over your songs. But your fans will pay attention. I will pay attention. If you are too focused on how much attention your song will get, you will be tormenting yourself even more if ‘Hit Singles’ doesn’t gain a lot of traction.”
I observed the paper Vinyl continued to hold. “I know exactly what you want out of that song, Vinyl. Trust me, I want everypony to love your newest creation. But don’t focus on that outcome too much. Remember why you love playing music.”
Vinyl licked her lips as if I appetized her to a three-course meal. The music outside Vinyl’s dressing room abruptly ended, allowing the crowd to be heard as they cheered. “They’re calling for you,” I said, gesturing toward the direction of the roar.
“No, they’re cheering because the song’s over,” Vinyl grinned.
“But your song is next,” I argued with my own smirk.
“No, I’ve got twenty more minutes until I go onstage!”
“How about be artistic and see when somepony is using analogies!”
“Because I’m a smart ass,” Vinyl winked.
I prepared to launch another witty remark, but I was not expecting Vinyl to lunge at me. She pounced from the couch and used a spell to pin my knees in an unbreakable hold. Thankfully, the magic Vinyl cast kept me from crashing over.
“Thanks, Octavia. And… sorry for being so resistant.”
“Any time,” I said as I did a small pat on Vinyl’s shoulder.
“Even at 3 am?”
“Even at 3 am.”
It was always hard to get my stubborn friend to share her heart, but when it happens, it’s real and true. And it forces her to turn beat red; and thanks to her white fur, it’s impossible for Vinyl to hide. When I managed to see her face, I quickly pointed it out, “I didn’t know you can change color.”
Vinyl pursed her lips and looked away from me. “And I’m sure you will become more red in the face when I tell you that Note Worthy will be an audience member.”
Vinyl’s eyes widened and her magical color changing abilities did as I predicted. “He’s here?!”
“He is,” I confirmed.
At once, Vinyl Scratch was on the move. She climbed onto her chair and frantically began prettying herself up. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here?!” Vinyl barked.
“He told me he wanted to surprise you.”
“O-oh.”
Vinyl shuffled in her seat like a love-struck mare. “I hope he likes my song.”
“I’m sure he will. Just don’t tell him I told you he was attending.”
“Don’t worry, I will.”
Author's Note
Can I hear a quack? :3
