The modern style clock hanging on the wall, a tasteless disaster of shiny, silvery metal and neon colouring, rang eleven. Octavia let out a long, slow sigh--Vinyl still hadn’t returned home. Clearly her night was going far better than Octavia’s had been. Or had gone for months now.
She supposed she should be happy for Vinyl--and a part of her was. After all, what sort of lover would she be if she begrudged her partner her success? Her happiness in things outside of the relationship? But that didn’t make it any easier for Octavia.
Octavia--once the pride and joy of Canterlot’s finer musical circles. Everypony had known her name and everypony who was anypony had sat in on one of her very exclusive and very expensive recitals. There had been no lack of fame or fortune. And still...what had it amounted to?
Fairweather friends and the endless repetition of the same three pieces night after night. Stagnation, ultimately. The near-death--if not outright slaying--of her creative spirit. She had not touched her cello in such a depressingly long time.
She had tried. Oh how she had tried. It was a ritual now: wake up, shower, breakfast, some light reading, lunch, wake up Vinyl, see her off...and then approach her old friend-turned-enemy. In the doorway she would stand, just looking at her cello, her eyes filled with desperate longing and bitter hate.
And there it would sit, silent, gathering dust in the corner. Mocking her. A testament to her wasted life and stalled talent. A symbol to her life’s love turned poison.
How was it possible that she longed so desperately to feel the weight of the instrument against her, to tune the tool to perfection, slide her hoof down the strings as she took up her bow, and just play...and yet the simple sight of it caused her stomach to turn? It was a sick game she was beyond tired of playing--it didn’t help that she was losing. ‘Come forth and play!,’ it seemed to call. And yet the closer she got, the larger it loomed, filling her with doubt and fear.
Vinyl didn’t know any of this, of course.
It wasn’t that Octavia didn’t want to tell her...she just didn’t want to ruin Vinyl’s good mood at her own success. Octavia was simply taking a long, well deserved holiday; time off to enjoy spending time with Vinyl, when she wasn’t off working a show. Like she did almost every night as of late. Just like tonight.
Vinyl still was not home.
The clock rang out the hour again. She didn’t bother looking up at it.
Octavia knew what time it was.
It was time to open the special cabinet.
=|--_--|=
Vinyl Scratch couldn’t help but sing and dance on her way back home, even if the few drinks in her system made her miss the occasional note and her steps a little wobbly. It had been an absolutely mind blowing night of partying and thumping beats. A show comprised entirely of her own tracks! Who could have guessed how much better such a thing would be.
She was anxious to get home and talk to Tavi about it--and then celebrate vigorously. Perhaps a few times. And then a little more after that. Who was she kidding? She didn’t need sleep, not as jubilant as she was feeling. And considering some of the other feelings pumping through her system, she knew just what to replace it with.
Between her steamy thoughts exciting her well on top of her feelings of success and being lost in fantasizing as she was, it came as no surprise when she wandered face first into a lamp pole.
“Ow, damn it!” she cried out.
This was why, she reminded herself, she had stopped accepting all the drinks her listeners offered her. In a way it had been fun, before she had met Octavia. It had been no trouble to get completely wasted night after night, all for the price of a few remixed songs and a saucy attitude behind the table. But Octavia had changed things--Vinyl liked getting home to her partner conscious a lot more than blacking out.
Octavia had changed a lot of things. Vinyl still slept in pretty late, but it was rare for her to sleep too much past two in the afternoon. It was kind of weird, actually, to have so many more hours in the day. Between that and the confidence boost finding Tavi had been, Vinyl had recorded so much of her own music. Sampling and remixing was fun and all, but nothing compared to mixing up her own tracks.
Now when the crowds screamed her name--well, her stage name of DJ PON-3--it really felt like they were cheering her and her alone. Not just the music or the atmosphere. And it was all self-sustaining too. Fantastic nights at the club filled with roaring and adoring fans led to afternoons making more music, which just led to even more fans and even more fantastic nights.
Tavi had changed what it was all about too. Gone were the days of the wild party pony, oblivious to the world and anypony in it. Now she had a career! A future. And, most importantly, a home.
She grinned as she looked up at the apartment building she and her fillyfriend shared. Her and Tavi’s pad took up the entire top floor--and the lights there were still on. Vinyl felt just a tinge of disappointment at that; she’d been looking forward to waking her lover up with a little surprise.
Oh well, Vinyl thought. Now there won’t be any delay for the fun!
She hoofed it doubletime up the stairs and ran straight for the door. A move she almost regretted quite painfully as she slid a bit on the slick flooring and only just caught herself before slamming into the hard door. She wasn’t sure she had ever been so excited in her entire life! Slowly getting her wobbly legs back under her, she very deliberately approached and opened the door.
As soon as she had opened it about a third of the way, she flung it open with a great crash and yelled at the top of her lungs, “Octavia Overture, where the hay are ya?! ‘Cause you’re about to have the luckiest and wildest night of your life!”
There was no answer.
She stood there, one hoof on the doorknob and the other pointing in the air as she struck a suitably exciting and attractive pose. Or at least, she would have found it exciting and attractive. Tavi could have peculiar tastes sometimes, though.
“Uh...Tavi?”
There was a crash, like the sound of glass breaking. It seemed to be coming from Tavi’s practice room.
Returning to all fours, Vinyl inched her way inside and closed the door carefully. She called again, “Tavi? You OK in there?”
Still no answer.
“Oh, no. No-no-no!” she cried as she ran to the practice room as fast as she could, the haze of her buzz instantly fading as worry took over.
She hadn’t been sure exactly what to expect--Tavi bleeding, covered in cuts from some mishap with the glass table in there or something--but what she did see definitely bottomed out the list.
The cracking glass noise had been from a bottle hitting the wall beside the door. Vinyl had to step carefully to avoid the shards scattered all over. On closer inspection, she noted it was an empty fifth of a very expensive and rather powerful brandy--Vinyl couldn’t remember the name. She could clearly remember that the bottle had been part of the special cabinet that was only for extremely rare and special occasions.
It only got worse from there. Aside from the impressive hole in the wall the bottle had knocked, music sheets and ink had been thrown everywhere. Some sheets were barely more than confetti, scattered amongst a dozen snapped quills. Vinyl couldn’t believe her eyes. Tavi always got really angry at even the smallest messes she made; surely she’d never do something like this.
However, it was the sight in the middle of the debris that really threw Vinyl for a loop: Tavi’s aged cello, a sizeable hole punched into it and its strings all a tatter. Tavi loved the instrument, often treating it more like a newborn foal than merely a tool.
As terrible as the scene was, what caused Vinyl far more immediate worry was the lack of an Octavia. Clearly she had to be around and still conscious--who else could’ve thrown the bottle?
“Tavi...?” she hesitantly called. “Are you in here? C’mon, girl, this isn’t like you. And uh...it’s kind of scary.”
A very drunk but clearly irritated voice called from the direction of the bedroom. It sounded like Tavi, but she couldn’t make out any specific words. Considering how important proper sounding speech was to her, Vinyl grew even more concerned.
She began to walk slowly towards the bedroom, calling out, “Hey, Tavi...uh, how much have you had to drink? ‘Cause it sounds like an awful lot...” she trailed off as she entered the room.
Octavia, for lack of a better word, stood in the middle of the room--though a stiff breeze would have probably sent her tumbling to the ground. She wobbled dangerously from left to right and moved her head like she couldn’t quite keep focus. Vinyl could smell the brandy on her breath from across the room.
She simply stared at Vinyl--or possibly at Vinyls, if she was any judge of drunkenness, which she was--and said nothing. The room was silent but for the slow, deep breathing of Tavi.
“Hey, Tavi--uh...so I guess you had a fun night, huh?” she started, letting out a nervous laugh.
Tavi cut her off with a snappish, “Fun. Fun?”
She could understand her now, but Tavi’s words were still heavily slurred.
“Uh...so that’s a no?”
“Of course it is!” she yelled, the effort actually causing her to rock backwards before she caught herself. “While you were out partyin’ and drinkin’ and makin’ merry with Celestia knows who, I’m left here, alone, with nothin' but a bastard hunk a wood for company!”
Vinyl faltered before weakly saying, “You mean the cell--”
“That damn thing! Won’t say a word I tell it to but won’t shutupshutupshutup!” She let out a laugh that sent shivers racing along Vinyl’s spine. “But he knows now... Yes! He’ll never speak again. I made sure of that! No more taunting--not for him, not of Octavia Overture!”
“Hey, Tavi--why don’t we hit the sack, eh? It’s been a long day for both of us--”
“Oh sure. You’d like that. Climb into bed, cuddle up, and just dream the night away.” Tavi’s speech was steadily increasing in pace as she ranted. “Why should I ruin your good night, your success. You’ve got it all--the talent, the fans, the career. And a fillyfriend to wrap the up the package, pretty as a story from a book.”
“Hey! You know it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like, Vinyl? Hmm? Tell me! I'm just dying to hear!"
Vinyl could only stare, her mouth agape. What was happening here? Was this some sort of nightmare?
"Tell me how you don’t go out almost every night to hear them scream your name and throw bits on the stage for you.” Tavi’s speech began to lower in intensity and speed, her focus wavering as she went on. “Tell me how your soul doesn’t sing to make music and to entertain.”
Tavi stumbled forward, just a few steps away from Vinyl as she barely more than whispered, “Tell me how you feel like a worthless failure day in and day out. A washed up has-been with no true talent to her name.” Vinyl’s heart broke as she saw Tavi begin to cry. “With a lie of a past. With no future. Who doesn’t deserve the happiness she’s found in love. Who couldn’t make music on a damned kazoo...”
Her words faltered as the tears intensified, but she continued to try. Vinyl was stunned--she could only catch snippets at this point, but they were more of the same: worthless, pointless, hopeless. The words continued until Tavi was little better than an insect, and then they kept on.
Shaking her head hard, Vinyl snapped to and grabbed the rambling Tavi around her neck in a hard embrace. Tavi froze and went silent but continued to cry.
“Tavi, you idiot. You idiot,” was all Vinyl could find to say, choking back her own tears.
Octavia tried to start up again as she pulled away, but her drunken state defeated her against the now very sober Vinyl. Pulling her over to their bed, Vinyl made her lie down and climbed in after her. Somewhere along the way, Octavia began to cry in true earnest, her self-hating rant replaced by words of apology and despair.
Vinyl had seen this many times in her adventures playing in the clubs. Ponies who had drank too much, moving from one extreme emotion to another. Raging against the world one second and apologizing to it in tears the next. The only cure was time--but the best balm would be sleep.
Vinyl held Octavia close and tight as she continued to cry. Every now and then she would mutter something, but Tavi had long since passed the point of coherency and it came out as just another wracking sob. With each outburst, Vinyl would pull her tighter and whisper pleasant nonsense in her ear to try and calm her down. And with each outburst, Vinyl would wince as terrible pain pierced her heart--but she would not let her own tears fall. Not yet. Not while Tavi hurt so.
Time passed--it seemed an eternity of torture--and Tavi slowly cried herself to sleep. The last thing Vinyl heard was the barest whisper of, “...love...Vinyl. ‘M...s’terrible...” After that, Tavi was calm and the only noise in the room to be heard was the even rhythm of her breathing and Vinyl’s own bleeding, beating heart.
The tears fell then and Vinyl let them go quietly into the stillness of the night. On and on they ran, wetting her lover’s gorgeous mane. She wouldn’t let herself cry out or sob--Tavi needed to sleep this off.
A small part of her cursed the mare in her arms--Vinyl couldn’t help it, even though it made her feel ill to think it. Tonight had been so exciting and successful, then she had to come home to this?
What am I supposed to do, Tavi? You’ve made my life so wonderful, so perfect...why can’t I do that for you?!
She bit her lip to slow the tears and break the angry thoughts rising within her. She wasn’t angry with Tavi, simply the situation. Tavi was everything to her now, worth more than even Vinyl’s music career. Vinyl wouldn’t even have a career if not for her!
Part of her had noticed, had been aware of the pain Tavi had been going through. But she had done nothing--why? Vinyl supposed it was because Tavi always seemed so strong, so certain in every last little thing she did. Vinyl respected and admired her so much, so how could she ever think such a wonderful pony could be in desperate need of help?
But that was exactly what Tavi needed: help.
A relationship was a partnership. You got and you gave. Anything else was simply selfish and doomed to fail. The very thought of it terrified Vinyl to her core.
“Now it’s my turn to give to you, Tavi,” she whispered, determination making her words come out like steel. “You make me so complete, so damn happy. Now it’s my turn to make that ‘we’re so damn happy’.”
She looked down at the unlikely mare who had become her whole world; a thin beam of moonlight passing through the bedroom window lit up Tavi’s face. It was a mess and yet still so very beautiful. Vinyl leaned down carefully and placed a kiss on her forehead. It was warm to the touch.
Tavi wriggled a little bit but did not awake. Though Vinyl wasn’t sure she wasn’t just seeing what she wanted to see, she thought she saw a small smile play on her lips. It lessened the pain and warmed Vinyl’s heart just a bit. But only just.
There was still so much to do, and worst of all, Vinyl had no real idea where to begin. She yawned, her own tears finally beginning to slow as exhaustion caught up. Yet the memories were still clear and they always would be.
Vinyl almost wished for the days of blacking out to return. These memories were so hard. But that was no way to think. Tavi needed her. Her friend, her partner, her lover--she needed Vinyl Scratch. Nothing could compare with that feeling.
Vinyl finally drifted off to sleep as the last of her tears fell, clutching Tavi tight and enjoying the shared warmth of their entangled bodies. This feeling was worth a dozen nights of pain and tears--a hundred! But Vinyl would figure out a way to make sure that wasn’t required.
The last thought to cross her mind as the darkness of sleep took her was the simple repetition of what drove her: I love you, Tavi...and I will save you from yourself.
