Pocket Change

Chapter Music

Change

"Alright, pay close attention," I said as I began stitching a cut I had made in a piece of fabric in such a way that informed a pocket, explaining my steps as I did so.

Aria leaned in, inspecting my movements closely. After a while, she looked satisfied and turned her attention to her clothes. Picking up and thread and needle, she began stitching a pocket in a jacket of her own.

"Hey, that's pretty good. Just space make sure to space the pockets out more." I admitted.

Aria huffed before going back at it, sewing in a few more pockets, and holding the jacket up confidently. I couldn't help but feel a little impressed, maybe even proud, "There you go, not bad at all."

Aria continued to sew pockets in her articles of clothing as I sat there staring at the sky; my mind began drifting to Rarity. I couldn't believe that I actually had a job now, an honest one. There was a sudden tinge of guilt at the realization. Here I was teaching someone how to become a criminal, practically damning them to the same fate as myself.

I calmly spoke Aria's name as I looked up at the sky. "Aria..."

"What?"

I paused for a moment, articulating my response. "If I managed to find you some honest work with decent pay, would you take it?"

She looked at me with surprise and worry; I returned a look of tranquility.

"Uh, where's this coming from? Did I hit you too hard?" Aria questioned.

"Come on, just answer the question," I urged lightly.

She groaned, rolling her eyes before relenting. "I guess it depends. I absolutely refuse to work any retail jobs; been there, done that. I'll never go through it again."

"Like, all retail jobs?"

"All retail jobs."

I guess it was worth a shot.

"Now it's your turn to answer my question, why'd you ask something like that?" Aria asked, eyeing skeptically.

I shrugged. "Just wanted to see if this was a necessity. This career path isn't exactly the most...healthy." Aria titled her head and cocked an eyebrow.

"Let me elaborate. This is a job shrouded in danger: no one close to you can ever know, you have to lead a double life, you're under constant evasion of law enforcement, you're constantly under threat of being consumed by your own inner demons, and you never know when you'll rob the wrong person."

Aria stifled a laugh. "Like you did?" She said as she pointed a figure.

I chuckled a bit at this myself before taking on a more serious tone. "I'm serious though, is this something you really want?" I asked earnestly.

For a moment, I saw her resolve waver, but only for a moment.

"Yeah, I am," she responded, calmly returning to her sewing.

I didn't reply, not out of confusion or disappointment, but out of empathy. I was sure the feelings she's going through were similar to the feelings I went through when I was eleven. Though I was a child, I had to grow up and I make hard decisions most children shouldn't have to. Otherwise, my life would have gone to hell. Seriously, screw foster care. I'll take an absent mother over that crap any day.

Aria continued talking absentmindedly. "Things were never exactly easy for my sisters and me, it's only ever been us. The world hardly ever took us seriously unless we actively proved ourselves. Surviving was hard by ourselves. My older sister's an egomaniac and my younger one's a ditz, yet we managed to make it work so far. But that's all it is, survival. No matter how hard we work, we're hardly ever living. One can only be a roach for so long before they start to lose it."

Roaches were something I often compared myself to; opportunistic bottom feeders. Also, very abundant roommates.

"So, what's your story?" Aria asked with a tone of comradery.

My story...it's not often anyone asks about it, but it's always fresh on my mind. It keeps me motivated. I've only ever shared it with Trixie now that I think about it.

"Oh geez, where do I even start? Grew up poor and nomadic, the family settled down in an underdeveloped part of Canterlot. My dad was ex-military and my mother was more of a housewife. I was about eight when everything took a turn for the worst."

I fell from my sitting position to a laying one, something I often did when I got into my feelings.

"We started falling behind on bills, eviction notices started rolling in, and my parents were growing more irritable by the day. But one day...it all went away."

"Went away?" Aria said, sounding confused.

"All of a sudden our bills were magically taken care of, our quality of life had improved, and my parents were a lot happier. At least, that's how it looked from the outside. My old man...he started acting strange. He refused to tell us about his work. He was constantly jumpy, paranoid; he would scold me if I was up too late, would brush me off if I wanted to hang out with him. You know, he actually taught me how to fight based on his military training when he used to have time for me."

Aria couldn't help but laugh this time. "No way. You? Fight?"

I sat up. "It's true," I solemnly stated.

Aria's humor quickly faded into curiosity. "What happened next?"

I laid back down. "One night, I decided to sneak outside of the apartment through the fire escape and snuck into the family car. The left backdoor was broken, all you had to do was pull up and outward on the handle to unlock it. I snuck inside and laid across the floor of the backseat, clenching my magic rabbit plushie. God, I wish I didn't, but how could I resist the mystery. That night, my father drove through the city for hours, talking on the phone with some snobby rich dude. But it was all in vague terms that I couldn't understand at the time."

At this point, Aria had stopped sewing, leaning in a bit closer. "Eventually the car stopped, my dad got out, popped the trunk, and walked off. After a few minutes, I peered out of the windows to see that we had arrived at some high-profile neighborhood. The next thing I saw was some stubby rich guy storming out of a house, clenching his throat before collapsing on the front lawn. Then my dad walked out of the house, brandishing a crowbar. I saw everything. I witnessed my idol, my role model, my hero, murder someone in cold blood. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. I wanted to find any reason to believe that it wasn't real." I felt my face tense at the bitter memory.

"I returned to my hiding spot, scared out of my mind, crying and tightly hugging my stuffed animal. My father drove home in silence, eventually exiting the car and entering our apartment. I carefully returned to my room through the fire escape and cried myself to sleep. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of leaving my stuffed animal in the back seat. The next day, my dad found it, confronted me, flipped his lid, and stormed out of the house. Long story short, he was caught, tried, and found guilty of eight homicides. To the very end, he wouldn't reveal his employer, said it was to protect us. A few months later, he was found dead in his prison cell. That brings us here. I'm a two-bit thief, stealing to survive," I lamented.

"Woah, that's...heavy," Aria placated.

"Tell me about it, but at least things look like they're finally looking up. By the way, how are those pockets coming along? We've got another lesson planned."

Aria looked over all of her clothes and groaned.

Aria

I lugged a large duffle bag into the back seat of the tour van, breathing a sigh of relief. My sisters weren't home, so that was good. Probably at a restaurant based on all of the coupons strewn across the back of the van. I swept it all aside, tossed my hoodie off, and laid down.

Man, that sucked. Had I known this would have been so tedious, I never would have asked...no, that's a lie. I would have done anything to get out of this rut. Rut...

It seems like that guy, Change, is stuck in a similar situation, probably even worse. Normally, a siren wouldn't empathize with mortal races, but after being banished for thousands of years, it was hard not to. At least, empathy for fellow bottom feeders. Everyone else could screw right off. The poor weasel almost seemed destined for misfortune. That's something that wouldn't exist if we had succeeded in conquering the world... probably.

To witness a murder is one thing, but he was just a kid. To pour salt into the wound, his father was the killer. My father may have been an ass, but at least he wasn't a killer. That's gotta be rough.

"Look, Aria's back!" Sonata practically screamed.

I shot up in response, feeling a bit irritable. Why was she always so loud? The other backdoor opened, revealing my older sister, holding a bag stained with grease at the bottom.

She extended it out to me. "Here, we got this for you."

I took the bag in my right hand before opening it. Classic Diner's burger and fries, nice. " Thanks."

I moved a bit aside as my sisters filed into the back and formed a sort of triangle with me. I sat there eating while they kind of just talked about nothing. Somewhere along the line of monotony, Sonata was the one to bring up an important, yet sensitive topic.

"I'm tired of sleeping in a van," Sonata muttered.

Adagio groaned. "We've been over this, it won't be for much longer."

I stopped eating. "In mortal time or..."

My sister's face fell at this, becoming somewhat somber. "Soon."

She always does that, but I usually don't pursue the issue any further. Arguing with Adagio was definitely not a pleasant experience. She seems to think that being born a few hundred years earlier gives her authority over everything, so it's just not worth it. An awkward silence passed over all of us before Adagio spoke again.

"The next concert's in two days, be ready," Adagio instructed as she laid down facing away from the two of us.

I won't lie, I do enjoy performing for what it is. The rush of being on stage with my sisters and singing our hearts out is exhilarating. It never gets old, but it just doesn't pay well. With the music industry nowadays and competing bands, we've only been able to garner a small following. Why didn't we use our magic, you might ask? Well, we simply didn't have enough of it for the hypnosis to have any lasting effect. Of course, the real fans stayed: for either the music or for our personalities.

You would think Adagio was the most popular with her sex appeal and whatnot, but it was actually Sonata. The fans can't seem to stop talking about how cute she is. As for my fanbase...it's there, just significantly smaller than both of them. Although, I am the coolest across the board so I have that going for me.

I wonder when I'll be ready to start stealing. I may be an impatient person, but even I wouldn't jump into something so dangerous without being fully prepared.