Mezza Voce

Chapters

Motif
Phrase
Melody
Coda
Sonata

Motif

Light streamed into the room from a crack in the curtains, making the grey shades flanking the window almost white with the morning sun. Its gentle, gilded touch ran across a polished dresser of oak and the sole framed photograph which sat on it. In the photo, four earth ponies stood before a velvet curtain; two mares who wore pink bow ties and two stallions, each beside an instrument. A mare with a black mane stood in the center of the picture with a stoic look on her face, flanked by a brown stallion who wore a polite smile on his. To her right was another mare with a leg wrapped along her shoulder and a large grin on her blue muzzle. In the back, a purple stallion smiled shyly behind the energetic mare.

What the light did not touch, however, was the myriad of other pieces of furniture and mementos lying in a neat and methodical pattern around the room. Pictures of famous composers lined the walls, each as level and precise as a painting in a museum. But, the most noticeable item in the room was a large, black instrument case as tall as the average pony was long.

Occasionally, a whisper of morning wind would blow through the open window, rustling the curtains just enough to make them dance with it. Voices of ponies starting their day would carry on the wind’s breath, sighing over the gentle sound of breathing and the tick of a bedside clock. It was almost quarter past eight in the morning, and everything was calm.

A tangle of blankets lay in a heap on top of the bed, the grey mare from the picture sprawled out under them. Her strictly neat nature faced rebellion from her subconscious, causing the state of disarray as one flank lay exposed to the open air, a cutie mark of a treble clef glaring at the ceiling. Her mane was not exempt from her nightly tossing and turning either, as the normally neat waves of ebony lay askew like a dark halo smashed by a prism.

“Mmm...” the mare quietly mumbled, in the midst of a dream. She and her ensemble were standing upon the stage dressed in their best; ready to perform for the discriminating audience of upper class Manehatten. The lights of the Pegasus Theater blazed above them, making her squint as she tried to make out the audience of phantom ponies. Octavia always preferred an audience she could see, but alas, it was out of her control, so she focused on the sheet music in front of her.

As the instruments around her sprang to life, Octavia took up the bow in her hoof and gently played along with the rest. Any sounds from the outside world were instantly drowned out by the wonderful, soothing musical piece flowing around her like a gentle stream. Never had she heard her comrades in better form than that night, for they all knew this was their big chance to perform in a high-class venue after the infamous Grand Galloping Gala incident.

Thunderous applause filled her ears as the last note died in the midst of the gathered audience. A few of them stood, pounding their hooves upon the floor as others sat quietly and clapped along. Certainly, it was not a full standing ovation, but she bowed with her ensemble nonetheless, for it was better than she had expected at any rate. But then, to her utmost surprise, bundles of roses rained down upon the performers. One was almost in her grasp before the fire alarm suddenly went off, causing the crowd to flee.

Octavia mumbled, ripped from her dream as her clock decided to intervene at one of the worst possible moments. A grey hoof emerged from the bundle of blankets, tapping on the bedside table in a blind search. The feeling of cold metal upon her leg meant a swift end to the din soon after. With the clock silenced, the mare pulled herself up in bed to clear her eyes of sleep with the back of a hoof.

She surveyed her room to find nothing noticeably out of place, more a forced habit now than anything else. The last time something obvious had been done to her room, the party responsible learned never to mess with her stuff again, and the lesson seemed to have stuck. This time. She breathed a sigh of relief and rolled out of the bed, lightly thudding on the floor as her weight suddenly made contact.

Unlike other ponies, she was a thorough morning mare, although it took her a little bit of time to get going. Ignoring the taste of the brass doorknob in her mouth, the sleepy pony opened the door out into the hall. A glint of sunlight made her stop just before her hoof stepped on a, mostly, empty bottle of whiskey lying haphazardly upon the floor. Already, she could feel her blood pressure begin to rise from the carelessness of her roommate.

That oafish mare said she would pick up after herself! Octavia cursed under her breath as she picked up the bottle, knowing between then and the time she would finish her shower that she would have calmed down from the minor slight. The bottle clinked against another empty one left on the side table, making her sigh in annoyance. With a deep breath to calm down, the grey pony turned around and strode down the hall, past the vexing filly’s door.

Spent glow sticks, beaded necklaces from Mare de Gras and pictures of famous ponies in varying degrees of inebriation plastered her roommate’s door. She did not cast a second glance upon the portal into The Pit, as Octavia called it. She had long since learned not to be curious about what manner of pestilence or filth resided beyond the door, but if it was anything like how she kept the rest of the apartment, well... she shuddered at the mere thought.

Locking the bathroom door behind her, she sighed in relief as she saw no signs of damage or mess. A smile grew upon her face as she trotted over to the vanity mirror above the bathroom sink. Opening the cabinet door, she braced herself for the worst, but found her toothbrush untouched, the disposable cup sitting on top: not a hair out of place. Is this what my life has become? she thought solemnly as she started to brush her teeth, not a minor feat for an earth pony. Is it really a surprise to wake up and not find a random pony or mess in my bathroom? ...I am out of here once I start making enough bits. Similar thoughts occurred to Octavia at least once a week.

Happy with her smile for the morning, the mare trotted over towards the tub, finding herself slightly apprehensive that the curtains for the shower were drawn. Well, there goes the clean bathroom. Over the last year or so she had lived in the apartment, she had woken up to find all manner of things asleep or otherwise in the bathtub, almost like it were a second guest room. On one occasion, she had found a cow, of all people, asleep in it! Not that she was not welcome (she was quite polite), but considering that bovines were not known to fit through pony doors, it was quite the mystery to all involved as to how she had managed to get inside in the first place.

Pulling the curtains aside, she let go of a breath she did not know she was holding; the tub was completely empty! Maybe her roommate was finally learning that if an acquaintance of hers needed a place to sleep for the night, they could share her room? A blush quickly blossomed on Octavia’s face, making her quite forcefully banish the unclean thought from her mind.

Stepping inside, she stopped cold as she got a look at the drain of the tub. She should have been desensitized to such things by then, but the sight of it still made her skin crawl. Blocking off the drain was a tangled mess of hair, some white, but mostly two shades of blue that created a clog the likes of which she had never dreamt possible before. She gritted her teeth and tried to hold it back, but she failed and shouted at the top of her lungs. “Vinyl Scratch!!”

Octavia stormed out of the bathroom and back into the hall, letting each hoof fall with as much force as she could muster while seething with clenched teeth at Vinyl’s insensitivity. It took all of her restraint to stop from backing against her door and bucking it in to give the demented unicorn a piece of her mind (and possibly a hoof to the face). Instead, she knocked on her door with her front leg, being as loud and insistent as possible to make the undoubtedly hung over mare as miserable as she could.

“Vinyl! Open this door right now!” she screeched as she stomped her front hooves into the door repeatedly. “What have I told you about combing in the shower, you miscreant!? You are getting out here right now to clean up after yourself! Celestia be damned if I have to do it again! Be quick about it too: unlike some ponies here, I actually work during the day!”

A loud thud and clatter answered her indignant calls before the door itself swung open in a feild of magic, making the earth pony back up, lest she be hit by it. As usual, a white cloth was draped over the door on the other side to block the contents of her room from view, upon Octavia’s insistence. Within a second, the white unicorn stuck her head out from behind the curtain.

“Wuzzat, Tavi?” she yawned with eyes welded shut.

“I said that you should clean that damnable clog in the shower before I have to go to work. Also, I asked you to clean up the kitchen when you got home, but I can see from here that you did not do it!”

Vinyl blinked at her, magenta eyes blurry and unfocused, as if she were standing there passively. Octavia did a very slight double-take at the sight, since it was very rare to see the infamous ‘DJ P0N-3’ without her ‘trademarked’ magenta sunglasses on. “Sorry, but I got in kind of late last night. And drunk.” She smiled and rubbed the back of her head. “It was a ‘damned if I do, bucked if I don’t’ choice since I know I would have messed up and gotten yelled at anyway, so I just didn’t bother!”

The urge to slap her hoof upon Vinyl’s face was overwhelming. “How many times do I have to say trying and failing is better than doing buck all!?”

The unicorn’s face dropped in shock. “Octavia! You swore! I’m so shocked that I might just faint!” she gasped dramatically, bringing a hoof to her forehead mockingly. However, her roommate was not amused. Instead, she stood there, tapping her hoof expectantly while glaring at her in a mixture of anger and frustration as the disk jockey grinned awkwardly. “Right: shower. Check!” she conceded, shutting the door and curtain behind her with a glow of red magic before she trotted down to the door at the end of the hall.

Octavia sighed right after the bathroom door shut. Getting that pony to do anything other than play video games or her loud music was like trying to give a cat a bath. Then again, she is beyond saving, what with her insanity and all, she thought as she made her way towards the kitchen to get started on breakfast. All the while, she kept her ears focused on the bathroom to make sure it at least sounded like Vinyl was keeping her promise.

Satisfied by the soft murmur of cursing, Octavia brought her attention back on where she was going just as she almost tripped over a large bag. “For a mare who values her records so much, it’s a wonder why she just tosses the bag onto the floor where anypony could step on them,” she pondered quietly to herself. Then again, asking that question was like asking why Celestia and Luna let bad things happen to good ponies... like having her live with Vinyl for as long as she had.

Octavia sighed as she took stock of the kitchen situation. Pot and pans littered the sink like a chrome-plated forest. Various bags of snacks and unwashed glasses sat on the counter, some of them still harbouring a tiny puddle of orange juice from yesterday’s breakfast and beyond. Plates and bowls were haphazardly stacked on top of each other, a couple bearing food leftover from other meals past, creating a faint stench of decay and mildew.

However, even that was not the worst part of it all. What really disturbed Octavia most of all was the fact that none of this, not even the massive clog in the bathtub drain, surprised her anymore! A growing fear spread across her mind that one day she would wake to a mess in her own bedroom and even be nonchalant about it! She shuddered at the thought and decided to focus on cleaning the kitchen as best as she could. Before it was too late!

Moving aside some dishes into the sink to soak, the earth pony began to prepare a modest breakfast of cereal, toast and apple juice. However, the haze of sleep still clung to her mind, having been denied her refreshing morning shower: her equivalent to the gallons of coffee a certain unicorn guzzled like water.

The clock on the wall ticked with every second lost as the grey mare prepared her hasty breakfast as a constant reminder that she needed to be out the door and halfway across Canterlot in less than an hour. She had already spent more than her share of time dealing with Scratch and the various messes that she left behind, meaning that she would need to hurry with her shower and get out as soon as possible.

Octavia walked over to the table with her plate clenched in her teeth and growled at herself for neglecting to clean it off before her food was ready. She gently set her bowl and plate in one of the few clear spots on the table before grasping several different sections of newspaper within a front leg. Tactically throwing them squarely onto Vinyl’s seat, she let out a sigh of self-satisfaction before sitting down at her spot.

CRUNCH!

Her eyes shot wide open at the muffled sound of something breaking beneath her posterior. It almost sounded like glass and, for a split second, her mind entertained the embarrassing task of hobbling to the hospital to get shards of a vodka bottle extracted from her flank. However, there was no pain as the quick shot of adrenaline faded from her system. She took a chance and stood up to survey the damage, only to gasp in shock at what she found.

Lying upon the hard wooden surface was the broken remains of Vinyl Scratch’s favourite sunglasses. Magenta shards of glass glittered in the morning light, gleaming like frozen drops of rain. Well, at least it is just the lenses, Octavia thought as she gingerly picked up the broken shades with her hooves amongst the field of splintered glass.

“The frames seem to be fine, so it’s just a matter of replacing the glass,” she said as she turned them over to look, one end in either hoof.. “It’s not like she can’t get them fitted for new lenses or anything, since this has happened bef-”

“HEY TAVI!” A shout echoed like cannon fire through the apartment, startling the half-awake mare, disguising the sound of a crack between her hooves. “I fixed that clog for ya! Go and have that shower now, if you still want.” When she heard the slam of the door, Octavia looked down at what she held before her, and groaned in frustration. Not only were the lenses smashed to smithereens, but now the frames were bent beyond all hope of repair. Curse my earth pony strength! Ah well, she has at least two dozen other pairs of sunglasses, she rationalized. I am sure these were her favourites, but she can just replace them at the same Bit Store she bought them at.

“I just started. Give me a minute or two!” Octavia called back. Trotting over to the cupboard, she grabbed her dustpan and broom and swept up the remains of the glasses before she threw them unceremoniously into the garbage. Wait a moment, she paused as she looked at the calendar. It garbage collection day today, isn’t it? Without wasting a moment’s hesitation, she picked the bag out of the bin and tied it tightly before depositing the green bag down the garbage chute.

“At this rate, I am never going to get there on time!” The tidy mare bemoaned and trotted back over to the table. She hungrily wolfed down her breakfast since she did not like it when the cereal became soggy. All the while, her mind wandered to how her roommate would react to the loss of her favourite shades.

Knowing Vinyl, she’d probably get into a bit of a hissy fit about Octavia touching her stuff, despite the fact she left them on her chair, and probably not talk to her for a day or so, which the grey pony would have no problem with. Then, after telling her how it had happened, the disk jockey would recognize that they were, in fact, gaudy and tacky before forgiving her in her typical ‘all is forgiven’ hug: a hug Octavia nicknamed ‘The Bone Crusher.’ Either way, it was a small issue since Vinyl destroyed a lot of her things regardless!

With an idea of what to expect over the next couple of days from Vinyl, Octavia finished her breakfast, cleaned up after herself and trotted back into the bathroom for a quick shower. Stepping into the tub, she was relieved to find the offending clog had left no trace. She drew the curtains shut and turned on the water just as the sound of another door opened and shut, but she paid it no attention.

After a swift, yet thorough shower, Octavia stepped out of the bathroom with the steam cascading behind her as it met the cooler air. She ignored the flurry of activity coming from the living room and quietly stepped into her bedroom, hoping to delay the moment of truth as long as possible. However, in the middle of brushing her mane, she became disconcerted by the sound of squealing wood on wood and sighed. “I suppose it is time to face the music. Before she destroys the rest of the furniture.”

Coming out of her bedroom fully prepared for her day had not prepared her for what she was seeing. “VINYL!” She shouted over the grunts of frustration coming from the unicorn. “What in Celestia’s name are you DOING!?” The couch lay on its back, spilling pillows and cushions upon the floor. Drawers were open and their contents were strewn about like a hurricane had hit the apartment: a hurricane named Vinyl Scratch.

“I’m looking for my shades, Tavi!” she panted as she peeked inside a kitchen cabinet. “Can you please help me find them? I can’t be DJ P0N-3 without the shades! It completes the whole look!”

“What look? That you are a lunatic drunkard whose fashion sense is stuck in limbo between now and the eighties?” Octavia replied with a snap.

“Hey! I told you that I have a genetic predisposition to alcohol! Have I ever told you about my great-uncle Giuseppe?”

“About a hundred times; and as much as I appreciate a tale of a drunken pony saving themselves in the bush by sodomizing a lion, I don’t really CARE!” Naturally, after hearing about such ‘shenanigans,’ Octavia had made a mental note that she never EVER wanted to meet any members of her family.

“That’s great, but it still doesn’t help me find them,” she cried out, banging her head against the kitchen cabinet.

“I... might know what happened to them,” Octavia confessed, looking away from her as she spoke.

Vinyl was upon her faster than a Canterlot noble on a debutante of an influential family. There was a shadow of tears in her eyes, glimmering with hope. It was rare to see her so expressive, since she always kept her eyes hidden behind those irritating shades. “Really!?” she cried out desperately. “Please, tell me where they are!”

“Well... Keep in mind that it is all your fault since I did not see them until it was too late… and that I was not quite awake and paying attention… but… they’re in the garbage! I accidentally sat on them and they were beyond repair.” Vinyl’s face fell like a stack of bricks as soon as the word ‘garbage’ came out of the other pony’s mouth. It only fell further with every second after, twisting into an unseen torrent of agony and sorrow. Everything remained quiet as it slowly dawned upon the unicorn just what, exactly, had happened.

“You... you threw them out!?” she seethed in little more than a whisper, eyes widened as if she were just now seeing Octavia for the first time in her life. She backed away slowly from the earth pony until her rump hit the breakfast table. “How... How could you? I’d... I would never do something like... like throw out your bow, even if it WAS ruined! I... Octavia... You...” Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke.

Octavia found herself stymied by the spectacle in front of her. She had only known Vinyl Scratch to be smooth, even-tempered, collected and even mirthful in the face of sheer danger or civility. Yet here she was, standing in front of her with tears spilling from her eyes over the loss of a piece of eyewear. “Vinyl, I’m really sorry for throwing something of yours out,” she spoke softly. “I crossed a line but what is done is done. Is it really worth getting upset over though? I mean, they’re only sunglasses.”

“Only... They’re ONLY sunglasses!?” A look of greater hurt played across her face before becoming enveloped in sheer anger. “Wh-What do you know about ANYTHING, Octavia!? ONLY SUNGLASSES!? Is your bucking cello or double bass or whatever the HELL you call it JUST a... whatever in Tartarus it is!? NO! YOU would be pissed if I broke it, even by accident, so why can’t I feel the same for my shades!?”

“Uh... because they are not essential to your livelihood?” she took a stab in the dark, taking a subconscious step back from the raving mare. Only once had Octavia seen the DJ angry, but she had not been the target that time. Magenta eyes burned with fury as Vinyl bared her teeth, taking a wide stance in a way that intimidated Octavia, as if the unicorn were going to charge and try to gore her with her rather sharp, now that she thought about it, horn.

“Damn you, Octavia. Just, DAMN YOU!” the unicorn screeched as the door leading out of the apartment blazed in a glow of red while nearly flying off of its hinges. She bolted, out the door and down the stairs before her roommate could be afforded even a second to think. Sure, the cellist knew she would be upset, but this? She followed the crazed mare in hot pursuit.

“Vinyl!” she cried out as she ran down the stairs as fast as she dared. Her heart thumped in her chest as she tried to stop herself from falling and breaking her neck. Doors opened in front of her as curious and sleepy ponies emerged from their rooms to find the source of all the commotion, but she ignored them, passing as nothing more than blurs on the edge of her vision.

A sliver of blue whipped around the end of a flight of stairs, cementing her determination as Octavia knew she was, somehow, catching up to her. She tried calling out again, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Down another flight of stairs, she could make out the entirety of her two-tone blue tail and even half of her cutie mark before it disappeared from sight.

Having traveled up and down the stairs almost every day for over a year, Octavia could tell they were nearing the final bend and put in one last burst of speed. However, she had unfortunately forgotten that the one stair at the top was just a little taller than the others. Her heart fell out of her chest as her hoof slipped on the smooth wood, causing her to shriek in terror as she fell down the rest of the stairs. She tumbled down, expecting a sharp impact with the floor and maybe a broken bone or two.

Octavia barely had time to blink as she sailed over the top of the final flight of stairs and down to the floor that Vinyl had just reached. However, instead of hard wood, she impacted something far softer which squealed in shock from the sudden strike. As her eyes opened from the blink, Octavia found herself buried muzzle-first in a soft white coat.

“What are you doing!?” the white unicorn cried. “Get off!” Before she could object, the white mare flank-checked her, bouncing the other pony off with a surprising amount of force. As Octavia pushed herself up to resume the chase, she found the DJ standing still, facing a door to the side of the main entrance.

“What do you two think you are doing!?” shouted the voice of a mare standing in the doorway. A scowl played across her face as she regarded the troublemaker and her roommate, horn glimmering with blue magic. Her red mane lay tangled and messy on her head, bronze coat sticking out in patches, undoubtedly having been asleep just moments before. The most distinguishing feature about her, however, had to be her artificial front legs which gleamed silver. “Do you have any idea what time it is!? Explain yourselves. Now!”

“It’s none of your business, old mare!” the younger unicorn snapped.

“I-I’m sorry, Mrs. Pretty Penny,” Octavia quickly spoke for her. “I set her off when I accidentally broke her sunglasses this morning and then threw them out because there was no way they could be fixed!”

“Liar! You’ve always hated the DJ P0N-3 look! I would bet a thousand bits that you broke them on purpose!” Without warning, the mare exploded towards the door, only to be stopped cold by a blue barrier that had been conjured. “Let me out!” she shouted at the spellcasting land lady. “I have to go and save my shades!”

“Not after you’ve been so rude to me. If you were one of my foals, I’d have bucked your flank from here to Port Noble!” The landlady’s eyes remained focused on Vinyl’s, making the angry unicorn back down, but only a little bit. “You have to learn that other ponies live in this building and that they are entitled to their peace and qui-”

“Blah, blah, blah, I know, you miserable old mule,” she shot back. Before either of the more sensible mares could tell her to stop, the DJ pulled out a spent glowstick hidden under her mane and threw it at the other unicorn. Having broken her concentration by the tap to the horn, she sprinted out the door and into the street.

“Vinyl!” Octavia called. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Penny,” she apologized before she too ran out of the door after her wayward roommate. Looking both ways down the street to check, she saw the white unicorn giving chase to a cart filled with black plastic garbage bags and pleading the ponies pulling it to stop as she went. The grey mare ran after her, earth pony endurance allowing her to slowly catch up to the tiring unicorn.

“Please, STOP!” the DJ cried with uncharacteristic desperation. Yet, the ponies ahead either did not hear her, or did not care as the cart slowly lifted off the ground and took to the sky, taking with it her hopes of ever getting them back. She slid to a halt on the stone brick street, dazed as she followed the cart with her eyes before it vanished over the canopy of roofs and towers of Canterlot.

Octavia slowed to a trot when she saw her roommate stop and hunch over as soon as it became apparent that it was over. “Vinyl?” she spoke softly as she approached. “I am sorry I threw them out, but you would have agreed with me if you saw the state they were in. There are other pairs of shades, even if they aren’t quite the same. I think you’re making a big fuss over nothing.”

Out of all the sounds she expected to hear come from Vinyl Scratch, never in a million years would she have expected to hear the gentle sobs that caused her body to shake. Octavia’s jaw dropped despite herself. She had seen Vinyl angry, happy, intoxicated, passed out, and various states in between, but never had she seen her upset. “Are you okay?” she spoke softly and placed a hoof on her shoulder.

The DJ looked back at her, Magenta eyes puffy and reddened as tears streamed down her face. “D-Do I look okay to you, dipshit?” she cried, “G-get your filthy hoof off of me!” Octavia’s eyes widened as she forcefully had her hoof slapped off of the other mare’s shoulder. “You... you’ve ruined my life! They weren’t just shades you... YOU!”

The grey mare stepped back as Vinyl rounded on her, the tears continuing to flow from her eyes with anger and sorrow wrapped into one dangerous cocktail. “YOU DON’T EVEN CARE!” she screamed, drawing attention from other ponies on the street. “DON’T YOU PRETEND TO BE SORRY! THEY WERE JUST A PAIR OF STUPID SUNGLASSES TO YOU! I HATE YOU, OCTAVIA!” The DJ continued to close in on the cellist with seething eyes, making her back up in fright.

“I... I’m sorry, Vinyl! Really! If you had just told me they meant that much to you, I would have-”

“DON’T BUCKING LIE TO ME!!” Vinyl screamed with all of her might, making Octavia’s ears ring as if she had yelled through a loudspeaker. The offended unicorn wheeled around on the spot. Before the cellist could say or do anything, her vision was filled by white and the sensation of falling before her back hit the paved streets. The sounds of sobbing and galloping hooves filled the air, both slowly growing quiet as she lay stunned on the street with her face throbbing.

Octavia sat upright, head wheeling as it slowly dawned on her that she had just been bucked in the face. Ponies who had been watching the scene were coming forward to make sure that she was not in need of medical attention, probably. She pushed herself back onto her hooves and assured everypony that she was fine. It was Vinyl, however, that she was worried about, but the DJ was long gone.

Phrase

Silence: a once pristine haven abreast a sea of chaos and noise had, as of late, taken a far more foreboding and unnerving tone. It had been months since Octavia last had the apartment all to herself for such a stretch of time. But what was once a welcome fantasy served only to remind her of her foolish mistake. Yet, the silence did not care; it just hung in the air over her head like a vulture circling its prey.

Again, her borderline obsession (well, at least compared to her roommate) with cleanliness had caused a fiasco that she was responsible for. It was no wonder why Vinyl was so upset: she had thrown away a personal possession with reckless disregard for any possible value it had – sentimental or otherwise. If she could, she would have apologized in an instant, but the disk jockey’s absence prevented it.

Octavia mulled over the situation on the couch as the evening’s scheduled fog pressed against the glass. She swirled the wine she held in her hoof, then sipped it in order to stave off a creeping chill. She had kept the wine bottle in a cabinet hidden behind the trash can just to stop Vinyl from drinking it all. As a result, the wine was warm and the bottle smelled of refuse. Somehow, the scent and taste came together to paint a picture of her roommate lying in a ditch somewhere blind drunk.

Normally, she would not care what kind of… happenstance the unicorn got involved in, so long as she herself was left out of the picture or the aftermath. This time, however, she knew she was the catalyst for anything that might happen to her. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of being responsible for the most reckless, blasé and disgusting mare she ever knew. If she had the authority to assume, she imagined it would be almost as bad as being responsible for a war or the destruction of Manehattan.

How much of this dreary mood is the weather, and how much of it is guilt? Octavia mused as she took another light sip. It has been only a day and a half since Vinyl had her little temper tantrum. I can see her being upset for a few hours or so, but this? She sighed to herself as the memory played out in her head once more. Never had she seen such raw, unbridled emotion in the cool and unflappable unicorn.

Vinyl had always struck her as a private pony, despite her extremely forward attitude – more than once had she suggested they do some rather... lewd things together. Any time the subject of family or friends came up, she would list celebrities she had met and partied with and said they were like family to her. Of course, Octavia knew better, so she had never brought the issue up. However, her recent outburst gave her pause, so now she pondered the possibility that, perhaps, Vinyl Scratch was not close to anypony at all.

Could it be that the extroverted, loud and pretentious mare was actually a lonely, shy filly on the inside? Could she, Octavia Melody, be the closest thing that mare has known to a real friend!? The thought alone made her significantly more tolerable, but it also brought up far too many questions than she wanted to deal with and she did not want to hunt her down. Of course, Vinyl would get hungry and run out of money sooner or later and come back, so she could just wait for her. After all, it was none of Octavia’s business just what troubles the mare would find.

Still... she was a little worried about her because she was a mare in need. Not like she liked the rambunctious cretin or anything. Yet, she was not going to just stand by and watch as Vinyl destroyed herself while knowing full well she could have stopped it. However, she knew how stubborn that unicorn could be, so she would probably need more on her side than guilt and an earnest apology.

Perhaps a couple of those annoying ponies in the pictures on the door could be of some use? If she explained her plight to them, they might commiserate and assist in tracking Vinyl down and possibly serve as backup should the unicorn reject her. The only flaw in her plan, however, was that she knew none of their phone numbers. Vinyl kept her address book somewhere in her room, or as Octavia named it, “The Void”. It would be a venture fit for the Daring Do novels, but if she wanted the burden of guilt lifted, it needed to be done!

She sighed and gulped down the remainder of her wine. There was no point in delaying and losing her resolve once the fantasies of dirty laundry and half-eaten, moldy bagels bobbed to the surface. Oh great, there they are, she thought as the mere anticipation summoned them. Octavia forced herself off the couch with a groan, already dreading her decision. But, as her father would say: she had “made a choice and now she had to stay the course”.

The end of the hall came far sooner than she had expected, throwing her off just a little when she noticed the smiling faces of intoxicated ponies beaming at her from the pictures. Never before had she been inside, but she had managed to steal a peek once, and it was enough to make Vinyl put up that curtain on the inside of it. She stared down the door, as if her gaze would be enough to make it move, almost hoping it would so she would not have to actually touch it.

Swallowing trepidation, she slowly reached her hoof up to the door knob. Please be locked. Please be locked! she silently pleaded to Celestia. However, as her hoof touched the cold brass, she found that it gave way easily to the pressure put on it, clicking and swinging open a fraction of an inch. “Drat. Now I HAVE to follow through,” she moaned to herself. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open and cast the curtain aside. An audible gasp left her muzzle as she beheld the sight in front of her.

Boxes of records sat on a narrow shelf on the opposite wall, three boxes per level. The white carpeted floor was absolutely spotless, save a few stains that Octavia decided she’d rather not know about. A desk sat opposite of the end of the bed, littered with papers and the occasional wire here or there; messy but with a hint of organization to it. The grey mare stepped beyond the threshold, bracing herself as if there were some spell in place that would fail the instant she trespassed.

Yet everything stayed as it was, including the impeccably made bed. Looking at it closer, Octavia wished she could keep the sheets that crisp. She almost envied the unicorn before she reminded herself that Vinyl could use magic to get them that precise. “I must be losing my mind,” she spoke aloud to herself. “There is no way that she can be any sort of clean!” It took her a moment to regain herself, to which she laughed and said, “The shock of the mess must have sent me into delirium.” Satisfied with her own answer, she pushed on deeper into the unknown.

Since there was a phone sitting on the desk, it stood to reason that her address book had to be in one of the drawers. Curiously picking up one of the papers with her hooves, she could see numbers and several different peculiar shapes: a schematic for something box-shaped. Unable to read blueprints, Octavia had no idea what it was. Scrawling chicken scratch next to the neat typeface boasting that the device was “awesome” made it undeniable that the unicorn had somehow drawn them.

“What on Celestia’s green Earth is a ‘Bass Cannon’?” Octavia mused to herself before casting the blueprints aside. Whatever it was, it was of no consequence to her... at least she hoped so. Pulling out the drawers of the desk, she found herself confronted by a rat’s nest of wires, and other arcane electronic stuff she figured was used to repair her speakers or turntable. She probably stored them in a closet or something of the sort since she did not see them lying around.

Digging through the contents of the drawers, the mare found all manner of various electronic bits in one drawer and piles of drawings and other blueprints in the one below that. On the other side of the desk, there was a drawer filled with tools, including a blow torch. However, in the drawer below that, she found what had to be her goal: books, portfolios and other papers.

Starting from the top, she worked her way down the pile, finding books filled with mathematical equations that made her head spin, dirty magazines (Octavia made note to throw those out later), a Daring Do and, curiously, several books by Burning Jewels. But, it was a little black book at the very bottom of the pile that immediately grasped her attention and refused to let go. Carefully extracting it from the depths, she laid it flat upon a little area of the desk she had cleared and opened it.

Inside the book were the names, addresses and phone numbers of hundreds of ponies, all written out in the horrid scrawl that Vinyl passed as writing. However, there was a heavy use of symbolism beside each name. A very few had stars, others had ampersands, while others still had various combinations of other signs and some had none at all! Octavia’s mind immediately dwelt on a rating system of some kind: perhaps some were work contacts or possible employers?

It did not matter though: she had to try and find some names that she could recognize. Looking through the list, a few names popped up, most notably Pinkie Pie, an Element of Harmony! However, the entry that stood out first and foremost in her mind, as soon as she saw it, was one marked by a star, reading ‘Mom and Dad.’

The perfect opportunity presented itself to her! For one, she could figure out what made those stupid sunglasses mean so much to her in the first place and at the same time, she could receive her parents’ support in her aim to get Vinyl out of the liquor-laced gutter. Deciding not to waste any more time, she picked up the phone, double checked the number in the book and dialed.

She smiled with self-satisfaction as the phone rang on the other end. If all went according to her expectations, the whole matter could be cleared up before dinner! As soon as the thought came across, however, it was pushed out by the matter at hoof as a low, regal voice crooned over the line. “Hello. This is the residence of Lord Ebony Tune and Lady Ivory Song. How might I be of service?”

At first, she thought she had dialed the wrong number since there was no way Vinyl could be associated with such a powerful couple of nobles as Ebony and Ivory. Of course, there was the possibility that her parents were servants since, in her own experience, the hired hooves’ dormitories shared the same number as the house itself. “Uh, yes,” she replied, remembering there was a pony on the line. “I am looking for the parents of one Vinyl Scratch. I am afraid it is a matter of some urgency, so it would be most appreciated if you could get them right away.”

“I am sorry,” the stallion replied, “but Lord Ebony and Lady Ivory are currently on a trip around the world on their yacht and are not due back for some months. Will the matter still be of urgency then?”

“Um... no,” she replied, wondering just how daft the pony could be. “I am not looking to speak with their lordships. I am looking to converse with the parents of a mare named VINYL SCRATCH,” she enunciated clearly since the stallion did not seem to understand. “She’s a disk jockey living with me in an apartment in Canterlot.” There was silence on the line for a couple of tense moments, the noble mare hoping the servant finally understood.

“I apologize, but am I speaking to Lady Octavia?”

“Yes, you are,” she replied after taking a moment to reel herself back from the identification.

“It makes sense that you would not know. Miss Vinyl is not very comfortable having ponies aware of her parentage since she does not like the aristocracy in general. Rest assured though that Lord Ebony and Lady Ivory are her birth parents. I would like to go into more detail, but I am being called to attend to a matter. I am sorry that I could be of no help, but I will contact them as soon as possible. What is it that you wanted to ask?”

“Oh, well... By the time they get back, it will... hopefully be resolved, so no. I am afraid that I have nothing to say,” she answered automatically as something inside her brain broke.

“Very well then, have a good evening, milady.”

“Good evening.”

With that, there was a flat tone on the line as the stallion hung up. It had to be a prank or some sort of joke that had been set up by Vinyl in case Octavia called the number. She would not put it beyond her to try and convince the butler to play along with her mean little prank. But on the other hoof, proper butlers (she assumed, since it was custom that only the butler would answer the house phone) did not bend to that sort of whim.

Even if he is telling the truth, it does not change a thing now does it? Octavia thought to herself as she hung up the receiver. I can’t talk to her parents because they are away, so regardless, they can not help me. So, who do I turn to now? She turned her attention back towards the address book lying on the desk in front of her. There had to be a clue to tell which ponies Vinyl actually cared about.

Noticing how few ponies had a star beside their numbers (of which her parents were among), the grey pony decided that she would work her way down the list and gather either information she would need or their support in her search. Turning back to the first page, she flipped through the little black book until she came across the first name bearing the rare star. “Berry Punch?” Octavia mused as she read the name aloud. She had heard it before, but she could not quite put her hoof on where.

Regardless of whether she knew of the pony or not, they were still possibly a friend or relative of Vinyl, so it was good enough for her. Looking down at her number and address, she saw that the mysterious mare was a resident of Ponyville, which cemented in her mind that they had not met before. Therefore, it was likely she had heard of her via the absent unicorn, either during one of her drunken appraisals of a party or show, or at some other point where Octavia decided to ignore her but she kept talking.

She picked up the receiver once more and dialed the number in the book, hoping her assumption was correct and that she had not accidentally called a rival or (another) annoyance. Seventeen rings had sounded on the other line and just as she was about to hang up to try again the next morning, a droning, yet still feminine voice responded on the other end. “Y’ello?” the mare groaned, as if she were ill.

“Good evening. Am I speaking to a miss Berry Punch?” Octavia asked.

“This is her speaking, what can I DO you for?” The mare slurred.

“... Charming. Do you know a pony by the name of Vinyl Scratch? If so, how would you gauge your relationship with her?”

“Vinyl?” the other mare replied, perking up in the tone of her voice. “We’re the best of drinking buddies anypony could find! Heck, once she managed to drink me under the table!” A soft peal of giggling shot out of the ear piece as she probably regarded the no doubt hazy memory. “Can I ask why you’re calling? Although maybe I should ask who you are first? I get that mixed up a lot”

“I bet you do… um. My name is Octavia Melody and I am her present roommate. I am calling because...” she swallowed, bracing herself for the proverbial impact. “Because I accidentally destroyed her sunglasses and then, foolishly I might add, threw them out. I was wondering if you could tell me why they are so important to her, or help me find her so that I can properly apologize.”

“No way...” Berry spoke, sounding awestruck. “You broke her SHADES!? Man, that’s like kicking a stallion where the sun don’t shine to Vee.”

“Mama? Can I have my bedtime story now?” spoke a filly on the other end of the line.

“Listen, I have to go now,” Berry spoke after. “If you want to know why those sunglasses mean so much to her, why don’t you come down to Ponyville and have a drink with me? Actually… I can invite the whole gang down! It’ll be great since we haven’t seen all of each other in a month or so! Oh this will be fantastic!”

Panic began to shoot through her system at the possibility of being surrounded by hoodlums. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea! I mean, I doubt they can all drop everything and I was hoping for something a little more intimate than a crowd of strangers!” Octavia said rather quickly.

“Oh-la-la. No wonder why Vinyl likes you,” Berry replied in a tone that made the respectable mare a little uncomfortable. “There are only five of us. You have Vinyl’s number book, right? We’re all with those little stars and only one is a stallion and only one mare is a Fillyfooler and she’s spoken for, so you have no worries, Octy! I think we’re all off and can come by, like, three in the afternoon, day after tomorrow? I’ll meet you at the train station in Ponyville. See you then!”

“Wait a moment, who said I was coming down to Ponyville to meet with-” However, before she could finish her sentence, there was a dead tone. She had hung up on her, and quite rudely at that. “Congratulations, Octavia. The day after tomorrow you are meeting with five of Vinyl’s friends ALL AT ONCE in a dinky little whistle stop town!” Rather than be aggravated further, Octavia took a deep breath and decided to not worry about it. If they were Vinyl’s friends, they probably would not risk her ire by upsetting her roommate. Maybe.

She took another breath and picked up the address book in her teeth. All of the was stressing her out and she only knew one way to really relax. As she walked out of the room and over to her waiting Cello, she reminded herself that while Vinyl could sometimes be foalish, she could take care of herself and probably would not associate with ponies as bad as she imagined. Hopefully.

~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~

Her mind had been wandering all day. That is to say, her mind had been running around the same problem all day and it was becoming most tiresome. Even her playing was beginning to suffer because of the conundrum eating away at the back of her mind. She hoped none of her ensemble had noticed.

Octavia walked down the street at a rather slow clip as she had to balance her instrument upon her back. It was not an easy task, especially when said instrument was roughly the size of her body, but at least it was not as awkward as her friend’s instrument. Beside her, stumbling occasionally on the cobblestones was a sky blue mare with a brown, curly mane and tail who wore a pink bowtie very similar to her own. She did not really pay attention to her, since she was always a little accident prone; however, as they passed their favourite cafe, something unexpected happened.

“Say... Octavia? Do you think there is something bothering Frederick?” The mare paused in mid-step, looking back at her friend with widened eyes. While it was a rare pleasure to hear the sousaphonist talk, it was quite something else for her to start a conversation. She was the obverse of Vinyl Scratch, when she really thought about it.

“No, I never noticed anything amiss with him. Why do you ask, Beauty Brass?” she replied, blinking as she caught up.

“No reason. It’s just that he was a little overbearing and more of a perfectionist than usual. Is there... something going on between you two?”

“What!?” Octavia gasped incredulously. She could feel a blush developing on her face, not for having been found out, but for such a wild accusation that was in no possible way true. Frederick was her friend, and no matter how dashing or courteous he was, that is what he would remain. However, a smile was beginning to form on her friend’s face. She needed to stomp out this rumour before her inaction validated anything!

Clearing her throat, she did her best to regain her poise and composure. “What makes you say that, I wonder?”

“Oh... Well...” she looked away and blushed. They continued walking in awkward silence as the question hung in the air like the Sword of Damocles over both of their heads. Moments like this made Octavia really frustrated that Beauty’s parents had been strong subscribers to the notion that foals were to be seen and not heard, for it was only making things more difficult than they needed to be.

“I uh...” she muttered after some minutes. “I noticed that you were... a little off with your playing today, Octavia. I mean, you were late for your cue on that coda five times in a row and you never normally make mistakes like that. Plus, Frederick was just as off as you today, I kind of thought something may have happened between you two and I apologize if I was just reading into something too deeply.”

“Well, you were reading too deep into things, but I accept your apology.” Having hopefully satisfied her curiosity, the two mares continued on their walking route home. Both were content to keep the silence, or so Octavia thought. As they neared their neighbourhood, Beauty Brass found her voice once more.

“So... If it isn’t Frederick, what has got you so distracted, Octavia? If you don’t wish to tell me, then... that is fine.”

That’s the second time she’s started a conversation, the other mare mused. Whatever it is must really be eating at her... Just like how that insipid Vinyl Scratch continues to gnaw at my mind like a woodchuck on wood. She sighed and decided that, perhaps it was best to get her feelings off of her chest to the one mare she felt comfortable confiding in.

“You recall that I have a roommate by the name of Vinyl Scratch, correct?”

“Mhm! You complain about her often enough that I should, anyway.”

“Yes, well...” Octavia trailed. “Um... Yesterday, I will admit that I did something quite careless. You see, she had left the apartment in a mess again and I was running late for rehearsal when I accidently broke something that was actually far more valuable to her than I had anticipated. I then had the brilliant idea to throw it in the garbage and when she found out she... Well... It was not very pleasant, let us leave it at that.”

“Oh... So that explains that black eye!” Beauty gasped in realization.

“Unfortunately,” she replied, turning her head away ever so slightly.

“You really should tell someone. I mean, it’s not a good thing when your roommate starts to physically abuse you! I think there’s a hotline for that.” She lifted her head to the sky, eyes losing focus as she tried to remember something, probably the number, which eluded her.

“What? No... No, it’s nothing like that, Beauty Brass. It’s just that I have not seen her since and... Well, I feel a little guilty for being so tactless. I’ve tried calling a couple of her friends, but... well... one of them wishes for me to go to Ponyville and meet all of them tomorrow so we can sort this out quickly. But…they seem… less than reliable, I would say.”

“What do you mean by ‘less than reliable’?”

“You know what kind of pony Vinyl Scratch is. They could all be alcoholics or drug addicts or something! The one pony who suggested this was slurring quite a bit last night, if that is any indication! I want to get my facts straight before I hunt that rambunctious mare down, but I don’t feel comfortable going and they want me there tomorrow afternoon!” She grumbled and applied a hoof to her face. “What am I going to do, Beauty?”

“Huh,” Beauty Brass mused as they turned a corner and walked down another street. “Well… I could go with you, Octavia. Going alone sounds dangerous and, if we need to, I… I know SOME self-defence; father’s idea and all.” She looked away from her friend and blushed as she spoke.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to interrupt any plans you might have, Beauty,” Octavia replied, genuinely afraid of inconveniencing one of her oldest friends. “Besides, I know how you are with strangers and I would not want to put you through any discomfort either.”

“Well…:” the sousaphonist started as they crossed a street, “It is a little bit of both but… well… I just want to make sure that you are safe and comfortable. I mean, I doubt that your roomate is friends with really bad or shady ponies, but… if it will help you make amends, which you seem like you really want to do… then I will be there for you.”

Octavia was surprised to hear all of this. She and Beauty Brass had been friends for years but never before had she stepped up to the plate and offered to do something, even if she did not want to, just for the sake of making her comfortable. That was not to say that she was a bad friend, but that she was very shy and out of her element when not among family or her close friends.

“Are… Are you quite sure, Beauty? They could be a rather loud and rambunctious lot, considering they are close to Vinyl.”

For her part, Beauty Brass took a deep, sighing breath and looked down at the pavement as they continued their journey home together. It was obvious to Octavia that the idea of going with her was one that she regretted bringing up, but the fact that she did not instantly accept her proclamations that she would be fine on her own? Though it was a quiet voice who spoke, the volume of what she was saying was loud and clear to the cellist: she wanted her to be safe above all else.

Finally, Beauty looked up from the pavement and into her eyes, gilded irises not even flinching when she spoke, “I’m sure, Octavia. I am going with you to Ponyville.” A high pitched squeak was the next thing to come out of her mouth as, all of a sudden, her friend wrapped her into a gentle and genuine hug.

“Thank you, Beauty Brass. It means a lot to me to hear that from you… From a friend I trust and whom trusts me in return.”

“N-not a problem, Octavia,” she replied, patting her gently on the back with her hoof. “Um… When are you leaving for Ponyville? I can meet you at the train station.”

“Oh, not until about two in the afternoon. That is when the drunk one said most of them get off work. I… hope that’s not too big of an inconvenience.”

“Nope!” her friend cheerfully replied. “See you then, Octavia.” With a smile and a wave of her hoof, Beauty Brass was on her way, down another road to her own apartment, leaving Octavia alone once again.

After a long and quiet walk through the streets of Canterlot, the grey cellist finally came to the threshold of the apartment door. With a subtle tap on the wooden edifice and a rather loud show of putting the keys into the locks, she opened the door and carefully stepped inside. “Vinyl?” she called out in vain hope her roomate had returned to play one of her video games or something.

Yet, there was no answer. Not even a creek of wood to give away her hiding. With a heaving sigh, Octavia wiggled out of her strap and mounted her cello upon the wall near the door. On the other end of the room, a blinking light caught her attention. It was their answering machine and there was a message on it. Was it Vinyl? Was she in trouble or something and needed bail money? All at once, she became overcome by worry and anxiety.

Pushing them aside, she trotted across the room and over to the phone to which the answering machine was beside. The display read one single unanswered phone call. With a press of her hoof there was a beep and a magical voice which said, “You have one message. Received at 10:36 am today.”

“Hello, Octavia,” spoke a very familiar voice. “This is Frederick. I uh… have a bit of news. I didn’t want to tell anypony about it during practice, because then we’d all get nervous and not play properly but.. well… we’ve got it! That’s right, the Manehattan Theatre wants us to perform as a warmup act for the Equestrian Symphony Orchestra in a few days! Travel and hotel expenses paid too! It’s going to be great! But… there is one thing. It’s happening four days from now, so they need our yea or neigh really quickly. Please get back to me as soon as you can. Talk to you later!”

Unbridled joy swept over Octavia like the tide over a sandy beach. This was going to be the opportunity of a lifetime! If this show went well, the disaster at the Gala would become a distant memory. Heck, maybe the symphony would be so impressed by her that they might ask her to join them! But just as fantasies of her being in the most prestigious orchestra in the nation came to her mind, so too did that stupid unicorn. What would she do if she came back to find nopony around? What if, by not being there, she just made her hurt friend even more upset? Vinyl could be gone for days at a time, but never more than five without notice.

Would she have to choose between performing in Manehattan… and Vinyl?

~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~

Outside the window, the overcast sky cast a pall of grey blandness that made the similarly coloured mare sleepy just looking at it. Vibrant green plants and the purple mountain of home alike were rendered lifeless husks under the gloom. At least in Canterlot they were usually above such blaise weather.

The train’s seat cushions were springy and uncomfortable, with the slightest bump in the tracks causing her pain as the springs poked into her flank. Everything in the car was either simple wooden paneling, or signs advertising different products amidst a sea of identical bench chairs. But worst of all was the music! The most mindless, soulless pop music imaginable practically blared over the loudspeaker, interrupted only by the conductor announcing stops or his rounds to check tickets.

“How can you be so chipper!?” Octavia demanded as she cast her gaze to the friend who sat beside her.

“Hmm?” Beauty Brass said, snapping out of a mild trance. “I’m sorry. I must have zoned out,” she giggled. “What was the question again?”

“Ugh. Nevermind,” the cellist groaned, applying a forehoof to her head in exasperation. “It’s just that you seem to be taking this so well. I’ve never had a more unpleasant experience with the trains! It figures that they’d put the bad ones with no privacy heading towards a town where everypony probably showers together! It figures that friends of Vinyl Scratch would live in Ponyville: they’re all probably related! Ugh! I hate the boondocks!”

“You sound like an elitist snot, Octavia.” Beauty gave it a little more thought. “Also, everypony can hear you being one.” Sure enough, when Octavia looked about the car, a lot of eyes were on her, most offended, but a couple amused. She blushed, then lowered her voice, wishing she could hide her face behind her hooves without looking like a foal.

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous. Celestia knows that I am grateful for you to be here, and I meant no offence. I just…I want to get this over with as soon as possible, but that is no excuse for being rude. Forgive me?”

A leg wrapped around her shoulders and pulled the grey mare into a gentle hug. “I forgive you,” Beauty said with a smile. “I know it’s hard for fancy nobles like you to travel with the common masses, but it’s not like we all smell. Just the odd ones who come out at night and wear bags for hats.”

Blushing even worse, Octavia pulled away once the hug was finished. “I’m not that noble. You know that.”

“But you are more privileged than most.”

“I can’t deny that,” she said softly with her eyes turning downcast to the floor. Since she had moved in with the DJ, moments like that, or rather “snotty moments” as Vinyl called them, had happened with less frequency over time. I suppose living with a more common pony does more for me than just make my life dirtier, she mused, successfully distracting herself from the petty annoyances of the train

“Hey, Octavia?” Beauty nudged her shoulder to gain her attention. “Octavia? We’re almost there!”

“Hmm?” she mumbled before looking up at her friend with mild annoyance at being prodded so forcefully.

“I said we’re pulling into the station now, Octavia. Let’s go!”

Sure enough, as soon as the words left her mouth, Octavia could feel the train grinding to a halt among a sea of thatched roof houses just outside the windows. “You do not need to tell me twice, Beauty,” she replied while standing up. “Let’s get this madness over with. Once and for all.”

As they stepped off the train and on to the platform, the two city mares found a quiet platform with a laid-back trainspotter sitting on the bench. The grey mare mused that this was what one would expect from a little town in the middle of nowhere. At least, it felt like the middle of nowhere, since Canterlot Castle itself was prominently visible from the train platform. It was amazing to Octavia that a place as … quaint, for want of a less offensive word, as this could exist so close to the cultural heart of the nation.

“So, do you have any idea what this pony looks like?” Beauty questioned after a moment of silence between them. That was when the bottom fell out of Octavia’s stomach. The pony had never told her what she looked like, or even asked how she could identify her! Would they have to go around this... town... questioning ponies!? Thankfully, the conundrum would quickly be resolved by an unexpected shout.

“Ahoy there!” called a lavender mare climbing up onto the platform. Her mane was a deeper shade of purple and relatively unkempt. When she drew closer, she sported a cutie mark of a strawberry and a grapevine. The mare’s smile was eerily similar to Vinyl’s. “My name is Berry Punch, and I take it one of you is Octavia?”

“Er.. Yes. That is me,” Octavia confessed, nervous about how close she was now getting to her face.

“Well, welcome to Ponyville! Any friend of Vinyl is a friend of mine. Who’s your buddy?”

“This is my friend, Beauty Brass, and she is rather timid around strangers. Also, I am not Viny-”

“A pleasure to meet you too,” she smiled, interrupting the cellist. “You’re a little early, but that’s okay. I told my friends where to meet us, so we can go straight there. Please, follow me!” Without allowing them even a word of protest, she cantered off. Octavia shuddered a little bit at being called a friend of Vinyl. They were roommates and nothing more. Still, she had to follow because she needed answers, and Celestia help her if she was responsible for the insane DJ

“So… Uh… Miss Punch?”

“Berry please, and yes?”

“What is it that you do for a living which allows you the time to greet us at the station so early in the afternoon?” she asked. That and I wonder if you have a criminal record as well, but that remains to be seen, she thought to herself.

“Oh, my family owns a winery not too far outside of town,” Berry replied.

I figured. She must get drunk off her own swill. Octavia pasted on a fake smile when she realized that Berry was not done talking.

“Apples, wine, and other crops are this town’s main export you see. Heck, next to the Apples, my family are the biggest landowners in town! We sell all kinds of wine and spirits from bargain brands all the way up to some of the best in the country. Well, good enough for Princess Celestia’s private stores anyway.”

She arched an eyebrow at that. Maybe this local was not a total bumpkin, but selling wine to the princess would not get one very far back in Canterlot. The purple mare continued to chat about the town as they walked, but living with Vinyl had helped Octavia perfect the art of ignoring drivel. Curiously, Beauty Brass seemed quite keen to listen. The cellist decided to look at the scenery instead.

All the buildings were done in approximately the same century-old style of stucco and thatched roofs. And although most of the streets were at least paved (even if it was cheap cobblestone) there were still sections of dirt here or there where the road was broken or incomplete. But that did not really matter since the roads were practically barren despite them moving through the center of town.

“Are we almost there?” Octavia asked impatiently.

“Oh, yes we are. Sorry. I sort of ramble sometimes,” she smiled as she spoke. However, there was a little tug at the corner of her mouth. Since she was a filly, Octavia had been taught how to read ponies, and this one was obviously annoyed at being interrupted, but was trying to be friendly. She was instantly suspicious. What friend of Vinyl’s would be that self-aware?

Coming to a stop in the street, it was not immediately obvious where they would be going, since all of the buildings were almost uniform in appearance. The only clue was a sign near a door just a little bit ahead of the party. It was a little stained with dirt, but as they got closer, Octavia could see a brass horseshoe on a plaque nailed into the dark wooden sign. On top of the peculiar decoration were the words ‘The Lucky Horseshoe’ carved into the wood.

“You’re taking us… to a bar!?” the classy cellist gasped in horror. Of all the seedy places they could possibly go to meet, this was by far the worst. It was enough, in fact, to make Octavia stop in her tracks and consider making a beeline for the train and damn the consequences.

“Yep!” Berry Punch chirped, standing beside the door and looking at them. “I know it might LOOK like a bit of a dive, but it’s really quite homey. It’s not crowded at this time of day and it’s not really rowdy. Besides, it’s the most convenient place for us all to meet.” She put on her best smile.

“I’ve never been in a small-town bar before,” Beauty Brass said with amusement before taking a few steps towards it. “Are you coming in, Octavia? I wanna see what it’s like!”

Confound you, Beauty Brass! the bow-wearing mare seethed. She knew her friend had no such desire.

Berry smiled as they approached the door and walked inside ahead of her. The interior was made mostly of lighter wood, save an oaken counter at the bar itself. A dozen small tables and even more chairs were strewn about the floor, each immaculately cleaned to the point where they sparkled in the light of the small chandeliers hanging overhead. Aside from the pictures and paintings hanging on the wall, the room was neat to the point of being a little barren.

“Hey, Berry. It’s Friday afternoon and you’re not drunk yet: what gives?” a baritone voice called out from somewhere hidden in the room.

“I’m showing some new friends around town before they meet up with the gang,” she replied.

“The GANG?” Octavia questioned, slightly panicked.

“Oh, okay. I take it you’ll have the usual then?” Suddenly, a pony popped up from behind the counter. He was a smokey grey pegasus stallion with green eyes and a mane almost as white as snow. Octavia could not make out his cutie mark, however, since he stood behind the counter.

“Oh, no thank you, Quick Silver. At least, not right away. It’s going to be a story night, and I don’t want to get hammered until I’m at LEAST halfway through!”

“Charming,” Octavia mumbled with half-lidded eyes.

“All right, fair enough,” he shrugged. “Can I get you two ladies anything to drink?

“Not unless you have coffee,” the grey mare responded with a flat tone.

“I’ll take a sarsaparilla, if you have any,” Beauty smiled.

“I have both, no problem. Do you want cream or sugar with your coffee, ma’am?”

“Cream, but no sugar. Thank you,” she finished. Berry started walking towards a table in the corner and the two Canterlot mares followed. It was a quiet, intimate sort of booth nestled into a corner of the room that had three sides of seating and other booths neighboring it. Berry slid right into the back, but Octavia sat as close to the edge of the continuous bench as possible. Beauty Brass, meanwhile, settled in to sit right beside her friend.

“The others should be here any minute,” the Ponyville native assured them as they sat in silence, with only the ticking of a clock somewhere unseen and the sound of cluttering glasses breaking it. Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, a bell above the door rang and the sound of many hooves clopping on wood caused Octavia to turn and look.

There were three ponies at the door, two mares and a single stallion. The first mare in was a unicorn with a dark blue coat, and a strange, wavy two-tone mane of blue and white that reminded her somewhat of Vinyl, except slightly more elegant. The second mare was also a unicorn, but she had a very deep brown coloured coat with a mane of white which had some dirt in it.

“Hey there!” Berry waved to her friends. “Over here! Come, sit and be merry!” She smiled and continued to wave, even as they walked over to her. The two mares and stallion slid into the stall on the opposite side of Octavia and Beauty, with the colt of the trio taking the other outside seat. He was a rather muscular, brown pegasus with a blonde mane and, from the angle, the cellist could see a guitar cutie mark on his flank.

“So! Introductions,” Berry smiled. “This is Colgate, Quick Fix, and the lug over at the end is Blind Charge,” she said, gesturing to the blue pony, brown mare, and stallion respectively. “Toothpaste, Wrench and Charger, this is the infamous Octy- er… Octavia and her friend Beauty Brass.”

Octavia looked over at Berry with no doubt a look of confusion. “Those are our Vinyl nicknames,” Quick Fix explained with a roll of her eyes. “Speaking of, Grape, where’s Lye?”

“I can field that one,” the mare known as Colgate spoke. “She and her marefriend had a fight last night and she was kicked out of the house, so she spent the night at mine and has to go make nice. She told me she’d be along later in the evening and to go on without her.”

“What’d she do this time?” Berry asked, blinking.

“No idea; I didn’t pry. Probably that weird hobby of hers again.” There was a shared chuckle around the room, which Octavia found a little off-putting. What kind of hobby did this ‘Lye’ character have that was so amusing, yet got her in trouble with, probably, saner ponies?

“So… uh,” Octavia spoke in the hopes of getting things moving. “What’s the story with Vinyl Scratch and those sunglasses of hers? After all, that is what we came down here to find out. And could we do this quickly? We have a big concert to prepare for in a few days and the sooner we get things sorted, the better.

“Yeah, Berry told us what happened last night. Not a smart move on your part,” the brown pony said.

“I’ve gathered,” the cellist said with deadpan expression, the black mark on her eye only just barely visible through her grey coat.

“I’ll tell the story! I should know it best because she told it to me only a couple of years ago.” Berry grinned broadly, probably sensing the building tension. “It all started just a couple of months after Vee got her DJ license.”

“Wait. Are you telling me a pony needs to be certified to be a disk jockey!?” Octavia interrupted, her jaw dropped slightly.

“Apparently so,” the purple pony continued, not batting an eye at her interruption. “Can you please save all questions and comments for the end? It’d be hard for me to keep track if you don’t. Um… right! It was a few years ago…”

~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~

Large, canvas tents of multi-coloured hues stood as islands amongst a sea of moving bodies through the even larger hall in which they sat. Hundreds of conversations melted into a single rabble of incoherent speech behind a veil of music. The melodies were not exempt from the melting pot though: each individual song collided and created something new with its neighbours. To most ponies, it was an unholy hodgepodge of obnoxious noise.

However, to one mare standing in the heart of it all, it was anything but. It was a new, unique song all on its own with lyrics that could never be repeated. There was something special about it, knowing that she would never again hear the exact same song with the same tempo or beat to it. Yet, as the pony in front of her moved forward, ever so slightly, she lost track of her muse and remembered where she was.

Only in Manehatten, specifically the annual Musical Arts Convention, could an up-and-coming young artist like herself make it really big if the right pony came along. It was only earlier that morning that a colt from a record label stopped by her booth and expressed a breath of interest in her. Not that being tied to a lebel was her scene, but it meant ponies were interested and that was always a good thing! But the future… beyond the immediate, anyway… was far from her mind as she glanced over the shoulder of the pony standing in front of her.

Vinyl Scratch’s constant smirk turned into a beaming grin as she noticed that she was now only a couple of pony lengths from her! A jolt of electricity shot through her body, causing her to trot in place on the spot excitedly and very nearly let out a very un-cool squeal at the idea of being so close to her idol after only waiting an hour in line. She did not notice that she had stepped on the tail of the stallion in front of her. “Ow!” he exclaimed before looking back at the magenta-eyed mare. “Watch where you’re stepping!”

Normally, Vinyl would have gotten mad at him for talking to her in such a rude tone, but she was so excited to meet her that she simply let it slide off her back. “Kay. Sorry dude. No need to be testy.” Although not easing up on his glare, the colt turned his head back to face the front. Behind his flank, Vinyl stuck her tongue out at him and decided to call it even, lest she embarrass herself in front of the mare at the end of the line.

Looking around him again, she found that the queue was beginning to move far more quickly than she had realized. Maybe it was the anticipation, or maybe it was the lack of conversation, but it did not matter to Vinyl. The white unicorn at the table ahead smiled warmly and spoke unknown words to a star-struck filly in front of her.

Her two-tone purple mane was swept back into a spiky mohawk that ran all the way down her neck. However, her most distinctive feature was her purple shades. They had big, thick rims of black plastic and the lenses had a gradient of purple to match her mane, going from dark at the top to lighter near the bottom. Before she had come along, such a look was likely to get somepony laughed off the stage, but by Celestia, she made it work! Vinyl could not help but let her mind run wild with the possibilities of what would happen when she met her, ignoring the obvious fact that she was probably just as star-struck as the little filly.

In her mind, she could see the two of them going to a coffee shop after the convention was over and talk to each other as if they were old friends. They would discuss this or that, no real topic of conversation; just idle chat. However, she was soon ripped out of her daydreams by a pony at the head of the line calling ‘next’ which made the stallion in front of her advance and come before her.

Now there was a bored-looking minty mare with red, thick-rimmed glasses in the shape of wings in front of Vinyl, making sure the ponies in line stayed orderly and did not crowd the mare beyond. “If you want anything signed, its five bits,” she spoke in a whiney, high-strung Upper Manehatten accent. Vinyl dug into her saddle bags and pulled out a small sack of bits of which five floated into the other pony’s pack. The budding DJ also pulled out a record, a picture of the mare at the table leaning over an old-style standing microphone against a black background on the front.

“Next!” the bored mare called out once the colt finished stammering goodbye. She moved slightly to the side to let Vinyl pass, which the unicorn was only too happy to do. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, forcing her every ounce of willpower to stop from breaking into a gallop. Each hoof step seeming like an eternity as she travelled closer to the mare than she had ever dreamed she would. She took a deep breath to steel herself and presented the album jacket for her to sign.

At first, the white unicorn at the table gave her a small, but friendly smile. However, as Vinyl got closer, it broadened into a wide grin. “Hey there, kid!” she said warmly with a hoof beckoning her closer.

“Hey. ...Sup?” Vinyl spoke, voice shaking a little, but determined to remain calm and cool in front of her.

“I caught your show last night, you know. It’s nice to meet you, DJ P0n-3!” She extended her hoof for her to shake.

“You... You, DJ FLARE, caught my show? MY show!?” she replied in squeaky disbelief, but shook her hoof nonetheless.

“Uh-huh! The owner of the club’s an old friend of mine, helped me get started, and I was in last night to catch up. I heard you laying down the beats and I asked him about you: said you were a newbie, but still good enough for him to give a shot. I agree with him! Techno isn’t my niche, since I’m more a rocker mare, but I was impressed.”

Vinyl could hardly believe her ears. Here she was: DJ Flare, the best and most well-known disk jockey this side of the dragon lands, telling her that she, Vinyl Scratch, had impressed her! “I... I’m honoured! I know you must get this all the time, but I got into DJing because of you.”

“Not as often as you’d think, actually,” she said with a smile. The album jacket Vinyl had brought to be signed lay forgotten on the table. “You know, I think we might have to pick up this conversation later, DJ P0n-3. I’m free this afternoon for lunch. Why don’t you join me?” she continued, bringing over the album with her hoof and signing it after seeing how antsy the crowd was getting.

Vinyl had to fight to keep her cool and not squeal with pure euphoria. “Sure, I can dig that. You can call me ‘Vinyl’ if you want to. Where do you want to meet?”

“I was thinking maybe by that burger place out back at, say, around two or something? If I can call you Vinyl, then you can call me-”

“Oh come on!” an impatient pony near the back of the line shouted, making the ever calm idol turn her head and, as Vinyl imagined, roll her eyes behind those opaque shades. However, some of the other ponies in line were beginning to push and shove, obviously annoyed that Vinyl had spent far longer with her than any pony before. It was almost enough to make her laugh and slightly envious of how many ponies simply wanted to talk to her. Vinyl hoped that, one day, she might have fans like that.

“Well, I’ve held up your line for long enough. Sounds like a kick-flank idea. I’ll meet you there,” the younger DJ smiled.

“Yep, see you there, Vinyl,” she said with a smile and a wave of her hoof.

Taking her album back, the unicorn made her way down the small elevated stage that had the table on top, but she felt like she could have sprouted wings and done a loop-de-loop down instead. However, she bumped into a stallion dressed in a black suit making his way up towards the stage. Seeing no badge on him to tell if he worked for Flare or not, she decided to help him out. “Hey, buddy. The line starts back there.”

However, the rude colt shoved her aside, a glint of silver from a necklace flashing in her eyes, making her turn on the spot in curiosity. He marched right up to the other mare; shoving aside a fan getting his shirt signed by her and cleared his throat loudly. “DJ Flare, the time has come for you to pay for the insult you once did to us,” he spoke over the rabble in a Neighponese accent.

For her part, Flare did not bother with him, not even looking up, until she had finished signing the shirt. “Silent Shadow, do you really need to do this here? I’m with fans and this is a very public place.”

“I do not care! Because of you I have lost everything...and I am not alone. I can do what I want, when I want, where I want, because there is no pony more free than one with nothing to lose!”

“Don’t care; come back later,” she said with a hint of mirth, judging by her unphased grin. However, no pony was laughing, especially as half a dozen other ponies, all dressed in the same black outfit, crept out of the crowd and encircled the DJ. She turned her head, smile turning into a slight frown as she regarded every pony around her. “Really? You seriously want me to leave my shoe print on your rears? Well... if you’re THAT determined, I would be very rude of me to deny you.”

“Hey, wait!” Vinyl said, walking up to face the scene that she has somehow ended up in the middle of. “You’re going to fight her!? Why? What’s she ever done to you, buck-face?”

“This is nothing foals need concern themselves with. Begone, lest you get hurt,” the leader of the encircling ponies spoke to her coldly.

“Oh-ho-ho, now I’m going to have fun bucking your face in, bub,” she replied before walking over to him. “NO PONY calls DJ P0N-3 a foal and gets away with it!”

“You really don’t need to be involved in this,” Flare spoke as she rounded on her table, the workers trying to usher the crowds lined up away. “I’d rather not have a fan get hurt. Especially by scum like this,” she spat at the older stallion.

“I’ve been in brawls before, I can handle myself,” Vinyl reassured her.

The older stallion smirked and chuckled to himself. “Two stupid, young disk jockeys against twelve older, far more experienced ninjas? This will be so easy that it’s almost not sporting. Fillies and gentlecolts? Let’s wipe them out!”

In an instant, everything around them turned to chaos as the ninjas sprung into the attack. Others screamed and ran for their lives as several glints of steel flashed, but the two unicorn mares were ready. Time seemed to slow down for Vinyl as one of the assailants charged her, moving to draw a sword hidden within their skin-tight outfit. She dashed towards them so that the pony would have less time to react.

Her gambit seemed to pay off, as she delivered a solid buck between the eyes, throwing them onto their back before they could draw. Using her magic, she wrapped the ninja in a ruby glow of telekinetic power and sent them flying into a stand down the aisle which collapsed on top of them.

Flare, meanwhile, had used her musical magic to devastating effect; shooting off concussive blasts of raw sound at each ninja, making them fly and bowl over anything in their path, be it pony, bench, or stand alike. The dust began to settle over the moans of injured and humiliated shadow warriors and the ceaseless thunder of running hooves. The stallion that spoke with Flare picked himself up off the floor and smiled. “I don’t know where you two learned to fight like that, but I still have numbers on my side!”

Before either Flare or Vinyl could realize what was happening, dozens, if not hundreds more ninja emerged from the shadowy corners of the convention hall and converged on them. “I bet you didn’t realize there was a Ninja Convention next door, now did you, Flare?” he smirked as the two DJs backed into each other. They were surrounded on all sides and outnumbered at least a thousand to one.

“Dude, what did you DO to these buckers?” Vinyl asked, impressed that her idol had managed to piss off an entire profession.

“I might have gone to Neighpon and I might have partied too much and threw up on an ancient and sacred statue of their deity in a drunken blur,” she answered sheepishly, blushing and rubbing the back of her mane. “And then I might have bucked it. I don’t remember.”

“Oh, Celestia, that sounds awesome,” Vinyl beamed.

“Mmm. Listen, there’s something under the table you might find useful, Vinyl. Be a pal and get it for me?”

“Okay,” she replied a little uneasily, reaching out with her magic beneath the table to feel for what she meant. The sensation was sudden and distinctive as she felt her aura touch something long and hard, making her gasp. She yanked on it and drew the slender sword out of its scabbard and in front of her face. “Sweet!” she smiled as she admired the blade.

Long minutes passed as the ninjas attacked from all sides, pinning them down as others evacuated the hall. Concussive blasts of sound erupted from Flare’s horn as individual ninjas came close to them, all of them with swords drawn, ready to be used with deadly skill. Yet, for every one that was thrown back and injured, two more seemed to pop up in their place, causing Flare’s trademarked smirk to falter just a tiny bit. “Hey, Vee? How ya holdin’ out?” she asked as she heard the clash of blades behind her.

Vinyl barely kept the ninjas on her side of the circle at bay and though they possessed far more experience than her, she kept right on top of them, even beating them back just a little bit. “Fine!” she spoke through her gritted teeth as they clashed against the blade in her mouth. “If I’m in trouble, you’ll know it!” Stepping forward, the ninjas backed off from her, obviously impressed at the way she handled a sword despite being a beginner.

Together, the two unicorns took down hundreds of ninjas back-to-back, some concussed, others bloody heaps piling high on the floor, writhing and moaning in pain, for none of them had, miraculously, died yet. However, the wear was starting to become evident. Vinyl’s coat glistened with sweat as she panted for breath, and the power of Flare’s attacks dwindled just a little bit with every strike.

“Vinyl?” she panted after blasting another away. “I don’t think we can take this for much longer, do you?”

“Not really, no. I hope you have a plan for that,” the younger DJ responded.

“I do,” she sighed. “Brace yourself.” Vinyl had no plans of looking behind her, but she did as she said anyway, pulling back from her marginal advance. However, instead of coming closer, the ninjas stared in horror and froze in place. For a brief moment, she thought Flare had cast some sort of time spell, but the intense buildup of magic energy on her horn gave her pause.

Turning around despite herself, the DJ saw her idol suspended in a sphere of pure blue magic, lightning crackling and sparking in the barrier. From her angle, she could not see the void of white that had become of her eyes, shining through the sunglasses as if nothing were even there. Yet, she could see the unadulterated fear and desperation on the ninjas’ faces as a clue.

Flare shuddered and groaned as each bolt of lightning struck her, causing her body to grow and reshape itself. With a slight cry, wings began to emerge from her sides. Vinyl could only sit there and gawk with the others as the transformation took place, sword falling out of her dropped jaw with a faded clank. Somehow, she was becoming an alicorn, yet the only thing she could think to say was a small, almost inaudible “Damn!”

The bubble of magic faded away slowly, revealing the alicorn within. Her coat dazzled like snow, giving a luster of midday to those around her. Her mane and tail, once spiky and short, now flowed out for feet, wafting in an ethereal breeze, and had not a tangle or single sharp edge to its locks. Musical notes would pop up here and there in her mane, whole notes, half notes, quarter notes; all the notes there were in different combinations.

“Thou shalt pay for angering the Goddess of Music!” the former unicorn shouted, her voice echoing as if she were a multitude. “How dare thee endanger mine fans and mine friends with such reckless disregard!? Prepare to meet divine fury!” Her horn dazzled in a furious flame of ocean blue as magic began to compress around her.

Some ninja began to flee, obviously unicorns since Vinyl herself felt very much like she should be running as well. All the others just looked on in mystified horror, not knowing the retribution that was to come. She knew that Flare would not wish to harm her, but even knowing that, she trembled in her shoes.

A blast, like the loudest pipe organ ever, exploded from the divine mare, shredding clothes, obliterating stands and sending every pony inside the building flying out through the massive windows that made the outer walls of the convention center. All, that is, except for Vinyl Scratch, who stood in amazement, mane swept back as if she had been standing in the middle of a hurricane.

“Holy buck!” she shouted, ears ringing loudly from the volume of the attack. “That was... Oh my... You just!” there were no words to describe the awesomeness that she had just witnessed.

Flare floated down to the ground, shaking her head as if her mane were wet. “Phew,” she expressed, sitting on her rump. “I didn’t mean to put out that much power,” she chuckled uneasily, back still facing away from her. “Are you okay there, Vee?”

“Yeah... Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, sitting beside her, though still in a mild state of shock. “But holy Celestia! That was... No words to describe.” She shook her head, trying to grind through the object lodged into her mental gears.

“Yeah...” Flare added, although a little sadly. “Listen, Vinyl... I’m afraid I’m going to have to call off our lunch. I’ve only been allowed to stay here because I was all incognito and junk. But, now that my cover’s been blown... I have to go.”

“What!?” she exclaimed, looking up and to the side, into the face of her idol. “Wh-where are you going? Why do you have to leave?”

“I have to leave because I promised Celestia and Luna that I wouldn’t use my powers. They’ll know soon enough that I’ve broken that vow, so I have to go. As for where... Well, let’s just say this is not goodbye.” Her horn glowed once more, this time wrapping the shades that sat on the bridge of her nose with her blue aura, slipping them off to show her rarely seen orange eyes. “I want you to have these, Vinyl. I can’t take material goods where I’m going and... I think you can take care of them.”

Vinyl gulped as she felt the shades descend upon her, landing on her muzzle and throwing the world into a purple tint. “These are... I can’t! These are yours. I’m not worthy enough to wear your shades!” She could feel tears begin to well up in her eyes, but she did her damnedest to suppress them.

“Don’t be like that, filly. You have great talent and promise. I’m sure you won’t let me down. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. Goodbye, Vinyl Scratch. And good luck.” Before she could utter a word against it, DJ Flare exploded in light; a light that would have blinded her had it not been for the shades that now adorned her face. Just as soon as it happened, it was gone, and so too was Vinyl’s inspiration, her idol, her goddess.

/***\/***\/***\

“What!?” sounded a general chorus from the peanut gallery of friends. They all looked at Berry Punch, who now had a bottle of whiskey in hoof and a prominent blush on her cheeks, like she had grown a second head. It was obvious that, just like Octavia, they felt the story just shared was rather dubious… and it actually put her at ease knowing that they were at least not completely insane.

“Berry, go home. You’re drunk,” Colgate spoke in a monotone and half-lidded gaze. The others looked just plain disappointed, hinting to the cellist that this was at least a common occurrence.

“I shwear to drunk, I’m not Shelestia,” Berry slurred back.

“Yeah, well, we all know that’s not the story,” Quick Fix quipped after sipping on a glass of sarsaparilla. “Besides, next to Octavia, you’ve known Vinyl the shortest of any of us.” Just as she finished speaking, Berry’s head drooped and fell onto the table with a thunk.

“Fine, which witch here can tell… the… right…” Before the lush could finish her sentence, she drifted off to sleep.

Quick Fix sighed and stood up, shimmying past Blind Charge on her way out. “I’ll go get some coffee and wake her up,” she mumbled.

“Do we have to?” Octavia groaned, casting a disapproving glare at the drunk pony now drooling on the table.

She startled as Beauty set her glass down with a clink. “Well, I for one want to hear more about these so-called ninjas!”

Melody

Four mares and a stallion sat in a bar, and while it may have sounded like the beginning of a joke, Octavia Melody and her best friend Beauty Brass did not find their situation at all funny. Berry Punch, the lavender earth pony who had lead the Canterlot mares to the bar, had her face flat against the table after having passed out from drinking too much whiskey too fast.

Colgate, who sat opposite of Beauty, looked rather disappointed, with her head upon her hoof while leaning on the same table. Meanwhile, the only stallion in attendance, Blind Charge, sat there stoically trying to ignore the passed out pony, sipping his glass of milk occasionally. Somewhere in the bar, a clock ticked to signal the seconds passing as swiftly as a heavy cart in a mud hole, with the tension just as thick.

“So… that was… interesting,” Octavia tried to break the ice, but looked down at her refilled cup of warm coffee when the ice remained solid. Perhaps (and this was a wild guess on the upper class mare’s part), they were embarrassed by their friend’s conduct? Or perhaps they sent her that body language as a way to hide darker motives.

Gaining nothing from trying to let blood from a stone, she noticed that Beauty Brass was looking out of the window while nursing her sarsaparilla. Beyond the glass, Octavia could see that the streets had come alive as ponies moved to and fro upon the cobbles and around the buildings. Eventually, they would likely lose the privacy of having the building all to themselves, especially because it was a Friday.

Not that it really mattered; the odds were good that there would be at least one good samaritan among the bunch if Vinyl’s friends tried anything funny. At least she hoped so, considering they all probably knew each other in this hick town. She turned her head back to the group to find that Quick Fix had returned with a cup of coffee. The tan unicorn tried to waft the smell over to the unconscious mare, but there was nothing for it.

Colgate let out a deep sigh at the sight, catching Octavia’s attention. “I think I can speak on behalf of all of us when I say that we’re sorry for this,” she spoke.

Octavia blinked slowly and replied, “It’s all right. I have seen Vinyl do and say much worse when she comes home blind drunk.”

“It’s not that simple,” Quick sighed while taking her seat. The coffee stayed by the purple one’s muzzle, but she had obviously given up the ghost on rousing the drunk. “Vinyl tends to drink because it’s part of her job as a DJ. You know: networking and being a social butterfly and all?”

“Yes,” Octavia replied deadpan. “She has turned up with some interesting… companions… over the time that I have known her. I had figured that was the case.”

“Yeah, well, Berry is completely different from Vinyl. Sure, they both drink together, but Vee drinks to be social. Berry drinks to… forget,” Colgate elaborated. “Well, you see… she was the fifth foal born into the family and her parents are always busy, so she never got as much attention as other foals would.”

“Are you sure you should be telling us this?” Beauty said quietly after a sip of her drink. “We’re not exactly friends and this seems to be rather personal.”

“Probably not, but Colgate loves to gossip,” the quiet stallion spoke with a pointed glare at the blue mare.

“Don’t give me that. Berry is determined to befriend them and she would have blabbed about it during some drunken rant or another. I’m just being succinct,” she said.

“And a bit of a gossipy dam, but you’re going to continue anyway,” Quick Fix sighed, picking up a glass of water with her magic.

“Dam right I am!” Colgate smiled, teeth sparkling brilliantly in the bar lights. There was a unanimous groan from all present over the pun. “So anyway, Berry is sort of known around here as the Town Drunk. She got her start at her job, taste testing her family’s product, and snuck some of the unsellable stuff every now and then, but eventually she started downing the harder liquors.”

“That was about the only thing she was given to do, since her older brothers and sisters had everything under control. Poor Berry then started doing more than was necessary to earn her own adoration, but… well… she became an alcoholic in the process. She devised new ways to get the wine to perfection and is great at what she does, don’t get me wrong… but there were consequences.”

“Pinchy…” the drunken mare mumbled in her sleep.

Octavia blinked at the sudden interruption and a gear slid neatly into place as she put two and two together. “Good heavens, you mean she…” but she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Getting drunk during Heat Week wasn’t her brightest moment, for sure,” Quick Fix nodded while looking sympathetically at her out cold friend and her collection of bottles.

“Yeah…” Colgate continued. “Her parents all but disowned her when she couldn’t hide it anymore. They let her keep her job, but under strict supervision, and they, er, encouraged her to leave the house as soon as she could. If she was old enough to bear a foal, she was old enough to handle raising it on her own. Not that they’re cruel or anything, Tartarus no! It’s just that her mother left her family when she had her first foal, and she married the father. I guess she thought it would work the same for Berry but…” she paused, looking at the eyes on her at the table. “Right. Rambling. Sorry.”

“Her siblings though? Not quite so forgiving,” Quick Fix said. “They’ve not spoken outside of work in years and… well, it’s a little hard on her. Vinyl was a blessing for Berry when she rolled into town. She’d lend her ear and a shoulder and together they’d drink their problems away.”

“So… Vinyl being a borderline alcoholic is a… good thing?” Octavia questioned.

“Well… it’s good for Berry,” Colgate said.

There was an awkward silence and a pause, giving the cellist time to reflect. By and large, she had it good. She was born to nobility and was an only foal, so she didn’t have to contend with siblings for her parents’ time or affections… but that was because her mother was practically barren and she was a miracle in the first place. She had always been their little treasure, and they made sure she knew it when they had free time to spend with her. But how would they have reacted if she had come home with that sort of news? A small shiver ran down her spine just for contemplating it.

“So… um… can anyone tell me the real story behind the sunglasses already?” she spoke to break the silence.

“I suppose the best of us to do that is Blind Charge,” Quick Fix answered. “He’s the next junior member of our group, so it’s more fresh in his head.” To that, the stallion simply nodded his head. “But… he doesn’t like speaking to ponies he doesn’t know… so if you want to hear it, then I guess you need to contribute.”

“Why can’t either of you-”

“It’s been years and besides, Charger is the best storyteller of the four of us,” she interrupted with her reply.

Octavia bit her lip nervously at the proposition. On one hoof, she needed to know why in Tartarus breaking those stupid sunglasses caused the normally easy-going Vinyl Scratch to buck her in the face. But on the other hoof, she really did not want to be associated with those ponies any longer than was necessary. She seemed to be taking a long time to contemplate it though, since before she could reply, somepony spoke up.

“It’s okay if you’d rather not share,” the brown stallion said. He turned to look at his similarly-coloured friend and added “I’d rather not make her uncomfortable. I’m fine with sharing the story so she can be on her way. She is, after all, a noble pony. Must be already out of her element talking to us commoners.”

“Most of our ensemble is commoners, so it’s not that,” Beauty Brass quipped. An icy glare from the bow tie-clad mare made her shrink in her seat. “I uh… I think…”

Octavia sighed quietly and took another sip of her coffee and thought. While she did not want to really associate with them, she also did not want to come off as snobbish either. After all, unlike most noble mares, she was self-aware. “I’d rather get to know you first before telling you about my relationship with her.”

“Okay... Sure…” he replied slowly, not quite expecting such a reply, judging from his tone. “Where would you like me to start?”

“How you met Vinyl Scratch should suffice.”

“Right, meeting Vinyl,” he affirmed, putting a hoof to his chin for a second to reminisce. “I met Vee in university. It was the year before she left, but I was just starting there. It was one of those mixer parties at the beginning of term and I was a little shy and off to one corner, and she was the centre of the party before she came over and helped me get comfortable.”

“Let me guess,” Octavia interrupted, “She either dropped out, or was expelled later in the semester.” She smirked triumphantly.

“No, this was during her last year in the program she was taking. She majored in Sound Engineering and minored in Electrical Engineering, if I’ve got that right?” he said as he looked over at Colgate, who simply smiled and nodded in confirmation.

For once that evening, Octavia was actually speechless, and not just awkwardly silent. “She… Vinyl Scratch… A mare who once thought that tightrope walking across the street fifty feet up in the air was a great idea for an album cover… has… an education!?” She gawked in utter disbelief.

“Two master’s degrees,” he smiled. “But anyway, yeah. We met at the mixer and she showed me around the campus. I was rather… well, shy. I suppose it would have been much worse if I knew then what I did now, of course. We naturally got to talking music because of our cutie marks and I learned about her aspiring DJ career and she about how I wanted to be a music teacher.”

“Oh, you teach music!?” Beauty Brass interjected. “Not many pegasi are musically inclined, or at least make a career of it. Where do you teach?”

“Cloudsdale High, my old alma mater,” he said before taking another sip of his milk. “Great school, great students, great break room.” His friends broke out in quiet laughter, obviously at some sort of in-joke that Octavia was not privy to.

“Back on topic though, even then we didn’t really get close. I mean, Vinyl’s a very pretty mare and I’m an awkward colt, so I was a bit timid of overstepping my bounds. Then there is the fact that she can be a bit rude and obscene… and not to mention a little bit insane, especially when playing her ‘wubs’ as she calls them. But for better or worse, we slowly became friends. Especially…” he trailed off.

“Especially what?” Octavia inquired with a quirked eyebrow.

“Even back then she was a prodigious drinker. One night before crunch time for finals, she dragged me along to a party a local fraternity was having. It wasn’t my scene, but… well, I didn’t want her to go alone. I’m glad I went along that time though, because a particularly… um… forceful stallion tried to get lucky that night.”

As he spoke, the mood at the table turned from jovial to heavy within a heartbeat. Octavia could see where this was going, having heard first-hoof accounts of such parties while she was in college. Still, it was remarkable to her that they could be solemn.

“It uh… it started to turn violent after she rejected him,” he continued with no more than a second’s pause. “Vee can put up a fight, don’t misunderstand, but she was pretty damn drunk. By the time I found them outside, they were yelling and he was forcing her into a corner and going on about how he’d just take what he wanted. So, I trotted up to the bastard and knocked him out with a good kick before I got her out of there. Later, when she was sober, she thanked me and then proclaimed we’d be friends for life. And we have been ever since.”

He quietly picked up his drink and sipped it with a pall of silence hanging over the group, even as the rest of the bar started to fill up with other patrons. Octavia took another sip of her coffee and looked at him for a moment before deciding to speak. “That was very good of you. Most stallions I knew in college were either more like that vicious brute, or nebbish colts who preferred to ignore it happening.”

“It’s always the quiet ones who tend to have the most surprises up their sleeves,” Colgate nodded, probably trying to break the tension. “I can corroborate that one, too. Vinyl told me all about it and introduced me to him not too long after. He’s a bit of a dork, but he’s good for a fight in a pinch. It’s GREAT for business” She smiled.

“I don’t wear sleeves,” he said quietly after putting down his milk.

Octavia was far too unnerved by her grin to even ask, so instead she quietly took a sip of her coffee. “So..” she started, looking at Blind Charge. “Can I hear the story now?”

“Oh, right, sorry,” he apologized, looking upward from his drink with a blush on his face. “It was a while before she would answer my own sunglasses question. In fact, I was in my second-to-last semester and she had already graduated a couple years previously. We met at a bar in Canterlot to catch up and discuss the new season of pegasus racing when that seemed to inspire her to tell me the story I’m about to tell you, and for good reason too.”

A couple of the friends raised their eyebrows at that last sentence. But Octavia did not really notice, since they were in the corners of her vision. The pegasus stallion had her full and undivided attention. “Really? Please, do go on,” she spoke.

“It was a fairly typical afternoon; just a couple of months after she got her first long-term gig at a club as a DJ...”

~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~

Built into the side of a mountain, Canterlot always afforded magnificent views of the surrounding countryside from just about anywhere in the city. Aside from the castle itself, the best view in the entire kingdom could be found at the Canterlot Aerodrome. Decorated in the city’s signature colour scheme of brilliant gold, subtle lavender and gorgeous alabaster, the amphitheatre proudly carried on the code of simple elegance that was the foundation of their society.

From any seat in the house, one could see the picturesque valley below, all the way out to a small village and beyond into the very depths of the Everfree Forest. On a clear day, some ponies claimed to see all the way to Fillydelphia, of all places! But the top VIP box had the most spectacular view by far, since it was where the princesses would watch their fleet of airships drift past during the annual armada parade.

Of course, Vinyl Scratch cared for none of that as she trotted down the slickened slate streets. The day was grey and slightly rainy, so there would be no commanding views, but that was fine since she was there for what occupied the rest of the stadium’s time: Pegasus racing! Though gambling was illegal everywhere but Las Pegasus, it did not mean that she could not make some discreet cash off the races. There was always a stallion or two willing to make a private bet and she would take them all to the cleaners!

Pushing open the statue-flanked gilded doors, a pony could almost swear that they had walked into the palace by mistake. Though the entrance hall was small in comparison to the rest of the building, it still had that stuck up better-than-you feeling that the nobility wallowed in like pigs in mud, but in the royal capital the same was true of every public building. That, plus the fact that she was technically a part of those high-nosed fart-sniffers meant that she paid little regard to the stunning mosaics in the marble-like floor, or the gold trim on ancient pegasus-styled columns if only because she was used to such decor.

A long line of turnstiles and booths blocked off the entrance from the rest of the building, most empty that day. A bored looking tan unicorn in one of the few open ticket booths regarded the white mare for a brief second before standing rigid as if stuck with a lightning spell. “Hello!” she chirped the instant she swapped personalities. “Welcome to Canterlot Downs Aerodrome! Entrance fee is thirty bits. Booth seats are an extra ten.”

Everything in this town has to be so bucking expensive, Vinyl complained as she hoofed over forty of her bits from her saddlebags.

“Thank you ma’am, here is your ticket!” the mare said after opening the register and pulling out a ticket for her. “You are in booth number three; just follow the signs. Also, half of your ticket price will be sent to a noteworthy charity at the end of the month. Please be advised that gambling on these races is strictly prohibited. Have a good day!”

Strictly prohibited, huh? Last time it was just ‘not allowed.’ I’d hate to be the poor sucker they caught doing it, Vinyl thought as she took her ticket in her red aura and trotted through the turnstile. I mean, it’s not like they actually go looking for it. Quickly pushing the thought out of her head, the young mare followed the signs down hallways and up stairs until finally she found herself in front of a door with a big gold-plated number three on it.

Opening the door, she stepped onto the soft, crimson carpet and surveyed her surroundings. A large glass window took up the entirety of the wall right in front of her to allow patrons to view the race away from the elements. A voice over the loudspeaker quickly tried to keep up with the events of the already in-progress race while ponies talked under it, some about wagers, others about the competitors. About two dozen padded seats filled the room with only about five or six of them occupied mostly by colts, but there was one mare on the far end.

She was a white unicorn like Vinyl herself, but what really struck her about the mare was her spiky two-tone purple mane that was swept back into a mohawk that ran all the way down the back of her neck. Giving a smirk at having found one of her sort of ponies in a sea of stuffy Canterlotians, she worked her way through the seats towards her. “Yo,” she said when she got close enough. “Anypony sitting here?”

“Nah, you’re free to it, kid,” the other mare replied, looking over to her with her bright, orange eyes.

At first, Vinyl had no idea what to say since the mare looked and sounded familiar, but she could not quite put her hoof on how. So, with a smile and a quick “thanks” she sat down on the cushion beside her. As she settled, she could not help but notice something balancing on the side of the chair. Though she could not be sure, it looked like a pair of purple-tinted sunglasses. But why would a pony be wearing shades on a day as grey and dark as this one was?

Looking between the enigmatic sunglasses and the pony beside her, Vinyl slowly played with and manipulated the pieces of the puzzle, which, considering her hangover from the previous night, was a pretty substantial feat. “Say...” she spoke after the first race. “Do you think you could wear those shades of yours? I think I’ve seen you somewhere before, miss.”

“Heh. No hint of subtlety, eh, DJ P0n3?” She spoke with a smirk, turning her head.

“Nope! I am tactless incarnate! I didn’t know my name was becoming a household thing though or else I would have charged more for my last gig.” Vinyl smiled.

“It’s tactlessness, actually. Oh, and if I were you, I’d trim that ego. I only knew you ‘cause I was at that club the night before last and caught your set. You know, for a techno filly, you sure got a way about you.”

“Ha. No kidding,” the DJ said after a short laugh. “So, how about it? The shades I mean.”

“Well, if you absolutely have to see them,” she said as she lifted the purple shades with her deep blue magic. Once they were lowered upon her face, she turned to the other mare and smirked. “So? What do you think?” She asked.

“I had a feeling that it was you, DJ Flare,” Vinyl grinned in victory. “I just wanted to be sure before I made a moron out of myself. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Nah, it’s fine. At least you weren’t all screaming and begging for an autograph and all that other junk,” she smiled before pulling off her shades and stretching in her chair.

“So... Wait. You said you caught my last set?”

“Mhm. Like I said; I might not be much of a techno filly, but you got a real talent for working the crowd. I haven’t seen a newbie get the joint jumping that way in a very long time. At least, not since I was a newbie,” Flare smiled with self-satisfaction. The younger DJ smiled and laughed at the joke, feeling as if she were talking to a member of the family and not the mare that inspired her lifestyle.

“You know, I’ve been thinking of getting some shades for my look as well,” Vinyl added after scratching at an itch just below her magenta eyes. “I wouldn’t pick a style to try to copy you, of course. I was thinking of maybe some ‘Mares in Black’ shades or those funky pointy ones from that Neighponese anime.”

Flare looked at her quietly for a moment, surveying her up and down as if sizing her up. The uncomfortable silence drifted and lasted through the next race before she spoke up. “Nope. I don’t see either of those styles suiting you, P0n3. In fact, the only kind of shades I see fitting that look of yours are mine.”

Before Vinyl could say another word, her world became tinted in purple at the blink of an eye. The shades hanging on the chair were gone and from what she could feel, she could only assume they were on her face. Flare’s smirk broadened into a grin as she regarded the mare once more, a glint in her orange eyes as if an idea had come to mind.

“Tell you what, filly,” Flare spoke, taking the shades back. “Let’s make the next race a little more... interesting.” Lowering her voice, she leaned in a bit and continued. “Wanna place a little bet on it?”

“Sure. I’m game,” Vinyl replied, leaning in close as well. “How much do you have to lose? I can go as high as three hundred.”

“Actually... I was thinking of something more... substantial.” Those once warm and inviting orange orbs had taken a sudden, mischievous twist as the mare’s smile grew into a Cheshire grin. “Bits are nice and all, but you’re just going to use them to buy some plop like food and microphones, so why not skip the middle mare and get right to the good stuff? Don’t you agree, P0n3?”

Vinyl pursed her lips and considered what Flare was proposing, though it did not take her very long for her to make up her mind. “That sounds even better. What did you have in mind?”

“Well...” She trailed off. “I was really taken by your speakers the other night. I doubt they’re stock, so you must have done something to them.”

“The only part that’s stock is the casing, so yeah.”

“That’s even better! If my pony wins, I want those speakers of yours.”

“What!?” Vinyl shouted with a gasp, causing the other occupants of the box to look at the mares as if they had interrupted a quiet meeting. “What!?” she repeated in a more hushed tone. “But I made those from scratch! There ain’t another pair of speakers like them in all of Equestria!”

“Well, that’s what I want if I win. You can ask me for anything of mine and I won’t hesitate to put it on to the table. I have a lot of plop up for the taking, P0n3. Or are you chicken?”

Vinyl’s face changed gears in less than a second. Her ears swiveled back and her brows furrowed as her grin faded into a flat look of sheer concentration. Flare looked back into her eyes, confidence burning in those orange orbs. “Okay,” the younger unicorn said after a moment. “If I have to put my speakers on the line, then you need to give up something important too: I’m thinking your shades.”

For her part, Flare did not even flinch for having been asked to put something so important on the betting table. Vinyl and every other fan of hers knew that she regarded those plastic lenses the same way a normal pony would a pet, or maybe even a newborn sibling. Instead, she looked the incredulous pony in the eyes, orange meeting magenta, before nodding her head and smiling. “All right, it’s a deal.” Extending their hooves, the two mares clopped them together in agreement, sealing the bet. “Just to show you how good of a sport I am, I will let you pick your pony first. Who do you like the most?”

On the wall beside them, as with every row of seats, there was a program of the day’s races and who would be participating. Despite the program being a little hard to decipher if one was not used to it, Vinyl found the next race and began scanning it for names. Suddenly, one jumped out at her, almost as if it were basking in the eternal radiance of the sun itself.

“I like Lightfoot the best. I bet you he will win outright,” she said, turning to face the older DJ.

“All righty then,” she replied before standing up and trotting over to the same board. Flare looked at it, considering, but was finished with her choice much faster than Vinyl. “I think Thunder Run will place at the very least.”

“Fine,” Vinyl replied, nodding her head. “If neither win or place though, then whoever comes in ahead is the winner, right?”

“Mhm! I was thinking the exact same thing, P0n3. Glad to see we’re on a similar wavelength,” she added with a small smile.

“Please, call me Vinyl.”

“Okay, Vinyl. Let’s shut up and enjoy the race, shall we?” The instant she stopped speaking, the starting horn for the next race sounded, bringing almost everypony’s attention towards the aerial track. Like most Pegasus races, the course was a giant ellipse flanked by clouds on both sides. Racers could reach breakneck speeds in the straightaways, only to have to turn very quickly because the Canterlot course had to keep within the mountain’s profile, or else the clouds would be blown away by the strong valley winds.

As the racers lined up at the starting gate, Vinyl sat on the edge of her seat with both anticipation and to see the entire track through the large window. Eight ponies flapped in mid-air impatiently as the gates shaped by clouds and operated by magic held them all back and at an equal position. One could feel the tension in the air begin to rise once more as the ponies stared straight ahead, gritting their teeth with determination.

“Fillies and gentlecolts,” the announcer boomed over the loudspeakers. “On your marks... Get set... GO!” With the ringing of another bell, the gates swung up in front of the racers, sending forth a cascade of technicolor hues into the sky from the starting line. Vinyl cried out in anguish as Thunder Run stole an early lead, easily the fastest flier since he came up to the first turn well before anypony else. Meanwhile, Lightfoot flew in the middle of the pack, but still far behind the other DJ’s pick.

“Aw come on, the race isn’t over yet,” Flare smirked, seeing her distress. “I think it might be closer than you think,” she added while gesturing to the track. In the time it took for Vinyl to fret and for Flare to speak, the rest of the pack had managed to catch up to Thunder, who had slowed significantly during the turn. At the same time, her pony breezed through the same turn and was almost up to par.

“It would seem that while Thunder is easily the fastest, he is absolutely crap at cornering,” Flare sighed, shaking her head before letting out a little laugh. “But that doesn’t mean he’s going to lose though. Your speakers will yet be mine, Vinyl.”

“We’ll just see about that. GO LIGHTFOOT!” Vinyl cheered, even as Thunder Run zoomed ahead of the pack once more on the second straightaway. While he was, indeed, the fastest pony of the pack, every lap or so, he would fall just a little bit back towards the rest of the pack. Lightfoot, meanwhile, took the corners sharply and moved more efficiently by flying right behind other ponies so he would not have to work as hard, keeping himself more in the middle of the pack for most of the twenty laps around the circuit. But then they came to the final lap.

Detaching himself from his usual methods, Lightfoot came out from behind his opponent with a tremendous burst of speed. She almost could not believe her eyes at how the one unremarkable pony in the race had blasted forth, going from seventh place to sixth, fifth, fourth, third and finally into position right behind Thunder Run at the final turn.

Vinyl stood on the edge of her seat, unable to believe her sheer luck at having picked such a pony. Going into the final turn, Thunder had to slow down or else he would have flown into one of the clouds, but with the other pony on his tail, he did not slow down enough. He took the turn wide, allowing the other pony to eke out in front of him. By the time he realized what was going on, it was all over.

“...And it’s Lightfoot by three pony lengths followed by Thunder Run in second and Cloudstomper in third!”

“WOO! BUCK YEAH, BABY!” Vinyl cheered, startling just about every pony in the booth with her. She stood on her hind legs with her forelegs pumping the air in victory. Only when she could hear the light laughter coming from Flare did she stop and look at her. Feeling a blush come upon her cheeks, she quickly took her seat. “Sorry,” she muttered softly, head down to hide her reddened cheeks.

“Not a problem. Congrats, kid,” she chuckled, grabbing her shades in her blue magic and placing them on Vinyl’s forehead just below her horn.

“Wait... These are really mine?” Vinyl asked as she pulled them down over her eyes, adding a purple tint to the world once more.

“Yep, they are all yours, Kiddo,” she smiled. “Actually... I’m kind of relieved that you won them, to be honest.”

“Huh? Why’s that, Flare?”

Her smile faded into a slight frown before she looked away slightly. “Well... The thing is that, being a DJ was never a ‘forever’ thing for me, nor can it be for anypony, really. It’s... It’s time that I moved on to bigger and better things, you hear? I just wanted to make sure that there would be a pony out there worthy of filling in the void, I guess. The only reason I put my shades up on the line is because... Well, I believe in you, DJ P0n3.”

“Wait... What? Flare... What in Equestria are you talking about?” Vinyl questioned.

“I’m leaving the music business, but I wanted somepony worth it to get my shades first,” she said.

“No! You can’t! I can’t... I can’t take these from you!” She put a hoof to her face to take the shade off, but Flare placed her own upon her leg and looked her sternly in the eye.

“I wanted this, Vinyl. Don’t you bucking dare try to change my mind, okay? Those shades are yours, fair and square. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got somewhere to be. See you around, kiddo, and good luck.” Placing a hoof on the top of her head, the former DJ ruffled Vinyl’s mane before trotting out of the booth. Vinyl got up and tried to run after her, but by the time she got out into the hall, the mare was long gone, never to be seen again.

~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~

“Pony plop!” Colgate cried out in frustration as soon as the story had ended, causing Blind Charge to shrink in his seat a little since the only buffer between him and the mare was an equally perplexed, though probably not as outraged pony.

“What kind of crock was that?” Quick Fix spoke, probably trying to mediate the situation. “Charger, were you or Vinyl drunk or something? Come on and admit it. There’s no way that could have happened. We all know Vinyl Scratch couldn't win a bet to save her life.” She struck her brown hoof on the table twice for emphasis.

“Hehehe, Crock-a-doodle-doo,” Berry Punch giggled, having awoken during the story, but still quite drunk.

“Y-you both know I don’t drink alcohol,” Blind Charge defended himself.

“Maybe, but was VINYL sauced?” Quick retorted.

“No! I remember I checked.”

“Well, I know I heard something completely different,” Colgate spoke with a little less volume and anger. “There were definitely no ninjas, or winning any sort of wager, I can tell you that much.”

“Same here, and I’ve known Vinyl the longest out of anypony here,” Quick Fix replied, taking a sip of her sarsaparilla.

Octavia, meanwhile, sat there and listened while the friends argued amongst themselves. Why would Vinyl Scratch tell them different versions of the same story? She looked over to her quiet companion, but all Beauty Brass did was shrug. The cellist took her hoof to her chin and tapped it gently, trying to figure out this enigma.

“Okay, okay!” Blind Charge shouted, ending the din that had earned them looks from the other bar patrons. “I still say the story I heard is more credible than the one Berry told, but all right. I am willing to admit that maybe I got it wrong. Who’d like to tell Octavia the REAL story?”

“Oooh, me, me, me!” Colgate said eagerly, raising her hoof. “I haven’t talked nearly enough tonight! And besides, my story has great gossip material and is slightly scandalous!” she said with an almost foal-like squeal. Quick Fix arched her eyebrows at her friend, but simply took another sip of her drink instead of saying anything. Octavia could tell there was something on her mind, but she had no idea what.

“Before I start, let’s make friends,” the blue pony continued while reaching her hoof across the table to shake Octavia’s. “The name’s Dr. Colgate Minuette, DMD.”

Octavia had already touched her hoof when she heard it. “D-de-entist!” she squeaked and quickly recoiled from the other mare. A blush quickly surfaced on her grey cheeks from her rather foalish outburst. However, the dentist did not look perturbed.

“That’s right! Best damned dentist in all of Ponyville! Speaking of, do you floss? I thought I saw a bit of alfalfa between your molars earlier. I know you probably see somepony up there in fancy old Canterlot, but I can offer you a discount if you want to put your teeth in friendly hooves!” she smiled, her teeth glimmering in the lights once again.

“I don’t think she wants to spend an hour both ways just to go to the doctor’s, Toothpaste,” the brown mare said snidely.

The revelation of the nickname’s origin destroyed any sense of comfort that Octavia had gained with the group since she first sat down. It was not that she was afraid of dentists or anything, that would be silly, it was just that they made her… uncomfortable. Even if she didn’t have a mask on and was nowhere near a drill, the cellist could not help but imagine the blue pony pulling one out from under the table and abruptly ask her to say ‘ahh’.

“Eh, I guess you’re right,” Colgate relented. “Don’t worry about it, Octavia. I’m not working so you’re in no danger. Heh. You’d be surprised how many adults are afraid of the dentist, but I get them all to come around... eventually.”

“I uh… okay,” Octavia spoke, wearing a calm facade. “I suppose you’re going to tell me the proper origin of the sunglasses now?”

“Hahah, she said ‘asses’,” Berry snickered to herself.

“Yuh-huh! It all started back when I met Vinyl. Like Charger here, we met at Uni in Canterlot, but we were both fresh mares in our first year,” Colgate started.

“Yes, but if what Mr. Blind Charge said is true, then she’d be in engineering and you in medical school,” Octavia said.

“Please, don’t call me ‘mister’. Mister is my father’s name,” the stallion spoke up. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“Not at all,” the blue pony shrugged. “Well, normally you’d be right, Octavia, but we took the same elective course in the first year and sat next to each other. I think it was business management since I wanted my own practice and Vinyl, naturally, wanted to be a free agent DJ not tied to a label and ‘dancing like a corporate breezie’ as she would put it.”

“That does sound like something odd she would say, yes,” the cellist nodded.

“So yeah, unlike Blind, we hit it off almost immediately. She was the energetic and fun friend I needed to help get through the grind and, on important tests, she’d even sit outside in support if she didn’t have a test herself. But most importantly, she wouldn’t let me give up. Even when I was stressed to the point of quitting. She helped me because she knew it was my passion, even if my talent is more about timekeeping than dentistry.”

Octavia has wondered what that hourglass was there for if she was a… dentist. It was a common cutie mark to have, the more she thought about it. But generally, those with them did not go on to such disparaged and challenging careers. Yet apparently that deluded and insane mare could take a stand, and wouldn’t quit on a friend. “I think I know what you mean,” she replied. “When Vinyl is around, she won’t let me talk down to others. Most of the time, she humbles me, even.”

“Mmm,” Quick Fix vocalized, earning her some looks. “Oh, uh… I can see why she would do that. I mean, living in Canterlot around all those high class ponies from a very young age? They tend to drink the Pony Aid a lot, if you know what I mean.”

“I… suppose I do,” Octavia answered. “So… can we continue on with this, please?”

“Only if you promise to come in for an appointment.”

“Colgate!” the more lucid friends yelled.

“I’m kidding! Sheesh! But yeah, sure, we can continue,” she spoke after she took a last sip of her drink and set the glass aside. “Like Charger, she didn’t tell me the story until some time after she graduated, but she hadn’t really situated herself in the club scene. She was still going from club to club trying to find her place, you know? But yeah, I know this story is true since she told it to me during a long study session before finals, so she couldn’t come in drunk.”

“As long as it doesn’t have ninjas, I am willing to believe you,” Octavia smirked.

“All righty then. So, it all started at this club called the Canter Trot, someplace downtown. They were having a competition to find a new in-house DJ since their old one was arrested for having a hundred pounds of Poison Joke in his bag while flying to Clopperdam…”

~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~

Music filled her ears in the inky void as her body closed off all her other senses in an attempt to calm the panicked beating of her heart. Never in her life had she felt so nervous and tense. Not even being caught by the principal of her high school that one time, after playing a harmless little prank involving a bake sale and a gallon of laxatives, made her feel as uncomfortable as right in that moment.

Just listen to the music, Scratch, she thought in the midst of her quiet meditation. Listen to it, relax, and forget all about your worries. Then, when you are calm and collected, focus on your set list and everything will be fine. The white mare soon felt her heart slow down into a soft, steady rhythm as she was carried away by the rock and roll sounds, a hoof subconsciously tapping to the beat.

Normally, nothing would get her nervous since she was too cool to let anything phase her... most of the time. But this time was different, because not only was she here with her rivals to put on a show, but they were being judged on their performance too. And, as much as it hurt to think so, many of the ponies she was competing with were good. Vinyl shook her head, messing up her mane further and kept her eyes welded shut, determined not to leave her zone again after fighting to get into it.

After calming herself once more, she opened her eyes, seeing her reflection staring back at her from a mirror in front of her. The backstage was dark and relatively silent with not a soul around. Sure, there were rooms where the competitors could sit, eat and relax in quiet, but that was never her scene. She had to be where the action was, and this was as close as she could get to the stage without being on it herself.

She furrowed her brow and ran a hoof through her mane until it was just the right mixture of control and chaos for her liking. The mare in the mirror smiled and nodded her head in approval. “Lookin’ good, mare. Lookin’ real good!” she spoke in self-approval. “Who’s gonna rock this joint tonight? Well, what a stupid question is that? I am, of course! I got the skills, I got the tracks, and I certainly got the stones, filly! Those posers out back can bite my soft, white flank.” A sharp snap filled the air under the music when she spanked her own posterior to determine that it was true to her claim.

However, as she looked at her flank in the mirror, she noticed a strobe of colour coming from the inky blackness behind her. Turning around, she approached it cautiously, walking on the tips of her hooves to make as little sound as possible, which was not hard considering the volume of the music and the fact that the bass line was pounding in her chest already. Looking up and down the backstage area for any pony that might catch her, Vinyl gently inched her muzzle out from behind the curtain.

Coloured lights swept over the room in front of her as a sea of dark, huddled masses gyrated and moved to the beat. Occasionally, colours would flash from glowsticks they wore, like the twinkling of stars in the dead of night. The smell of sweat and liquor filled her nostrils as whoops and cheers were crushed under hoof by the powerful rock ballad being played. Vinyl could feel her tail swing in time, almost wanting to jump into the fray and lose herself to the music in a hypnotic trance.

However, she shook her head and caught herself before it was too late. “Damn, that jerk is good,” she muttered darkly to herself as she looked up at the pony on stage. He wore dark tinted sunglasses all the time, and not just for his shows. Of all the DJs she had ever met, he was the only one to wear a suit and profess to be professional at all times... on stage, at least. Off set, he was a loose cannon with a temper to match. More than once, she had found herself going hoof to hoof with him, and not in a musical sense.

DJ $tereo had to be her biggest competition in the whole city. Not only were they both working and living in the same territory, but they also specialized in similar genres of music. In the music industry, that was like putting two hungry lions into the same cage with a dead gazelle between them. Taking hold of her senses and seething quietly, she pulled her head behind the curtain once more as she realized something important.

“Celestia damn that no good bucker! I was going to use that song in my set! Now I have to go over the whole damned thing again and think of something else! Buck you, $tereo. Buck you to Tartarus and back!” she cursed relatively quietly.

Vinyl quickly trotted back to the plain mirror leaning against the wall and looked deeply into her reflection. “Okay. Calm down, Scratch. Your headline song is out, so what else do you have in your box of records?” she asked as she tapped her hoof against the floor. Never before had she needed to think up a five track set on the fly, but something told her that if she wanted to be a success in the business, she needed to learn fast.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on her mental collection of records and songs, album covers filling her mind. Track after track floated across her mental eye, but none of them felt really right for the crowd she had experienced not more than a couple of moments before. The idea of improvising a list had occurred to her more than once that evening, and it was becoming a more attractive prospect by the minute. But she had never done an impromptu set before!

As she weighed the pros and cons in her head, she did not hear the quiet sounds of the metal stage door opening down the way, or the light sound of hoofsteps against the wall of sound on the other side of the curtains. Her mind began to ache as she juggled the conflict and visualized her albums all at once. However, she never expected a light tapping on her side.

Startled, she screamed into the air and let out a very uncool shriek before falling back to Equestria. Looking up, she saw an apologetic unicorn stallion holding a clipboard in his white aura and a blush on his cheeks behind the headset he wore. “Uh... DJ P0n3?” he asked cautiously.

“What is it!?” she demanded, a little more tensely than she meant to get across.

“Uh... Y-You’re you have five minutes until you’re on stage, ma’am. I’m sorry I disturbed you. Bye!” he answered, speaking quickly by the end before retreating through the door he came from. Picking herself off the floor and brushing the dust off of her coat, Vinyl gave the door a piercing glare, for having her moment interrupted.

“Buck it, I’ll just improvise,” she said to nopony before using her ruby-tinted magic to bring over her boxes of records and albums. To pass the time before her set, she decided to look through her tracks as she usually did to push thoughts of the competition out of her head and avoid the stress. As she did, she could almost hear each song as her hoof touched the jacket covers.

Just as she was getting into her happy place, the roar of ponies startled her out of her revery. “Fillies and gentlecolts, that was DJ $tereo!” the MC yelled over the crowd on the loudspeakers. With one final cheer, the curtains parted before the grey unicorn colt as he sauntered backstage. “All right, but for serious now, I need you ponies to cheer loudly so we can see how many decibels you make. Give it up!”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t DJ P0n3 sniffing through the trash. Oh wait, those are your records,” the rival DJ sneered as he regarded the mare. “If you’re not going to join the current century, you might as well go home and leave this up to the STALLIONS, little filly.” He pulled down his shades, green eyes half poking out from behind them. “Face it; after my set, the only cheering those ponies are going to do for you is if you do a striptease.”

Vinyl would have loved nothing better than to jump him and show that smug face of his the underside of her hoof. However, there was a competition for a permanent job on the line, so getting into a fight would have to wait for later. “Tell me something, Smokey,” she replied with as sharp a tone she could muster. “How hard did your mother have to drop you to turn you from a normal colt into a misogynistic bastard? I’m only upset she didn’t drop you like the bass I’m gonna throw on these ponies, ‘cause then you’d be a literal slobbering idiot rather than figurative.”

“Well, Vinyl, at least I am not a delusional psychopathic mare.”

“No. That much is true. You’re a delusional, psychopathic co-”

“Thank you, everypony! Next up is an up-and-coming artist that has been sweeping Canterlot by storm. Give it up for DJ P0n3!” A smile crept on the mare’s face as the crowd cheered at her name. Rather than finish her scathing retort, she picked up her boxes with her magic and went up to the stage (adding a sharp snap of her tail at his flank as she passed, of course).

She did not bother to turn around and look when she heard him gasp slightly in pain, turning her nose up at him right before parting the curtain and stepping onto the stage. Passing through that curtain was like flipping a switch deep in her brain. All of a sudden, the petty rivalries, money worries, ego, and nervous tension were gone, making her every step feel as light as a feather.

The large, looming stereos flanked a complex mixing table that could accommodate almost any format of playable music from gramophone cylinders all the way up to those fancy new digital ports. For a pony with a mixed bag like her, such a setup was a Celestia-sent gift. “Hey there, fillies and gentlecolts!” she spoke into the microphone. “Ya havin’ a good time tonight?” The crowd cheered, making the unicorn grin. “Well, just sit tight and let me make it even better!”

Without looking, her magic enveloped two records from her collection and put them on the turntables as a pair of headphones wrapped around her ears. The instant the music started playing, a jolt of euphoria swept over her entire being as the result was immediate. Ponies on the floor immediately began to jump and dance as the bass hammered into Vinyl’s chest like a second heartbeat.

As she worked her magic, the crowd reacted perfectly to each new song and each twist she would add to it while leaving behind all thought of restraint or inhibition. For what felt like a short while, the only thing to exist in the world was the crowd, the music and Scratch herself. She was the conductor with the music as her baton and the audience as her instrument. Never before had she had this sense of power over such a large group of ponies, and she never wanted to stop. It was more intoxicating than the strongest liquor to her.

Before she knew it, her music and the crowd went silent, pulling her out of her high and throwing her unkindly back to Equestria as a bright spotlight shone upon her. Was the set already over? It only seemed like a scant few minutes, and she could not help but think she had been robbed of something incredible. “All right, ponies,” the MC said over the loudspeakers. “What do you all think of DJ P0n3?”

The resulting cheer nearly made her ears ring, even with the headphones still on... Or was that from the music? Either way, she was floored by the reaction as several patrons threw glowsticks into the air or stamped on tables just to make themselves as loud as possible. If she were not such a calm and collected pony, she might have blushed. Instead, her ever present grin only became wider and more confident.

“Wow! What a reaction! But hold your horses, since we still have two more DJs to listen to tonight. Thank you very much, P0n3, you may step off the stage now. Our next jockey comes all the way from sunny Las Pegasus...” The rest of his words drifted away from her mind as she stepped off the stage, putting her records away in a little pocket dimension she made for storing her equipment. She did not notice until then just how thirsty she was.

Vinyl trotted over to the bar breathing in the sweet scent of victory. Even if she did not win the contract, she knew that she had accomplished what she always set out to do: showing the ponies a good time. In the end, that was all that really mattered to her anyway. Of course, getting paid was nice too.

She sighed happily in relief as her flank made contact with the barstool and settled into the soft padding. “I’ll have a beer, please,” she asked one of the bartenders as they passed. As nice as it was to play music, she was happy to get off her hooves, especially as the excitement drained out of her and allowed her muscles room to protest. She stretched out and moaned under the sound of the music as they too sighed in relief.

“Don’t I know that feeling, kiddo,” some pony beside her said. “Nothing like doing a nice, long set and then getting hammered, right?” The voice was cheery and feminine, but jesting at the same time. Turning her head to get a look, Vinyl saw a white unicorn with a mane of two-tone purple done up in a mohawk. Looking into her orange eyes, she had no idea who she was talking to, for the mare was utterly unfamiliar to her.

“So... You’re a musician?” Vinyl asked.

“Yeah, kinda,” she replied as she took a glass in her ocean blue magic and downed it with a few swallows. Sitting on the bar, however, was something she had not noticed before. It was a pair of massive, purple tinted sunglasses. The shades gave her a very weird feeling, but then her beer came, so she shrugged it off as deja vu as she got down to the serious business of getting drunk.

The cogs in her brain stalled and chewed on those shades for some time as she quietly sipped her beer. Something about them seemed so familiar to her, but try as she might, she could not put her hoof on the how or the why. Just as she decided it was not important after all, her brain finally caught on. She spat out the last drops of her beer in her mouth, showering the bartender as she choked.

“Are you okay there, kid?” the pony asked, pounding her on the back to help her clear out the suds in her lungs.

“You’re,” she wheezed before coughing again. “You’re DJ Flare, aren’t you!?”

Contrary to expectations, the found-out celebrity only grinned at the figurative hoof pointed right at her. “One and the same, DJ P0n3. It’s a pleasure to meet ya.”

“Uh...” Vinyl stammered, trying and failing not to be star struck. “I uh... Yeah... It’s cool to meet you too,” she smiled awkwardly.

“I really liked your set, by the way. You must have spent hours trying to perfect it, the way you made the crowd, and even this old mare groove.” A genuine smile replaced her grin, warm and comforting. Vinyl quickly suppressed a blush she felt spread under her fur, not expecting praise like that from her inspiration.

“A-actually, I just kinda pulled it out of my rear,” she admitted. “I just brought out all of my records and put on what felt best at the time, I suppose.”

“Wow. That takes some real skill, filly. I’m actually a little bit jealous,” she giggled. “I could never improvise that well unless I was really high, drunk, or both at the same time. I can see why you have those notes as your cutie mark now.”

“Speaking of cutie marks, what is up with yours?” Scratch asked, pointing to her flank. The large, silver microphone almost blended in with the white fur. “Are you a singer? I mean, you never sing in any of your sets or anything like that.”

“Oh, that,” Flare smirked, surprisingly nonchalant about such a normally rude and unusual question. “It’s because I can sing and make funny voices, yeah. Imitating voices doesn’t really help when you’ve always wanted to be a DJ, but it gets your hoof in the door. Actually, it gets it in quite a few doors. I had to work really hard to get where I am, but let me tell you something, filly. You have TONS of talent for this, if this show is any indication.”

“Well... Gee... Thanks,” Vinyl stammered. She never expected such high praise from her idol. “I don’t know what to say.” Many minutes of relative silence passed between them as the other DJs took to the stage and performed their sets. The drinks flowed like water. Before either of them noticed, they were in each other’s embrace, singing quite badly.

“Ya... Ya know somethin’ ponthree?” Flare giggled after their shared ballad, leaning on the younger unicorn.

“Wuzzat?” the equally sauced mare slurred before hiccupping.

“Ah’ve only know yew fer a couple of hours... But you’re like... like a shishter I never hab!”

“R-really?”

“Mhm... If I were inta fillies, I’d be on ya like a fly on shit!”

Giggling drunkenly, the younger DJ pushed her off of her shoulder before breaking out into a full-on laugh, causing a look of befuddlement to wash over the other unicorn’s face. “But Flare, if yer like a shish ta me, den that whould be inshest!” The other unicorn looked stymied for a minute before she leaned over the counter and laughed just as hard.

“Oh my Cestya, that... That would be sho awkward!”

“Mhm. Imagine what ma and pa would say.” After a brief pause, they both broke down laughing, Vinyl hammering the wooden bar with her hoof as her body rocked with booze-addled laughter. “Oh, yer killin’ me Flare!”

“Fillies and Gentlecolts, it is time to announce the winner. Will all of the competitors please make their way to the stage?” Vinyl groaned reluctantly and got off of her seat, only to stumble and almost land on top of a pony passing by. The room kept spinning and she felt like she was going to fall down at any moment.

“Overdid it?” Flare asked as she too stumbled off of her stool, grabbing her shades shakily with her magic.

“A bit,” Vinyl said. “Can ya help meh up onto the shtage?”

“Shure, jus lean on meh.” Without a word of protest, the sauced DJ leaned against her inspiration and slowly walked through the crowd and up to the stage. If it were not for the booze flooding her system, she probably would have been nervous from all the eyes burrowing into her both on and off the stage. However, the bliss of intoxication meant that she did not give a flying feather what they thought of her.

Vinyl’s usual grin only became wider when the other ponies on the stage saw who she was with. Next to Flare, they were all wet-behind-the-ears foals scratching records with their rears. Sadly, she did not get a good look at her rival, $tereo, and what she figured had to be a contorted mixture of rage and jealousy because at the time she was much more focused on trying to stand up.

Once everypony was on the stage, a smart looking earth pony stallion in a dark suit took the stage and trotted up to the microphone with a piece of paper in hoof. With but a single gesture, the crowd became deathly silent before he cleared his throat. “In third place, with a score of one hundred and one decibels, we have DJ W1shdream!” Applause filled the air as the stallion took a bow for his audience, a look of worn disappointment on his face, but with hints of determination for the future.

“Our first runner up... with a score of one hundred and ten decibels is... DJ $tereo!” Unlike his counterpart, the irritating colt did not even try to hide his disappointment, or his indignation. Even in her addled state, Vinyl knew he had plans to contest the results to satisfy his over-inflated ego and sense of self-worth.

“Now, before I announce the winner of the grand prize, and the contract with this club, I would just like to say thank you to all of the talented ponies who came out tonight, and to you folk out there for being our judges. Now, without further ado; the grand prize! At an amazing one hundred and fifteen decibels... the winner of the contest is... DJ... Pon3!”

Shock flowed through her system, quickly flushing the alcohol out, at least for the moment. Did the MC make a mistake? Did she actually just win her first contract at the very same place that her idol, the very pony helping her keep her balance, got her start? “Holy buck,” was all she could say, eyes widened before she felt a nudge in her flank. Turning her head, her bleary eyes caught sight of the older disk jockey for only a moment before her world became tinted by purple and the mare’s face so close she could have sworn she felt their lips touching.

/***\/***\/***\

“Woah, woah, woah woah!” Blind Charge called out. “That’s enough of that, Toothpaste! Keep it PG!”

“Come on, we’re all adults here!” Colgate retorted. “I don’t see any foals around, do you?”

“Well, I know that story is an outright fabrication, even without hearing the end,” Quick Fix said while setting her now empty glass of sarsaparilla down. “Vinyl is not an in-your-muzzle fillyfooler when she’s drunk, and she’s certainly not a suave enough drunk to land a pony in bed.”

“I don’t know about that,” Octavia added before taking a sip of her coffee. “I’ve lived with her for nearly a year now, and I have known her to bring a fair few ponies home for the night, stallion or mare. One time, she even brought home a rather pleasant cow too.”

“Huh, you’d think she’d really milk that achievement for all it’s worth,” tittered Berry Punch.

“Maybe now, but not back then,” the brown stallion said, all present ignoring the sauced mare.

“Regardless, I think I speak for the peanut gallery when I say that story is probably a lie. I mean no offence to you, Toothpaste, but Vinyl in high school developed quite the knack for taking… liberties with the truth,” Quick Fix continued.

“Okay, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is, Wrench, and tell us the undeniably REAL story as to how Vinyl got those Celestia-damned shades,” Colgate said in a huff, resting against the seat of the booth with her front legs crossed.

“Why certainly, my dear mare,” the tan unicorn spoke before shimmying out of the stall.

“Where are you going?” Beauty Brass asked before Octavia could ask the same thing.

“I’m going to get a refill. Besides, we’re still missing Lye so I need to stall at least a little. I hope things went all right with Bonnie,” she replied before heading back to the bar. The feeling of the group had changed drastically since they had all started. Somehow, Octavia could sense that being told different stories was causing tension, as togetherness and harmony were replaced by unease and confusion.

“So, Octavia, do you like stickers? If you let me clean your teeth, I’ll give you a sheet. I even have one with cellos on them,” Colgate said with a sing-song tone at the end and a smile on her face.

Octavia blanched, and took another drink from her glass, wishing it was something stronger. She hoped Miss Fix would get back before her teeth were literally in the dentist’s hooves.

Coda

Of all the things to surprise her over the last few days, Octavia found the fact that Vinyl Scratch’s friends were somewhat normal ponies topping her list. She had assumed that they were all hooligans at first, and while she had yet to be completely disproved, most of them seemed… palatable. At least in small doses, like the current venue she shared with them.

Berry Punch had resumed drinking at her end of the table, a mob of empty bottles of whiskey starting to congregate around their drunken consumer. But Octavia was hard-pressed to say anything bad about her; Celestia knows she’d probably drink just as heavily if she dealt with what the lavender mare had.

Beside the souse sat a blue unicorn known as Colgate Minuette, who tapped an empty glass of brandy with her hoof to create a clinking noise out of boredom. Outside of her chosen profession, which caused the cellist to shudder just thinking about, she found her rather much like Vinyl. She had yet to determine how bad that was.

“I know it’s not true, but I liked the story with the ninjas the best,” came a small voice from above the din. Looking to her side, Octavia saw that her friend Beauty Brass had a half-finished glass of water close at hoof. “I mean… no offence to the others, but at least it was more exciting than a DJ contest or winning a bet.” The cellist noticed a bit of a blush on her friend’s cheeks as she took another sip. Perhaps it was not water after all.

“It’s a typical Drunk Vinyl story,” Blind Charge said with an added shrug. “They usually start out plausible before descending into some kind of madness. Why, I remember one story she told where she went to the bank, and by the end it turned into a tale about how she saved the world from Discord using what she called a ‘Bass Cannon’!” He laughed.

Meanwhile, an uncomfortable churning gurgled in the pit of Octavia’s stomach when the term ‘Bass Cannon’ reared its ugly head. While the others shared a laugh, visions of court summons and pleas for bail money danced in her head.

“I’ll admit, that’s a real humdinger there, Charger,” Colgate spoke. “However, I don’t think it tops this ONE Drunk Vinyl story. It started off with her playing a videogame that somehow killed the world, made her a goddess and then she had to fight a giant space snake before she recreated the world and shed her immortality. I plop you not.”

There was a pause of shock and awe before everypony but the cellist started to laugh even louder, Berry going so far as to double over and pound the table with tears welling up in her eyes. “Okay, okay, you win!” she said with an undeniable slur in her voice. Octavia, however, was just confused by the reminiscing.

“It’s a very long story though; it’d take a whole night to tell, and since we’re doing the sunglasses stuff, it’ll have to wait,” the den---oral health practitioner said.

“Speaking of, Wrench sure is taking her sweet time getting that refill,” the stallion of the group spoke.

“Well, excuse me for needing to visit the Mare’s Room to powder my muzzle, you impatient lug,” Quick Fix said before shimmying past him into the booth.

“Yeah, but you were gone for, like, ten minutes! It should only take, like two or three tops to use the bathroom and get a refill.”

“You cannot rush a lady, Charger,” she replied with a snap of her tail to his muzzle.

“If yer a lay-dy, I’m a vermishus knid!” Berry slurred with an added giggle.

“Um… Pardon?” Octavia asked, not quite sure what she was trying to say.

“Inside joke, Octavia. Just leave it,” Colgate answered.

The cellist knew better than to pursue, so she left it at that. In the meantime, an argument had flared up between the tan unicorn and the brown pegasus on proper etiquette while using the facilities. If the circumstances were not so dire, Octavia may have just paid her dues and left right then. But sadly, she was there for a reason that was not quite satisfied.

Seeing the argument become more heated as the moments passed, Octavia cleared her throat loudly to cut through the din. “Excuse me,” she said when she captured their attention. “But I believe you were just about to tell me the true story of how Vinyl Scratch came into possession of those tacky sunglasses.”

“Oh. Uh… Sorry,” Quick Fix replied with a blush developing on her tan cheeks. “I got a little carried away there. Stallions and the bathroom, you know?”

“I am quite aware,” the grey mare in the pink bow tie replied before taking a sip of her coffee. “Can we please get this over with? It’s starting to get close to dinner now, and I’d rather settle this matter sooner rather than later.”

“Ah, right, sorry,” Quick Fix apologized. “Do you want me to start from how I met Vinyl?”

“If you would, please.”

“All right,” she said before taking a sip of her new glass of sarsaparilla. “I actually met Vinyl back in highschool on the first day, during orientation if I’ve got it right. She and Lye decided to sit beside me in the auditorium, but we didn’t become friends for a little while, like with Charger, but not because of awkwardness. We just didn’t have any of the same classes and… well… I was a bit of a nerd and… eh, let’s just say Vinyl’s actually toned down on the insanity with age.”

“Wait, so… are you saying she was actually worse than she is right now!?” Octavia balked.

Quick Fix nodded her head and smiled. “Yeah, but it wasn’t all bad. I mean, I was a nerd, right? I was a prime target for bullies. In fact, we became friends because she saw what was going on and didn’t take kindly to- Lye!”

Suddenly, all heads turned towards the door after the outburst. So at last, the final hooligan arrives. I wonder what this one did to earn her- but Octavia’s thought stopped dead in its tracks when she turned to see the pony who had arrived. She was a unicorn mare with a mint green coat and two-tone mane of white and bluish sort of green. But what really struck Octavia was her amber eyes and the lyre cutie mark on her flank.

As soon as their eyes met, the unicorn shared a similar expression of shock, though Octavia could not see her own face. “YOU!” both mares said simultaneously as the shock wore off and deep scowls replaced their looks of surprise.

“What in Tartarus are you doing here!?” Octavia shouted as she stepped out of the booth to face the green mare.

“I live here, you boorish snob. What’s got you down from your lofty perch in Canterlot?” the mare replied with equal fire.

“You live in a bar? Somehow that seems rather fitting. Your playing has always sounded like you were a little sauced.”

“I mean I live here in Ponyville now, you twit.”

“Stop it!” Beauty Brass, of all ponies, shouted. “Before you offend all of the patrons by saying something demeaning about this town, just stop.” The bar went quiet from the argument, all eyes upon the seven ponies in the corner. Octavia, to her credit, simply huffed and sat down in the booth again rather than give the minty mare a much-earned piece of her mind. After all, she was the better mare, in more ways than one.

“Wait… You know Lyra already, Octavia?” Colgate asked with a slightly stunned expression upon her face.

“Yes,” the cellist said coldly. “Lyra Heartstrings and I are rivals, to put it nicely.”

“I’d like to point out that it’s you who causes the problems, Octavia,” the green mare parried while sidling in past her to sit between Berry and Beauty. “It’s your attitude that rubs me the wrong way, since you act oh so high and mighty because you’re nobility and we all must PRAISE you like peasants.”

“I have never said that in all my life!” she retorted, throwing her hooves onto the table and standing up to stare her down.

“Clean the wax out of your ears. I never said that, I said that’s what your attitude implies, and your reaction is prime evidence,” Lyra smirked.

Octavia fumed and slowly sat back down, grabbing her cup with her hooves and taking a generous sip of coffee. If there was one pony more annoying to her in all Equestria than Vinyl Scratch, it was Lyra Heartstrings. A dark recess of her mind quipped that it was fitting they would be friends, if only just to get her proverbial goat.

“Not that it’s my business, but it sounds like there is a lot of bad blood between you two,” Blind Charge said. No pony elected to respond for a while.

“Well… Octavia does have a snide streak a mile wide, no offence, and Ms Heartstrings has a tendency to get heated easily, so yes.” Beauty Brass said quietly. What followed was another long stream of awkward silence as Octavia glared at Lyra, who was only too happy to oblige and reciprocate the gesture.

“Octavia hasn’t been as bad as all that, Lyra, so chill, okay?” Colgate tried to mediate.

Lyra looked at her friends and gave an exasperated huff. “For your sakes and for Vinyl’s sake, I’ll still my tongue. But only so long as Ms Melody here can keep civil and not talk down to my friends,” she said with a pointed look.

“As Toothpaste said, she’s been fine. A far sight better than most Canterlot ponies anyway, no offence,” Blind Charge added.

“So… uh… may I please continue?” Quick Fix said with studied calm, probably hoping not to reignite an argument.

“By all means, please,” Octavia said, choosing to just flat-out ignore her irksome rival.

“To reiterate, I was a bit of a nerd growing up, so in high school I got bullied, mostly by mares, for the usual stuff. One day, I was cornered by three of the worst offenders at Canterlot High when Vinyl decided to intervene. Now, to her credit, she told them to buzz off before kicking their flanks. After that, she started hanging out around with me at lunch and stuff. At first, it was just so ponies could see me with one of the cool mares, but we soon found a rapport and were genuine friends thereafter.”

“I remember that quite vividly,” Lyra added. “It was the first time Vinyl really ever took a stand for anypony, actually. Before that she was quite content to just watch or do nothing. I was quite proud to be her friend after that.”

“You’ve known Ms. Scratch longer than Ms Quick Fix?” Beauty Brass questioned.

“Since we were yearlings, pretty much. Our parents were social with one another, so they’d use playdates as an excuse for them to share gossip,” she replied.

“Okay, so when did she tell you about the sunglasses?” Octavia asked as if neither her chief adversary nor friend had spoken.

“Second year at CHS,” Quick Fix replied. “It was the year before she acquired her taste for partying, creative lies, and underage drinking, so you can be sure she was sober when she told me this one and that it has to be true. Unlike all of her other stories… it’s a bit sad.”

“How do you mean?” Both Octavia and Lyra said together.

“Well, for starters… sompony kind of dies,” she responded before taking a drink of her sarsaparilla. “No nameless ninjas or ascended idols either. A legitimate death is involved in the story.” Suddenly, the air around them took a serious and calm turn. Even Lyra looked a little shocked out of the corner of Octavia’s eye.

“Could you please begin?” the cellist asked.

“Sure. I remember… It happened not too long after Vinyl got her cutie mark…”

~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~

It was a calm and quiet afternoon at Hanging Heights Park in Canterlot. The skies were blue and the wind gently caressed the fur of ponies who wandered and played among the trees and the grass of the sanctuary. Though it was built upon the side of a cliff, affording spectacular views of the Canter Valley all the way to the Everfree Forest, most ponies found the park a wonderful way to get some fresh air even if they were averse to heights.

One such pony wandered off the beaten paths and away from the noisy and congested areas, preferring quiet and solitude over the sounds of foals squealing in delight on the playground. A sick feeling developed in the pit of the filly’s stomach as she realized she had missed her chance to be social in such a way. Now, she was expected to act more like a boring, snooty old adult! Why couldn’t she have fun!?

The small pony gave the nearest tree a dirty look and, after checking to see that nopony would notice, gave it a swift buck… which earned her a sharp pain since she was not in the best of shape. She hobbled away, as tears threatened to well up in her eyes, to find a place to shake off the pain. If she had only known getting her cutie mark would involve so much responsibility thrown upon her, she would have slacked off and waited until she was older. Stupid ambition.

But as much as she wanted to be mad at herself, it would do little to help her. As the old proverb said, she had made her hay stack, and now it was time to rest in it. “What am I going to do?” she asked herself as she lay upon the grass, hidden from the world. “Being responsible isn’t as fun as I thought.”

From beyond the leaves and branches of the bush ahead, Vinyl Scratch could stick her muzzle through the thicket and see the playground populated by ponies… and not a single one of them sporting a cutie mark. She wanted to go out and play with them and damn the consequences… but mother always said that common ponies were more prone to illness and Vinyl did not want to get sick.

Heck, lying down in the grass as she was had probably invited all manner of filth and disease upon her. If only she were not afraid of stares at her new cutie mark, she would push the concerns of her worry-wart dam aside and go join them. But she could not because they WOULD stare at the tied eighth notes now emblazoned in her coat and skin.

Vinyl let a quiet sigh escape her and pulled her face away. Coming here had been a mistake, she realized. If the cutie mark did not ostracize her immediately, than her awkwardness would surely push them away. And if that did not happen, then their parents would be intimidated by her status. “I guess I’d better get to practice,” she sighed again while picking herself up.

However, before she could take more than a step back home, she heard a strange noise coming from somewhere behind her as an unexplained wind picked up. Although she did not know it at the time, the sound was very much like a key being scraped along a length of piano wire. But sound was from from her mind, as she focused on what she was seeing. A blinking light had appeared next to a tree and with every pulse of the blinking light, a shape became clearer.

Vinyl rubbed her magenta eyes in disbelief at what she was seeing as the sound subsided and the light stopped blinking. The object was as tall as Princess Celestia and as blue as the darkest ocean depths. Along each side of the box, she could see the words ‘Public Police Call Box’ painted in black upon a white background. She stood still for several moments, waiting for the box to make the first move, but her little mind kept thinking, What in Tartarus is THIS!?

Her question would soon be answered as the door to the box opened with a click and out stepped a pony. Vinyl was instantly blown away by their appearance, but not in the bad way expected of a pony of her status. The mare who stepped out had a mane of two-tone purple swept back into a mohawk and a coat almost as white as the filly’s. A kind smile was upon her face as amber eyes seemed to glisten in the light of the sun. Vinyl was in awe.

“Greetings, little Vinyl!” she beamed. “You don’t know me yet, but I’m The Doctor. But for now, you can call me Alto Harmony. Or DJ Flare. I have a few aliases in this body!”

Vinyl stood with her mouth agape, still trying to process this mare’s appearance. Never mind her strange disposit- “Wait,” she said, interrupting her own train of thought. “DJ Flare as in… as in the crazy pony on the news that mom told me is a bad influence?”

Her smile only broadened. “One and the same, kiddo! I don’t bite though, hell, I LOVE foals! I’ve even been a mother a few times. But uh… that’s neither here nor there. I’m here ‘cause I wanted to introduce you to someone, little Vinyl Scratch.”

The filly’s eyes widened in shock. “H-how do you know my name!?” she stuttered.

“I’m going to let my friend answer that,” the mohawk pony said before stepping aside.

In the doorway of the box was another adult mare with a white coat. But this one had a mane of two-tone blue done up like a hedgehog in a windstorm had perched upon her head. She had a grin that, frankly, creeped the little pony out. But the most striking feature about her was a pair of purple sunglasses covering her eyes. “Hey, no need to be afraid, filly,” the mare spoke with the grin fading in an instant.

There was silence as Vinyl backed up, having watched commercials on tv about this situation before. “I know we’re strangers, and ma said to never talk to them, but please,” she said, pulling off the shades to reveal a striking pair of magenta eyes. “Hear me out for, like, ten seconds. Okay, Vee?”

Vinyl paused in her retreat and looked at the strange adult curiously. “Only mother and father call me that. How did… how did you know?”

The strange mare smiled and lowered her head in close, lifting her hair to show a scar that ran above her eye. “I got this when I was your age, filly. I was playing hide and seek with my friend and hid under the piano in the den. Lyra snuck up on me and scared me, so I bashed my head on the corner. Hurt like hell for weeks afterward.”

“So… wait… Lyra?” the filly spoke, with her eyes slowly widening. “Are… are you saying that you’re… me!?”

“I told ya I was a sharp cookie, Doc,” the older Vinyl beamed as she looked at Alto.

The strange pony nodded her head and smiled. “Yes, I can certainly see the resemblance… but we really should do what is needed and go. Interacting with your own timeline for too long is never a good thing, Vee.”

“Oh. Right, right,” the older Vinyl said while nodding her head in agreement. “Listen, little me. We came back in time because I wanted to give you these.” She floated the sunglasses down in front of her filly self.

“Why are you giving me a pair of cheap sunglasses?” Vinyl inquired, earning a snicker and chortle from the doctor pony.

“Hahahaha~! Even you think they’re cheap!” Alto Harmony said in between fits of laughter.

The older Vinyl Scratch grumbled and shot her companion a dirty look before turning her attention back to the filly. “Yeah, okay. So maybe they look a little cheap. So what? The point is, there shades are important, Little Vee.”

“How are they important? It looks just like plastic to me,” she replied, earning another round of mirth from the madmare.

Her doppelganger applied a hoof to her forehead and groaned while mumbling something that sounded vaguely like ‘foals theses days’ to the little filly’s ears. “Okay, fine!” she grumbled. “They might be cheap and plastic, but the point is, they’re charmed to help you see the way to your destiny as the best DJ in the whole Celestia-damned world!”

The younger Scratch looked at the tacky shades hovering in front of her for a moment. “Why would I want to be a disk jockey,” she said with some revulsion. “Mom says they smell and are criminals.” There was more laughter as a blush developed upon the older version’s cheeks.

It took a moment for the blush to subside, but when it did, she smiled genuinely at the filly. “You choose to become a DJ because it helps you make friends. Honest, loving friends outside of just Lyra Heartstrings.” She looked up at the pony sporting the mohawk. “Friends can make all the difference in your life.

Vinyl looked over the sunglasses with a bit more of a keen eye and took them into her own magical grasp to examine them for any curses or hexes, but found nothing amiss with them. “So… these sunglasses will… they’ll help me make friends?” she asked, looking up at the two adult ponies with hope and only a little trepidation.

“Mhm,” they both said while nodding their heads in confirmation. If she were a little older, she would have been too cautious to do so, but the filly took the sunglasses and placed them upon her face, tinting the world a shade of magenta. But with this new color was something else… almost like a glowing, sparkly path that was guiding her to something… something back home.

“Well, I think our job here is done,” Alto Harmony said with a smile. “You’d better run along home, little…” but she was cut off by a rustle in a bush and a mechanical whirl, causing her eyes to widen. “Get down, hide and don’t make a BUCKING noise!” she hissed in a whisper.

“Hu-” she started, but was cut off by the older version of herself covering her mouth and moving her into a bush. She wanted to run away from whatever it was, but, for some reason, she trusted this pony claiming to be her and did as she was told without a fuss.

“What are you doing here, scum?” the stranger pony said, pulling out a weird metal device from her mane with her red magic. In front of the two older ponies was what seemed like a brass canister on wheels with a plunger, eggbeater and some kind of microphone sticking out of it. It was almost as tall as the blue box, but the only thing blue on it was on the microphone sticking out of it.

“I have cornered you, Doctor. Prepare to be EX-TERM-INATED!” the foul device spoke with an ear-splitting staccato that made the filly cover her ears in fright. Yet, she could see the strange pony remain unflinching in front of her, even if the so-called future Vinyl looked ready to run into the box.

“Oh please,” she said, tail whipping to the side once as they stood with their backs to the little filly protectively. “Literally thousands of you have tried to kill me in the past. What makes you think you can do it?”

“Because I have nothing to lose!” The tin can shouted with blinking lights. The whirling sound became louder and the blue glowing microphone turned red. “Detonation sequence activated. Goodbye, Doctor!”

“VINYL!” The stranger shouted, shoving the other pony out of the way and towards the blue box right before the strange brass can exploded into a thousand bits. The filly squealed in fright and shrunk into as tight a ball as she could muster as the percussion of the blast thumped into her tiny chest like a hammer.

When the dust cleared, the filly poked her head out from the bush to see the older Vinyl rushing over to the other mare, who lay upon the ground, bleeding heavily. “Alto! Doctor!” she cried as she rolled her over, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. “Say something, please!?”

“S-stand back,” she said weakly as something that looked like golden magic seeped from her wounds. The older mare did so, and just in time as golden light rocketed out of her eyes, mouth, nose and other possible points of escape like many jets of water. If it were not for the sunglasses, the filly would not have been able to see the spectacle for blinding light. With a final flash of light, the mare upon the ground was replaced… by a stallion.

“Ugh, that always feels weird,” he said as he stood up and shook out his mane. He was a brown stallion with a short and spiky mane and tail with eyes as blue as oceans. “Let’s see what we have to work with,” he said as he started to feel himself. “Great. Still not a ginger… and I’m a stallion again, so that might make things a bit awkward. Ha-ha. Tail? Short. Hearts? Two… I don’t like the shape of my stomach though,” he said as he looked between his legs at it. “Ah! Hello, little Vinyl!”

“YEEK!” she squealed and jumped out from the bush. That was far too much weirdness for her; she needed to get home where things made sense. Even as the so-called older version of her told her to wait, she was not going to stick around for more. And so Vinyl Scratch ran and ran and ran some more until she was safely at home and curled up under her bed.

~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~

“Oh, come on!” Colgate shouted in indignation the moment the story had finished. “You said your story was ‘reasonable’! My PLOT it was reasonable!” Her forehooves were upon the table, standing in anger as she looked around at her friends. “Even Berry’s drunken ramble makes more sense, for the love of Celestia!” She shouted while gesturing at their inebriated friend.

“Actually, it’s funny,” Blind Charge spoke, earning him looks from all present, and a piercing gaze from the real doctor in the room. “I-I mean to say that I’ve seen a pony like that before. The er, stallion I mean. He hangs out with Derpy all the time, too. I think he’s named Time Turner though. Town Chronographer and all.”

“Um… What’s a ‘Chronographer?” Beauty Brass asked. Her bottle of liquid had long since drained and a very, very slight blush had developed on her cheeks.

“It-” Octavia started, but found herself quite suddenly interrupted.

“A Chronographer is in charge of keeping all the public clocks in a town or city running on time according to that city or town’s timezone,” Lyra said. “Oh. Sorry, Octavia.”

She did not say a word to the minty unicorn. Instead, Octavia delivered a sharp and icy glare that communicated her offence quite eloquently. She feared that if she opened her mouth, she would start yet another argument at the table, since Colgate and Quick Fix were becoming quite heated.

“If you will let me Celestia-damned finish!” the brown mare shouted suddenly, silencing her friend while simultaneously bringing more looks over to their table. “If you will let me finish,” she repeated with a little less volume. “Then I will tell you that it was not all that Vinyl said to me on the subject.”

“What do you mean, Wrench?” the lone stallion said curiously.

“Well, you all got lengthy little tales. I wanted my turn to tell a story, so I borrowed the one Vinyl told me when -I- said that it could not have been all!”

“So you strung us along? Very endearing of you,” the grey mare said flatly with a level gaze in her eyes. “Perhaps next time you should cut to the chase before giving us a time-filling, and rather stupid, farce of a tale.”

“Okay,” the brown pony conceded, taking a new glass of sarsaparilla to her lips. “In reality, Vinyl told me that she got them at the park and found them lying in the grass, behind the bushes, near the playground a few days after she got her cutie mark. I’m sorry for leading you all on like that, but you got to tell exciting stories and I didn’t want to be the boring one.”

“Huh. Okay. Yeah, that’s probably the story then,” Blind Charge said after taking a sip from his glass. “I mean, it’s certainly the most credible one we have so far.”

“It’s a shame that it’s wrong though,” Lyra and Octavia said simultaneously, causing them to look at each other.

“Wrong? What do you mean?” Quick Fix asked as she looked between the two ponies.

“Sorry, but if Vinyl Scratch found them on the ground, why are they important enough for her to buck me in the face over them?”

All eyes turned to Lyra as she nearly choked on her drink, earning a hearty slap on the back from Berry Punch to help her clear her airways. “She… She assaulted you!? YOU, Octavia Melody!?” she said with abject horror.

“Yes, I thought we discussed this before,” Octavia said while quirking an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t told THAT! This… This changes everything,” the minty mare said as she looked around the table and then down to her drink. “Vinyl… you’d never know it, but she thinks the world of you, Octavia. Totally in a platonic sense, but… she really sees you as a friend and… well… she’d never EVER hurt her friends. She’d sooner die and… this is making too much sense!”

“Whatchu talkin’ bout, mare?” Berry slurred as everypony at the table continued to stare.

“I… I’ve known Vinyl all of my life. Tartarus, we’re practically sisters at this point! We know all of each other’s dirty secrets. She even figured out I was gay before I even knew it! If Vinyl had just yelled at you and gone off to drink her sorrows away, I would have just left it at this… but for her to hurt you… she’d never forgive herself.”

Everypony else sat in silence as she talked, not daring to interrupt. Even Octavia was a little surprised that she was so distressed over something like this. She figured Vinyl and physical assault went hoof-in-hoof, given her disposition and rather… assertive nature. “So… I am to take it that you know the properly true story, Miss Heartstrings?” she asked.

“Mhm,” Lyra nodded in confirmation. “I was there, for better or worse. All your stories took place after the fact. That’s plenty of time for her to come up with some bullplop. But… before I tell you about Vinyl’s past, I need to know what she told all of you. There’s probably something in common with them all, and I have a suspicion what, but I need to know for sure.”

“I don’t think Grape is conscious enough to tell her story again, Lye,” Colgate said. She prodded the sauced mare with her hoof, earning a tittering of giggles and squeals before she lounged on the bench kicking.

“I think I can recollect her version well enough,” Octavia spoke before taking a sip of what she promised to be her last coffee of the evening.

“Yay! I liked the Ninja one the best! Come on, Octavia, do it some justice!” Beauty Brass cheered with her voice a little louder than normal.

“Well, to make a long story short, since I doubt we all want to sit through the long version again, Vinyl was at a… what was it, National Music something or other?”

“The Musical Arts Convention?” Blind Charge suggested with a little hesitation.

“Yes, yes. That was it,” the Canterlot pony affirmed. “She was at the Musical Arts Convention in Manehatten to get her name as an ‘artist’ out there or something. Berry wasn’t clear on her motivations. At any rate, she got into line to get an autograph from some pony she admired. A fellow disk jockey called DJ Flame or something else as inane.”

“DJ Flare.” Colgate said to correct her.

“Yes. DJ Flare. She got to the head of the line and the pony there said she was impressed by a performance she did and that they should do lunch. As she stepped away, some pony emerged from the crowd saying he’d get revenge on her for doing unsavoury things to their idol or whatnot. They started fighting and Vinyl got involved in the fray and they fought the… ninjas… off together until the disk jockey revealed herself as an alicorn goddess, defeated them all and then disappeared, but not before giving Vinyl her sunglasses.”

“Huh,” Lyra said with her eyes slightly widened and jaw slightly dropped. “Okay, that’s one of the more interesting ones I’ve heard. Not because it’s so outlandish, but because it’s mostly true.”

“WHAT!?” Octavia shouted in a mixture of horror and wonderment.

“I mean, Vinyl did go to the Musical Arts Convention one year and she did see some ponies she really wanted to, but there was no DJ Flare there. The ninjas, however, were really there.”

“I… I’m sorry, I think you lost us, Lyra,” Quick Fix stammered.

“Apparently, in the hall next to the MAC, there was some kind of ninjutsu convention. The temporary wall between the two broke down and they mingled a bit. Heck, Vinyl learned a few moves off a Neighponese ninja who was rather fluent in Equestrian Equish.”

“That… is so awesome,” Beauty Brass breathed. “I like that version MUCH better!” A smile was instantly plastered on her face.

Octavia, however, continued to stare at Lyra as if she had grown another head from her posterior. She was not alone either, as most of the ponies continued to stare at her a little bit as the weight of her words finally began to sink in. Now she was even more confused, even with the promise of the true story dangling in front of her muzzle.

“Who had the next one?” Lyra asked.

“Um… That was me,” Blind Charge said as he raised his hoof. “I don’t think it’s true in any way though, because, well, Vinyl’s not good with wagers.” He paused, waiting for a response from anypony else, maybe even somepony willing to tell his story for him, since he was swaying a little in his seat.

“Er right… Well… Vinyl went to the Aerodrome in Canterlot a short while after getting her first steady gig on the club scene in mine. She was looking to waste a few bits on betting on the Pegasus races there and paid for a box seat since it was raining and she could afford it. Up there, she ran into a pony called… DJ Flare… and they placed a wager on the race where if she won, she would get Vinyl’s custom subwoofers and if Vinyl won, she’d get the sunglasses. Vinyl’s pony won after trailing or a bit.

“After that, the other DJ said that she wanted to retire anyway and giving up her shades was an easy out, and that she was glad to see them go to Vinyl. She left the booth and was never seen again.”

Having been privy to all of the stories before, the gears in Octavia’s mind began to spin and bring her brain up to a caffeine-aided sprint. All of the stories had a common thread connecting them, now that she noticed. Looking into Lyra’s eyes, she could see a similar burn of recognition, though she probably just wanted to hear all the other stories to be sure before committing. She could respect that.

“Hrm,” the minty mare mused. “Vinyl can’t gamble, that’s for sure… but she sure can pick the winner of a race when she isn’t worried about winning or losing anything. I do recall going to see a race with her and the weather was pretty bad, so that’s about all that is true.

“Since we’re going in order anyway, I’ll tell my story next!” Colgate chirped eagerly, waving her hoof back and forth like a little filly needing the mare’s room.

“Okay, go for it, Toothpaste.”

The mare smiled, letting her bright teeth shine before she dug into her story once more. “In my version, Vinyl got her sunglasses during a competition at the Canter Trot club where they were auditioning for the spot of in-house DJ, since the old one was arrested for possession! Vinyl was pretty nervous and couldn’t think up her setlist because DJ $tereo was being a twit. So she went up there and did her set and rocked the joint before she met up with DJ Flare at the bar. They got drunk together and went on stage to hear the winner and of course Vinyl won! And then they all fu-”

“I think we get the picture, Miss Minuette,” Octavia interrupted before she could finish her tactless sentence.

“Doctor Minuette. I didn’t spend six years in medical school and three years being an intern to be called ‘miss’. Thank you very much,” she snipped with a pointed glare.

“My apologies, Doctor Colgate,” the grey cellist replied, earning another smile from the mare across the table.

“You know, I’m still willing to take you on as a patient,” she said eagerly in a sing-song voice. Octavia speedily retreated from her, pressing her back into the stall’s cushion.

“All right, I think I’ve got it, and no, I don’t need to hear yours again, Wrench,” Lyra spoke when there had been enough of an awkward silence. “As I suspected, it all came down to one thing. Vinyl is a good liar. It’s a skill we both picked up from our mothers, actually. It’s because she adds nuggets of truth to make it plausible… well… now at least. Back in high school she was quite bad at lying.”

“To her credit,” Quick Fix started, “she only told me the time pony version when I didn’t take too well to her ‘found them in the bushes’ explanation.”

“Needless to say, I get the feeling that is an outright lie. Correct, Lyra?” Octavia said. She reasoned that, starting out, Vinyl would give short explanations to lie rather than intricate stories like she had just heard.

“As big a lie as saying that humans never existed,” Lyra chirped. All around the table, ponies groaned and applied hooves to their faces. “What? They really existed! Look at all the stuff around us, like Octavia’s mug. You can’t put a hoof around that! Why do we have it then?”

“What is-” Octavia started.

“Don’t. If you value your sanity, don’t ask,” Colgate interrupted.

“Can you please just tell us what’s going on, Lye? You can indoctrinate them about humans later,” Quick Fix said tactfully. “Don’t you think Vinyl comes before your uh… observations?”

“I suppose you’re right,” she conceded. “Okay, well, I am going to just come out and say that there is one common thread that links all of these stories, even the one Wrench told us, together. It’s not the sunglasses, but rather the pony. In all of them, Vinyl only gets the shades from DJ Flare. And that is because it is the truth. She never lied to anypony, but she changed the situations with every version.”

“Well… if she got them from one pony, why make up so many different version?” Beauty Brass asked after taking a sip of her glass of clear liquid. Octavia now suspected it was vodka.

“That’s…” Lyra trailed, looking down at the table as if it were suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. “That’s because she hates it when ponies worry about her. More than anything else, she doesn’t like it when others tell her that they are concerned about her. Part of that is because she was worried over a lot when she was younger.” The minty mare sighed.

“What’s wrong, Lye?” Colate asked without even a shadow of a smirk upon her muzzle.

“I’m… I’m going to have to break a promise that I made a very long time ago. We all know Vinyl is a private pony. She doesn’t like others to know what she’s feeling, or even if she has any at all because she doesn’t want ponies to worry and… and she wants to be able to let go easily in case…”

“In case what?” Blind Charge spoke as he leaned forward ever so slightly.

Lyra looked down at her glass as she ignored her friend and pretended like he had never spoken in the first place. “Most of you know that we’re from Canterlot, right?” Everypony at the table nodded their heads (well, except for Berry Punch, who continued to lounge on the bench). “Well… My step-father is Duke Blueblood IX, my half-brother is Prince Blueblood and my mother is Duchess Harpsichord Heartstrings. Vinyl’s father is Lord Ebony Tune and her mother is Lady Ivory Song.”

All jaws had dropped at the bomb. “Y-you mean… you mean that… that Vinyl Scratch is NOBILITY and… and she OUTRANKS ME!? Holy shit I never… I… ugh!” With nothing else left to say, Octavia smashed her head against the table: partially because she swore and partially because she was hoping the blow would kill her.

A hoof from nowhere tapped her gently on her right shoulder. “If it’s any consolation, Lyra outranks you both, being the heiress to a duchy and all.” Beauty Brass tried.

“Eh, personally, neither of us really care about that crap,” Lyra said. “It’s why I moved to Ponyville and fell for my Bonnie.”

Octavia eventually decided to lift her head and turned to Lyra as if seeing her for the first time. Though she could see a mare reclining in the booth with a soft, warm smile upon her face, all she could think of was all the times they had insulted each other. All of the arguments and soft blows and… and… and now that she thought about it, Lyra had enough pull to get her whole family disgraced and yet she never did.

“When we were foals though, things were very much different,” the green unicorn continued as her smile faded. She sat up in her seat. “We were pretty much cut from the same cloth as other noble foals: smug, egotistical, boastful, downright cruel to ‘the help’, as we called the servants, and not a shred of humility between either of us. Just huge snot bags in general.”

“A-all right. So… do you remember how you two met?” Octavia asked.

“I’m older by about a couple of days, so our mothers were both expecting at the same time. They met in the hospital and decided even before we were born to set us up on playdates. However, we didn’t actually meet until my first birthday party. Since then though, we saw each other at least once a week where we played in the nurseries and, when we got older, harass other people or play our instruments.”

“Instruments?” Quick Fix asked with a slight tilt to her head. “I know you play the lyre, but Vinyl’s a DJ. Are you saying she could spin turntables even back then?”

“Heavens no!” Lyra replied with widened eyes. “Our parents would have been beside themselves! When I say ‘instrument,’ I mean a traditional instrument. A violin, to be precise.”

“Vinyl Scratch; a mare who once… pleasured herself… with my bow… A mare who has an utter psychopathic hatred for classical music… used to play one of the most iconic and elegant of instruments? Your honour, I object,” Octavia balked.

“She didn’t play her violin,” the minty mare smiled. “She would play her violin. For years, she was proclaimed as the second coming of Trotovski! She could make old and hardened stallions weep like fillies with the right notes… It wasn’t so much playing the instrument as using it to express her soul and play the ponies! Vinyl was a prodigy to put it lightly. In fact, I think she’s one of the youngest pony to ever receive a Moldavi.”

Both Octavia and Blind Charge were utterly taken aback and stared at Lyra not as if she had sprouted a second head, but as if she revealed that she was Princess Celestia the whole entire time. Awe, appreciation, horror and terror overloaded Octavia’s brain as she tried to register the weight of such a sentence. To think that she was worthy of such… such…

“I think you broke her, Lyra,” Colgate said, waving a hoof in front of the stallion’s face. “And Charger too.”

“What’s… so special about a Moldavi? I take it that’s a manufacturer?” Quick Fix asked.

“Moldavi is a moose who lives in the wildlands. His family, for generations, have crafted the most perfect and beautiful stringed instruments in the world!” Blind replied, despite still looking like a pony caught in the headlamps of a carriage. “And they’re very picky about who they sell to. Only the best players of stringed instruments can even HOPE to purchase one. To see… and to hear one play is… it’s an experience to say the least.”

“Let me explain in terms you might understand,” Lyra spoke. “A Moldavi instrument, to a stringed musician is like…a weightless sousaphone, a mouth filled with perfect teeth, a gold-plated titanium multi-tool or a century-old bottle of wine. They’re exceedingly rare and exquisite.”

Each pony shivered visibly when the green mare mentioned the relevant nirvana of their trade, and suddenly were overcome with understanding. At least, Octavia hoped so. “If she’s as good as you say… then why have I never heard her play?” she asked.

“Hehehehehe~!” Berry Punch giggled. “She made another rhyme!

The smile on Lyra’s face fell faster than a boulder off Mount Canter. Her amber eyes even began to sparkle a little bit as she cast them down to her drink of rye. “Because she made a promise that can never be fulfilled,” she said simply and quietly. There was a long silence… as silent as one could get in a bar on a Friday night, anyway.

“I hate to sound crass… but can you tell me the sunglasses story, Lyra?” Octavia asked.

“Sure. It was seventeen years ago this spring. We were but fillies of nine, but we had both earned our cutie marks. Vinyl actually earned hers second, because hers wasn’t related directly to her instrument. In fact, this story begins at Vinyl’s Cute-ceañera…”

~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~

It was a clear and sunny afternoon in Canterlot with nary a cloud in sight over or under the city. From where she stood, Lyra could easily see to the Everfree Forest and beyond, perhaps to Fillydelphia or Coltsberg if they were not beyond the horizon. But she could care less about what lay beyond Canterlot; she was far more interested in what the backyard had to offer.

Among stone paths, statues, and masonry were a fairly large number of fillies and colts about her age, all dressed exceptionally well, as usual. But what really got her attention was the colourful games and attractions. A bouncy castle sat to the left of the large fenced off swimming pool with games of skill and endurance a pony could find at any carnival all around it. There were spinning cups and even a couple of small roller coasters going around the yard interlacing with a miniature railroad to ride on.

“Go find your friend, honey. Mama needs to talk with Auntie Ivory for a bit,” Duchess Harpsichord Heartstrings said with a gentle pat to Lyra’s head. “And don’t forget to take the present over to the table.” As the older, yellow unicorn walked off, Lyra took the gift from her magic and into hers. She carefully trotted down the steps from the patio where the adults sat and down to the lawn with the other foals.

Right at the bottom, there was an impressive display of fine tables and chairs and a long buffet table at one end of the rectangular landing. Upon said buffet table, there was an ice sculpture of two tied eighth notes in the centre slowly melting in Princess Celestia’s light. At the opposite side of the clearing was a stage where an ensemble played ambient music to an audience of essentially nopony.

But Lyra was a mare on a mission. She pushed past the distractions and wove between the tables and chairs to the opposite side of the clearing where, just in front of the pool fence, was a table overflowing with gifts for the special mare. It was not unusual to see such piles, since Lyra herself had one at her cute-ceañera not too long ago. So, she deposited her gift and went looking for her friend.

Considering that there were only maybe twenty or thirty foals in attendance, it was a rather easy task. Almost as soon as she had set out, she found Vinyl Scratch trying, and failing, to throw a dart at some balloons. “Hi, Vinyl!” she waved as her friend stepped away from the game dejected and muttering under her breath. Her two-tone mane and tail were styled in their usual wavey, yet elegant way. Her blue bow-tie contrasted nicely against her white fur while complimenting her mane. The only thing different about her appearance was the silver toy tiara upon her head and her newly acquired cutie mark.

Although she wore a dour and gloomy expression, a smile quickly filled her face as she saw her best friend. “Lyra!” she chirped and trotted over. “Nice outfit. How did your mother convince you to wear such a thing?” Lyra blushed, having forgotten about her butter-yellow and very frilly dress.

“Her boyfriend insisted I’d look cute in it,” she seethed with gritted teeth.

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself, my dear friend. It’s really not as bad as it seems.”

“Really?” Lyra said as embarrassment turned quickly into hope.

“No.” Vinyl smiled in that awkward way she knew meant that telling a lie was more painful than being honest. In response, Lyra hung her head and hoped she would turn invisible. “It is only for one day, correct? I think it would be best if you were to just… grin and bear it.”

“I guess you’re right,” she replied as she lifted her head. “So what would you like to do today? Looks like you’ve got all kinds of new toys to play with.” She really hoped that she would not suggest either of the rollercoasters.

“Well, first I was thinking we should try the bo-ALTY!” Vinyl cried out in joy and surprise. Without even a second to process what was going on, the pony of the hour was off like a rocket. If Lyra did not know any better, she would say her friend had turned into an alicorn as she flew across the lawn and up the stairs to the patio with the boring old adults.

Being left in the dust was never a nice thing, but Lyra would let it slide this time. She turned to pursue her friend, knowing well that they did not see each other so much now that her older sister had moved out into her own abode. Like Vinyl, she too admired the older sibling. Not out of respect, like they had to with most adults, but because she was fun! Alto Harmony was almost like a filly their age, but in a mare’s body.

“Mother, I do believe I am being assaulted by a little white ball of sunshine,” Lyra heard the mare speak as she walked up the stairs. “No, wait, it’s Vinyl! My mistake!” She loudly proclaimed as she picked her sister up with her orange magic and gave her a tight hug. “Now come on, tell me; did you really get your cutie mark, or did you con Mom and Dad by putting a sticker on your flank?”

Vinyl giggled as she was let down by her sister. “No, Alty! It’s legitimate!” The smile on her face seemed too big for a filly of that age. Alto Harmony was a unicorn of similar white to her sister’s coat, but with the cutie mark of an old microphone upon her flank. Most adults stared at her two-tone purple-blue mane and tail. Ever since Lyra could remember, they were done up with gel to make sharp spikes, with the mane in a mohawk-like style and the tail hanging free and long.

“Hi, Miss Harmony,” Lyra said politely to announce herself as she approached.

“Ho hi, little Lye,” the adult said. Her striking amber eyes were visible as she wore her black and purple sunglasses upon her horn. Almost like a crown, at least to her young eyes. “Are you kidding me?” she said, looking back down at her sister. “It’s legit? Aww, my wee little sister is growing up so fast!” A hoof met Vinyl’s head and started messing up her intricately combed mane.

“Ahh! Alto! Stop it!” Vinyl whined as she was given a playful noogie.

“Sorry, but as far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be a baby to me! Even when you turn eighteen and I take you out for your first drink, you’ll always be my little Vee. Emphasis on the ‘little’ part,” she said with a smirk before removing her hoof from the irate filly’s head.

Vinyl glowered at her with embarrassment and slight anger, but it was quickly extinguished when she was given another hug. “You’re a butt,” Lyra could hear her whisper so that adults could not.

“Its my job,” Alto replied with a smirk before breaking it off. “So!” she proclaimed loudly. “Did I miss anything cool?”

“I’m afraid you did, my dear,” said their father Ebony Tune. He was a rather stocky stallion with an ashen grey coat and a mane of snowy white. His cutie mark was that of a single blue eighth note. “Vinyl treated us all to a little concert before the festivities kicked off.”

“Aww, darn,” she said, kicking at a pebble on the ground. “I was really looking forward to that too!” Since she had moved away, she had yet to hear her little sister play on her new Moldavi, as she was working a gig on the birthday when Vinyl received it.

“Don’t worry, Alto,” Vinyl chirped. “I’ll make sure the next time I play, it’ll be for you. I promise!”

“Well, I was planning on staying the weekend, so sure! You can play for me any time, Vinyl,” she said with a smile. For a moment, both siblings looked at each other, almost as if they were talking with their minds in a way only close siblings could… in a way an only foal like Lyra could never understand.

Alto was the one to break the silence when she loudly proclaimed, “Who wants a pony-back ride to the rollercoaster!?”

“Me me me!” Vinyl said excitedly before being lifted by an orange magical aura onto the older sister’s back. In a flash, both were gone and racing down the stairs at breakneck speed. Lyra hated being left out of stuff like that, as she raced to catch up, but she knew it was something that Alto Harmony would do only for Vinyl Scratch.

*** *** ***

The last note of the melody echoed through the room as her hoof lifted from the wire upon her lyre. But when she opened her eyes, there was no smile, or even an applause from her friend who sat in the chair before her. Vinyl had her eyes on the floor and a gloomy expression upon her face. Although she had seen her mood when she came in for their weekly playdate, she wrote it off as something trivial since playing music usually cheered her up… but now Lyra was worried.

“Vinyl? Is… Is there something wrong?” she asked after setting aside her instrument and walking over to her friend. She dreaded the answer that could make Vinyl upset, even after hearing her friend play.

“Alto... “ she started, trailing off for a moment before finding her voice again. “Alto’s been sick in bed for the past week. I think she caught the flu from one of the guests or something and she’s been in bed since that night. Too sick for me to play for her, even.”

Lyra’s face fell. Alto had always been a very healthy pony; she had never known her to be sick. Unless she had a lot of adult juice to drink. Then she would complain she was dying from a massive headache, which always made her wonder why adults drank it if it made them sick afterwards.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Vinyl. I hope-” but she was interrupted by the door suddenly opening. Turning to see what the commotion was about, she saw Vinyl’s mother, Ivory Song.

“Come, darling, get your coat. We’re going out now,” she said as calmly as she could, but she was given away by her panicked eyes.

“Wh-what’s wrong, mom?” Vinyl asked. Her fear and worry were plainly evident.

“Nothing’s wrong. We’re just… taking Alto to the hospital to get her looked at by a doctor. It should be nothing serious.”

“Oh. I’ll just call for a ride home,” Lyra said, not wanting to stick her nose into other ponies business.

“No time, I’m afraid,” she said quickly as she ushered the fillies out the door and down the hall. “Your mother’s out of town right now and nopony is answering the phone. You’ll just have to come with for now. Should be no trouble.”

“You could just leave me here,” she replied. “I mean, you have servants too.”

“Leave Harpsichord’s daughter alone with the help? I’d never do that to my friend,” Ivory said. “Besides, if Alto sees you with us, it’ll help keep her in good spirits. You are like family to us, after all.”

Although she tried to protest more, they were rushed out to the waiting carriage in the drive. Alto lay on the back bench, shivering under a heavy blanket. Every now and then, she would sniffle to stop the snot running out of her nose. Lyra and Vinyl could do nothing but watch as they sat across from her with the carriage going as fast as the driver dared through the city streets.

Lyra would never forget the drive up to the emergency entrance of the hospital, where two orderly ponies with a stretcher came running up to the carriage. They quickly yet gently placed Alto onto the stretcher and carried her inside with herself, Vinyl and the parents following shortly after. The two fillies were told to sit as the parents rushed over to the counter to tell the pony there what was wrong. “Sick for a week” and “getting worse” were heard by them over the ambient noise of the waiting room.

If Vinyl was upset before, by then she was utterly terrified. Hospitals and needles had always disturbed her, but the unknown condition of her sister probably hurt the most of all. The two fillies sat close to each other and tried to play games like ‘I Spy’ to keep their minds off of their surroundings and pass the time.

A couple of hours slipped away before the parents were told that Alto was moved to a private room. The four ponies got to their hooves and followed the nurse towards the elevator and down a hall when they got to the floor. Lyra’s stomach danced with butterflies of worry; she couldn’t imagine how Vinyl must have felt.

Standing at a door at the end of the hall was a draft-horse of a unicorn stallion with a clipboard suspended in a pristine white aura of magic. He looked up from it to the approaching ponies. “Ms. Harmony’s family?” The nurse nodded and left. “I’m Doctor Stethoscope,” he said as he took the parents’ hooves. “I have something I need to tell you both, but I’m afraid this isn’t a conversation to have in front of the fillies.”

“Can you girls please wait here?” Ivory Song asked. Her normally well-kept purple mane was unkempt and her alabaster coat a little frazzled, but she kept her composure as true to the swan on her flank as she could. They nodded and let the adults walk inside. And then they pressed their ears up to the door.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Doctor Stethoscope said with his voice muffled beyond the door. “The reason Ms. Harmony isn’t recovering from her cold is because we found, during our tests, that she has overfinititis. It’s a genetic disorder that shuts down the immune system when certain chemicals are introduced to the body in significant doses. She couldn’t fight off the cold on her own.”

There was silence for a moment. “Is there a cure?” they could hear Ebony Tune say.

“I’m afraid not. It’s possible to bring her immune system back, but odds are that she will never have it fully functioning again, making even a cut potentially deadly. We’ll do absolutely everything we can to help her through this and in the future, milord and milady.”

“So… there is a chance she’ll recover from this ‘overfinitits’ thing?” Ivory Song mumbled through the door.

“No, as it’s a genetic disorder. But we can try to flush the chemicals out of her and try to kickstart the immune system again. It’ll be tricky though. I need to know… what does she do for a living?”

“She’s a disk jockey,” the parents replied in unison.

“That will make things more difficult, since such lifestyles often include a lot of drugs that can start the shutdown… but we’ll do everything we can,” the doctor replied. “You’ll have to get your other daughters tested though.”

“Only one’s our daughter,” Ivory said. “The other is LIKE a daughter to us though.” If Lyra were not so worried, she would be touched by such a statement. The sound of hoofsteps approaching the door made both fillies scramble away and quickly put on their best ‘bored, but worried’ faces. The doctor opened the door and looked to the two of them.

“You two can visit now,” he said with a small smile before trotting off down the hall.

As the two crossed the threshold, Lyra stopped to take in the scene around her. The room was white-on-white except for a few chairs, some paintings and a few colourful plants decorated about. A radio on a shelf played some quiet but upbeat classical music But what really took her by surprise was the bed. Alto Harmony lay upon a green hospital bed wrapped in a plastic tent. Tubes were poked into her legs with bags of clear fluid hanging from a metal tree beside it.

Alto smiled as they entered the room, propped up by the bed so that she could see her family. “Hey there, kiddo,” she said weakly. “Be strong, okay? I can beat this stupid old cold. Doc just said it’s a stronger strain than normal,” she lied.

Vinyl nodded her head and sniffed, walking over to the bedside while Lyra retained a respectful distance. “I will,” she sniffed. “A-and I promise, I won’t play until you feel better! I don’t think I can knowing that you’re so sick.”

“No, Vinyl. Don’t do that,” Alto said quietly. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you play while I’m here. I’m sure the other sick ponies would like it too.” She smiled and patted her sister’s hoof through the plastic.

“O-Okay… tomorrow then,” Vinyl said with tears starting to well up in her eyes.

“We’d better go,” Ivory said. “We need to take Lyra home, but we’ll be right back, sweetie. Okay?” As the adults started ushering them to the door, Alto sat up in bed.

“Wait,” she said as loud as she could, which was a normal pony’s speaking voice. “Vinyl, come here. I want to give you something.”

The white filly trotted over to the bed and stood right beside her. “What is it?”

Alto pointed to the nightstand beside her bed where her sunglasses sat. “I want you to be a big pony for me, Vee, and look after my sunglasses while I’m sick, okay?”

“What!?” Vinyl gasped, knowing Alto never took her shades off for anypony.

“I can’t have them in the hospital, and who better to take care of them for me?” She smiled and gestured to them again. Vinyl looked at her, and then the shades for a long time before she gingerly picked them up with her magic, but she did not put them on. “I need you to promise me that you’ll take care of them while I’m stuck in here, okay?”

“I promise!” Vinyl nearly shouted, the tears now starting to flow out of their eyes. Ivory came around and lead the little filly to the door. “Get better soon, Alty!” Vinyl said as she carried them out the door with her.

“I promise,” she replied.

As the four ponies walked back to the carriage, the future had yet to be determined. There was hope, no matter how slim it was, but no pony there could imagine how things would turn out. Vinyl always took promises seriously, so when Alto said she would get better, the little sister found a bit more of a spring in her step. While she did play once more for her in the hospital (to the staff’s displeasure), Vinyl insisted that she would not play again until she was better.

*** *** ***

If it had been raining, it would have been a cliche spring morning as ponies stood around in the piercing cold winds. But remarkably for Canterlot, nopony was paying attention to the weather as they stood upon the well groomed grass pocked by the occasional patch of flowers. A hollowness filled the pit of her stomach as they stood around the one part of the lawn and looked inward. But they were not at some garden party looking upon a new statue or gossiping about an outcast pony.

They were standing around a grave.

Not a month had passed since Alto Harmony had gone to the hospital, and now she lay inside a coffin, dressed in the best black dress money could buy. Her mohawk had been flattened and her tail had all the gel taken out, giving back the scarcely seen silky smoothness it once had. If Lyra did not know any better, she would have thought that she were sleeping.

How she wished for Alto to spring out of the box and scare everypony as some kind of bad joke, or if she had been placed under some kind of hex that would wear off and she would step out. But… no. She was gone… and it hurt. Lyra could barely look as she dropped her flowers into the open casket; the white orchid and yellow tulip mingling with others and the scare few red roses. Tears flowed freely from her eyes as she passed by, and then sat next to her best friend.

Vinyl sat at the side of the casket with her head downcast and cheeks stained with tears. Occasionally a strained and muffled sob would punctuate the otherwise silent air as the filly’s body shook. Lyra leaned onto her and hugged her tight as the priest began to drone on and on like he knew her. She knew she could never comfort her enough… and that even if she knew Alto, she could never imagine just what Vinyl was going through. Not completely, anyway.

But even if she could, Lyra knew that Vinyl would not speak. For clenched in her teeth was Alto’s favourite pair of sunglasses; the very same ones she gave to her in the hospital to look after. True to her word, Vinyl had kept them safe and sound just as she asked. In fact, for the last few weeks, Lyra would not be surprised if they never left her sight.

"What is she doing with those gaudy sunglasses?” a mare behind them wondered aloud in a voice quiet enough not to be heard by the general populace, but loud enough for them to hear.

“I daresay I hope she’ll be throwing those tacky things into the casket,” a stallion beside her said. “Not to speak ill of the deceased, but she had rather bad fashion sense. They belong in the garbage, but I suppose in the casket with her will suffice.”

“Be quiet!” Ivory Song snapped quietly back at them. “Those sunglasses were her gift to Vinyl. If I hear any more quips like that, I will ask for you to be removed! And you can forget about being invited to any future occasions as well!”

Ebony Tune had to lay his hoof upon her back, probably to stop his wife from turning on them and slapping them in the faces, though Lyra could sense a similar desire in him. She could feel Vinyl shake a little more as an inaudible sob rocked her. In response, Lyra patted her side and pushed back into her to help her feel that she was not alone.

“... may you graze in peace with the Eternal Herd. A moment of silence,” spoke the priest as he finished delivering the eulogy. Lyra could feel Vinyl tense up against her as the moment stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. “And now, I believe that Miss Harmony’s younger sister, Vinyl Scratch, will perform a song for us on her violin.”

Lyra had wondered why her parents had brought Vinyl’s violin case with them. Although Vinyl did not really look up for the task, considering how much she was leaning on her. Ebony turned his head to his daughter and spoke gently. “It’s okay if you don’t feel like playing, sweetie.” For a moment, Vinyl cast her gaze down to the ground… or to the sunglasses, Lyra was not sure which, before she nodded her head and took the case in her magic.

Slowly, she walked up to where the priest stood, with the sunglasses still clenched in her teeth and the slight gust of the winds blowing her black dress about. Several adults looked almost repulsed by the sight, and she could hear some murmurs about the sunglasses and why Vinyl was carrying them in her teeth like some kind of common earth pony.

Using her magic, Vinyl opened her case and pulled out her violin. Even during such a sad occasion, Lyra could not help but be amazed at how even in such gloomy weather, the white Moldavi instrument sparkled. No doubt, Vinyl had tuned her instrument before coming out that day, for she levitated the instrument up to her chin and put the bow upon the frets.

But before she drew it, she looked at the crowd and surveyed them. Lyra could see, even from where she stood, that many ponies looked at her with disapproval, disgust, or condescension. No… it was not Vinyl they were looking at, but rather the shades clenched in her teeth.

“My child,” the priest spoke. “Perhaps it would be best if you didn’t play with those… things… in your mouth… or on your person.” Lyra winced. He probably had good intentions, but the road to Tartarus was paved with them.

Vinyl’s expression of sorrow and sadness swiftly turned to anger. She pulled both bow and violin away from her and slammed them back into the case. Before anypony could say a word, she turned around with more speed than Lyra had seen from her in a fortnight and galloped away.

“Vinyl!” Ivory Song called out before she too galloped after her little filly. All Lyra could do was watch and wait along with the others as the casket was shut on her big sister and lowered into the grave. She cried again when she realized it was well and truly over… that Alto Harmony had been laid to her eternal rest.

/***\/***\/***\

“Vinyl was… never the same pony after that,” the older Lyra spoke in a somber tone. “Hell, she didn’t even talk for nearly a year and a half until her doctors said she’d go mute if she didn’t use her voice. Even after that, to hear her say anything other than ‘yes’, ‘no’ or ‘thank you’ was a rarity. I don’t think she’s even taken her instrument out of its case since.”

Speaking of silent, none of the previous awkward silences measured up to this one. Neither Octavia nor anypony else seemed quite up to breaking it yet, not that she could blame them. Like her, most were probably still digesting the idea of such a loss. She could never relate, being an only foal, so how could she ever hope to make Vinyl feel better about losing something so… so precious? If she knew then what she did now, she never would have-

“How come she’s never told us? Aren’t… Aren’t we her friends too?” Colgate said quietly, looking as if someone had just popped her in the jaw.

“Trust me, you’re as much a friend to her as I am,” Lyra paused, probably to choose her next words carefully. “She just hates it when ponies worry. After Alto died, everyone she knew was suddenly piling on her, telling her everything would be okay. When she’s sad, she likes to be alone and nopony understood that.”

“Does she have that... condition?” Quick Fix asked, attracting the attention of everypony there, which made her blush.

“Overfinititus? Yes, she does. She’ll get drunk nine ways past Sunday, but if you even suggest she do poison joke or something, she’ll deck you with no remorse,” Lyra answered. “Unless you’re a friend. If you are, she’ll just ignore you for a while.”

“Octavia, do you have anything to say?” Beauty Brass asked quietly.

“I… If I…” she sighed and looked up from her coffee mug. “If I had known, I never would have… I would have at least tried to fix them… but she never told me! How was I supposed to know…”

“I never said Vinyl’s privacy was a good thing,” Lyra soothed. “To her detriment, sometimes she shuts out the important things while thinking they’re nothing. Uh… As an example, one time she didn’t tell any pony she had bronchitis until she worried her parents enough to take her to the hospital kicking and screaming… in a sense.”

The silence returned as the ponies mulled things over. Even Berry Punch had grown oddly sober despite the half dozen bottles of booze in her veins. Octavia looked over to the clock on the wall behind the bar. It was a little past seven in the evening. She could not just let this stand anymore. She needed to remedy her mistake somehow and just sitting here in Ponyville wasn’t going to cut it.

“I’m going to call home,” Octavia said suddenly. “If she’s there, I’m going home to talk to her. If not, I’m going to look for her.”

“BARKEEP!” Berry shouted, making several other ponies in the bar jump. “BLACK COFFEE, STAT!”

“... What are you doing?” Octavia said, looking at her.

“You’re not going alone, Octavia,” Blind Charge said as he sidled out of his seat. “We’re Vinyl’s friends too. We’re coming with you. No ifs, ands or buts.”

“Hehehe, he said butts!” Berry giggled, going back to her previous disposition.

“I’m the one who made her go ballistic. So I’ll be the one to fi-”

“No offence intended, Octavia,” Lyra interrupted. “But we’ve got some things to settle too. Besides, you alone won’t be able to browbeat a stubborn pony like Vinyl. You need somepony just as stubborn and assertive to do that, and we all fit the bill. Further to the point, between the five of us, we know all of her favourite hangouts. And if we find her, we can quickly rally up.”

“Divide and conquer is really the best option,” Quick Fix affirmed as the black coffee for Berry Punch arrived.

“Besides, it’s getting late and the only safe way to explore a city like Canterlot at night these days is with a crew of bad mares and colts like us!” Colgate laughed and smiled a grin that made Octavia unsure if she was joking or not.

“Er… Right… I’ll just… go check…” Octavia said as she shimmied out of her seat. She quickly turned her back to the group and trotted over to a telephone she saw on the wall beside the bar. “Excuse me, sir, but are customers allowed to make calls on this?”

“‘Course they can. How do you think some ponies leave here?” Quick Silver the bartender replied.

That was all the answer she needed as she picked up the receiver and dialed their apartment’s phone number. The other end rang four times before a sound came over the line. “Vin-” Greetings, you have reached the residence of Octavia Melody and- VINYL SCRATCH! Leave your digits and message after the beep and we’ll get back to you when we can! Keep it chill, ponies! … Vinyl, that has got to be the worst message I ever- the machine answered with a beep at the end.

“Vinyl, it’s Octavia. If you are there, please pick up! I’ve talked to your friends today and I really need to talk with you. Please. I… I’m sorry I broke your sunglasses. I didn’t know they meant so much to you. Vinyl? Vinyl, are you there? I swear, if you’re ignoring me, I’ll scream you stupid! Please?” She paused, but eventually the machine beeped again without an answer.

She returned to the booth where bits were being piled and the ponies were getting saddled up to go. “No answer. Do you all have enough for the train?” she asked, knowing that she could say nothing to deter them at that point. They all nodded their heads in confirmation. “Very well. Let us get this madness over with.” Octavia headed for the door with newfound determination to find her roommate and apologize for her grievous mistake. Even if she could never make it up to Vinyl, she had to try.

Sonata

Octavia Melody had always been a mare of refined elegance and class. Even among her peers in the lesser nobility, she was proud to say that she always carried herself with the poise of a duchess or even one of the princesses. And yet, sitting in a little compartment speeding on its way upon the winding tracks leading to Canterlot, she found herself fidgeting and on the edge of her seat like a nervous filly.

Why am I acting like this? she thought to herself as she looked down to the floor. It’s just Vinyl Scratch, after all. Not mere hours before, I was content to just… let her be. Granted, I don’t want to be responsible or guilty for her damages, even if it is absurd of me to think I would be, but...

Her train of thought drifted away through the foggy quagmire of incoherent babble coming from the other occupants of the compartment. Octavia did not care to listen in on the conversations in detail, but the words ‘vinyl’ or ‘scratch’ seemed to stick out in her mind like lights in the troublesome fog. That mare… Before she came into her life, she would never associate with common riff-raff like her friends, and especially not her worst enemy, Lyra Heartstrings, who now sat opposite of her.

Vinyl was impetuous, insane, and filled with bravado: all together a pony Octavia should not have lingered around, never mind share an apartment with. And yet… half-tuned into her friends’ conversations about her, Octavia was beginning to see further past her idiosyncrasies than she ever did before. While all the flaws of her personality were still intact, she was seeing her roommate in a completely different light, and that made her stomach turn.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Octavia! Bit for your thoughts?” an uncommonly loud and confident Beauty Brass half-shouted over the others. The slight blush on her cheeks only confirmed Octavia’s suspicion that she had snuck alcohol into her water somehow. Normally, she would have been content to ignore her inebriated friend, but a quick glance upward forbade that course of action as everypony was now looking at her.

“Oh, um…” she started awkwardly, not really sure she could put her inner turmoil into words. “I was just thinking about… er… what we would do if we got to the apartment and Vinyl was, indeed, not present?”

Blind Charge, Colgate, Quick Fix and Berry Punch all blinked in unison; a fact that only further churned the cellist’s stomach a little more. Silence hung in the compartment for a couple of seconds before anypony decided to break it. “Isn’t it obvious? We’ll have to split up and look for her.” All heads turned to face Lyra.

Split up and look for a single missing pony at night in downtown Canterlot? While the city was no Manehattan, it would still be dangerous for a pony to wander around so late. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to protest, and so she complied. “While your loyalty is admirable, could we not just contact the police, or city guard instead? I mean, no one here has seen her in days, so that could qualify her as being missing, does it not? I mean… I am worried, but I am not about to risk my life looking for her.”

Lyra seemed to sigh and nodded her head once before taking her turn to look at the floor. “I can see your concern, Octavia, and it is valid. And yes, we could indeed get the police to help, but… as she is now, I don’t think she’d go with them willingly and she doesn’t need ‘assaulting a police officer’ on her records. Only a pony who knows her can get her to come along willingly. Otherwise, we’ll just make things worse.”

“I am going to have to side with Octavia, Lye,” Colgate spoke, drawing attention. “Don’t get me wrong, Vinyl is a good friend. But there are risks to playing Mysterious Mare-do-Well, even in Canterlot.”

“If you’re that concerned, toothpaste, you can always partner up with me,” Blind Charge suggested with his chest puffed out and his wings spread.

“Yeah, you’d fall into the category of a stallion I’d be worried about. Not gonna happen,” she replied, before pushing the puffed-up pegasus onto the train’s floor with a derisive shove.

“I… I was being serious,” he said with a frown. “You know that I am not like that!”

“Ha! I got you going!” the mare grinned with those perfect pearly white teeth. “I didn’t mean to shove you that hard, Charger. Sorry.”

“Are we done with the schoolyard shenanigans yet!?” Octavia asked in annoyance, perhaps with more volume than she intended.

“How about a compromise?” Lyra said. “If Vinyl is not at the apartment, we will split into pairs and go searching. If we do not find her by midnight, we will go home and call the police in the morning. It’s almost eight o’clock now, so that will give us four hours to search, and given that we all know her favourite hideouts, we should be able to cover them. Is that acceptable?”

After a brief moment’s consideration, all of the mares nodded in agreement. Never before had Octavia seen Lyra Heartstrings so diplomatic. In all of their encounters, she had come off as a commoner biting at the heels of an upper crust pony like her. Perhaps it was something to do with her attitude, or maybe now that she knew Lyra was an even higher rank than her, she was willing to start seeing her as an equal. Either way, she somehow felt a little dirty for having pegged her the way she did. Maybe that change in view even applied to Vinyl now as well.

Now arriving at Canterlot. Canterlot Station. A magical voice chimed through the train.

“I’m glad that’s all decided,” Quick Fix said. Until then, she had been mostly quiet during the journey from Ponyville. “But sadly, the trains don’t run after midnight, Lyra. We’ll be stuck in Canterlot and I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t have enough bits on me for a hotel right now.”

“Oh, right,” Lyra spoked with slightly widened eyes. “Well... You can all stay at my place then! It’s not like I am lacking on space and my… parents, are in Las Pegasus for the weekend, so it should be no trouble.”

“Alright! We get to stay at a RICH pony’s house!” Colgate shouted as she stood from her seat.

“Colgate,” said Berry Punch warningly. Octavia could not help but look over at her since she had not spoken a single word since guzzling down what had to be ten gallons of coffee in about thirty seconds. However, her voice was successful in wiping the cheerful grin off the den--- oral health practitioner's face.

“Er… Sorry, Lye. You know I didn’t mean anything by that,” the minty mare replied with her ears drooping slightly. “Right?”

All Lyra did was smile and nod her head before the train started to squeal and slow to a crawl. Together with everypony else, they exited the compartment and trotted to the end of the car while they waited for the train to come to a complete stop. Octavia hung towards the back of the group because the space was tight and she did not want to feel herded along like common cattle.

At last, the doors opened and the ponies piled onto the Canterlot Station platform, allowing Octavia to breath a sigh of relief. The scent of freshly fallen rain tickled her nose as she inhaled, the familiar and comforting sense almost washing away the knot she felt in the pit of her stomach. She followed the group out onto the city streets where several of them had paused to take in their first real look at the city, if not in their lives, than probably in a long time. The rest, mostly just herself and Lyra, watched them.

“I suppose I should lead for now,” Octavia spoke after giving them a moment’s admiration.

“Lead on, Miss Melody,” Lyra said while doing her best to support an ungainly Beauty Brass.

Octavia started the group forward with a sure step and a light gait down the cobbled streets of the royal city. And yet, she did not feel nearly as confident inside as she looked on the outside. Only now, marching back home, after learning why Vinyl treasured those tacky sunglasses so much, did she start to feel sick at the prospect of trying to talk to her roommate. Granted, she usually felt a little sick trying to talk to her anyway, but that was usually because of some foul odor that lingered around her.

I destroyed one of the most precious gifts she ever received and tossed it away with zero regard for her feelings, Octavia reviewed. If she had told me, I would have tried to fix them! And yet… how can I ever apologize to her? I have no idea how she feels. I don’t even have a good understanding of what she’s lost.

Every scenario of the apology that cropped up in her head only ended badly for her. But at the same time, she almost wanted it to end badly so that she could disassociate with her, once and for all. Octavia’s head felt split against itself as one side tried to use this as a way to be rid herself of the nuisance she had experienced for the past year, while the other was curious to see what, exactly, could be found behind the curtain of egotism and impetuous impulse.

The twisted feeling in her stomach churned and turned the more Octavia thought about the conflict, and yet she could not pin down where, exactly, they were coming from. She had been lied to this whole time, but given how she would act towards her, it made sense for her to be left in the dark. For all she knew, Vinyl might have actually hated her while putting on a friendly mask. Her stomach pain only grew with that thought.

“Are we there yet?” Colgate said impatiently, like a foal on a long road trip. The cellist was ripped from her revery by the sudden conversation.

“We’ll be there when Octavia says we’re there!” Quick Fix angrily replied. “If you don’t stop asking, I’m going to put a muzzle on you!”

Berry’s voice from behind sighed before speaking, “Stop fighting before I make you two go stand in the corner.” Now that was a surprise! Octavia would not have pegged her as the kind to help settle arguments.

“Actually, we’re here now,” the cellist answered after a quick look up and down the street. “If you are coming inside, please try to be quiet. My landlady is… well… anal about things being kept at a minimal volume.”

Octavia walked up to the doors and pulled one open with her mouth, as per usual, and stepped inside the lobby of her apartment building. Seeing that the coast was clear she trotted past the spartan entrance hall and up the stairs, forgoing the broken elevator. Seriously, when is that cheapskate going to fix it!? she thought angrily to herself as she, once again, had to walk up the eight flights of stairs to her apartment.

Nearly out of breath from the long climb up, Octavia finally was at the door of her abode. Oh well, here it goes, she mentally braced. Extending a hoof out, she rapped gently on the door before inserting her key into the lock and turning the knob. All the while, her heart was pounding from the fear of the unknown. Yet when she turned the light on and walked inside, not a hair had changed since she left it earlier in the afternoon.

“Wow!” Colgate exclaimed after an impressed whistle. “This place is clean! Far more clean than I expected Pon-3’s crib to ever be!”

“It’s probably because Miss Octavia’s had the place to herself the past couple of days and could clean, toothpaste,” Blind Charge said.

“Oh. Right,” she said with an embarrassed grin. “Even so, this is a pretty snazzy place you’ve got here.”

“Who ushes wordsh like shnazzy an crib anymore?” the inebriated Beauty Brass slurred before being dumped onto the couch by an irritated Lyra Heartstrings. “You shound like commershal for the 90’s!” she continued before giggling.

“Is that what I act like when I am drunk?” Berry asked.

“You’re uh…” Lyra started, though hesitant. “Mostly, you’re uh… yeah, cheerful and making jokes. But other times you… uh… aren’t.”

“Oh,” the normally drunk pony said simply before turning away. “Maybe we should get her home before we look for Vinyl.”

“There’s no harm in letting her stay here,” Octavia said. “After all, she is one of my oldest and best friends. My couch is her couch. And besides, carrying her would be a chore and waste the little time we do have.”

“Agreed,” Lyra replied. “I don’t think my back could take much more of it anyway. If only we had a cart, or a good pair of hands.”

“Wha-”

“No.” Quick Fix interrupted. “Just.. no.”

“Right, well… uh… I’ll go check a little farther in,” the cellist said before she absconded from the awkward situation developing in her living room. As she checked the other rooms and places a pony could hide, she was once again left with her thoughts and the low mumble coming from down the hall.

Opening the doors was challenging for Octavia because, in her mind, she could see Vinyl just beyond each one, as inconsolable as she was that dreadful morning. And then the question would rear up, the question that had haunted the cellist ever since she learned why that blasted lump of plastic was important to the DJ: What can I possibly say? Octavia never had a sibling, she had never lost a pony close to her before, and yet it was her responsibility to apologize for her grievous mistake and try to comfort her roommate. But how!?

Thankfully, she was spared answering the question for the moment as she checked the last possible hiding place and was met with nothing once more. Perhaps they would need to call the police after all, as it was looking less and less likely that the search party could find her. She secretly hoped that they would so she would have some sturdy bars between her and Vinyl when she flubbed the apology.

“Nothing?” Lyra asked as Octavia emerged from the bathroom. The cellist shook her head in defeat and said nothing as she joined the other ponies. “I guess that means we’ll have to go out in a search pattern then. There are six of us, so three teams of two should be sufficient.” She trotted over the the kitchen and took three sheets of paper hanging from the fridge and pulled a pen out from a side drawer.

“What are you doing, Lye?” Colgate questioned.

“I’m drawing up a list of all of Vinyl’s favourite hang outs and I am laying them out in three circles for each group to follow around so that they end up back here. If we walk at a good clip, it should only take an hour, so we can investigate each place nice and thoroughly.”

“Oooh!” Quick Fix exclaimed with a smile. “I’ve rubbed off on you!”

“Let’s meet up outside the building then,” Blind Charge added. “Miss Octavia is the only one with the key anyway. And that way, if her group comes back first, she can let the rest of us back in or whatever we decide.”

“Okay, that is acceptable,” Octavia replied.

“Great. I’ve divided the teams by least likely to most likely to make contact with the objective,” Lyra said before passing out sheets with her magic. “Octavia is coming with me to the most likely places since she’s the one who needs to apologize, and I’ve paired the rest of you up so that there is one unicorn in the group who knows the Telepathy Spell. That way, if one of you finds her, the unicorn of the group can tell the rest of us to come to them!” she said with a grin very similar to Vinyl’s.

“Well, it looks like we’re going together after all, Toothpaste,” the lone stallion said with an awkward smile. “Er… I hope you know I’m a better stallion than to mug somepony…”

“Like I said, it was a joke, you lug,” Colgate replied before walking over to him. “Yes! We got the Copa Coconut!” she exclaimed after seeing their list.

“Don’t worry, Wrench,” Berry said when the other groups were settled. “I’m mostly sober by now. Well… more so than Beauty.” An awkward smile spread on her face when she said that.

“I’m guessing we got the least likely places, Lyra?” Quick Fix asked as she looked over their list map.

“Er… that’s not a problem, is it?” the noblemare asked.

“No, not at all. I just wanted to be sure because, well, I am not exactly the most practiced with that spell you mentioned. So I uh.. didn’t really want the pressure of being in the next most likely group.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lyra replied. “Okay, so now that we have our groups and partners, let’s split up and go.” She looked up to the clock that hung on the kitchen wall. “It’s quarter past eight now, so we have three and three quarter hours to search. Good luck, everypony!”

Octavia and Lyra stayed behind for a moment as the other ponies started off out the door and down the stairs. She had suspicions as to the unicorn’s methods, especially given their history together, but it seemed like she was putting them aside for Vinyl’s sake. After a couple of moments of waiting and examining their route, the two mares departed from the building after locking up the apartment.

It wasn’t until a couple of minutes after leaving the building that the tense silence between them was broken.. “So,” Lyra said, trailing off like she was unsure of herself. “I’ve been waiting a long time for a civil moment between us to ask you something, Octavia.”

Here it comes, the cellist thought. For a long time she had wondered just what exactly had set her off to spark their bitter rivalry with one another.

“You remember when we first met? At that music school that old mare, I can’t remember her name, ran? What did I say or do to get you to hate me so quickly? I don’t think we shared more than a sentence before you started this silly rivalry”

“I started!?” Octavia said incredulously. “You were the one, if anyone, to germinate the bad blood between us!”

“Was it because you thought I was a commoner?” she replied as if Octavia had not spoken.

“Of course not, I-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Octavia,” Lyra said as they turned down the next street. “You’ve only started acting civil to me when I revealed that I’m nobility too and don’t you deny it.” Octavia was about to retort when she saw a flicker in the unicorn’s eye and decided to think better of it. “I used to be like that, don’t forget.”

“So why did you start pretending to be common?”

“In short, the fallout from Alto passing on,” Lyra said solemnly. “Everypony started talking bad about her behind her family’s backs. I never wanted to be like that, so I decided to all but reject my heritage, until I got the stones to move to Ponyville to be with my penpal and now marefriend.”

“Oh,” Octavia said simply, choosing to find great and sudden interest in the cobbles beneath her hooves. “To be fair… most of my ensemble are commoners, and they are better friends to me than any other noble. At least, I realized that a while ago.”

“After Vinyl came into your life?” Lyra asked pointedly.

“Yes… After... Vinyl moved in with me.”

“Vinyl used to be a lot like you too, Octavia. She’d sneer at common ponies like the rest of us noble foals. Thankfully, Uncle Ebony and Aunt Ivory (I call them that since they’re like family) were in favour of public education and gave her a fresh perspective on things. I can’t say for sure, but… she’s probably extra flamboyant around you to get you to loosen up

“Mmm,” Octavia replied thoughtlessly. In her mind, she tried to picture Vinyl just like her: a straight and well-kept mane, a bow tie to match, and perhaps even a monocle for added effect. But it looked very silly. Almost as silly as the notion of Scratch talking down to ponies instead of getting in fights at clubs to, now that she thought about it, stand up for others. “Wait,” she said suddenly, looking up into Lyra’s eyes. “You mean she’s crazy on purpose!?”

/***\/***\/***\

“So…” Blind Charge started awkwardly as he flew to the side of and just a few feet above his partner. “Am I really a stallion you think you’d need to watch out for here?”

“Oh my celestia!” Colgate shouted. “You’re still on about that!? I told you, it was a celestia-damned joke! Twice! You’re like a dog with a fucking bone, aren’t you!? Or maybe in this case a damned bird with an updraft.” She sighed and looked over to him, but then looked quickly back down the road when she noticed he had landed next to her. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings, Charger,” she said after a few minutes of awkward silence as they trotted down the street.

“You? Sorry? Ha, now that’s a new one, Toothpaste,” the stallion smiled with a small laugh. “Oh… you were… you were serious,” he added after seeing her expression. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing all the time. Maybe then you’ll get a marefriend. But… yeah, you heard me. I’m sorry. I know how sensitive you are about your whole ‘white knight’ shtick and upholding your reputation as a gentlecolt. So I’m sorry, okay?” She did her best to hide the slight tinge that must have accompanied the heat in her cheeks.

Colgate nearly jumped when she felt a hoof drape over her back, but calmed down when she saw her friend’s smiling face. He then pulled the leg back, ruffling the fur where it had once been in a way that irritated her a lot; no doubt her comeuppance for one of her less tactful jokes. “You know you don’t need to play the clown while Scratch isn’t around, right?” he changed the topic.

“Says you. It’s the only time I get to be funny! You know how she steals the spotlight, whether she intends to or not. I blame her mane for that,” the dentist replied.

He laughed at the remark. “If not that, then it’s how loud and animated she is.” Again, there was another slight pause, his wings ruffling slightly as he developed an itch to fly.

“Fly if you want to,” Colgate said, seeing the minor twitch. “Just fly where I can’t see your undercarriage.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to be tempted,” Blind Charge said with a smirk before taking to the air again.

She laughed before shaking her head at the joke. “You’re weird. First you’re all pissy that I insulted you as a gentlecolt, and next thing I know you make a lewd joke. Ugh. Colts,” she said dismissively as she continued to walk down the street towards their first search area.

“Who says that mares get to be the only ones who are self-contradictory?” he said before swooping in front of her, making her jump, before gliding back up. “All’s fair in love and war, after all. Or is that ages-old saying only for fil-”

“Bored. New topic. Let’s talk about teeth. I’ve noticed, Mr. Daredevil, that you haven’t been flossing~!” Colgate said with a strange, seductive tone that, to her friends, meant anything but. “Come down here and let Doctor Minuette have a nice, long look.”

“Uh, no thanks, I’m good,” Blind Charge said to try and get out of it. “Besides, we’re on Scratch Patrol, remember?”

“What makes you think you had a choice in the matter?” she said before her horn started glowing.

/***\/***\/***\

Berry Punch and Quick Fix walked down the darkened streets of Canterlot together in near silence, as the only sound either made was their hoofsteps upon the uneven and ancient cobbles of the road. They would both look up and down the road and pause at every alley to give a quick glance down before moving on. No words were shared between them, but that was because they did not need them.

Well, it was that and the fact that the all-too familiar feeling of a hangover was knocking at the door of Berry Punch’s skull. Ugh she thought in anguish. I should have had a few glasses of water before we left Octavia’s place. Every step that either of them made was beginning to feel like a jackhammer going to town on her skull, sapping her concentration a little more every time they stopped to check something their friend could be hiding in. If water is free at the first place, I am going Camel-mode on their flanks.

Berry’s anguish, meanwhile, was simply a hoof note in the mind of Quick Fix. Not that she didn’t care about her friend’s well being, but rather because another friend had been suffering for longer. That, and Vinyl’s brand of pain was not self-inflicted. At least Berry isn’t moaning about it like she used to, she thought. Granted, it’s been that way since Pinchy started to question it. Poor Berry. She tries so hard and yet life continues to dump all these hardships on her.

Poor Vinyl, Berry thought to try and take her mind off her own pain. Even if they are jerks, I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I lost any of my brothers or sisters. She’s… she’s really a strong mare. Far stronger than I am anyway. She sniffled as she felt her nose get runny, probably from the dust and dander stirred up from the previous rainfall. It was far too late to stop herself from making a mistake and she was not going to let Vinyl do the same… not that she’d call her precious daughter a mistake. Not… now, anyway.

It’s a shame I didn’t meet you sooner, Berry, is what Quick Fix would have loved to say if she had the nerve. Then, maybe I could have helped you out and made you happier than you are today. She cast a quick glance at her earth pony friend and could not help but smile. And yet, for all your problems, you have the strength to try. To try to be a good mother, a good mare, a good friend. I wish I was as strong as you are.

But I can’t be too hard on myself, Berry Punch thought to herself. I might not have an easy time, but everypony has their pain. She quietly turned her head to watch her friend, who continued to look ahead of them. Wrench, for example. She was bullied pretty much every day until she made friends with Vinyl and because of it, she seldom speaks her feelings. Even to us. Berry turned her head away with a quiet sigh.

I have to try too, the unicorn thought with finality. “So…” she spoke quietly. “It’s a… uh… nice night out. Regardless.”

Berry was taken aback slightly by the sudden conversation, but smiled despite herself. “Yes, it’s… very cool and uh… damp…”

~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~

While Lyra Heartstrings had always been a clever mare, Octavia was willing to admit, she never was fluid enough to change her plans on the fly. Little more than an hour after they set out to search for the missing pony, they found themselves back on Octavia’s street with little more than a few tales of the unicorn's actions, and no clues as to where she could be. The cellist looked over to the lyrist, but dared not to speak for fear the mare would snap at her as Vinyl once had.

“I can’t believe it!” Lyra exclaimed for the fifteenth time. “I can’t believe she’d just go into all of those clubs and drink until she got kicked out without any sort of hijinks, or even saying more than her orders!”

“Even when drunk, she does not strike me as a talkative pony when it comes to any sort of feelings,” Octavia dared to speak.

Lyra sighed and finally looked up from the pavement as they came to a stop in front of the apartment building. “I guess,” Lyra said, defeated. “Perhaps the others are having better luck than we are right now?” Even though she said that, Octavia was not exactly sure that the unicorn even believed her own words.

“I suppose that means all we can do now is just sit here and wait,” she replied, earning an noncommittal grunt from Vinyl’s friend.

We’ve done all we can, spoke a part of Octavia’s mind. We called around, asked her friends about why those sunglasses meant enough to commit physical assault (we can totally sue her for a ton of money by the way), and even went searching. I think that’s enough to show we’re sorry rather than tell her.

Even so, another part spoke up, something tells me that it won’t be enough, and that she’ll actually want to hear the words. Besides, the night is still young. Maybe we can think of one more thing we can do before we have to call the police? The other side of her internal argument was about to retort when all thought was stripped away by two figures appearing out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey Charger, Toothpaste,” Lyra said with a wave when she noticed them too. “I take it there was no luck?”

“No, but we were regaled with some tales of her exploits,” Colgate replied, looking surprisingly annoyed. “I can’t believe she’d go on such an epic bender and NOT invite any of us!” Everypony gave her a withering look at that, which seemed to help her realize what she had just said. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

“Well, that and got my teeth cleaned nine ways to Sunday,” Blind Charge muttered.

“Come again? It’s impolite to mumble,” Octavia questioned.

“It’s nothing,” he replied quickly. “The point of the matter is that Vinyl is at least at stage two of drunkenness. Every club or bar we went to was filled with exploits of her accosting mares, stallions, and even a couple of poles at some of the more… uh… unsavory places.”

“Oh stop bullshitting, Charger, you were looking at those mares and don’t you deny it. But hey, male gaze. I understand. I get the same way, but with colts, when I get into heat,” Colgate replied with an almost predatory smile.

“Could we, perhaps, NOT talk about such bodily functions for the moment?” Octavia asked while trying to hide her irritation.

“I agree. Did you two find anything out? The Vinyl we tracked was soft-spoken and barely said or did anything to anyone,” Lyra spoke. “So, basically stage one.”

“Could you elaborate on these stages, perhaps?”

“It’s not very complicated,” Blind Charge said. “Basically, stage one is tipsy, stage two is drunk and stage three is wasted.”

“Right, because having a staging system makes so much sense,” Octavia said sarcastically. “Never mind, I’ve decided that I do not want to know anymore.”

“I’m surprised we finished so early though,” Lyra said after a couple of moment’s silence. “I would have thought we might have got at least a clue or something about where she would have gone, but she was really mum on the subject.”

“Yeah, and in our case, the ponies didn’t really care where she went just as long as she was gone,” Colgate replied. Silence reigned from there on out as the ponies sat quietly outside of the apartment building for the last of the search party to return. Although Octavia was more than ready to call the police by then, she could see genuine worry on their faces, especially as time ticked away and the others were still nowhere to be seen.

“Grape! Wrench! There you are!” Lyra shouted some twenty minutes later. “Did you two have any luck at-” she stopped herself when they shook their heads. “Damn. Well… we still have a couple of hours left until midnight.”

“Actually, we did receive a very good clue,” Quick Fix said. “I just couldn’t remember that stupid spell, so we came back. We didn’t expect everypony else to be finished too.”

“The ponies at the Blue Danube said they had kicked out a pony that looked like Vinyl just half an hour before we arrived,” Berry Punch recalled. “So we aren’t too far behind, but by now she may have crawled off to who knows where.”

Octavia balked, “The Blue Danube!? But that’s one of the most high-class lounges in Canterlot! Not even I can get into it! How could she-?”

“Her mother owns it Octavia, remember? Lady Ivory Song?” Lyra interrupted. “If she went there, then that means she was probably kicked out of everywhere else that sells liquor and was getting desperate, which give us the advantage!”

“How so? She could be on the other side of town by now, Lye,” Colgate reasoned.

“Think like Vinyl for a second, if you can,” she replied.

“I don’t think I can, even if I wanted to,” Octavia said bitterly.

“Regardless,” Lyra continued, “think about it. If you were Vinyl and dead-set on getting drunk, but knew you had no clubs left to go to, no liquor stores open, and probably VERY few bits, would you really be up to going across town?” She let the silence hang for a couple of brief moments before answering her own question. “No! She’d be more likely to stick around and wallow in her own self-misery.”

“So she’s still hanging around the Blue Danube?” Blind Charge questioned idly. “Okay, that is all well and good, but we still have a problem that I think we need to address first.”

“Indeed,” Quick Fix nodded her head. “Vinyl still doesn’t want to be found.”

“And as long as she doesn’t,” Colgate continued, “then there is nothing we can do. Even when drunk, she still knows enough magic to give most ponies the slip. I don’t think any of us can compete with that.”

“So we have to lure her out somehow,” Lyra concluded. “That’s not going to be easy. I know Vinyl Scratch the best and when she’s feeling miserable, she’s pretty good at shutting everything out. It’ll be hard to even get her attention, never mind her curiosity.” The noblemare sighed heavily.

“There has to be something, right?” Blind Charge spoke. “Vinyl and the police are never a good mix. I mean, there has to be something she values, perhaps enough to get her out from wherever she is hiding.”

“Music, pretty much,” Lyra replied. “But I don’t think we could ever make music good enough between Octavia, Charger and I that would do little more than aggravate what must already be an epic hangover.”

“The only thing that ever gets me to pay attention to Vinyl is her horrendous noise that she calls music. I mean, dubtrot cannot be a legitimate genre, can it?” Octavia said to herself with annoyance at the mere memory of it. Countless mornings of being awoken to ear-splitting, pounding bass and what had to be the screeching of a hundred different banshees. How in Tartarus could she have possibly ignored something like that?

“Well, I suppose there is no choice,” Colgate said with a sigh. “Should we call the police now or in the morning?”

“I’d say we wait until the morning,” Lyra said. “It would give her some more time to detox and come back on her own. I’d say that would be far superior to forcing her to go to jail to sober up. Less likely to end in charges either.”

“Music…” Octavia trailed. Unintentionally, she grabbed the attention of everypony present. However, she noticed the eyes on her and broke out of her musings. “Um… Well… I’m not normally one to abide by this, but how about fighting fire with fire?”

“Come again?” Quick Fix asked after a long and awkward silence.

“I just mean, well, she always wakes me or annoys me with her awful music, so, if we somehow made music that was so bad that she couldn’t ignore it, we could draw her out to us,” the cellist clarified. “Granted, it might spoil my musical reputation worse than the Grand Galloping Gala incident… no, never mind.”

“That’s a shame, because it sounds like the perfect idea to me,” Lyra said. “Poorly played classical music is a huge irritant to her. I’m actually impressed that you came up with something so brilliant, Octavia!”

“Gah!” the cellist squeaked as she was suddenly wrapped in a tight hug by what was once her most bitter rival. She tried to wiggle out of it as hard as she could, but the vice-like grip of the green mare was a lot like one of those gorillas or perhaps even a python. “Let… me… go!” she wheezed.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Lyra said before letting Octavia free. “So, um… to make your plan work, we’ll need instruments and a way to amplify the sound to make sure she hears it.” An awkward smile crossed her face, obviously just as eager to forget the hug ever happened in the first place.

“I’m not sure about instruments, but Vinyl keeps a lot of speakers and microphones in her room,” Octavia replied. “Under the circumstances, it might be wise to borrow them.”

“What about the instruments?” Berry Punch asked. “Neither I, Colgate or Quick have instruments and Charger’s guitar is all the way back in Cloudsdale, leaving only a lyre and a bass.”

“Good point,” Colgate agreed. “We can’t really make bad music if we can’t make music in the first place.”

“Well, if worse comes to worse, I suppose we'll just have to borrow a record or two and her mixing table,” Octavia replied. “Unless, of course, any of you can see a glaring flaw in that plan, such as angering Vinyl enough to buck me in the face again.”

“I don’t think she’d have any problem with that,” Blind Charge said. “If anything, I’m sure she would be willing to give pointers under normal circumstances.”

“Right, well, we’re wasting time here ladies and colt. Let’s get this metaphorical party started,” Quick Fix said. Without another word, the group of six ponies followed Octavia back into the building and up the stairs to the eighth floor apartment, all the while keeping in mind to be as quiet as possible, lest they attract the ire of the dread Pretty Penny.

When Octavia opened the door to Vinyl’s bedroom, there was a hushed whisper of awe-inspired gasps coming from most of the others. Thinking back, she had to wonder if she too had made such a face when she found the cleanliness of the room quite the contrary to the character of its occupant. “There are the speakers,” Octavia said, pointing them out. “And I believe that is the mixing table over there.”

The ponies set to work after taking a moment to collect themselves. Quick Fix and Lyra took the mixing table in tandem while Colgate started with a couple of speakers. Blind Change and Berry scooped up the wires and a box filled with records to get things working, leaving Octavia the important job of making sure they did not break all of the furniture while navigating the building with the large and awkward equipment. How did Vinyl manage to do this in the first place?

However, just as Octavia was about to leave the room, a curious shape caught her eye. Even if she wanted to just ignore it and move on, something inside her told her what she was looking at. But she had to know for sure, or else it might eat at her for the rest of the night. The black, curvey shape sat behind where a speaker had once been, explaining why she had not seen it before.

Octavia grasped the handle gingerly by the teeth and pulled the box from off the floor and onto Vinyl’s bed, heart beginning to beat noticeably as she did. With a couple of sharp, prompt nudges from her muzzle she undid the clasps and opened the case. She almost regretted it. Almost. For inside was a violin, the likes of which she had never seen before: white as snow with a high-gloss finish that made it look as if it were chiseled out of the finest marble that Mother Earth had born. The rest; the tuning knobs, bridge, chinrest and tailpiece, even a decorative piece at the end of the bow in the shape of a unicorn’s head, were all done in chrome to make the light sparkle as it hit. This was a true Moldavi --- art that could make art.

“Wow,” said a quiet voice right behind Octavia, causing her to jump and nearly have a heart attack. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen it, I forgot how beautiful it was,” Lyra continued. “I didn’t think it’d ever be this close by. Not since the day of the funeral. I was convinced she kept it with her parents… but I guess some bonds are harder to break than others.”

“Lyra,” Octavia said quietly as she dared to let the darkest recesses of her mind speak. “I have an idea, and you may hate me for suggesting this, but…”

/***\/***\/***\

Everything was cold and dreary: everything from her body down to her very soul was permeated by the sharp, crisp air. Even though the rain had come and gone, the clouds hanging high above in the night sky still seemed threatening, despite overhearing no more rain was scheduled for that night. It did not matter: she was too numb to feel it anyway.

She rested her back against the side of the wall, flanked on either side by empty cardboard boxes that shielded her from sight. They looked a lot like how she felt: cold, soggy, and empty on the inside with a slight mildew scent lingering around them. Yet, aside from the odd rat or insect, she was perfectly alone and unlikely to be disturbed by anypony. How long had she sat there? An hour? Two perhaps, and yet no matter how long she waited, the alcohol refused to take hold and let her forget.

Vinyl Scratch sighed a deep sigh and slumped down into the wet cobbles. Sometimes, she really hated having a high tolerance, as it made it hard to get drunk and harder to keep her buzz. She looked up at the slightly wobbly wall and determined that yes, she was drunk, but not nearly enough in order to forget what had happened and how she had broken the promise she made all those years ago.

It’s impossible for me to make it up to her, she thought though the haze of the liquor. Especially now that… But she trailed off, unwilling to face that dark horror quite yet. She buried her face into her hooves and sniffed with a snort. “What am I gonna do?” she cried. In her frustration, she delivered a swift kick from a hind leg into a box at her side which did nothing to comfort her.

Vinyl growled and flopped again onto the ground in a huff, not caring how dirty her off-white coat became since it was already a mess. She stared ahead at the blank wall in front of her and did her best to blank out too: just forget everything and feel nothing. Yet all the stillness of her mind brought was pain as she flashed back to those terrible days of anger, worry, and fear. Days she had thought she had tamed into staying in the back of her mind.

Her body heaved with a big sigh as she spent innumerable minutes just lying there and thinking on the past, the present and the future and how they intermingled. Though her emotions were a torrent, she knew she would need to go back and face Octavia eventually. Besides, she was out of money and the idea of sleeping in a ditch, again, but on a rainy night, did not bode well for her health.

Vinyl picked herself up from the dirty, muddy ground and looked at her reflection in a lingering puddle. Her eyes were puffy and red instead of magenta, her mane was filthy, and she had not eaten real food in days. Yet, as much as she wanted to leave, she was still hesitant. The dark pit of her stomach howled at her to stay and consume; if she did not have bits to buy, she could steal more booze and finally forget.

“Okay, that does it,” she said quietly to herself. She was many things, but she was not a thief. Besides, there was an easier solution, a bottle of vodka she kept hidden in the apartment for such occasions. “It’s time to go home.” She picked herself up with a heave and groaned, not really looking forward to the trip, or the next morning, but, well, she hadn’t worried about tomorrow in days anyway, so screw it!

But just as she emerged from the dark alley like some kind of shambling monster, she was overcome by the sense that there was an even greater monster lurking about somewhere. Vinyl’s legs quaked as the sound washed over her, making her grit her teeth as the relentless barrage continued. “Argh!” she said before relenting and covering her ears. “What in Tartarus is that noise!?”

Unless her ears deceived her, it sounded a lot like a classical song she knew, but it was being assaulted by foals on a mega-dose of caffeine and a heavy metal band. She could not even tell if it was a live performance, or some novice working a mixing table, but it didn’t matter. Octavia could wait a little while longer; she had to know what demon was capable of making such horrible sound!

Vinyl closed her eyes and, though her ears screamed in protest, turned around and followed them down the other end of the alley and up the street to the right. Deep down inside, she was glad for this Celestia-awful music so that she would not have to keep focused on those pesky emotions that had robbed her a few good nights’ sleep.

Evidently, she was not the only one curious by the insult to all things music as she noticed many other ponies whom were still out and about that night walking with her towards the source. But, the closer she got, the less sure Vinyl became that it was either just a bad mixing attempt or some live event where the point might have been to play as badly as possible. Or… perhaps it could be both, the last logical part of her tired and alcohol-suffused mind suggested.

Mercifully, she found herself coming to the end of her short journey sooner rather than later as a musical setup of a mixing table and speakers could be sighted on the side of the street near a crowd of ponies. The mass kept a respectful distance from the booth; close enough for others to know that they were looking, yet far enough away as to not be associated with the ponies making asses of themselves for all of Canterlot to see.

In the low light, Vinyl could make out six ponies silhouetted by the streetlight behind them; mostly mares by the shapes and mostly unicorns, meaning they were likely Canterlot natives. You’d think they’d know better than to piss of the aristocrats, Vinyl thought as she once again covered her ears and watched. But then again, I never gave a shit about not pissing them off either. Normally, her curiosity would be satisfied by now, but the alcohol pushed her to get closer in order to know who would throw such a bad concert so late.

“How long do we have to keep this up!?” one of the ponies behind the console asked, shouting it in order to be heard over the music.

“Until either the cops show up and tell us to stop, or until she does!” another one answered.

Wait a tick, Vinyl thought as she drew close to the crowd. I know that voice, that’s--- but before she had a chance to complete her thought, a pony stepped out from behind the speakers. It was a grey earth pony mare with a pink bow tie with a rather gloomy look on her face, but that was not what was important at the moment. What mattered was what she was carrying!

She has my- so that means that equipment is- What in Celestia’s name is she DOING!? Vinyl had to stop herself from screaming as she saw the grey mare pull back the bow of the violin, her violin.

*** *** ***

Trepidation filled Octavia’s entire being as she stared at the instrument in her hooves. Already, she was committing sacrilege just by holding it and not being judged as worthy by the Moldavi family. What she was about to do was an atrocity, and for that she deserved a buck to the face from Vinyl, if she felt so inclined. Just… Just pretend you are not here, Octavia, she thought. You are not in your own body. You’ve been… hijacked by a spell! Yes, and it’s making you play horribly!

Her muscles tensed as she pulled back the bow and placed it on the strings. If she were in the audience, let her come out now and spare Octavia from making a foal of herself. Yet, the ponies in front of her continued to stare, and so there was no helping it. She drew the bow back over the strings and was surprised to find that she was not as bad as she feared: she was much worse!

This is beyond humiliating, the cellist thought to herself as she played the beautiful instrument like a foal in a music shop. Here I am, playing a Moldavi of all things, and I am completely butchering it! A shiver ran up her spine as the mere idea of the musical sin she was committing hit home. Please show up soon so I can maintain some dignity, Vinyl!

“What on Celestia’s green earth are you doing, Octy!?” shouted a voice among the crowd. Not a moment later, Vinyl Scratch shoved past the other ponies and trotted right up to Octavia with a similar look on her face as the last time she saw her. “And how in Tartarus did you get all of my equipment out here!?” Suddenly, the music died.

“Okay, ponies, show’s over, go on home!” Colgate shouted, popping up from behind one of the speakers. “Thank you for participating, you’ll get a cheque in the mail half past never! Nice mane, Scratchy.” The crowd started to disperse immediately afterward.

“Colgate?” Vinyl balked, only now looking away from Octavia. “Berry? Blind? Quick? Lyra!? What’s going on here?” Never before had the cellist seen such confusion on her face.

“It was story night and you never showed up,” Blind Charge said, standing atop of another speaker. “So we got worried and decided to look for you.”

“Fair enough, but that doesn’t explain why you stole my violin!” Vinyl shouted before taking it from Octavia in a swift wave of magic. The earth pony shook and recoiled slightly before she realized that she was not hit. Vinyl’s face immediately softened, having forgotten its former rage. She looked down at the instrument in her magical grip and drew the bow across once, generating a series of squeaks. “You didn’t even tune it,” she said before the knobs on the end twisted and she drew the bow back, creating a perfect note to the cellist’s ear.

“Well, Octavia, don’t you have something you need to say?” Lyra asked before stepping out from behind the booth.

“Yes… yes, I do. Vinyl?” Octavia asked, turning her head back to see the messy unicorn still transfixed by the instrument. “Vinyl,” she repeated, gently nudging her shoulder.

“Hmm?” the errant unicorn said, looking up and into Octavia’s eyes. “Oh, sorry. Just been a long time since this thing’s been outta the case is all,” she smiled.” I actually got it second-hoof at this neat shop down in Manehattan th-”

“Don’t lie to me, Vinyl,” Octavia interrupted. “One does not buy such an instrument second-hoof. Give me at least that much credit, would you?”

“Right, sorry,” she said quietly.

“No, don’t be. I’m the one who is sorry here,” the cellist said. There was a very brief silence as she considered her next words carefully, not knowing how violent a drunken unicorn could be. She could smell the nauseating amount of liquor on her breath and wondered in passing how she was even conscious, much less lucid. Octavia took a deep breath and closed her eyes, deciding to wing it.

“Vinyl Scratch, it was wrong of me to break your sunglasses and then toss them into the garbage, regardless of where they were or whose fault it might have been as to why they were there. I am sorry that I did not even ask before I threw them away, or why they were important to you in the first place. I’m… I can never imagine what it must feel like to lose something so precious to you, and to then have that reminder thrown away by one who could not see that same value.”

“Huh?” Vinyl interrupted. “What do you mea-”

“If you had told me why they meant so much to you, even one of those fake little stories you told most of your other friends, I would have hesitated to toss them in the trash. I don’t expect forgiveness, but still I offer you my most sincere apologies, Vinyl,” Octavia finished with a bow of her head.

“Is she high?” Vinyl looked to Lyra.

“I must apologize too, Vee,” the other unicorn replied. “I… I broke one of our oldest promises. I did so for your sake, but I still… I told them all about Alty. Please forgive me.”

At first, the mortified look returned to Vinyl Scratch’s face only to fade to anger, then back to upset, and finally settle on a deep frown in the space of a couple of seconds.

“No,” the DJ said sternly. “No I… you…” she trailed off. Silence came back over the scene as the others drew in close, worried about what they were hearing, yet keeping some distance from Vinyl. Octavia took a subconscious step back, expecting either a fight or flight reaction from the unicorn. She looked up and gave a quick glance at everypony present before looking down at the ground. “It was a stupid promise anyway, Lye,” Scratch sniffed. “But that still doesn’t forgive me for breaking mine…”

“Vinyl,” Octavia said, taking a step forward. “Alto Harmony sounds like she was a very loving and considerate pony.”

“Of course she was!”

“Well,” she continued. “do you honestly think she would want you to be so upset over just a pair of sunglasses? I understand they had sentimental value to you, but I don’t think she would have wanted you to go on a three day debauch and be this distraught over them when they were broken; she’d have known you could never keep them safe forever.”

Not a pony stirred or said a word after Octavia spoke. She figured most of them were waiting to see her reaction before they said or did anything, just in case. But what nopony ever expected was to hear what Vinyl had to say. “I’m not upset because of the sunglasses.”

“Huh!?” most of the ponies exclaimed.

“Come again?” Octavia spoke, blinking a little bit in shock.

“I mean,” she continued, voice a little low and an expression of pure shame in her eyes. “At first, I was upset that they were broken, yes, but that only lasted a couple of hours. What… what really upset me was… well…” she paused, eyes beginning to shimmer a little bit. “I made a promise to myself that I would never, under any circumstances, hit one of my friends… and yet I… and yet I… I…” The normally composed and cool mare sobbed like a little filly.

Octavia looked awkwardly towards the rest of Vinyl’s friends, but they all, including Lyra, looked just as perplexed as she did. She could empathize with the loss of the sunglasses affecting her roommate, certainly (though she herself would not have reacted the same way). Yet, to do what she did and to be gone for as long as she had, over hitting her once in the face? She… she really does see me as a friend. Deep down inside. But what about her? Did she see Vinyl Scratch as a friend, regardless of whatever social rank she might have?

Here was the most irksome mare she ever met sobbing like a lost filly right in front of her. She could have thought of a million ways to be mean or to hold this over head head when she got really annoying… but Octavia could not stomach those thoughts anymore. She took a deep breath and trotted over to the distraught unicorn and wrapped her into a tight hug.

“I forgive you, Vinyl,” Octavia said gently into her ear. However, rather than calm her down, it served only to make her cry even harder. She turned her head and looked over Vinyl’s shoulder, gesturing to the others with her eyes. At first, they just stood there, but with a little more encouragement, the friends finally got the message and joined in for a group hug.

“Ugh! What in Celestia’s mane is that smell!?” Quick Fix exclaimed after a moment of hugging.

“Eww. It smells like one of Pinchy’s old diapers,” Berry recoiled slightly.

“Vinyl…” Octavia said, not breaking off the hug. “What have you been rolling in?”

“Uh… the white pony replied. “I may have gone to the dump and dug through all the garbage to find my shades. I found them, and well, I gotta agree that they were beyond saving. That’s why I’m not upset about them!”

“Eugh!” everypony else said in disgust before quickly removing themselves from her proximity. “Well, we found her, Octavia apologized and all's right with the world again. Who wants to go spend the night at my place?” Lyra asked quickly. “But I have dibs on the bathroom first. I might be your friend, but I must also be a proper hostess.”

“Speaking of baths,” Octavia said, rounding on the white unicorn. “I’ll see you ponies later. I have about three washes to do before this one is presentable.”

Vinyl Scratch squeaked slightly as she felt Octavia clamp down on her tail and start dragging her away. “W-wait! No! I can bathe myself! Lyra! Grape! Charger! Anypony! Talk her out of it!”

“Sorry Vinyl,” Colgate said while wafting her hoof in front of her face. “But we’re with Octavia on this one.”

“Nooo~! You’re not supposed to agree with her yet! How did you become friends so fast!? Heeeelllllp~!” she cried uselessly as she was dragged off to her soapy fate.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby, Scratch. Even Pinchy loves her bathy-wathys now~!” Berry said in a sing-song tone.

Fruitlessly, the white unicorn continued to thrash and writhe, all the while giving her friends, whom were putting everything away, a most venomous and betrayed look. “Honestly, Scratch, what would you do without me?” Octavia shook her head as she dragged the unicorn along. And when nopony else could see her melodrama, Vinyl Scratch allowed herself a smile.

~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~

~Four Months Later~

The autumn breeze was light yet still chilled the bones when it blew, as her winter coat had not yet grown. But despite that, it was a clear and sunny afternoon: almost perfect for a stroll outdoors before the snow and cold robbed her of that luxury. Octavia Melody could not help but look around at the leaves on the trees and imagine, for a brief while, a million pegasi painting the colours on each individual leaf. To think all of this splendor and colour was natural --- well, it hardly seemed possible.

“This is a very beautiful spot,” Octavia said to her companion. Vinyl Scratch trotted alongside her, confident and wearing that smug smile as always. Though she herself decided to wear a purple scarf that afternoon, the DJ was content to wear nothing out of the ordinary. She looked around when the cellist spoke for a minute before focusing back on the path.

“Yeah, it kinda is,” she said with a little more restraint and less volume than normal.

“Are you… sure that you want to wear those here?” the cellist asked. “I mean, I know they’re not the same, and I know how you feel abou-”

“No, no,” Vinyl interrupted, looking into Octavia’s eyes from behind her purple shades. “It’s fine. I just… never saw another pair like them ever again. I kinda thought they were unique and stuff. Maybe that’s why I treasured them so much. Thanks for them again, by the way.” They were exactly like the ones she used to have, but were a little newer and better-kept.

“We’ve been over this, there is nothing wrong with placing sentimental value on an object,” Octavia said, gesturing to the big, black case slung on her back as an example. “I told you the story of how my nana gave me her cello before she passed, remember?”

“Yeah,” the unicorn said with a sigh. “I wish you told me that before I used your bow to help… um… relieve myself that one time,” she added with a slight blush.

“I thought it would have been implicit that you not use my things like a back scratcher, but I suppose I was wrong in that regard. Apology accepted.”

The two mares fell silent as a group of ponies came past from the opposite direction, not a smile on one of their faces, in true Canterlot fashion. Even Vinyl’s grin faded away for the moment that they came by, which was surprised to Octavia, to say the least. She had thought that the unicorn never cared about such things. I suppose some habits are hard to kill, she mused.

“Do you really still want to do this, Vinyl?” Octavia asked when they were out of earshot of the group. She cast her gaze to the violin case on the unicorn’s back, still a little taken aback about how they would use the afternoon.

“I don’t want to,” Vinyl admitted quietly as they went under a canopy of multihued leaves. “But I need to. I’ve turned a corner, thanks in no small part to you, Octy, but…” she trailed, looking around before she stopped in the middle of the path, causing Octavia to pause as well. “I need to turn this corner on my own.”

The cellist frowned and walked ahead of the unicorn to face her directly, indignant at having carried around her rather heavy cello all this way only to be told not to follow. “Then why am I here if you need to do this on your own!?” she asked with her voice raised. “I thought you brought me out here because you needed emotional support!”

Vinyl took off her shades and blinked, tucking them above her horn. There was a slight bit of confusion in those magenta eyes, which caused Octavia to back off a little. “Every melody needs a harmony, Octavia. Surely, you know that, and there’s nopony I’d rather have as my harmony than you,” she smiled.

“I… yo-... wa- what!?” Octavia stammered, feeling her cheeks heat up in a blush and the cold wind lash against her tongue with her mouth open so wide. It did not help matters that Vinyl inched closer, causing the cellist to sit on her flank like a scared school filly.

“You heard me, Octy,” she continued with a sultry tone and a seductive sparkle in her eyes. “I brought you here because I want… no… I need you to be my harmony. So… will you?”

Octavia’s heart started doing laps in her chest and, if she had any little Octavias in her head, they would all be screaming and throwing a combined fit as her mind had lost its ability to form a coherent response. Especially as the two mare’s lips inched closer and closer together by the second. “Th-this isn’t… isn’t a good place to talk about such things!” she squeaked, blushing even harder.

“Really, because I can’t think of anywhere more fitting to ask this of you,” Vinyl said with her voice low, almost whispering into her ears. Their eyes were glued on one another, though Octavia could see Vinyl’s mouth open just a tiny little bit as the gap closed. “So, will you Octavia?”

The cellist opened her mouth to protest, but all that come out was a groan and incoherent babble as the gap between their muzzles practically vanished from existence. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening! she thought in a panic as the blush on her cheeks threatened to engulf her entire face. She squeaked as she thought she felt something poke her muzzle. “Aaahhh~!” she shouted before jumping and nearly falling onto her back.

Vinyl Scratch stood there grinning at her for a second, before a bout of giggles started to overcome her. “Oh Celestia, the look on your face!” she managed through the mirth. “Did you really think I was gonna kiss you? I mean, not that you ain’t bad to look at, but seriously? Out here!? Hahahaha~!”

A new kind of blush developed on Octavia’s cheeks as she picked herself up from the ground. “You… you acted amorous on purpose! I can’t believe you brought me out here, lugging my cello, which is incredibly heavy I must emphasize, and make some stupid joke! Vinyl Scratch, you, you, you… shit disturber!”

“I got you to swe-ear~! I got you to swe-ear~!” Vinyl chanted in sing-song while grinning victoriously.

“I’m going home!” Octavia shouted before turning her back on Vinyl and trotting away.

“Woah, woah, woah, hold the phone, Tavi!” Vinyl said quickly, rushing over to stop her from leaving. “I was being serious. I mean, maybe not the romancy tone and kissing and stuff, but I… I really do need a harmony for this. I have a promise to keep and, well, it won’t sound as good without you there. Please?” Doleful eyes looked back into Octavia’s and, while she was mad at her, she could not help but feel herself relent.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But let’s do this seriously.”

“Sure,” the DJ replied simply. They continued walking down the path together, with little space between the two of them as they went, Octavia noted. However, it was not close enough for her to call attention to it either. Not that she minded in particular, especially due to how nippy the air was.

More ponies, this time dressed in black, came down the path towards them and eventually passed the two mares in silence. Octavia had no problem keeping her stoic demeanour, as she was well-practiced in doing so under just about any circumstance. Vinyl, on the other hoof, just kept grinning except for when a group of ponies would come their way. She could not say for sure, since reading Vinyl was a challenge even on a good day, but she liked to think that she was grinning because she was nervous.

Finally, after many minutes of walking, Vinyl stopped and gestured for Octavia to follow. She stepped off the path and between the rows of graves flanking her at either side. The grass was green and very well-kept, scarcely showing that fall was there and that soon enough the ground would be frozen and covered in snow.

With the exception of a family congregating a few hundred yards away, the two mares were alone as they crossed the row, going past graves of ponies past. It was a queer feeling of serenity and sadness as Octavia followed, having not really been to a cemetery in living memory. A frown manifested on her face as she wondered what was going on inside of Vinyl’s head at that moment.

However, inevitably Vinyl stopped in front of one of the larger headstones and looked down at it with a frown. Octavia cast her glance to the monument as well and read the epitaph, just below the symbol of a cutie mark: an old fashioned microphone.

Here lies Alto Harmony, alias “DJ Flare”

Beloved daughter, sister, and musician of renown. May your song ring loud, proud and true in the Elysian Fields so that your loved ones may be reunited in time.

“No mare is an island, entire of itself. Each is a piece of the continent; a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Equestria is the less. As well as if a promontory were. As well as if a manor of thine own or of thine friend’s were. Each pony’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in Ponykind. Therefore, send not to know for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee. - L. Dreamwalker”

Rest in Peace.

Thankfully nothing had happened or been said until Octavia had finished reading, but only just barely. “Alty,” Vinyl spoke so softly that she had almost not heard it. “I’m… I’m so sorry I haven’t visited. Not since that day. I… I was afraid. I thought you might think me a coward or something even worse, so I didn’t come back until now. Please, forgive me for keeping my promise not to play again until you were better. I know you would have wanted me to play for your burial… I hope this will suffice instead.”

A glow of magic encapsulated the violin case and lifted it off of her back before opening to show the beautiful violin that lay within it. Octavia had to do a little more work to get her cello off her back and set up, but Vinyl waited patiently. When Octavia finally stood on her hind legs and prepared to play, she was surprised to see the unicorn doing the same. Vinyl too stood on her hind legs with her forehooves poised to play, nodding her head to let her know that she was ready.

Vinyl drew her bow across the strings once before the knobs on the instrument became enveloped in magic, obviously not correct to her discerning ears. But it only took one more draw for her to be satisfied and actually begin to play. While Octavia knew what song they were to play, what she did not count on was to be be left speechless as the slow, sad melody started. She was meant to come in immediately, and yet she lingered.

She had heard musicians play before and while most had been adequate, and a few even decent, as the few notes that played echoed in her ears she found Vinyl to be… exceptional. Every note was deliberate, precise and, most importantly of all, was a window into her saddened heart. Octavia could more than just hear how sad Vinyl was in the moment; she could feel it as if she too felt that way, causing her eyes to water.

And yet, a pointed look from the DJ reminded her of the part she had to play in this piece and so she drew her bow and entered at an opportune moment. The contrast was staggering to Octavia as she played. By comparison, her part felt… wooden and rigid where Vinyl was weaving a fine silk. For the first time in her life, she was completely and utterly outclassed. And yet, instead of being mad or upset, she was joyful: joyful that she could share in this music, and that she had given her friend the peace of mind to finally bare her soul this way for the first time since she was a filly.

Tears crept from her eyes as the song continued, staining her grey cheeks despite herself. Yet, while Vinyl was completely and wholly concentrated, Octavia’s eye wandered through the cemetery. Everypony in earshot had stopped to listen to them, even ponies for the burial taking place just a short distance away had turned their heads to listen while the priest continued his sermon.

Octavia had never been more aware of her playing than she was in those few, scant moments the song lasted for. While she did her best to not be completely hollow and lifeless, she still could never hold a candle to the DJ, and in the end she stopped trying to compete and just played, reveling in the moment instead.

All too soon, the song ended and she pulled her bow off the strings. Unlike every other audience, there was no applause, just still, deathly silence. And yet, somehow she felt it was the most appreciative audience she had ever played for. “Not bad,” Vinyl smirked as she got back onto four legs. “Thank you, Octavia. Thank you so much. I couldn’t have done it alone.” And when Octavia looked back at her, she could see she was crying.

“And thank you, Vinyl,” Octavia said before giving her a hug. “I’ve never played with a better violinist.” The hug lasted a moment or two while she let her friend cry in private, breaking off only when she was sure she was finished. “How about we go get something to eat. My treat,” she suggested. As much as it felt awkward to see the DJ cry, she knew that, deep inside, it was good for her to let those bottled emotions out at last, and if it were appropriate, she would smile. But the time for mirth and merriment would be soon anyway.

“I’d love that, Tavi,” Vinyl said as they packed up. Together the two friends left the headstone to their tails and walked off. They walked onwards to a happier and brighter future where the two of them could be more open with one another and hopefully remain friends until the end of their days. And yet, someone had not moved on: not yet, at any rate.

*** *** ***

“Heh, what did I tell you?” A disembodied voice said quietly in a place no pony could hear. She sat in front of the stone with a smile as wide as a mile on her muzzle, nudging an old stallion that sat beside her. “Did I tell you she was the shit or what?”

“Yes, yes you did, Alto,” the stallion said in a grump. “And you don’t need to swear like that either.”

Alto Harmony grinned. “‘Course I do. I’m dead and can do whatever the hell I want!” She sat up and stretched. “Dear Vinyl… It was so good to see you again, and to hear you play one last time.” The grin she shared with her sibling faded and became more of a sad smile. “I think I can move on, now that you have.” And to every other ghost, or spiritually aware pony, she began to fade. “Goodbye, my dear sister. Make me proud. I want to hear all of your awesome stories when you come to join me.” Her ghostly voice echoed long after she finally passed on.

*** *** ***

As Vinyl trotted away from the cemetery, she felt as if her hoofsteps had become ten times lighter and that a great weight on her soul had been lifted. Never in a million years would she forget her dear sister, but now she could finally move on and be free to… to just be herself instead of hiding her sorrow. With her friends, old and new at her side, why, she could do just about anything!

~The End~

Author's Note

So what song did they play in the graveyard?

I dunno! It's up to you! Personally speaking, I like to imagine them playing Ave Maria or Nearer My God to Thee.

Thank you all so much for reading!