Wireless Connection

"Couldn't you have picked a more reasonable couch?" sneered Octavia's mother. "This one is ghastly."

"I picked the couch," argued Vinyl. "What's wrong with my couch?"

"You have no taste," spat her father. "A good couch ties the room together. This colour; so garish, it contrasts with everything else in here. Plus, it's close to the kitchen, so it's impossible to relax. I can see the stove from here. You should never be able to see your stove from the couch."

Vinyl shook her head. "That's ridiculous. How are you going to know when your water's boiling if you can't see the stove?"

"That's not your problem," said her mother. "Let your cook handle that."

Vinyl was about to laugh, but a stern look from Octavia told her to drop it. She knew Octavia came from money and class, and that she hadn't had to figure things out for most of her life, but having her own cook? Vinyl was the breadwinner in this household, and even she couldn't afford a live-in cook. Not even close.

"How long did you say you'd be staying?"

Octavia's father scowled. "You're very rude, you know that?"

"The worst," smiled Vinyl. "Sorry to hear that you couldn't stay, but that train back home isn't gonna catch itself."

"It isn't "going to" catch itself," corrected Octavia's mother. "And we are not scheduled to leave until after nightfall."

"H-how about a tour, hm?" suggested Octavia. "I'll show my parents around the house while you talk to the "cook" about dinner."

Vinyl could see the panic on Octavia's face, begging her to help break up this conversation. She put on a smile and leaned forward. "I'll do just that."

As she moved to the kitchen and Octavia moved down the hall, she could still hear her parents complaining about the place. But rather than hearing it though the hallway, she could hear it in her headphones around her neck. She figured she must have left her microphone on when she was cleaning up. That would mean she'd need to charge it later, to keep the batteries at capacity, but for now, it gave her an ear on the situation.

"Honestly, I don't understand why you don't just kick her out," said Octavia's mother. "She's obviously on drugs."

"She's not on drugs, mother..."

"Your mother's right. Who wears sunglasses inside the house, where there's no sun? Drug users, that's who."

"Those are corrective lenses. They're mirrored so that she doesn't have to change glasses when she goes outside."

But nopony can see her eyes. Do you even know what colour they are?"

"Her eyes are red, mother."

"You see?" snorted her father. "Red eyes are an obvious sign of drug use. That's probably why your house smells awful, too."

"Have you been using as well?" accused her mother. "You can tell us if you are."

"Mother, I'm not on any drugs."

"Of course you're not, sweetheart. We'll wait out here while you pee in this cup."

That line caught Vinyl off-guard, and she had to brace herself hard to keep from bursting out laughing. She was glad Tavi'd come to her defense, despite the fact that she was taking a prescription proton pump inhibitor, but she didn't like hearing how uncomfortable Octavia was right now.

"Why don't these doors open?" asked Octavia's father. "Did she break the handles?"

"She probably locked them," answered Octavia. "She doesn't like it when ponies she doesn't know go about touching her stuff." She then mumbled something that Vinyl couldn't make out, but she could guess.

"I'm surprised," scoffed her mother. "I looked in through the window, and there's nothing in there worth stealing. Unless she has it hidden in a box under her bed, or something."

"Mother..."

"What? Drug addicts always keep something under their bed in case they need a fix at night."

"She works at night."

"So she's a dealer." concluded her dad.

There was a thump, then what sounded like Octavia whispering. "I should have just let the guard arrest you..."

Vinyl was sure Octavia had pressed her head against Vinyl's door in frustration, as she couldn't quite make out what her parents said next, but was easily able to hear even the slightest whine from her marefriend. Perhaps it was time to torture Octavia in a different way. Not in a way that would give her dread, like her parents did, but in a way that she'd probably forgive by the end of the day, and if not, by the end of the week, for sure.

After something her mother said that was muffled by Octavia being pressed against the door, Octavia responded, "I have, mother. I was in Canterlot last month, on tour. I stopped in at Treble's place and talked to him about Hearth's Warming plans. In fact, I went all the way to Manehattan for work two weeks ago, and I stopped at the house, but you weren't in. The butler said you were Cape Carnival. I had to work, so I couldn't wait three days for you to come ba--"

Octavia suddenly slammed against the door, stifling a moan. With her body pressed to the wood, Vinyl could hear the soft hum of the butt plug and the light whimpers of Tavi's moaning.

"I'm not ignoring you, mother," Octavia breathed, trying to hold herself together in front of her parents. "Why do you think I accepted your invitation to come down here and tell me how shabby and unkempt my house is? Why would I let you come here and insult me if I didn't care for you, even a little bit?"

"Now that's uncalled for," growled her father. "Your mother has been nothing but nice to you this whole time."

"The very first thing she said to me was that my topiaries were bland and tasteless."

"Well, they are, dear."

"Those are trees, mother! Normal, healthy, tree-shaped trees!"

"And infested," interjected her father.

"A squirrel and two birds do not an infestation make. And I'll have you know, those birds were invited. We feed them."

"You shouldn't feed them," replied her mother. "That's only going to encourage them to come back."

"We intend for them to come back," sighed Octavia.

As if in agreement, Vinyl sent two pulses. "Hear, hear," they meant. As they arrived, Octavia knew that Vinyl was listening to every word they said. She didn't know how, but that didn't matter right now. She just knew that somepony was watching her back, and playing with her backside.