Load up on guns and bring your friends
It's fun to lose and to pretend
She's over bored and self assured
Oh no, I know a dirty word
The lyrics of my favorite song travel through my ears and into my soul. Now was a time for relaxing. I kick back in the old recliner and put my hooves up, attempting to catch some Z's. With my Epod by my side and my Cleats by Dr. Hay over my ears, I close my eyes behind my shades and allowed my music to overcome me.
Hello, hello, hello, how low?
Hello, hello, hello, how low?
Hello, hello, hello, how low?
Hello, hello, hello!
Just as I sigh and begin to doze, I feel something lightly slap me on my lap. Lifting my shades and pausing my music, I look down to find the culprit: an opened envelope. Upon looking higher, I see an unamused Octavia looking down on me.
"It's your time to pay rent," she explains to me in her usual uptight accent. We were flatmates with an agreement that instead of splitting the bill 50/50, we'd take turns each month paying it full. It was a good compromise considering we were both musicians living gig-to-gig.
"I can pay tomorrow," I inform her. "I got a gig at the Blue Lagoon tonight. Just let me chillax, Tavi. I won't be late again."
Octavia rolls her eyes at my promise and looks back at me with the same unamused look. "Funny, you said the same last time, and the time before. Honestly, it's like I'm living with a foal who drinks twice her weight in martinis every midnight! And you know I hate being called 'Tavi'!" She walks away in a storm to continue whatever she was doing beforehand. I likewise return to my past doings, putting on my headphones and pressing play. I sit back and listen to the story told through the musicians' lyrics.
With the lights out, it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us
A mulatto
An albino
A mosquito
My libido
Yay!
Octavia and I are best buds; hell, I loved the mare, but damn sometimes she's real uppity about things. She always likes things to be perfect; "It's your turn on dishes Vinyl!", "Vinyl, turn that crap down! I can't hear my Beethoofen!", or my favorite "For the last time Vinyl, the toilet paper goes on the roll facing you!" Geez, and I'm the foal. And don't get me started on trying to hook with someone at a club with her around. Wanna know the definition of a Class A cock-block? Octavia.
I'm worse at what I do best
And for this gift I feel blessed
Our little group has always been
And always will until the end
Hello, hello, hello, how low?
Hello, hello, hello, how low?
Hello, hello, hello, how low?
*CRASH*. I jump up at the sudden sound and take off my headphones to listen for Octavia. "What the hell was that?" I call out to the kitchen, where the sound had come from, hoping she didn't break my signed Kissed record.
Octavia pokes her head into the room after a few seconds and holds up a halved plate. "Calm your flank. It was just a dish," she says, actually chill about something broken for once (well, she was the one who broke it instead of me). She returns to the kitchen like it never happened.
I roll my eyes and sit back again, realizing I forgot to pause my Epod. Putting on my headphones for a second to check, I make sure I didn't miss...
A mosquito
My Libido
I grit my teeth and yell at Octavia. "Damn it, Tavi! You made me miss the chorus!" I bark to the grey mare without removing my Cleats by Dr. Hay. I shut out all sounds by turning up the music, so as not to hear her bitch back to me, "Don't call me Tavi!"
I lay back, hopefully for the last time, to enjoy the guitar solo before the last bits of lyrics. Even though I missed my favorite lyrics, at least I didn't miss the best solo in the history of solos. My head gives into the magic of the music and begins to slightly keep beat to the notes by rocking back and forth. Damn, how sweet it is! Life has its ups and downs, but music is what keeps us going.
After 42 seconds of awesome guitar, drum and bass (yes, I counted how long it lasted), the singer, Coltbain, continues his ballad:
And I forget just why I taste
Oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile
I found it hard, it was hard to find
Oh well, whatever, nevermind
There it was, the last bit of lyrics. And now, the chorus. Or at least, it would be the chorus, had I not butt-skipped to the next song.
It's nine o'clock on a Saturday
The regular crowd shuffles in
"Dammit!" I curse to myself. "Can't I have just one moment where I can chillax and listen to my beats?" I throw off my headphones and toss my Epod across the room, pissed at my luck. I sit in angered silence for a few more seconds before looking back at the Epod. I raise an eyebrow and contemplate my next move. Sighing in defeat, I walk over to the Epod, pick it up and put the headphones back on. Listening to the soft yet good music, I sit back down and give it a shot.
Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me my drinks for free
And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke
But there's someplace that he'd rather be
"And the piano sounds like a carnival
And the microphone smells like a beer
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say 'Man what are you doing here?' "
My eyes started to slightly tear up as I relayed each lyric out loud to myself, feeling a weird bliss after listening to my second favorite song. I'm smiling to myself with eyes closed as the world disappears around me, and replacing with the sweet melody that was Piano Mare.
I open my eyes less than a minute later when the song is finished and see Octavia in front of me. She looks down at me with a look of "What the buck?" on her face. I instantly turn off my music and sit up, blushing.
"Don't judge," I defend myself, stopping my blushing and putting on a serious look.
"Yeah, right," she sighs, rolling her eyes and walking away. "Whatever you say."
I turn back to the Epod and put it away, the mood long dead. I check the time and see it's time for me to leave. I mumble something even I couldn't understand and grab my bag, leaving home and going to the club.
