Affettuoso: A Romance in Four Parts

Vinyl rolled out of bed with a groan, and staggered to her bedroom door. She stumbled forward, throwing her weight against it for a moment before pushing herself back, pulling the door open with her momentum, then launching herself forward.

“Morning,” she muttered to Octavia as she lurched out of her room.

“Morning, Vinyl,” Octavia said. “Coffee’s on.”

Vinyl grunted unintelligibly as she made her way to the kitchen. She plucked a mug out of the cupboard, and poured herself a cup of the dark, steaming liquid. She leaned back against the kitchen counter and breathed in the aroma.

Vinyl took a careful sip as she regarded her housemate, who was seated on the couch in the living room, mug of tea, and newspaper in hand. Vinyl couldn’t understand where she even found newspapers these days.

And yet, it was so very Octavia.

Vinyl inhaled more coffee scent. She and Octavia had settled into a comfortable familiarity over the past month or so. They weren’t exactly friends. What they had was both more and less than that. It was the familiarity of seeing someone every day, and the distance of having no real overlap in their social lives outside of home.

Perhaps it was time to change that, Vinyl mused. Octavia was new in the area. She wasn’t from Canterlot or Ponyville, meaning she had no friends around at all.

“Tavi,” Vinyl called.

That earned her a sharp look. Vinyl hid her smile behind her coffee mug.

“You don’t work today, right? I’m going out with some friends later. Wanna come?”

Octavia looked skeptically at Vinyl.

“I appreciate the offer, and I’m sure your friends are nice, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Vinyl replied. “Get out. Meet people.”

“I don’t know, Vinyl,” Octavia said hesitantly. Why would your friends care to meet me? I’d hazard to guess they’re around your age.”

Vinyl snorted.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re actually pretty cool when you let yourself be. Besides, most of them are musicians. If nothing else, you’ve got that in common.”

Octavia’s face twisted.

“Well… maybe,” she relented. “Where are you going?”

“A decent restaurant in downtown Canterlot,” Vinyl told her. “A little upscale, but nothing too too fancy. Fortunately we know DJ P0N-3, so we got a table pretty easy.”

Vinyl flashed a cocky smile.

Octavia frowned.

“How should I dress?”

Vinyl shrugged.

“I’m just gonna wear my usual. Lyra and Bon Bon are making an evening out of it, so they’re probably dressing up. We might hit a club or something afterwards. It’s your call. Anyway, reservation’s at 8. Leave here at 7?”

“Give me the restaurant’s name. I’ll meet you down there.”

Vinyl’s eyebrows jumped up.

“You sure?”

Octavia nodded.

“I have some errands to run beforehand. I wouldn’t want to delay you.”

Vinyl shrugged.

“Whatev’s. Ima get a shower and head out for a bit.”

Vinyl downed the rest of her coffee and began walking back to her room.

Awesome, she thought, I’m getting Octavia out so she can finally have some fun and relax. This is awesome.

~~

Octavia panicked.

What am I going to do, she asked herself. Dinner at an upscale restaurant with people 10-15 years younger than I. What do I wear? What the bloody hell am I going to do? Octavia cursed Vinyl and her easy, iconic style that she wore so easily, confidently, and beautifully. She likely never worried about what to wear.

Octavia hurried to her room, and looked at the meager offerings in her closet. Even though she’d had the rest of her clothes shipped from home, she didn’t really have much in the way of dressy clothes.

It might be time, she thought. I might need to do it.

Octavia dug in the back of the closet. It had to be there somewhere. It had to be. Octavia dug further, anxiety driving her. It had to be there. I had to be…. There. There it was. The Little Black Dress™.

The Little Black Dress, or LBD, was a singular weapon in a woman’s arsenal. Wearing it was a statement. It bespoke confidence. Power. It was even a little aggressive. She hoped it still fit.

Octavia gasped.

She needed to find some Spanx. And to shave her legs. And curl her hair. And get her eyebrows done. Was her eyeliner still good? Did she still have a good mascara?

Octavia tossed the dress back in the closet and ran out the door, grabbing her keys and purse on the way.

She was going to kill Vinyl for dropping this on her, assuming Octavia lived through getting ready.

~~

Vinyl walked to the table where her friends were already seated.

“What’s up, peeps,” she called cheerfully as she neared. Lyra and Bon Bon were sitting a bit too close to each other. Neon Lights was sitting across from them looking both amused and disgusted at their displays of affection. Next to him, the twins, Boom Base and Cable Drop were laughing at some private joke. At the end of the table, Third Inversion sat contemplating his drink.

“Vinyl!” Lyra replied with a smile. “Come. Sit down.”

Vinyl looked around the table.

“Tavi hasn’t shown up?” she asked.

“Your mysterious housemate?” Neon asked. “Haven’t seen her.”

Vinyl sat at the end of the table by Lyra and Neon. She smiled lasciviously at the waitress as she gave her drink order.

“Dammit, Vinyl,” Neon swore. “Can’t we just have one dinner without you trying to lay the waitstaff?”

Vinyl snorted.

“Jealous ‘cause I get more tail than you?”

“God, Vinyl,” Lyra groan. “You can be such a guy sometimes.”

Vinyl frowned and sulked into her menu.

“Aw, c’mon, Vinyl,” either Boom or Cable chided. “Take it like a man.” The other twin snickered.

“Don’t listen to them,” Third said. “They’ve been sniping at each other all evening. Something in the water, I guess.”

Vinyl snorted and picked up her water glass.

“Why do I keep you clowns as friends?” she asked.

“Because no one else will put up with you,” Bon Bon retorted.

Vinyl groaned.

“Et tu, Bon?”

“Sorry, Hon,” Bon Bon said with a grimace. “I think Lyra’s been a bad influence.”

“And you’ve loved every minute,” Lyra smirked.

Bon Bon rolled her eyes dramatically.

Vinyl opened her mouth to throw a barb of her own, when she was interrupted by the host walking up to the table.

“Right this way, Madam,” he said.

Vinyl turned to see who he was speaking to. When she caught sight of her, Vinyl’s jaw dropped. Octavia was strutting toward the table on four inch heels, wearing a black dress that clung to her curves like a second skin. Her hair flowed down around her face, perfectly framing her smoldering eyes and burgundy lips.

Vinyl’s mouth went dry as her nethers did the opposite.

“Boys,” Bon Bon chuckled, “you’re attracting flies.”

Vinyl closed her mouth with a snap, and turned sheepishly to see Neon, Boom, and Cable returning similar looks.

“Dayum,” Boom or Cable said. “You never said she was a fox.”

Vinyl could only shake her head.

“Apologies for being late,” Octavia said as she reached the table. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

“Not at all,” Bon Bon said as she and Lyra moved to make room for her. “We were just chatting.”

“Octavia Melody,” Octavia said, holding her hand out to Lyra as she sat. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Lyra,” Lyra said, grasping Octavia’s hand. “And this is Bon Bon. That’s Third, Cable, Boom, and Neon.”

“Charmed,” Neon said with a smile. “So. We finally get to meet Vinyl’s mysterious housemate.”

“Oh?” Octavia said, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize I was such an enigma. Honestly, my life has been so pedestrian lately it’s hard to imagine anyone finding me intriguing.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Third said, smiling over his drink. “There must be more to the vision before me than simply the grind of day-to-day life.”

“Flatterer,” Octavia replied with a smile. “Unfortunately I’m mostly waitressing to make ends meet. If I’m lucky, I get a bit of session work as well. I don’t know if Vinyl told you, but I play the cello. That’s my real passion.”

“We may have to have a conversation later,” Third said. “I do some composing- don’t get too excited, it’s mostly mindless pop- but I occasionally branch out and do some recording. I’d love to have you, if you’re interested.”

“With such an invitation, how can I refuse?” Octavia smiled.

With that, the group devolved into idle chit chat and banter as the waitress walked up to take orders. Vinyl said little, barely trusting to speak.

~~

“We’re gonna go hit a club, if you’re interested,” Neon told Octavia as they finished their dinner.

Octavia suppressed a sigh. Her feet were holding up for now, but standing around a club, or, God forbid, dancing? Her feet would never forgive her for being in these heels for that long.

“I’m really not much of a club person,” Octavia protested. “I’d hate to be responsible for ruining the mood.”

“Psst, whatever,” Neon said. “C’mon. The night is young.”

“Well… if you’re sure…”

Octavia looked to Vinyl, who shrugged indifferently. Octavia’s insides twisted. The DJ had been curiously quiet during dinner, and Octavia wondered if she’d inadvertently done something to offend. Then again, Vinyl had never been shy about voicing her displeasure. Did she simply not want Octavia around?

“Of course!” Neon said. “Don’t think you’re going to get away with depriving me of a dance.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Octavia said, faking her best smile.

The club was quite different from the one Octavia waitressed in, much to her relief. It also had the great fortune of being on the opposite side of town as well.

“She does that on purpose,” Neon shouted over the music. “It’s a whole different crowd here. She might still get recognized, but the chance is smaller. That, and there’s a lot of fresh meat here.”

Octavia shook her head.

“I’m just glad she didn’t pick my club this time,” Neon continued. “I DJ too. I’m kinda her biggest rival. Sorta.”

“Sort of?” Octavia inquired.

“Well,” Neon scratched the back of his head, looking a bit embarrassed. “It’s not like I’m competition, right? We just have a friendly rivalry.”

“Then she’s lucky to have a friend like you,” Octavia assured him.

Neon snorted.

“Tell her that. Now. How about that dance?”

Neon extended his hand, which Octavia accepted, following his lead out onto the dance floor. In truth, Octavia wasn’t much of a dancer, especially in heels. Fortunately, she could get by simply by pivoting on the balls of her feet and swinging her hips. She swayed with the music, trying to find her rhythm After a bit of gyrating, Neon slipped behind her and grasped her hips. Octavia smiled archly at him and waggled a finger as he ground his groin into her rear. Part of her relished his needy hands on her. Octavia hadn’t had that kind of contact in some time. The more rational part of her knew it was a bad idea. A quick fuck was fine, but never where it could make things awkward amongst friends.

As the song ended, Octavia slipped away and headed to the bar.

“Vodka and coke,” she told the bartender. “Heavy on the ice, and light on the vodka.” Drink in hand, she wandered back to a hightop where Cable and Boom were drinking beers.

“Cheers,” she said, raising her glass.

“Salut” one of the twins replied. “Not a bad night tonight.”

“And which one are you?” Octavia asked.

The twin grinned.

“Not telling. There’s no fun in that.” he said. “It drives our boss crazy.”

“And what do you do?”

“Theater work, mostly,” the other twin replied. “Lights and sound. That kind of thing.”

“Artists in your own right, then,” Octavia said as she sipped her drink.

“Thank you,” the first twin exclaimed. “Try telling that to Neon and Vinyl. We never get that kind of respect from them!”

The other twin grunted in agreement.

“Bastards think that if you’re not front and center, you don’t matter. Forget that if the lighting is bad, or the sound is off, the whole play can bomb.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t be that dismissive,” Octavia protested.

“Nah, not really,” the twin sighed. “I’m just tired of taking their shit. Like it’s a big joke.”

Octavia chuckled.

“That, at least, I can relate to. Try being a cellist in Vinyl’s house. Especially one who’s never been first chair.”

The twins let out a good natured laugh and raised their glasses to her. Octavia raised hers in kind.

“To the real artists,” she said.

“Cheers!” they replied as one.

The trio clinked their glasses, chuckling at their shared burdens. The chuckling grew into laughter. It was in this laughing fit that Lyra found them.

“Hey,” she said, walking up to the table. “Did something happen with Vinyl?”

“Why?” Octavia asked. “What’s going on?”

“She… well…. She only does this when she’s depressed.”
Octavia raised an eyebrow.

“It’s hard to imagine Vinyl depressed.”

“I know, right?” Lyra agreed. “That’s why I wanna know if something happened. Did you get into an argument or something?”

“No,” Octavia replied. “I haven’t seen her since we entered the club. I danced with Neon, got a drink, and came back here.”

Octavia paused in thought.

“You know, she was curiously quiet during dinner.”

“I… I think you should go talk to her,” Lyra said.

“Me? Well… I mean… of course.”

Octavia gulped from her glass and marched in the direction Lyra directed.

~~

Vinyl tried to dispel the ugly thoughts plaguing her as she smoked the joint offered her. It was stupid, she knew. There was no reason to believe that Octavia swung that way, yet seeing her dancing with Neon still felt like a betrayal. Fuck, she didn’t even realize she’d been crushing on Tavi that hard. Sure, she was hot. But lots of girls were hot. Hotness did not make for crushness. Or something.

Vinyl giggled.

It was all Pinkie’s fault, Vinyl decided. If Pinkie hadn’t called her and convinced her to let Tavi use her house, none of this would have happened.

Vinyl took another puff. The world began to feel as though it was flowing around her, leaving her behind. She stood up from her seat. It felt like she was swimming in molasses.

“Vinyl! So this is where you’ve been hiding!”

Bon Bon and Lyra came walking up.

“Heeeey… Lyr. Heeeey… Bon,” Vinyl said. Her body seemed to be moving at half speed.

“Shit, Vinyl,” Lyra exclaimed. “You’re stoned!”

“Psssssssssst,” Vinyl replied with a wave of her hand. “Isjst a joint.”

“I don’t think that was ‘just’ a joint,” Lyra said. “Shit. I think we might need to get her home. Bon, can you wait here with her while I get Tavi?”

“Shhhhe… dsnt… dsnt like being called Tavi,” Vinyl warned her. “Css… Css she’s a stuckup bitch. Too good fr me. Us.”

Lyra stared at Vinyl for a long time.

“Oh. Shit,” she said. She reached for the joint in Vinyl’s fingers.

“Gimme that.”

“Nnnnnnnnuuuuhh,” Vinyl protested, flailing her arms in defense.

“Goddammit,” Lyra swore. “Fine. Bon? Watch her like a hawk. I’ll be back with Tavi.”

Bon Bon nodded, and Lyra stalked off.

“Yooon Lyra’re good together,” Vinyl told Bon Bon as she swam toward a table. “‘S good.”

“I like to think so,” Bon Bon said. “So when are you settling down?”

“Psssssst… DJ P0N-3 don’ settle with no one,” she replied, sitting down.

“No?” asked Bon Bon. “What about Vinyl Scratch?”

“I donneed anyone,” Vinyl protested. “‘Specially no stuck-up cellist.”

“I… see,” Bon Bon replied. “Well… I think you should give a particular cellist the benefit of the doubt. I don’t think she’s as stuck-up as you think.”

“No. Shain’t,” Vinyl mourned placing her head on the table. “Still too good fr me.”

Too good for me, Vinyl thought. Octavia was a classy lady, no matter her circumstances. All it took was a quick spruce-up and a nice dress, and she floored all of Vinyl’s friends, leaving Vinyl herself feeling… well, feeling like a boy. A rawboned youth discovering women for the first time. It was as funny as it was sad.

“My goodness, Vinyl. What have you been up to?” Octavia said as she walked up, Lyra two steps behind her.

Vinyl bolted upright, her eyes wide.

“Nnnnuuuuhhhh!” she exclaimed.

Octavia raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question. Vinyl felt her irritation rising. Vinyl was an adult, able to take care of herself, not someone that needed looking after. She was DJ P0N-3, after all. She made herself a well-paying career with little more than hard work, talent, and a little dumb luck.

“Hey,” she shouted, “don’ lookame that way! Just cs... cs you need you need a cock ‘n you, don’ mean I’m nuttin’. I ain’t ‘neath you! I don’ need you! I… I got… skills. Yeah.”

Octavia’s face was a white, unreadable mask of tension.

“Tavi,” Lyra interjected, “I think you should take her home.”

“She gets to call you ‘Tavi’, even,” Vinyl muttered.

“Come, Vinyl,” Octavia said finally. “I think we should be going home.”

Bon Bon helped Vinyl to her feet, and they staggered toward the door.

“I’m sorry!” Vinyl sobbed suddenly. “I… I wan’ed tonight to be special. I… I just wan’ed…”

“Oh, hey,” Neon called, running up to them. “I wanted to warn you…. Oh. Too late.”

“Too late for what?” Lyra demanded.

“I caught some guys with weed, which, you know, whatever. But they were lacing it with Ketamine. Looks like Vinyl partook.”

Neon gave Octavia a serious look.

“Go easy on her. She probably won’t even remember tonight,” he said.

Octavia nodded. She pulled Vinyl’s arm over her shoulders and guided her toward the doors.

“Come,” she said. “I think I’ve had enough fun for tonight. And if I don’t get out of these heels soon, I’m bloody well going to kill someone.”

~~~

Vinyl groaned as she stirred in bed. Her head pounded, and her eyes felt like they were glued shut. She pried her eyes open and staggered out of bed. Her stomach lurched. Vinyl leaned against the wall, trying to steady herself before she hit the living room.

“Coffee,” Vinyl croaked as she stumbled into the living room.

“Tea,” Octavia countered.

Vinyl groaned as she made it to the kitchen, only to find the coffee pot empty.

Octavia pushed a warm mug into Vinyl’s hands.

“Tea,” she repeated. “Peppermint-green tea with honey. It should settle your stomach.”

Vinyl let out a groan.

“You’re mean.”

Octavia stayed silent.

Vinyl sipped her tea. It wasn’t bad, really. It was no coffee, of course, but it was sweet and soothing. When it was gone, Vinyl looked to where Octavia had seated herself. She was sitting in a chair, attention studiously trained on a book. She was dressed casually, looking much more like Octavia than the devastating creature that had shown up last night. But unlike most mornings, where they spent a leisurely morning, Vinyl with her coffee and tablet, and Octavia with her tea and newspaper or book, simply being after a long, busy night, today there felt like there was a distance to Octavia. A coolness.

“The tea…” Vinyl said tentatively. “It was actually pretty good.”

“Good,” Octavia said without looking up. “There’s more in the carafe if you want it.”

Vinyl looked around the kitchen for the mysterious ‘carafe’. All she saw was an insulated pitcher. Hefting it, she felt that it was full of liquid. She poured some of the contents into her mug, and sniffed. Success. She sipped and grimaced at the taste.

“Honey is in the cupboard by the fridge,” Octavia said, still focused on her book.

Vinyl walked over and opened the cupboard, looking for the aforementioned honey. As she pulled out the bear-shaped container, she tried to think of what could have caused the rift between her and Octavia. Could something have happened last night? If Vinyl were honest with herself, last night was a bit of a blur after dinner. She remembered going to the club, but what happened after was mostly a blank.

Vinyl squirted some dollops of honey out of the bear’s head and stirred her tea. The silence dragged out between her and Octavia.

Fuck, Vinyl thought as she sipped her tea. This sucks. I guess it’s time to rip off this bandaid.

“Tavi,” Vinyl called.

“Mmmm?”

“Did something happen last night?”

Octavia put down her book and looked at Vinyl. Her face was stony, unreadable.

“You smoked an amp,” she said.

“Huh?

“A laced joint,” Octavia clarified. “Neon said it was doped with Ketamine.”

“Keta…. Oh,” Vinyl said. “Shit.”

“I have no experience with Ketamine,” Octavia said. “I had to look it up on your tablet.”

“Tavi, whatever I said, I didn’t mean-”

“The effects of the marijuana, combined with the dissociative feelings of the Ketamine,” Octavia interrupted. “I expect whatever came out of your mouth were your true feelings.”

Vinyl opened her mouth, but couldn’t find her ability to speak.

“Despite our differences,” Octavia continued, “I’ve enjoyed staying here with you. I even consider us friends. That said, I think I need some time alone.”

Octavia picked up her book and stood.

“I want to make four things clear,” she said. “First. I don’t think you’re beneath me. You are a talented musician, and, though occasionally immature, a thoughtful and kind person. Second, I’m bisexual. And even if I wasn't, my world would still not revolve around cock, as you so eloquently put it. Third, I do find you attractive. Quite, actually. But I wasn’t going to jeopardize my living arrangements on an ill-advised fling.”

Octavia walked toward her bedroom.

“Wait,” Vinyl croaked. “Four?”

Octavia paused.

“I’m glad you are feeling better,” she said. “You had me worried last night. And five, you may call me ‘Tavi’ if you like. I’ve been called worse. And besides, we’re friends.”

“Thanks, Tavi,” Vinyl said. “For everything.”

Octavia nodded before entering her room and shutting the door firmly behind her.

Vinyl looked down at the mug of tea in her hands. She sipped it cautiously. Curiously, it had no flavor. She dumped out the mug in the sink, and trudged back to her room, closing the door behind her.

~~

Octavia sat on her bed staring at her book without really seeing it. Jumbled emotions had been wrestling around inside her since the incident in the club, and she hadn’t found any more success in sorting them out as more time passed.

Octavia knew she wasn’t perfect. That kind of hubris eroded quickly in the sands of time. She knew she could be standoffish, bordering on prickly, and occasionally reaching all the way to waspish. She knew that her well-practiced manners, a consequence of her upbringing, only exacerbated the issue. She also knew that it was all a defense mechanism to cover her deepest, darkest secret: she was not a people person. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t that dark. The truth of the matter was that Octavia tended toward social anxiety and social avoidance. It wasn’t a matter of being shy, it was more like a kind of paranoia. Feeling like she was always on display. Always being judged. Life, of course, has no pity on the weak, and again and again, Octavia had been forced into social situations until she’d built up some tolerance, a benefit to someone who legitimately wanted to be a performer. Regardless, her condition came with a host of personality quirks. She was quick to judge. Slow to trust. Slow to make friends. Easily hurt. And often wanted nothing more to crawl up in a ball and hide away from the world.

Vinyl’s words had hurt. Her ridiculous, drug-fueled rant had cut Octavia deeper than she was willing to admit. She knew it was absurd. That Vinyl hadn’t meant it. Probably. And that Vinyl would have apologized if Octavia had given her the chance. Yet there was more.

Vinyl had said she liked Octavia. Well, maybe not liked as much as wanted. But still. What sense did that make? Octavia was ten years her senior. And Octavia was by no means unaware of the girls Vinyl had been bringing home. The kind with tight, trim bodies. Bodies that personal trainers and plastic surgeons were proud of. Bodies belonging to girls around Vinyl’s own age.

Octavia, on the other hand, was fully aware of her extra weight, the wrinkles starting to creep in on her face, and the rogue grey hairs starting to pepper her dark tresses.

Octavia threw her book to the side and flopped down on her mattress. She was starting to get herself depressed.

Focus, Octavia, she thought to herself. Your career might be nonexistent, but at least a young, popular DJ finds you attractive, even if she thinks you’re a stuck-up bitch.

Octavia sighed. This was not helping. She rolled over and pulled open her bedside table drawer. She pulled out an old flip phone. It still had a decent charge. As she hit the first speed dial button, she brought the phone to her ear to listen to it ring.

“Hello, Mum,” she said into the phone as the ringing stopped. “Nothing’s wrong, I… I just wanted to talk.”

“Thanks, Mum,” she said as she relaxed back onto her bed. “I love you too.”