True friends are a very rare thing. They’re the friends who never let go, no matter how old the two of you become. Though distance and the passing of time may be a hindrance, the bond you share with each other will remain. A bond that was created with laughter, camaraderie, and memories. True friends will always forgive you, no matter how badly the two of you fight.
Eh... well. Kinda.
Take me and Tavi for instance. Complete opposites. I’m fun …and Tavi is… well, Tavi. We bickered like an old married couple so much, we thought it would just be easier to make it official, you know? So we moved in together, became roommates, and decided to split the bills.
Lemme tell you, not a single day goes by without some craziness.
Like, this one time I caught Tavi in the shower with her–OW! Okay, okay! Lighten up Tavi, I’m telling them the story! No, not THAT story, THIS story. What you do in your own time is–No Tavi! Don't you dare touch my CD!
Sorry about that, folks.
Point is, Octavia was my mare. She always has had my back. Come hell or high water.
Although, in this particular incident, it was proving to be a mixture of both.
“I think it goes without saying that this has been one of our more…unsuccessful excursions.”
“Gee Tavi, ya think?” Vinyl spat as she squirmed in her cocoon of chains.
Octavia, by contrast, seemed entirely impassive as she appraised their current dilemma. “I was merely making an observation, Vinyl. No need to act snippy.”
The unicorn in question groaned and silently beat her head against the ceiling she was currently bolted onto. With any luck, this was a horrible dream and she could beat herself into consciousness. All it accomplished, however, was speeding up her migraine.
Across from her was a gray earth-pony, with an even darker gray mane; a familiar visage that was only complete with the loose collar and pink bow tie around her neck. True, the chains that bound the mares together were definitely a new look, but Vinyl could dig it.
On all four sides of them were featureless steel walls, and below them, about ten feet of hot, roaring water. Hot water, which Vinyl noted, that was steadily becoming closer and closer as the ceiling they were bolted to slowly descended.
Vinyl was positive she saw the flash of silver scales amidst the churning froth.
“Well,” Octavia said after a moment of thought, “look at the bright side.”
“There’s a bright side to this?!”
“Actually, I’m not sure; give me a moment.”
Even with the shades masking them from view, the cellist could still feel a pair of ruby eyes burning holes into her skull with her gaze. “All of my hate Octavia, all of my hate...” Vinyl muttered, as the water swallowed them both and her vision became obscured by bubbles.
If you want to know just how the buck this happened, then we might have a bit of a story ahead of us. For those of you who are faint at heart, I’m gonna give you fair warning:
Octavia is one crazy bitch.
Scratch'd
Chapter 1
“SCORE!”
Vinyl Scratch threw up her hooves in cheer as the soda can rolled around the rim once, and then clattered in. She got up to stand on both hind-legs and waved her hooves to the non-existent crowd. “And the crowd goes wild! Star player Vinyl Scratch wins the game! Raaaaaaah! Raaaaaaaah! Raaaa-"
“Vinyl! Shut up and sit down!"
The unicorn could only grin. “What’s the matter? I’m not disturbing you, am I?”
“No Vinyl. I absolutely adore the sound of you acting like a foal.”
“See? I knew there just had to be a motherly bone somewhere in your body! Where’d you find it, Tavi?”
Octavia’s brow furrowed. “Almost a thousand bits a month for an apartment in Canterlot, and I’m still forced to live like a Uni student.” Octavia muttered crossly to herself. Vinyl snickered and sat down again in the middle of their bedroom, flipping open the book at her hooves.
The only word to describe Vinyl’s part of the living space was loud. A mishmash of posters fought for wall space amidst crudely framed records and club paraphernalia. Her bed looked as though it had never been made since the day it was purchased (it hadn’t), and a cluster of electronic hardware parts was spread haphazardly across her desk.
Octavia’s side was, of course, perfect as usual. While Vinyl’s side screamed “freedom, baby!”, Octavia’s domain was the exact opposite. Blank walls, neatly made bed, spotless floor.
And neatly dividing the two realms was a piece of tape.
The rules of the house were simple: so long as Vinyl’s atrocious (audacious) living conditions did not cross the line and encroach on Octavia’s space, harmony would ensue. Provided, of course, Octavia kept her end of the deal and refrained from cleaning her roommate's mess (organized chaos). Then it was war.
Despite the stark contrast, both musicians sat against each other, pressed back to back. To one unfamiliar with the mares, one would have mistaken this as a romantic gesture. In reality, it was more a sign of endearment the two friends had for each other; they're own way of knowing the other was at hoof. It also let the ever lazy Vinyl use her friend's shoulder as a head-rest when she could get away with it.
With a flick of magic, the door to the mini fridge opened and another can of energy drink floated to Vinyl’s hooves.
“Those things will be the death of you,” Octavia muttered behind her, not even breaking stride in her work, her quill held beneath her hoof and fetlock.
The unicorn chuckled and popped open the top of the can with a satisfying ‘fssk’. “You worry about me too much.”
“Oh, believe me. The only reason I’m saying anything is because you pay half of the rent, and I enjoy living here." A grey hoof came to rest just below the cellist’'s chin. "Although," Octavia said thoughtfully, "I'm sure your equipment would fetch enough bits for a few months. And your Samurai Afrojack collection is sure to fetch at least a few buyers-"
“Har. Har. I’m touched that you care.”
"I'm only looking out for your best interests, Vinyl. It's not like you eat healthy to begin with." Octavia gave a glance at the stack of nearly ancient take-out cartons that overflowed from Vinyl’s wastebin.
“It is healthy!” Vinyl protested. She waved the soda in front of Octavia’s face. “It says so right on the can here,” the white unicorn said as she pointed at the miniscule text at the bottom of the logo, “’Made with natural flavours!’ Natural flavors, Octavia. Natural.”
An unamused Octavia pushed the drink away.
“A thousand years from now, archeologists will find the ruins of the ancient city of Canterlot and amongst the rubble, do you know what they’ll find?” Octavia leaned back so the back of her head rested against the unicorn’s. “Your perfectly preserved body, laying on top a mound of tin cans.”
“Heh,” Vinyl chuckled at the thought, “so it’ll outlast the goddesses themselves. What’s your point, Tavi?”
“For Celestia’s sake, Vinyl, its glows!”
“I know! Isn’t it sweet?” Vinyl asked before knocking back another can with relish. Within a few gulps, she had drained it of its chemically goodness and sent it flying to the waste bin, earning another two points for her team. “I’m thinking ‘nother couple dozen of these and I’ll get super powers!”
“Or cancer,” Octavia shot back.
“Or superpowers.”
“Or cancer.”
The DJ grabbed another energy drink from the fridge. “You have no imagination.”
Octavia gave an indignant scoff but remained silent, choosing instead to focus her precious sanity on her own work.
With a satisfied smirk of victory on her lips, Vinyl opened her prize and turned back to her music.
Or... what was suppose to be music.
Vinyl idly sipped her drink and stared at the pages in front of her. As had been the norm of late, the lines were blank today. They had been blank yesterday, just like how they were blank day before that, and the day before that! The reason?
Because she hadn’t written anything.
The words made the DJ’s stomach flip. Vinyl forced down another shaky sip of soda to calm it, but it merely burned like acid in her stomach.
Four months.
That was how long been since Equestria’s self-proclaimed “greatest DJ” had last truly produced anything.
Oh sure, she had produced a few things. There had been remixes aplenty from her, all her own takes on new songs and old songs alike. Couple of beat-matches. She was still a master behind her equipment. But there hadn't been anything by her lately. No music that had been solely and uniquely... hers.
Vinyl sighed quietly to herself and tried to smooth the page she was on. The notebook itself wasn’t anything special; it had certainly seen better days. Some pages were stained, others dog-eared. But regardless of its condition it was priceless to her. Previous pages held older pieces that had been scratched out, and the countless revisions of those pieces. And with those, a variety of other things; phone numbers of fellow musicians, notes to herself, lists of equipment parts and where to get them.
It was where her music came from.
It wasn’t anything like what Octavia was doing. No DJ ever worked with something like traditional sheet music, with chords and bars and the like. It was always so much more hooves on. You tinkered with the music, pulled at it, until you got it sounding the way you wanted it too. But everypony needed a reference point. That was what ‘The Book’ was for.
It was a base to start from. She would always get the tune down on pages first. After that, she’d take it right to her keyboard and work from there. But the beginning always came from here.
The record studios had been patient... at first. Whenever they had inquired on her progress, she had assured them that she was working on it. That or she had devised some half-flanked excuse as for why she didn't have anything. Once she had somehow even convinced them that her next piece would have to be forestalled due to a minor mouse infestation in their apartment. She was still in shock that they had bought that as a legit excuse.
Its not liked the studios were a big deal. Yes, the endorsement they brought a minor musician was nice, but a majority of her income came from the various gigs she had around Canterlot and that would always remain steady. Even if she was to truly give up making music, there would always be a need for somepony to spin records somewhere.
No... what she was truly bothered by was that she was losing fans.
Her eyes flicked to a stack of old newspapers, carelessly tossed under her bed. She had meticulously saved every entertainment article that had made mention of her. There was just something so gratifying about them. She could help but grin like an idiot every time she saw her stage name, DJ-PON3, appear within the Canterlot Times. Her favourite one, an issue from almost a year ago, had called her “Canterlot’s Nighttime Renaissance”.
That had all stopped about four months ago.
Since then, new DJs had sprung up in the clubs. New faces to stand behind the equipment and spin the records. New names to be on everypony’s lips. Ponies were raving about (and to) G@PT, the duo Draft Princess, and the ever famous DJ-TR33.
Most of them were amateurs, Vinyl reminded herself. Nothing more than weekend DJs with a sudden interest of dubtrot or techno. Musicians who would dabble in the genre, and then move onto something else once they were bored. They weren't the real deal like she was. They didn't thrive off their work.
There was no doubt that she was a performer at heart. Vinyl still couldn’t believe the rush she got when she was up on stage and cranked the bass juuuuuuust right. The strobe would spin and twist over the ponies who came for a good time, and she would give them one. Then they would dance to Her. The crowd loved her. They chanted her name. She was their entertainer, their idol, their goddess. She made them feel alive. She relished in their adoration and it was them, not the paycheck, that made DJ-PON3 love doing what she did.
But lately, different ponies stood in the spotlight. For every twenty amateurs, there was at least one pony with something to offer. It was them, not Vinyl Scratch, who were now being featured.
She took a deep breath, suddenly aware of how tense her body had become. The white unicorn rolled her shoulders in a weak attempt to relax. This was stressing her out again and Vinyl knew she was useless if she was stressed. She needed to take a hot shower and relax. She needed to clear her mind. Go for a walk. Watch some television. She could come back to this in an hour. Maybe two. In fact, she actually would have better luck if she tackled this first thing tomorrow-
Vinyl had to stay her hoof from slapping herself in the face. That was the exact same trap that she fell into time and time again. She'd find some reason to push the work off for an hour, and then another hour, and so on until the entire day had gone by. This had repeated, day after day, week after week, month after-
No. Today she was going to do it. Today she was going to sit down and create masterpieces that would bring the house down!
Balls to it.
Vinyl’s horn glowed as she reached out with her magic and snatched a pen from a nearby desk on her side of the room. With new determination coursing through her veins, Vinyl Scratch removed her glasses and sat them next to her. The time for fooling around and excuses was over. The pen spun in her magic with flourish as the DJ prepared to go into her zone. She could do this. She still had it in her.
The pen tip froze a hair breadth away from the page.
Vinyl choked on her soda as her mind became as blank as the lines in front of her.
What was wrong?! All she had to do was start writing notes. Any sort of notes would do, so long as she got started. That’s what mattered, right? Right?
She KNEW what she wanted. Vinyl knew exactly what the song was suppose to sound like. At least, she thought she did. The mare had to admit that some parts were fuzzy, but for the most part, it was all there. She just needed to write it.
Vinyl looked up from the booklet and brushed a strand of electric blue hair that broken free of its usual defiance of gravity. If the clock on her desk was to be trusted, an hour had slipped away without her even noticing. A frustrated groan escaped her lip. She just wanted to get this over with.
...and yet, she couldn’t do it. No matter how much she wanted herself too, Vinyl just couldn’t bring herself to even start. Some nonexistent force stayed her magic and kept her from making so much as a mark.
Just another unproductive day for everypony except-
‘Octavia…’ Vinyl Scratch thought bitterly. She glanced behind her and sure enough, Octavia’s quill was still going at full speed, slowly filling page after page with small black bubbles. The mare hummed an unknown tune to herself, completely absorbed in whatever new suite she had come up with.
Then suddenly, she stopped. The mare made a final note on her parchment, set her quill to the side, and nodded in approval.
“It’s finally done.” Octavia whispered with an ounce of tired relief in her voice.
“Finished already?” Vinyl asked as Octavia got up to stretch her hooves.
“Mhm.” she answered, her music sheet in her mouth. She carefully deposited the finished product on her desk, a satisfied smile on her face. “And not a moment too soon.”
“That’s awesome, Tavi. You’ll have to let me listen to it sometime.” Vinyl muttered half-heartedly.
“You first.”
Vinyl turned her head to see the mare standing behind her. The first thing that Vinyl noticed was that Octavia had taken her bow-tie and collar off.
“Well?” Octavia asked, looking expectantly at her.
Vinyl blinked back in confusion. “Well what?”
“Wasn’t there something you were going to let me listen to? Something that was suppose to ‘blow me away.’ You couldn’t stop talking about it last night.”
“Wha-” Vinyl said lamely before she caught herself. “I mean- yeah! Psh, yeah. New piece I uh... just came up with. Do you- uh.. want to listen to it?”
Octavia rolled her eyes. “No. I’m bringing it up solely for the purpose of-- yes, I’d like to hear it. Especially since its so ‘incredible’.”
“Really?”
“Your words, not mine.”
In all honestly, Vinyl had only the vaguest idea of what her roommate was talking about. She had come home in... less than sober consciousness last night, if the pounding in her head this morning had been any indicator.
As if she didn’t have enough stress, and Octavia wasn’t making it any better!
“I’ll be there in a minute. Just wanna wrap this up.” Vinyl lied as she pretended to write in her notebook.
“Alright. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Octavia said.
Vinyl waited until Octavia’s tail had disappeared around the corner before she jumped to her hooves. The unicorn’s magic grabbed her friend’s sheet music from the desk and brought it in front of her for scrutiny. Vinyl nearly balked at how much was on here. How had Octavia accomplished that much in so little time? She poured over the bars, and Octavia’s cello played each note in her head.
She was no conductor, but Vinyl knew just from looking at the composition that the suite would be incredible. Octavia had truly outdone herself this time. Vinyl felt her stomach turn to acid again.
How was it that Octavia could pull that off? Was she just that good? Vinyl bit the inside of her lip, turning to her own notebook once again.
The disc jockey felt herself growing angry.
Stupid Paper. Stupid Octavia. Stupid music!
‘CRACK’
Vinyl looked down at the broken pen in her magical grip. She had utterly crushed the center of it, shattering the plastic casing and breaking into the reservoir. Droplets of black ink splattered carelessly across the book, soaking through the emptiness. Vinyl swore loudly as she grabbed for a box of tissues.
“Language,” Octavia chided gently from the next room.
Vinyl dabbed at the book a few times half-heartedly and then stopped. Vinyl wondered briefly what she was doing.
There was nothing on the page that needed to be saved.
It was at that moment Vinyl Scratch realized something.
She didn’t like music anymore.
‘No, that’s not right’ Vinyl thought miserably to herself. She gently closed the ink-stained booklet. With a gentle flick of magic, it was carelessly tossed onto her desk. 'It's just... not fun anymore.'
She bought her glasses around and looked at herself reflected in the amethyst lenses. If Vinyl Scratch didn’t like writing music… then who was she?
Just another DJ.
“Is everything alright in there?” came her roommate’s concerned voice.
“Yeah yeah, just gimme a sec!” Vinyl hastily jammed her glasses back on and skimmed through the records on the shelf, before she finally found what she was looking for. It was by no means recent, but it was the closest thing she had to a finished piece. She grabbed the vinyl record and made her way to their living room, a cocky smile mask once again on her face. Octavia was already there waiting patiently on the sofa, her saddlebags sitting alongside of her.
The living room was neutral territory. Octavia had gotten her pick of the furniture and Vinyl had gotten to install the mother of all home-entertainment systems. Neglecting the fact that the deck and subwoofers alone dominated a wall, the room could be considered “normal” to Canterlot standards.
Vinyl Scratch, horn aglow, strode into the room with the record in tow behind her, looking far more confident than she was feeling at the moment. With her typical flair, she took her place behind the deck and grinned at the sole member in her audience.
“Alright! Prepare yourself, Tavi, for…” The white mare trailed off slowly as Octavia reached into her saddlebag and brought out a pink pair of earmuffs. “…Tavi, what are those?” Vinyl asked quizzically.
“Earmuffs. ” Octavia answered simply as she placed the fluffy devices over her ears.
“Why are you wearing earmuffs?”
“Hmm?” The musician blinked at the abnormal sight of a silent Vinyl Scratch for a moment before a satisfied smile crossed her face. She lifted one of the muffs off of her ear.
"I'm wearing them for your... performance," the cellist said.
Vinyl pouted, her ears folding back against her head. “But you won’t be able to hear the song!”
“Trust me Vinyl. I have little doubt that I, let alone all of Canterlot, will be able to listen.”
"But why would you want to cover your ears?!"
“Because, Vinyl dear, as surprising as this might sound, you do realize that some ponies’ answer to hearing loss isn’t to ‘crank up the jams’ because they can’t hear, right?”
Vinyl merely blinked at her marefriend. “…what did you just say?”
Octavia sighed and waved a hoof dismissively. “Nothing Vinyl,” the mare said a little more loudly for Vinyl’s sake. “You made my point.” she muttered under her breath as she sat down.
The DJ flipped her trademark shades over her eyes, and placed her hooves on her turntables.
“Right! Well now that the peanut gallery is at attention-“ Octavia made a great exaggeration of rolled eyes at her roommate, “-we can get this party started!” Vinyl’s magic pulled the record out of its sleeve and placed it carefully on the track. There was a brief crackle of static from her set as she turned the system on and began to adjust the volume.
Octavia’s entire body tensed to brace for the inevitable wave of racket that would blast out of the subwoofers. Octavia had her suspicions that her roommate was either a sadist, a masochist, or some horrifying combo of the two. Nopony in their right mind played music at a volume capable of knocking ponies off of their hooves. In fact, they had only just finished paying off the repairs for the last Octavia-shaped dent in their apartment wall.
The cellist wasn’t sure how many times magic could repair an ear drum that had been shattered to Tartarus and back, but she was fairly certain she was reaching her limit. That, and the insurance companies were beginning to grow suspicious.
“You ready, Tavi?”
“I doubt it, but play it anyways.”
“Okay, listen to this!” Vinyl shouted as she slammed the play button.
It never came.
Through the thick cotton around her ears there was nothing but silence. Octavia titled her head in confusion, bewilderment written on her face. Try as she might, she couldn’t hear anything. But if that was the case, then why was Vinyl still grinning like an idiot and bobbing her head as if-
‘Oh no,’ Octavia thought to herself in horror, ‘The earmuffs didn’t work! That crazy mare has actually done it this time. She’s taken away my hearing!' She ripped the earmuffs off, flinging them across the room.
Relief blossomed in her heart when she realized that she could still hear! Relief to hear the familiar hum of the air conditioner, the beat of her own frantic heart, the strings of her... cello?
Relief quickly shifted to confusion. She would recognize the rich and mellow sound of her instrument anywhere, even amidst the melody of an entire orchestra. Her notes carried with them a bittersweet tone.
But something was off.
For starters, the volume was actually at tolerable levels; an anomaly in and of itself. Her music was there but there was something else too. A steady beat of synth behind the strings. Some notes seemed to have higher or lower keys than she remembered. It was all noticeable, if but barely.
Finally, after a few minutes, the music tapered off and only silence remained in the room. Vinyl carefully removed the needle from the track and switched off her deck. She gave an expectant look at Octavia, who despite her outburst with the earmuffs, had remained silent.
“So?” Vinyl asked hesitantly at last. “Do you like it?”
“Vinyl,” Octavia said slowly. “That was my music.”
“Well, yeah! You always said that you wanted to try and mix electric and classic stuff! This is it!”
“Vinyl...” Octavia said a little more firmly. She rose to her hooves and her steely eyes met Vinyl’s. “That was my music.”
“Well I mean...” the DJ offered her friend a nervous smile, “I’m still working about the kinks in it. Its a work in progress, y’know?”
“What do you mean it’s a work in progress?” Octavia shouted suddenly. Vinyl scrambled from behind the equipment. Octavia marched up to her, backing the white mare up against the wall. Vinyl covered under the cellist's gaze. “That was my work! My suite that I performed at the La Moyle! I spent almost a month composing it! Now you’ve gone and... and...”
“Borrowed it?” Vinyl offered weakly.
“STOLE IT!” Octavia accused. Vinyl's roommate looked to be on the verge of exploding, an aura of anger practically surrounding the gray mare. "You thief! You rotten little thief!"
Vinyl gulped, her crimson eyes as wide as saucers. “Maybe you're being just a bit hasty-”
“I can’t believe you would... of all the ponies who... You took my work, a masterpiece might I add, and ruined it! You can’t just take my work, add some ‘wubs’ and call it yours!”
“...so I take it you didn’t like it.”
Octavia narrowed her eyes. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t strangle you with my own two hooves!”
Vinyl’s lip trembled and she broke.
“I’VE LOST IT!”
She covered her eyes with her hooves and started crying like a lost foal, gasping out deep, heaving, undignified sobs, her usual smart-aleck attitude nowhere to be found.
Octavia recoiled from her marefriend’s outburst as though she had been electrocuted. “What?!”
“I-I can’t write music anymore! I’ve got nothing! Nadda! Zip! Zilch!”
“But you said-”
“I lied, alright!” A distraught Vinyl threw her shades onto her deck in frustration, hot tears making her eyes all the redder. "I don't know how you do it! You wrote an entire suite in, what, a day?! And here I've gone months without writing anything!"
“I would kill for what you’re able to do,” Vinyl confessed. “I mean, you’re just sitting there and whabam! Instant genius!” She fell back to lay on the carpet and stare morosely up at the ceiling. “I’ve been beating my head against the wall for something, anything, but all I’ve achieved is a headache! What's more, I haven't had a proper show in weeks."
“But you had a performance just last night!” Octavia said. Vinyl groaned and buried her face in her hooves.
"First of all, it's called a gig, not a performance," Vinyl said, "Second, my gig last night was DJing for Cheerilee’s kindergarten class dance.” The mare admitted ashamedly. “I was playing the Pony Pokey all. Night. Long!”
Octavia winced in sympathy. ‘So that was why Vinyl came home smashed last night.’
“What have you been doing this entire time, then?” Octavia asked.
The DJ shrugged her shoulders. “You know... clubbing, making some tweaks to my rig, playing water polo...”
“Water polo?”
“Don’t judge me.”
Octavia paused, processing this information and deciding she would save it for a more opportune time.
“Vinyl,” Octavia said, placing a comforting hoof on her friend’s shoulder. “This happens to everypony who pursues a creative talent. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Yeah but…” here Vinyl’s lip trembled, “It’s not supposed to happen to me.”
Octavia’s hoof slid across her marefriend's back as she comforted the distraught unicorn. “Vinyl, don’t worry. It’s just a block. While I’ll admit you seem to be an extreme case,” she admitted, “you’ll get over it in time.”
Vinyl shook her head. “It’s been months and... Octavia, I can’t even bring myself to look at my synthesizer, let alone use it. I just don’t have it in me anymore.”
“Nonsense,” Octavia scoffed haughtily. She picked up Vinyl’s purple glasses off of the ground and carefully dusted them off before returning them to their rightful place over the DJ's eyes. There, that was the Vinyl Scratch she knew and barely-tolerated. “It wouldn’t be the first time a pony took an unforeseen hiatus, and it won’t be the last. You’re merely in a rut.” she encouraged. “Honestly, you should have come to me ages ago. It’s clear you’ll need a professional’s help if you’re to resume making your... music.”
Vinyl’s ears perked up and she looked at Octavia. “Really? You’ll help me?”
“Of course, Vinyl.” Octavia said, offering her marefreind a rare smile. “What sort of friend would I be if I let a fellow artist suffer? We’re going to break this block of yours, even if it kills you.”
“Uh, Tavi? Don’t you mean ‘Even if it kills me?’”
“I know what I said, Vinyl.”
