Project Rita

Chapters

Session 1
Session 2
Session 3
Session 4
Epilogue

Session 1

Author's Note

Hey guys, sorry for the update on a completed story. I'm prepping for EqD, so I'm rereleasing every chapter with a revised version. Not much has been altered for this chapter aside from some tense issues, sentence reconstructions, and a few more added sentences. However, more scenes should be added into the story to make things flow better. So, for those of you who are stumbling onto this, I hope that you enjoy the story!

Session 1

“I don’t know where to begin. There’s this mare. Her name is Octavia, but I call her Tavi because it’s a cute nickname I gave her out of the blue one day when we were at school togeth — you don’t need that. Sorry. I’m not good at this whole talking thing. I think it’s easier to get to the point in as few words as possible. Anyways, there’s this mare, Octavia, like I was saying — y’know, Tavi — and well, she’s cute… I’m feeling a little hot right now. Do you have ice? No? Okay, I'll continue.

“So, I walk in the house one day and her things are packed up. I ask what’s going on, and she says she’s moving out; that she’s going to Canterlot, and well, one thing leads to another, and I’m sleeping in the tub and drowning and not in water, if you get what I mean. Depression. I’m talking about depression — okay, I see you get what I mean. You can stop nodding. Please stop nodding. Thank you.

“So I think that’s why I’m here. Your flier said you had a ‘Cure for loneliness,’ whatever that meant. That's why I want to help you with Project Rita.”

Done with my little tangent, I pick my tea up from it's saucer and take a long sip, tempted to turn up my headset to drown out the awful ambiance that had ensued only seconds ago. It was something Doctor Gonzo had said — I read it on his lips. He noticed that I hadn’t touched my tea for a while and pointed out that it was getting cold. The moment I took the cup and poured the lukewarm amber liquid down my throat was when I decided it was the perfect opportunity to think and to recover from the amount of guts that just spilled out of my stomach.

I told him about Tavi. I told him about how I felt about her. I told him about the day I saw all her things packed up and sitting on her bed while she waited for the movers to come pick them up. This next part I didn’t tell him, but I think he put it together on his own: I recollected about how I felt that day. Not exactly afterward — although there were those brief glimpses of memory where I was cuddled up on her ex-bed — but not before either. It was that perfect middle where it felt like the world was ending but we all still had time to reminisce.

I recalled how it took most of the day; from exactly 1:23 PM to 6:03 PM. There were several times when I choked on my own voice, ready to say something, but only squeaking. Tavi looked at me funny, but deep down I knew what she was thinking. Not that she knew how I felt, but she was probably thinking, “My... my best friend is really going to miss me.”

She said it, too.

I had hoped that when the movers arrived, she would have turned around and ran straight toward me at a breakneck speed, saying something corny like, “No, I don’t want to go. I’ll never leave you!” Instead, she complained to the movers for being three minutes behind schedule.

She said goodbye to me, and after that last chirp of her voice, the rest of the day was quiet. I remember staying on her old side of the room for some time. A few times I circled around it because my mind lost its train of thought, and I was stumbling around the house, my mind a blank slate.

Jumping back into the now, I had finished my tea and placed the cup back on its saucer. Doctor Gonzo, as I had come to know him before I signed the contract that would weave the next few hours of my life together, gave me a blank look from across the cocktail table. I didn’t get the guy. Well, I could put all the small stuff together and get an idea of him.

The griffon wasn’t too old. Maybe right around fifty. He had a caretaker let me in — or at least I assumed she was one. She was a young griffon almost my age. At first I had mistaken her for an assistant, but I figured an assistant would be helping the old canary with whatever experiments he was conjuring up.

There were also the photos of a female griffon — much older than the one that let me in — hanging on the wall. Yes, Doctor Gonzo was also a griffon and not a bad looking one based on how far my knowledge of the feather-based plebeians go. When I came into the house, several of the pictures adorning the walls of the hallway featured the two in various activities. A particular picture that stood out was a framed newspaper clipping of the two, feathers tousled and eyes tired, standing in front of a dentist chair with what looked like a hair dryer attached to the top of it.

That same thingy-automated-do-hicky-mcbobber chair was behind me on the other side of the room, parallel from the chestnut leather sofa that I was sitting in. I caught a glimpse of it when I came in. Since I decided to keep my sunglasses on inside, I had managed to add another second to the snapshot. I didn’t want to stare too long, though, because I thought it’d be rude to look around the room despite every little thing drawing attention to itself.

Doctor Gonzo was explaining something to me. Most of it was, “This is what’s about to happen,” and the typical, “It’s only a prototype.”

“The herbs in the tea you drank should relax your nerves,” he said. “Within the next five minutes, you will feel a sleep haze wash over you, so don’t freak out. Any excited feelings before entering the Foresight Zone could mess with the machine. You’ll need to stay as calm as possible.”

I nodded, letting him know that I was listening.

“Right. Great. Fantastic.” He took the rolled up contract stamped with a wax seal, got up from the loveseat, and brought it over to his desk. “And you are well aware of the risk?”

I nod my head again.

“Fantastic." he said as he slid the drawer with the contract shut. "Well, not so fantastic considering the various death possibilities. And you’re fine with it?”

I don’t have much to live for anyway, so why not? I nod my head again.

“Wonderful, I suppose. I guess time will tell where it brings you. Well, I suppose we should get started. Please have a seat in the chair behind you.”

I didn’t have much of an option upon agreement to the waiver. The moment I signed, it was either I sit in the chair, or accept the lawsuit. I chose the former, of course.

Rita, the chair was called. He didn’t give me that much information about it, only that it was a project he has been working on for most of his life. Seeing it up close scared me only a little. Okay, a lot.

It had black leather cushions with four thick brown straps perfect for restraining a pony. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I laid against it and an even bigger shiver as he strapped me in. After I was secured, he left the room.

He came back in a minute later, wheeling in a table with various items assorted on a metal tray. The most noticeable was a large syringe.

“The tea is for the nerves. This is for precaution,” he said, picking it up. “It is possible that you will wake up with only memories of your alternate self intact. If that happens and you suddenly wake up in a reality you do not think is your own, this will ensure that you don’t have the energy to cause any damage. To Rita or yourself.”

I felt very reassured.

He injected it into my left arm, missing the mark by a little because he was an old bird with thick glasses. I didn’t say anything though, not even when a thin trail of blood leaked down my bicep from the microscopic hole he had punctured.

Five minutes later I was numb. Numbed and relaxed. Comfortably numb. Would I be lying if this was the best feeling I had in the past three months? No, I wouldn’t. Numbed and relaxed: the best alternative to laying on the floor and sulking.

At that moment, I realized I would have to remove my headphones and sunglasses. I felt naked without them, but I had to if that thiny-mahgizmo was going on my head.

I wrapped them up in my magic and slid them off, my ears feeling the bite of cold air. I handed them to Doctor Gonzo, and he placed them on a decorative table standing against the wall.
Adjacent to the chair I sat in was a closet. Opening it, the griffon rolled out a thick box with a screen and rabbit ears protruding out from the top. He turned it to face me, and I could see that it had little knobs lining the side of its screen. He turned one, and the black slate that showed my reflection turned to snow.

“This hasn’t been completely tested yet.” Doctor Gonzo said. “It’s supposed to project everything you see onto the screen and record it onto an orb that lets you view your alternative reality again whenever you want.”

Huh, I figured this Doctor Gonzo was inventive, but I didn’t think creative! I wanted to ask him several questions, but I also wanted to hurry up and see what my future with Tavi would have been, so I did what I do best and kept my mouth shut.

I think he took that as a sign that I was ready, because he lowered the device over my head. My vision became submerged in darkness as a pair of goggles covered my eyes. There was cushioning, so nothing hurt. However, the pressure of it pressing against my face was quicking becoming uncomfortable.

For seconds that felt like minutes, I sat there in darkness. My nerves were soothed and my body was numb. It’s much like I’m aware of being dead, because I could still think.

“Okay,” I heard Doctor Gonzo say. “The moment I flick this switch, a powerful voltage is going to course through you, and you will be submerged into the Foresight Zone. Are you ready?”

I bit my lip. If my brain ended up frying, what would be the difference? I would be either dead or unconscious. Flick the freaking switch!

He took my silence as a proper response, and a second later, I heard an audible click come from the gizmo on my head.

I opened my eyes.

I was expecting a thousand volts to course through my body, but instead I felt the smooth wind from outside. I was wearing my sunglasses and headphones again, which I took as some form of relief. And, I guess, some more relief that Rita worked.

I was bobbing my head up and down, my hooves prancing along the two turntables in front of me. I remember this night very well. My mom and I had gone shopping for dresses the day before, and I found a perfect sequin cut-off that showed off my rear legs.

I thought it was sexy and would attract a lot of attention, but my mom thought it was as flashy as it was expensive. She was right about its flashiness, because with the two spotlights adjacent from each other shining down on me, I looked like the perfect sapphire in the dampest cavern. At least, I thought so.

Music blasted from every corner of Canterlot Plaza. There I was, the center of all it: in my prime and standing on my own little throne of wub cannons. For the first time in forever, I felt excited. I knew it was based on the feeling I had at that time, but it felt great.

I remembered the months leading up to prom; the student council was desperately searching for ponies to fill the venue. They held auditions in the auditorium after classes, and, well, all I know is that there was some debate whether they should have picked me. Originally, I wasn’t supposed to go on, but the venue was one short. I got to fulfill a high school dream by sheer chance.

So there I was, performing. I came on right after the Bass Brothers and would be followed-up by Miss Wrap-My-Heart-in-Bowstrings herself. I couldn’t wait to see her again, even though I knew what was about to happen.

I finished playing my jam to uproarious applause. My forehooves shot up into the air as I welcom their cheers. I felt satisfied, like in that moment, I was following through with my dreams. Jumping back to the present, this dream hasn’t happened yet, but the euphoria I felt in this moment made me want to jump for the clouds.

I only left the stage when one of the student council members tugged at my tail, reminding me that others had to perform. I didn’t want to leave my little gazebo of sound systems, but I also didn’t want to be selfish.

I had just gotten backstage when I heard her voice. “How do you expect me to keep up with that!” Tavi yelled at the mare that had tugged my tail. “The ponies are wanting a show. A show. I was not prepared for this! I was expecting to get on stage and play A Symphony for the Moon, but no, I have to follow up on dubstep music and rock n’ roll! Are ponies really going to enjoy that?”

This isn’t at all how I remember the events playing out. When I got off the stage, Tavi wasn’t yelling at anyone. She wasn’t even trying to communicate with anyone. In fact, she was plucking the strings on her cello and making sure they were all in-tuned. Not only that, but I figured Tavi as somepony confident in their work.

Originally, she had gone onstage after my equipment was wheeled off and performed. It was slower compared to the other more upbeat stuff, but by then everyone was looking to just cuddle with their dates to some smooth rhythms. I could tell her this, but I couldn’t control my own body for some reason.

Then she looked at me. She shot me with that glare she always gave when she was determined about something. It held the perfect mixture of anger and dream-filled diplomacy to carry through whatever problem was in her way.

“You there — DJ Pon3 was it?” I nod my head. “Let us perform a duet.”

A duet? This isn’t at all how it happened. Initially, she had looked at me with a shoo-go-away look and said, “Congratulations” to me in passing. Why on Earth did she want to perform a duet of all things?

“I know what you’re thinking: I, the great Octavia. Why would I want to perform a duet with you of all ponies? You seem musically adept — almost as much as I. It would mean the world if I could share the stage with you. Especially now with the crowd still riled up.”

I said nothing. I’m pretty sure from her perspective I looked like a statue.

She leaned in closer, nervously biting her bottom lip. “Please, do this for me.”

So we performed together. Rather than move the sound system off the stage, they pushed it aside, making enough room for Tavi and her cello. Our sounds mixed together beautifully, opera and techno colliding brilliantly to form an explosion of rhythmic noise.

We finished to an ovation. The crowd was even more excited than before, just as I was. I came out of my little gazebo to congratulate Tavi, who was bowing to the crowd.

I walked up beside her and she turned to me. “If you kissed me now, I wouldn’t be mad.”

So I did.

Next Session »»»

Session 2

My vision became surrounded by darkness again. I was scared of it. I wanted to be a back in the memory — well, alternate reality. I wanted to be with Tavi again. I wanted to be there when everything went right.

Instead, my eyes readjust to the bright lights of the room as Doctor Gonzo removed the gizmo from my head. I squinted, trying to bring my vision back. I figured that he knew this was going to happen, because he slid my sunglasses back onto my face.

My eyes flutter open, still stinging slightly, but at least I was able to look around. I wanted to sit up, but my body was still numbed and relaxed. So, I layed there, staring at the box in front of me.

“I saw it all happen on the monitor. For the most part. The images are still staticy whenever it’s in use, but they should come out clear whenever you view the memory from the orb.”

I nodded my head, letting him know I was listening.

“What you just saw is where you believe the best place to begin the relationship would have been. There was no sound, and I couldn’t make out much, but I saw there was a crowd of sorts. I could infer you were at a party. Now I need to ask you: did you see the memory of the event into its original completion, or did you see an alternate reality? Was it a completion?”

I shake my head.

“So it was an alternate reality?”

I nod.

“Wonderful! Amazing! That means you are the first subject where the experiment has proven to be successful.”

I didn’t know what to think of that.

“Now I know what you’re thinking: Why is it that the memory you saw took place in the past instead of the future like I told you it would? Well, the relationship has to start somewhere. Therefore, what better place for it to begin than at the time you felt it was most right! Do you feel the time was right?”

I nod again.

“That’s good! Splendid! Spectacular! Everything is going right. Now, I have to ask you if you’d be willing to take things a little further. You already saw the memory you wanted to see and how you wished it were perceived, now you have a chance to see the future that comes after. Are you ready to take that next step?”

Does he even have to ask? Nod your freakin head, Vinyl!

“Splendid! Excellent! Spe—”

— Tacular. I got to witness a world where everything went right for a change, and now I get to witness a world where everything goes right. It sounded too good to be true, even if none of it is real. I would get to live through the events of What Could Have Been, and I would be able to review them whenever I want afterward.

Wrapping my sunglasses in magic, I gave them back to Doctor Gonzo and waited for him to slide the gizmo back over my head. He insisted I get another shot before going back in, which I agreed to nervously. This time he was precise.

He slid the helmet back on and my eyes became submerged in darkness once again. A flick later, and I was standing inside a house, my head bobbing up and down to Razorgrain & Cyanide, a metal band that I got into a little bit after our high school graduation. Tavi not so much.

And to speak of the devil herself, she walked in front of me, getting a good look around the room. “This won’t do. This won’t do at all. It’s all only one room, and no offense, but I’m not quite ready to share a bed with you.”

I open my mouth to reply.

“Okay, I think the piano can go there,” Octavia interrupted me, pointing to a spot on the wall. “And your wub set can go over there — no, no… this won’t do at all. What do you think?” She turned to me, as if I had something to add.

A shrug. I added a shrug.

“Oh come on, say something! I don’t want my stuff mixing with yours, after all. What will we have to do, cut the house in half?”

So we did exactly that.

A blink later — which my mind somehow registered as three days — and our sides of the room were separated according to our tiles of choice. I chose vinyl, for unrelated reasons, and she chose traditional lightwood flooring. That’s the Tavi I knew, alright: keeping things traditional.

We managed to get our stuff moved in before the end of the week. I had my own little throne of speakers on my side, and Tavi had all her instruments neatly arranged. Since it was only one room, we agreed to not practice after hours for the sanity of the other pony.

The year went by quickly. There I was, laying in my bed in my new home for the first time. There I was, handing out candy on Nightmare Night. There I was again, exchanging gifts with Tavi over Hearth’s Warming.

Here we are now, sitting on the couch and cuddling. We had agreed to get one for the center of the room at some point because we realized there was a lack of furniture that we shared. Being a couple, that was a big no-no. So, we compensated by buying the cheapest looking couch Quills and Sofa had to offer, and had it reupholstered by the wonderfully creative Rarity (“It’s Miss. Miss Rarity!”). Now we had a bi-colored sofa. Black leather on my side; brown wool on hers.

Tavi was going over her sheet music. I was listening to the newest album by Moldy Ham in the Sunlight. Yeah, I know. It’s a weird name for a band, but I listen to whatever I can get my hooves on.

With the music turned up at half volume, I barely heard the knock at the door. Tavi got off the couch, and cold air hit me where her head had been laying. I didn’t want her to get up, but I also knew that I didn’t have the control over my body to say anything.

“Oh, hello, Derpy,” Tavi said to the mail pony.

“Mmmph, mmmph, mmmph,” he mail pony said, which I assumed meant something along the lines of, “Hello, Octavia!”

“Do you have anything for me to sign?”

“Yeah, but I left my clipboard at the post office.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t get into any trouble. Things like this happen.”

This is the seventh time she has done it.

“Okay, you have a good day!”

The door shut and Tavi sat next to me on the couch, sorting through the mail. “Electric bill is due,” she said. “Only ninety-three bits this month. I’m impressed, last month you managed to rack it up to one hundred seventy-three.”

I wanted to test a new stereo set, okay? So what if it was for three days straight while she was on a visit to Canterlot?

“Letter from my mother. She wants me to come to the family reunion. My Uncle Rockefeller will be there. I was a filly last time I saw him. Nothing for you from what I can see. But there is — oh, it’s for me. It’s a… oh my.”

Oh no.

I shoot my head in Tavi’s direction, curious. I didn’t recognize it at first because we didn’t have this couch originally — we weren’t a couple when we were still living together. But I recognize that face of hers: the excitement. It was —

“An acceptance letter into the Sunrise Orchestra!”

My body was excited, hugging her even. But if myself in this universe knew what was about to happen, I wouldn’t be reacting the way I was.

“Oh, I knew it would happen eventually! It took a year’s work of filling venues, but I did it! Vinyl, we must celebrate!”

I agreed by jumping off the couch, running to the ice box on my side, and pulling out a bottle of vodka. I wasn’t a fancy drinker, so I didn’t keep stuff like champagne lying around, but Ocean Water was the smoothest liquor in Ponyville.

I poured her a glass and myself one too. I floated a cup toward her, which she took and sipped happily from. She pulled it away, letting out a refreshing sigh, and I took a drink from mine as well.

“This is great, this is fantastic, this is amazing! All my dreams are realized — I’m realized. I can’t believe it. Vinyl, I’m so happy to share this experience with you!”

She took another sip from her glass. I responded to her by nodding along.

“I couldn’t have gotten this far without your help. It was your collaboration with my skills of class at Cranky Doodle’s wedding that got Fancy Pants to invite me to perform for his wedding, after all. This is it, Vinyl, I — we did it. I love you.”

My heart fluttered and my cheeks burned as she said that. I covered up my embarrassment by taking another drink from my glass. If I had control over my body, I would have chugged it down, knowing what was coming.

“I’m going to read the letter again. Where is it? Oh! It’s caught between the cushions.” She plucked the letter from the crevice and cleared her throat.

“Dear Octavia,

We are proud to inform you that you have been selected as third chair for the Sunrise Orchestra in Canterlot. We are excited to work with you and hope to see you perform soon.

Sincerely yours,
Treble Clef”

“Oh, Vinyl, we’re going to live in Canterlot!”

The room filled with silence. Tavi’s face drooped at the sound of her own words. “I mean, I’m going to Canterlot. You can come with me, if you wish. I know you have a life here.” She tilted her cup upward, draining its contents down her throat.

I forced a smile. The truth is, I do. I was a freelance DJ that took whatever job would pay me, and I made damn good money as DJ Pon3, earning her a reputation over the years. To leave now when things were just getting good would be a fool’s move.

“I’ll go with you!”

...What did I just say?

Next Session »»»

Session 3

“So past? Future? Past?”

I nod my head, taking another sip from the herbal tea.

“Right, so past then.”

I reaffirmed him.

“Great. Splendid. Fantastic. So I can infer that you witnessed an alternate reality?”

Yep.

“Splendid. Fantastic. And it was the turning point?”

I kept reaffirming him with every question, a little annoyed that he had so many and antsy to get back into the Foresight Zone. I was ready to see what would happen next, but Doctor Gonzo demanded I take a break to prevent anything going wrong, so he gave me more tea and another injection. How long between injections was he waiting to give more? How long did these sessions go on for?

“The first session took two hours, and the previous session happened last night.”

Oh. I knew I would be the test subject of his experiment, but knowing that I was in his house overnight made me feel like a guinea pig. I didn’t say anything to him about it — well, I never say much anyways, but I worried about how long the next session would take.

“There is no telling how long the next session will take. From the data you have given me, I can infer that it was the initial turning point of your relationship. I assume when she received the summons to Canterlot? Am I correct? Nod, shake — yes, I’m correct. Now I must ask, have you experienced anything unusual about these memories other than slight altercations?”

Anything unusual? Tavi did seem more thoughtful about my feelings. I chalked that up to being in a relationship, which I’ve never experienced. Geez… being in a relationship of all things? That was certainly unusual, even if I saw it in an alternate reality.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t the sort of information Doctor Gonzo was looking for, so I shook my head.

“Right. Okay. If you do notice anything out of the ordinary in the coming reality, take a mental note of it. If a simple chest in your bedroom becomes a wardrobe, that is normal. However, patients before you have reported seeing things that do not look like they belong in their realities. These things will be obvious. Are you finished with your tea? Splendid! Let me see the cup — and your sunglasses, too, since you will be going back in. Vinyl Scratch, get ready to see your future!”

»»»

“It’s two bedrooms, but I think we will just need the one. The movers tore both of our mattresses while moving them onto the train, and I want to take this as an opportunity to get one that we can share. These floorboards are creaky. Do you think they’re creaky? No, they aren’t creaky —” (creak!) “— yes, they are creaky. I don’t like that color of stain. We should get them replaced. Wait, what are we going to do with the other bedroom?”

I nodded along, letting her know I was listening.

“You’re right, we could do that. What else can we do though?”

We found a nice house at 287 Hedwig Avenue, down in one of the moderately richer neighborhoods of Canterlot. Along with the big job, Tavi felt it was time to move up in the world. She found us a house that looked nice, with a pond in the backyard and everything. I didn’t argue, not even after I heard about how much we’d be splitting the mortgage every month. I was sure there were a few places in Canterlot that needed a DJ.

“Do you want to decide the interior design?” Tavi asked.

I shrugged.

“You’re right. I’ve seen your side of the old house. Your taste isn’t suitable for a homely environment.”

I took a silent offense to that.

“Right, right. I think the living room would look swell with lightwood flooring. How about the wallpaper? I’m not a big fan of the frieze design. You know, maybe we can put a few of your vinyl discs in the antique display. What do you think?”

“I —”

“Yes, I suppose you’re correct. They would look garish next to the plates. Oh, maybe we can store them in the attic!”

For several long minutes I listened to her, and a month later we moved in. Tavi gave the renovators very specific instructions to make the floorboards lightwood and for the walls to be whitewashed, in case she decided to make the design herself.

Tavi found a queen-sized mattress for the both of us at Woody’s Wooden Woolleg, a furniture store just down the street from us. There was some argument as to what kind of blanket we should get, which I won when I mentioned how I let her decide everything else.

I wanted a quilted blanket, both halves colors of our choices to match the couch. Then we realized the whole reason we were able to get the couch and its unique design in the first place was because we had the fabulous creativity of Rarity close to us. So, Tavia picked a frilly doublet that her grandma sent her when she had heard that we moved up here.

Tavia also lost interest in the couch, saying it didn’t clash well with the wall and that the brown wool one she spotted at Woody’s would be a great choice.

In one month, two weeks, and three days, we were fully moved in.

»»»

I found a DJ job at the Frisky Rabbit on the southern end of Canterlot. It was a nightclub that saw regular attention from the city’s top-grade drug abusers and megalomaniacs: the finest cocktail of trouble. It also saw performers of all races, particularly the ones willing to spin around a pole.

If the manager had been a stallion, he would have demanded I be a performer or not take me at all. Instead it was a mare, and Pennydreadful was more than happy to give my talent a shot.

Every Tuesday and Thursday plus weekends: come and see Vinyl Scratch play for a griffon in tight-fittings! This offer is only exclusive for anyone impotent enough to acknowledge that there is, in fact, music.

From six to eleven I would rack in three hundred bits per night. It was a seller’s bargain for a job that should have had me at the odd end of the pole. I could still do what I love and get paid well-enough for it.

»»»

May of that year, Tavi sat me down on the couch for a talk.

“So we’ve been together a while, correct?”

I nod my head.

“Since high school?”

Once again, I nod.

“And wouldn’t you say that our relationship since has been splendid?”

Amazing.

“Fantastic. And, well, here we are now in a nice house. I have this amazing job and you have one which you’re satisfied with. Here we are, living on the bridge of success. Our lives are seeming to collide into interesting places, and I want them to go further. I don’t want to just see the bridge, I want to see the castle on the other side!”

I nod along, letting her know I was listening.

“I want us to get married is what I’m trying to say. I know you won’t ask me yourself since you’re… so I thought I would ask. If you don’t want to do this, I completely understand and —”

“Sure,” I said.

Tavi blinked. “Well, I uh… I guess we should start plans for the wedding.”

»»»

After the ceremony, I spent most of the wedding behind the catering table. I don’t like being the center of attention unless it was behind a couple of turntables. Handing out the food provided some sweet placebo-relief, although it made helping the servers a bit difficult since everyone kept trying to congratulate me.

At twenty-two, Vinyl and I were married. Married and successful. We hosted the wedding in the backyard because it was special enough, and Tavi thought it’d be a good chance to show off the pond.

I got to meet her parents, who were less sophisticated than her but just as pleasing to see. “Oh my gosh, you have such beautiful eyes!” was the first thing her mom said to me. Tavi didn’t want me to wear my sunglasses when I went down the aisle even though I made it clear to her that I felt naked without them (don’t judge), but she said that it would only be for the ceremony. As soon as we kissed, I ran back inside and put them on.

“I just love how the red of your irises collide with your bowtie!” I had suggested we do a switcheroo, and Tavi would wear my old prom dress while I wore the tux and red bowtie. Tavi even let me wear one of hers! Although, wearing my old sequin dress was out of the question when she tried it on for one of the wedding planners and they imitated a barfing sound. Instead, she wore a black silk dress that did more to show off her assets than look pretty.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses at night? You should take them off. You look better without them!”

(A) They are special lenses, and (B) gosh her mom won’t shut up. I responded with a simple shrug and went back to stirring the punch.

“So what are your plans? What do you do for work? Do you plan on having kids?”

She looks at me for a moment.

I look back at her for a moment.

“I’m gay.” I say with a point of punctuality.

“Oh come now, you must at least be thinking about children?”

I shook my head shyly and quietly said, “I… haven’t thought about it.”

“Speak up dear, I can’t hear you.”

I was about to repeat myself in the same quiet tone when I heard someone scream. Turning my head toward the pond, I saw that someone had fallen in. It was hard to make out who because there were ponies everywhere, but it looked like a griffon splashing in the green water and laughing.

I think even my future self was confused, because I stared at it for a long moment to see if I could recognize her. She looked familiar, that was for sure. However, I couldn’t put my hooves on it.

Leaving the catering table and my mother-in-law, who cut off her chatter to stare at me dumbfoundedly, I walked over to the pond. Several ponies walked up to try and start a conversation with me. Nopony seemed to pay any attention to the unknown griffon infiltrating my backyard.

As I got closer, I could make it out better. It was a female, young and pretty.

“Can you get out, please?” I heard myself say, attempting and failing to speak up over the crowd and music.

The griffon ignored me and began swimming backwards. “Geronimo!” someone yelled.

A male griffon appeared next to me and jumped into the pond. The female griffon screamed as the surface of the water in front of her exploded in a white mass and resettled. The male griffon reemerged and wrapped his forelegs around her.

His head was facing away from me as he nuzzled his head beneath the chick’s. “When are we going to have kids?” she said.

“We can’t have kids when the college just sponsored our research grant, Rita.” the male said. He lifted his head, and I could make out the face of a young and handsome Doctor Gonzo. Wait —

“Excuse me, can you hear me?” I heard myself say again. The two birds ignored me.

“We should get out of this fountain and talk more about it. Ponies are staring.”

I was the only one staring. “What fountain?” I said. “You’re in a pond!”

“Vinyl, who are you talking to?” I turn around to see the beautiful Tavi herself, practically shimmering beneath the stars with her black silk dress and mane done-up in a fancy bun.

I gesture my hoof toward the pond, pointing toward the two griffons that were now locking beaks.

“Oh,” Tavia chuckled. “Okay. I figured the frogs would move in eventually.”

The what?

I looked back down at the pond, and the griffons seemed to vanish. In their place were two lily pads. A frog was sitting on one of them, giving me a blank look. Ribbet! it said and hopped to the next lillipad.

I blinked, and before I could respond Tavi took one of my left forehooves and dragged me toward the arbor where we exchanged our vows and ceremonial brooches.

“Excuse me! May I have everyone’s attention?” she yelled when we were in front of the arbor.

The chatter grew quiet and the band stopped playing. All eyes were now directed toward the two of us, and I was really glad to be wearing my sunglasses.

“I want to start by saying thank you to everypony who could make it this evening. I see a lot of familiar faces from Ponyville, and I know the trip was rough, considering the time delay with the train tracks being blocked by brimble. Nonetheless, I’m glad you all made it.

“I also want to thank everyone that brought gifts. Derpy, I’m looking at you in particular, thank you for the wonderful blender — even if it is a little on the tacky side….

“Now, speaking of gifts, there is a particular one I’d like to give to my wife tonight that I think deserves to be shared in front of all of you. It’s been stirring for about a month now and —”

Oh no.

“ — well, it's taken several doctor visits. With us both being mares, it hasn’t exactly been easy. But, well, I was provided with some frozen samples and have been visiting regularly to check on the results. I’m happy to announce that —”

“You’re pregnant!?” I hear myself scream.

Next Session »»» »»»

Session 4

I bow my head over the plate, slurping up the rest of the spaghetti. Doctor Gonzo brought me out of the machine after Tavi’s big reveal, saying I needed to eat something and that he never had a patient over for this long.

I wanted to go back into the Foresight Zone, but my stomach was growling. I went with him willingly to the dinner table and devoured my food almost as quickly as it was brought out.

I finished with a belch and blushed when I realized the griffon was staring at me. His plate remained untouched, although he finished the wine in his glass. Now he was just sitting there, staring blankly at… me? No, at nothing.

I held my hoof in front of my mouth and made a sound as if to clear my throat. Doctor Gonzo broke out of his trance and looked at me awkwardly. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was lost in thought.”

I gave him an understanding nod.

The air between us grew silent. Doctor Gonzo’s seemed to resettle back onto nothing, but they flicked and his pupils shot in my direction. Pointing to his beak, he said, “You might want to wash up. You have a bit of sauce on you.”

Embarrassed, I took the napkin from beneath my plate and wiped myself clean. I wasn’t sure where all I was dirty, so I did the best I could.

When I placed the pasta sauce-riddled napkin on my empty plate, it was Doctor Gonzo’s turn to clear his throat. “We are about to enter the final session. I’ll need to ask if you noticed anything peculiar in the previous one.”

I nod. “Who’s Rita?”

The griffon’s eyes widened. I guess I did recognize her. “How do you know that name?” he said.

I gave him an awkward shrug. “She appeared in the Zone.”

“And what was she doing?” Doctor Gonzo leaned in, invested with my every word.

“Swimming.”

“Swimming? Was there someone with her?”

I swallowed, not feeling comfortable with the twenty-one questions. But the more I answered, the happier he sounded. “Yeah, a younger griffon.”

“A younger griffon. Good! And what were they swimming in?”

I shrugged again. “A pond. Although, the younger griffon said it was a fountain.”

“Oh.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes wide. For several seconds, he stared at the ceiling above me, looking like he was trying to fight back tears. After almost a minute, he swallowed and looked down at the table. “Right. Fantastic. We’re really making progress.”

Silence fell between us. I didn’t know what to say — I don’t know how to say much, for that matter. It would be stupid of me to not guess that Rita was once someone he fell in love with, but why was she appearing in the Foresight Zone?

“You’re probably wondering why Rita appeared in the Foresight Zone?” he asked, looking back up at me.

I nod, letting him know that I was listening.

He said nothing for a moment. I could tell he was mulling over what was worth saying. After a placebo century passed, he opened his beak. “I think that we should start the next session.”

»»»

I was twenty-five, and it was nearing Euphonia’s fourth birthday.

I got a job as a baker down at Sugardrop Emporium. My old job as a DJ at the Frisky Rabbit was taken by someone younger and who probably got paid more, too. I still took freelance work, although Sugardrop (“It’s Sugarpop, Sugardrop is my dad.”) has been thinking of moving me into full-time, which would make cruising early nighttime streets a struggle.

Tavi and I never had to worry about leaving Euphonia at home in the evening because we hired a babysitter that was willing to work for long hours, so I still had some leeway into my passion.

I’ve been thinking about getting Ephonia a cassette player. I know: her ears are still underdeveloped for a high decibel audiated headphones. I’d have to get her the kind with the low-functioning speakers…

Geez, I’m running through these sessions like they were real. I’m really impressed with Doctor Gonzo’s work. Each event I somehow had the knowledge of everything going on in my alternate life, including the knowledge of what I was planning. In some ways, I think I’m beginning to confuse some of this reality with my own.

Realizing that tore something inside of me. I didn’t want to think of this reality as anything different — even if my DJ career was going wrong (hey it will pick up eventually). I want to recognize it as something present in my life. I want Tavi and I to be living together again. More importantly… what is more important?

“Mommy, I did it!”

I blinked, not realizing that I had been staring at a wall for almost two minutes. I look down at the kitchen table, my daughter next to me, to see that she had finished the twenty-five piece puzzle of a house that we started together.

“Wow sweety, good job!” I exclaim.

I guessed talking to my daughter was different than talking to anypony in general. Hey, the kid would never judge me. She is my kid after all… somewhat. She is a pegasus and has Tavi’s DNA (along with a gray coat and violet irises, but I take pride in her dark blue mane), but I still paid to help support her, and that was really all the legal binding I needed to say that she is mine.

“Can we start another one?”

“It’s time for your nap, sweetie.”

“Okay, mommy.”

I kneeled down so that she could clamber over my back, and together we went up stairs. After tucking her in and telling her to have a good sleep, I went back downstairs and threw myself on the couch, facedown, against the cushions.

I was tired. That much I could gather. I didn’t understand why. I’m happily married, have a kid, and a full-time job even if it’s not the job that I want. If anything, I should have been full of energy. So why am I taking a nap in the middle of the day at the same time as my three year old daughter?

I felt like there was information I didn’t have. Information that didn’t add up. Something about Tavia. Something about something she told me. And like that it clicked: “This was a long time coming.” A long time for what coming? The clock we kept just above the antique display ticked away as I thought about this.

»»» »»»

The front door opens, and Tavi walks in with two saddlebags full of groceries. She didn’t say anything, but I sat up, looking her way.

“D-do you need help putting those away?” I say. Geez, I still had anxiety problems in the future? I could very well hear the nervousness in my voice.

“No. Thank you,” she muttered sternly.

Okay. This is something else.

I lean back against the cushions, closing my eyes, body heavy. Even to the sound of Tavi putting away groceries in the kitchen, I tuned it out and drifted off to sleep as I listened to the sound of the clock tick-tick-ticking away.

“Where is our daughter?”

My eyes shot back open, and I was looking back at Tavi, who was giving me a stern glare.

Sluggishly, I say, “She’s at Dewdrop’s house.”

Wait, what? Why did I say that? Did I not remember that I just put her to bed?

“Right, and you didn’t confide with me before letting our daughter roam freely into the world? She’s only fifteen!”

Fifteen! What bizarre time jump was this? If she was fifteen that means I’m at least thirty-seven or thirty-eight right now. What a weird time to be thirty-nine!

Information flashed through my brain. Euphonia didn’t want Tavi to help her get ready for prom because she knew that Tavi would get overly detailed. At some point during the day, I had brought her into my room and showed her the dress I wore at mine. She was excited when she saw it and put it on, to my maternal delight.

“I just wanted her to have a good time at the prom,” I said.

“And you let her wear that dress of yours? It’s so… exposing. You cannot expect our daughter to come home on time wearing a dress like that!”

“She’s home now. Can we talk about this in the morning?”

Tavi huffed, her eyelids clenching. “Fine.” She managed to breathe out, as constipated that she looked. “Just help me with the rest of the groceries.”

I nod, not saying anything. I wasn’t sure if this time it was out of shyness or out of the knowledge that saying anything further might make her angrier. I get off the couch and follow her into the kitchen.

Euphonia was sitting at the table, her headphones off and set in front of her. Inwardly, I took a confused picture of the scene. There were no groceries insight, and there was daylight filtering in through the window even though I had previously said that it was late.

We sat down at the table opposite from our daughter, Tavi putting on a sterner glare than ever. “So where were you last night, missy?”

Euphonia’s brilliant violet eyes looked down at her headphones, clearly trying to avoid contact. “I was out with my friends.”

“Do their parents know that they were out late, as well?”

Euphonia perked her head back up, revealing some confidence. “Dewdrop’s dad knew that she was out!”

“And how about Inkheart’s? Did his father know that he was out?”

Euphonia’s confident face fell, some dread seeping through. She saved it at the last second by nodding quickly. “Yeah, I’m sure his dad knew.” I noticed a stutter in her voice and that she was shaking.

“Right. Splendid. Wonderful. So where did you and your friends go after the dance was over?”

“To the park.” Euphonia’s voice quivered.

“Okay, so why were you at Inkheart’s house?”

Euphonia blinked. It looked like the air she breathed just came back and kicked her in the throat. “I’m — sorry?”

“Why were you in Inkheart’s home? Were your friends there, too?”

She swallowed. “Um, yeah. Yeah, why?”

“Why?” Tavia tilted her head in mock confusion. “You just said you were at the park. Were you trying to imply that the park isn’t the only place you went?”

“Well, yeah, we went other places.”

“Okay, so did Dewdrop go home before or after you went to Inkeart’s house?”

Euphonia blinked. “After… why?”

“Well, the kind stallion dropped your headphones off this morning. You did leave them on his nightstand, afterall. He said something about last night being fun and that he wished Dewdrop could have made it. Which confuses me, because you say you went to the park as a group, but Dewdrop went home, and if Inkheart was at his home before all of you went, his father probably would have known. So tell me Euphonia: were you or were you not at the park last night?”

I sat there in silence, the heaviness of disappointment weighing against the back of my neck. Inwardly, I was looking on in shock. Outwardly, I felt my whole world crashing.

Euphonia looked back down at the table, her face growing red and trying to hide the tears swelling up in her eyes. Wow, she really is my daughter. Too afraid to show her emotions to someone, even if it means revealing them to someone important in her life. “No,” she choked.

Tavi breathed in through her nostrils. “And what were you doing at Inkheart’s house?”

“We…”

She stopped. The air felt still. I nodded letting her know that I was listening. When I realized Euphonia wasn’t blinking, however, I looked toward Tavia to see if she had something to say.

Tavia wasn’t blinking either. I could infer that she was angry, but to not want to comfort her own daughter on a pressing matter such as this? I leaned in toward Euphonia, ready to say something, I dunno, anything to comfort her. Then she opened her mouth.

She screamed. Not a tear-jerking, I’m-so-sorry-I-did-it scream, but a bloodcurdling, rip-your-intestines-out deathly cry.

I threw both hooves to my ears, wishing Tavi hadn’t thrown my old headset out. I looked to her for guidance. I had no control over a situation like this. I didn’t have the confidence to stop it, but she does.

“It’ll all be over soon,” she said. Or… he. A masculine voice came out of Tavi’s mouth.

“What?” I hear myself yell over the screaming.

“You need to push harder.” It was Doctor Gonzo’s voice. Doctor Gonzo’s voice was coming out of Tavi’s mouth. Considering I got to have a relationship with the love of my life, I can officially say that I had seen everything and a half.

My body was shaking all over. Her screams were like shards of broken glass screeching along a chalkboard.

“You have to push!”

I threw my forelegs around Tavi, shaking her. “Snap out of it!”

She turned to me, her brilliant purple eyes locking with mine behind my sunglasses. “Really, Vinyl, I expected you to act your age. If I had known you were going to be this way, I wouldn’t have bothered telling you myself.”

Wait, what?

My eyelids fluttered. The screaming had stopped, and I looked back to my daughter... she wasn’t there. Sitting on the table where her headphones should have been was a stack of papers. At the top of the first page, in big bold letters, were the words I least expected to see in the Foresight Zone.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” I hear myself say.

There were gray streaks running through Tavi’s hair. Few in number, but enough, along with some crows feet, for me to tell that she was nearing her fifties.

“Just sign the forms, and I’ll agree to split the property proceedings fifty-fifty.”

Information began to flash in my head. There we were, in the waiting room of the hospital waiting for our new granddaughter. There we were, two years later, visiting our daughter in her new apartment. There we were, some time afterward: arguing. One particular sentence from Tavi came to mind long before any of this happened:

“This was a long time coming.”

And she was right. Now fifty-two years old, working full-time at the Sugardrop Emporium (“It’s Sugarpop. Sugardrop died with my dad.”), and dusting off old vinyl records in my free time, I was also about to get divorced from the one pony I loved too much to see go away.

I wanted to scream to her. I wanted to yell something corny like, “No, I’ll never leave you!” This is the stuff I would have done if I were in control of my own body.

Instead, I nodded. Turning my head down toward the paperwork, I floated a quill out of an inkwell sitting next to the sheets and began signing.

»»» »»» »»» »»»

I moved into an apartment on 113 Freeside Street. It was good for its price — a whopping six hundred bits a month, not counting utilities.

Tavi did as she said she would and split the profits of the property fifty-fifty, so I had money to fall back on in case working at Sugarpop Emporium (“It’s Sugarpop Corner. At least, that’s what they changed the name to when the Cakes’ bought it.”) didn’t work out.

I got a new twin mattress to sleep in, although I spent the first few nights in the tub in case I ever felt like drowning. However, the water didn’t work for the first week, so I could only drown in depression. That was okay, though, because it meant I had something to keep my mind busy. Fighting the depression with depression to counteract the postmodern depression of being alive and not being able to be there for it.

The experience was surreal. Not only was I seeing what it was like to be middle-aged, but the experience was the exact feelings I had when I was alone — with a dash of existentialism. For the first time since entering the Foresight Zone, my reality had been forsaken by reality itself.

I came out of my apartment for the first time two weeks later, and only because I was out of food. I felt lousy, but I didn’t want to feel lousy on an empty stomach. I was thinking of frozen food tonight. Wait, was tonight tonight, or was tonight yesterday night? Damn, I was beginning to lose track of time here.

Sugarpop Corner (“It’s not Sugarpop Corner. It’s now discontinued!”) closed down, so I was out of work. Luckily, the profits I made off the divorce settlement were enough to keep me supported until I was able to cash in on social security.

I spent my free time reading whatever I could get my hooves on. Books, magazines, comics, vinyls — I had an entire room dedicated to everything I had read and listened to.

My life became the exact loop of what it became when Tavi left: spend a night in the tub, spend a night on the floor and eat all the food in the house because why not. Read a book, and get upset because I don’t read enough books. Listen to some music. Maybe that will help? Get sad because music makes me really emotional, and I get even sadder when I realize that all my hopes and dreams are now dead. Not even nostalgia from listening to the same mixes that I played in my prime gave me any hope because the very idea of nostalgia reminded me of a time that was better.

Then, one day while I was scrubbing the lightwood floors for the umpteenth time because why not, I heard a knock at the door. Tavi came to visit and to give some great news.

“Euphonia is getting married.”

“Hm?” I wasn’t quite sure if I heard that correctly. Well, I was, but I was not.

“Euphonia.” Tavi gave me an annoyed look. “Euphonia is getting married.”

My — I mean our… Tavi's own daughter was getting married. After getting pregnant at the age of sixteen, after being a single mother for the next ten years of her life, and after living in an apartment with no one but her daughter to keep herself company, our daughter was finally getting married. I wanted to feel excited, but for some reason I only had a pang of jealousy.

“Okay, cool,” I hear myself say.

She scowled. “You don’t have anything you want to say?”

I shrug. “I hope she’s happy.”

“She is. Very much so.”

The room grew silent. I had brought tea out for the both of us, and both cups were getting cold. I could tell that I hated Tavi for some reason. Only, I don’t hate her, but I did hate her, so how could I hate her?

At almost thirty years old, my daughter was finally getting married. At almost sixty years old, my daughter was getting married. At almost sixty years old, I was divorced. At almost sixty years old, here was the love of my life, and I hated her. At almost sixty years old —

“You could spiffy up the place a bit. Really, you’re almost sixty years old. You should know how to keep a place clean by now.”

Way to remind me of my age.

“Oh, come on, you have to say something!”

I had been staring at my tea the entire time. When she said that, I finally looked up at her. The air between us remained silent as all I had to give her was a simple shrug.

Tavi sighed. “You can spend an entire relationship without saying much of anything, but you can’t even spend three words to say, ‘I love you?’ Here, I’ll make this easier for you. Say, ‘Thank you, Tavi. I will make it to my technically daughter’s wedding.’”

“Okay, thanks Tavi. I will make it to your daughter’s wedding.”

Tavi gave me a frustrated sigh and got off the couch. “I’m leaving,” she said. I got up and followed her to the door. She didn’t even spare a glance in my direction as I held it open, and I didn’t even try sparing one back.

I thought I was about to close the door on her rear-end when instead I turned in toward the doorway and walked through. Instead of walking into the hall of my complex, I stepped onto an aisle.

It was a wedding, as I could tell from the frilly white banners hanging from the ceiling and the arbor ahead of me. The room was filled with ponies, all looking forward and watching the ceremony. Rather than seeing my daughter on the dias ahead, however, I saw myself.

I was wearing the tux I wore back at my and Tavi's ceremony. I still wore my signature sunglasses, but as I got closer I could see that I didn’t have a mouth.

I joined myself in front of everypony and looked back at the crowd. Instead of seeing a vast group of diverse ponies, all I saw was Tavi. Tavi was everywhere.

Turning back toward myself, I looked at my reflection against the sunglasses. Something was compelling me to remove them from my face. Enveloping them in my magic, I slowly slid them from the other me.

They were now floating next to my head, and I was staring at a blank slate — literally. I did not have a face. No eyes, no mouth, not even a nostril. Yet somehow, this twisted version of myself was piercing into my soul with an ominous stare.

I was horrified. Mystified. Electrified. This was everything I felt observing this, but physically I felt calm. But mostly tired. I was really tired.

“Mommy, I did it!”

I realized that I had been staring at the whitewashed walls of our kitchen this entire time. Looking down, I could see that my daughter had finished half a puzzle of a house. There were still more pieces scattered across the table, so I leaned in and said, “But there are other pieces still left, sweety.”

Euphonia shook her head. “It’s finished.”

I pointed to the scattered remnants. “Well, what about all these other pieces?” I say, picking one up with my magic and forcing the prong into a slot.

“It’s finished,” she said again.

I looked back up from the puzzle, ready to argue, when I saw that Euphonia was no longer there. Instead, it was me again with no mouth, but my sunglasses were back.

“It’s finished,” I said in Tavi's voice.

“But there are other pieces that are—” I looked back down at the table and it was gone. I was staring down at the lightwood floorboards of the house. “Gone.” I muttered. I lifted my head up and the other me was gone too. Along with the other half of the room.

I was in our old house back in Ponyville again. Well, her half of the old house. My half had been eaten by a black void of nonexistence.

“Good. You’re here. We can talk.”

Tavi was next to me, a beautiful sound emitting through her cello as she played it.

“Where are we?” I say.

“You’re in the Foresight Zone. Well, you’re a bit outside of the Foresight Zone. A small part of your mind is still lingering on me and is trying to co-exist with the reality you created. That’s why we’re here.”

I turn to her as she still plays with her instrument. “So you’re not the real Tavi?”

She shakes her head. “I’m afraid not. I’m simply a manifestation of something you must settle.”

“Huh,” I said simply. “So… here we are, I guess.”

Tavi nodded. “Indeed. We are here. But where are you?”

I blink. “Huh?”

“We are here. But where are you?”

“I don’t get what you’re saying. I’m right in front of you.”

Tavi shook her head. “Where are you?”

Confused, I look around the room, or Tavi’s half of it. I look down at the lightwood floors, and I look at the black void that had consumed my previous life.

“I don’t know.” I say. “Lost.”

“Why are you lost?”

I blink. I tried to pinpoint the exact reason. I was tired. Very tired. Most of all, I was disappointed.

“Because this isn’t the life I wanted with you.”

“What life did you want?”

I rub the back of my head, feeling gradually more uncomfortable as we went on. “The storybook kind, I guess.”

“And what did you think you would find in me?”

That question rang silence. What did I think I would find in Octavia other than happiness? The entire time she was gone, I had yearned for her to return. Some part of myself believed that if I thought hard enough, she would have magically appeared before me. Even if I did have the satisfaction of being with her, however, what then?

Would we go down this same road? It is an alternate reality, afterall. If she were back, could we dodge all the warning signs and make it work? Or would we be griefed to remain opposites our entire lives: her and her controlling attitude; me and my silent consent to follow along.

I realized that I had spent the latter portion of my life in the Foresight Zone hating Octavia for that. She had used my silence for her own gain, and eventually, she got bored of me. Especially when I finally caught onto what she was doing, and especially when I began connecting to our daughter more than her. That could even be the reason why I was so mad at Euphonia all this time: she was only a reminder of the mistakes I made when I was younger, and that she was also a product of Octavia herself.

We stood in that half of the room for minutes that could go on for hours. However, I knew exactly what had to be done now. I couldn’t spend my life lingering on the What Could Have Been. I didn’t need Octavia in my life to feel happy. I needed to find that happiness within myself.

So, I said the thing that made the most sense to me at that moment. “Goodbye.”

A smile wrinkled Octavia’s face, a single teardrop rolling down her cheek. “Goodbye, old friend.”

Walking to the edge of the floor, I let myself freefall into the darkness.

Epilogue

“That’s the thing about existing. You spend your entire life thinking you can’t do it alone, when that’s only what you’re told. You can spend your entire life thinking about someone but never say anything. Then when they’re gone, you feel betrayed because you think you never had the chance to say how you felt. You did. You had plenty of chances. You just didn’t think you were ready.

“And they’re gone and you’re sitting down one day and thinking. You’re thinking and you’re thinking and you realize you have been sitting in the same spot for twenty minutes doing nothing but think. And for some reason, you never realize that that’s why you’re depressed. You never say, you just think.

“So, you’re alone. You don’t have to be. You think you are, but you can always go out to a bar or meet the pony your mom is trying to hook you up with. And you have the nerve to say, ‘But that’s not the one I want to be with!’ But what is what you want versus what makes you happy?

“What I want is to be happy. Can I be happy and alone? Sure, I have that option. It’s just nice to share the experience with somepony… I’m sorry, I’m rambling on.”

I take a long sip from my tea, my chest feeling jittery yet brand new. I was tempted to turn my headphones up to rid myself of the awful ambience that would ensue, but I was trying to be a more confident pony now. In fact, why did I even have them on?

Setting my teacup back on its coaster, my horn glowed brightly as I slid the headphones off my head and placed them around my neck. Doctor Gonzo stared back at me, drawing a blank look. Dammit. I should have figured that I would disappoint him when I showed that all of his time and research only led me into coming to terms with myself.

He was pressed back in his chair, talon poised beneath his beak in thought as I relayed all of his information back to him. After a few more seconds, he leaned in over the table, setting his talon down in his lap. “I first conceived the idea for the Foresight Apparatus when Rita died.” he said.

I only sat there and listened.

“She was giving birth and well… she didn’t make it. I was in the worst state of depression that I had ever been in. Nothing but Rita was on my mind for what felt like a century. We worked well together and treated each other well.

“Before she died, we were working on a machine. We wanted to create a time travel device, but knew that that sort of technology wouldn’t come until well into the future. So instead, we came up with the basics of time travel. The schematics. We wanted to create a device that could foresee the future.

“Then she passed and, well, I was left to pick up whatever research we had on us. That’s when I conceived a new possibility: the idea of alternate realities. I didn’t want to just see Rita again; I wanted to know what our future would have been like together.”

He stopped. Bringing a talon up to his beak, he covered it. His eyes began to flow with water. I felt sorry for him, so I tried to show that I was invested with everything he had to say. “So you came up with the idea of alternate realities?” I added.

He nodded and sniffed. “Yes,” he choked. “Yes, that’s what I had in mind.” He looked down at the floor, obviously not willing to make eye contact with me. “I wanted to invent the basis for alternate realities. We already had the schematics for time travel worked out. I just had to pick up the pieces.

“You probably saw an old photo of Rita — the machine, not her — on the wall on your way through the house. That was the first prototype. Over twenty years ago. Two decades younger and over three decades old.”

I nod.

“You’re also probably wondering why Rita was showing up in the Foresight Zone. It was a simple glitch. Your reality had intercepted the reality of someone who previously used the machine.”

“You?”

He nodded. “I was my own guinea pig. I lied when I said other ponies tried it out. I wanted to give the impression that the machine works. When I wasn’t gathering the results that I wanted, I decided that I would need a test subject to decide where I was going wrong. Now I know why.”

He went silent, looking down at the table. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said the first thing that came to mind.

“You’ll find someone out there again.”

He looked back up to me. A smile stretched across his beak. “Thank you, Vinyl.”

~~~

I turn my headphones on full blast, the awful ambience of the room drowning itself out. Ponies — ponies everywhere. This is not something that I was excited for. When I saw the flier for the dating seminar, I had hoped it’d just be a small event with very few ponies, but this felt like a Summer Sun Celebration.

So there I was, standing in the middle of an avalanche only narrowly avoiding me, a name tag hanging from my neck. Holding a red plastic cup filled with beer (“It’s of the nonalcoholic variety!”) in magic, I waited next to the catering table for everything to be over.

Then I felt a nudge on my right shoulder and nearly spilled my drink. Turning, I saw a pretty looking unicorn mare with a mint-colored coat and similarly-colored mane with a white streak that reminded me to buy toothpaste. She was trying to say something, her voice like an echo in a styrofoam cave over my music.

Brushing one speaker behind my ear, I listened.

“I said, are you DJ Pon3?”

I nod.

She broke out into a smile. “Cool, I’ve always wanted to meet you!”

I nod again. “Sure,” I say. “And you are?”

“Lyra. Heartstring, but most ponies just call me Lyra.”

“It’s good to meet you,” I say. “I’m Vinyl Scratch, although you already know me as DJ Pon3. Feel free to call me whatever.”

We shook hooves and the chatter between us grew silent for a moment. “Hey, uh…” Well, here goes nothing. My heart fluttered as I forced myself to find the confidence to say what I was going to say. “Do you want to sit down?”

She smile. “Sure!”

We found an empty table on the other side of the room that was surprisingly at a comfortable spot away from the crowd. We sat down opposite of each other with drinks in front of us (of the nonalcoholic variety, too).

“Geez, the atmosphere in here is awful,” Lyra said.

I nod my head with a smile. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have come here if I knew the crowd would be like this.”

“Me neither. I’m not good with ponies.”

“Same here.”

“So what are you listening to?”

She pointed to the headset behind my horn. I nearly flush as I realize that the left speaker was still hanging over my ear. Sliding it off with my magic, I wrapped the headset around my neck. “Oh, just some death metal. You know, all that lovely stuff.”

Her face molded into one of joyful resignation. “You like death metal! What bands do you listen to?”

I shrug. “Whatever I can get my hooves on. Razorgrain and Cyanide, Mustard Jazz, Sax in the Bed, pretty much anything.”

“Have you heard of Neighponese Starlights?”

“Actually, I have their newest album, which I’ll be playing at a party for some rich filly tomorrow night.”

She gasped. “They’re the best! I saw them in concert when they first started touring and got to meet the lead singer.”

“And how did that go?”

She shrugged. “Turns out the forked tongue is only a prop.”

I nod along letting her know that I was listening, then I realized that the air had grown quiet between the two of us. Now all that was left was this awkward ambiance, which would have been even worse if I whipped my headset back over my ears and started blasting music again.

Thankfully, Lyra broke the silence for me. “Sorry, I’m not good at…” She made a back and forth gesture with her hoof, indicating that she was trying to point between the two of us. “This. I hope I haven’t made things awkward somehow.”

I shake my head, “No, no, look —-” I tried to think of something to say but couldn’t think. If now was a time to be confident, then I better grasp onto the opportunity before it was too late. “Look, I know how it feels to feel discluded while you’re being included. It happens to me all the time. In fact, you’re probably the first pony I’ve said this many words to in a long time.”

Lyra’s gaze shot up from the table and looked me in the eyes. My eyes. Or rather, the sunglasses over my eyes. I realized that they were a deflecting device that would probably shoo her away. I didn’t want to feel intimidating, so wrapping them up in magic, I plucked them off my face, folded them up, and set them on the table.

“So here’s what we’re going to do, I guess.” I rubbed the back of my head, feeling a bubble of anxiety pop in my stomach. “Let’s talk.”

THE END