A Techie’s Memories
I’m not all that sure how to write this. Stuff has happened that makes this somewhat pointless in my view. But the others keep saying I should write my experiences with that mare. She was a good unicorn, wonderful mare. Spent years working with her. Long enough to be one of her closest friends. Only pony I knew to be closer to her was her wife. They were married for years. Wonderful happy couple.
But anyways, that’s in the past now. I’m not sure how long this is going to take, it was years ago I met that unicorn. I don’t know where to start this, so I guess I’ll start it at the beginning. Seems as good a place as any. I met her in the Glowing Horn Club. Place was a unicorns only club. Well, I say unicorns only, though that kind of blatant racism was outlawed years ago. Even in places like Canterlot, where that club was, you couldn’t have a unicorn only place.
But this place, well, they were good. It wasn’t illegal to build a place no earth pony or pegasi could travel around in, so long as they could get in the front door. Not sure if Celestia intended for that when she wrote the law, or what, but it was one of those loopholes. Sure, there was a door, but it lead to a glass room. You could see the bar, sure, but there was this thick glass wall between the door and it. Any unicorn worth their shit could teleport those few feet and get in, but it closed it off to everypony else.
It was a nice bar though. With only unicorns able to get in, you could build in such new ways. No stairs and no doors in the whole place. Strange, sure, but it was for unicorns. We loved it. I was working there when I first met her. I was the techie for the place. We had DJ’s come in each night, and it was my job to set up the sound and light systems for them. Sweet gig if I do say so. I got on friendly terms with each DJ who came through, knowing both their stage names, which everypony knew, but also their real names.
So, there I was, working. We had a new DJ coming in, by the name of PON-3. Always loved that stage name of hers. I met with her beforehoof, needing to know if there was anything special she needed for her set. She told me the usual would do; it was her second time actually playing a set. I shrugged and got to work. Set up the speakers, set up the lights, got everything ready for her show.
Walking out to the stage, I saw she had set up her own turntables. I complimented her on them, she had the latest gear. Together we set up her stuff, got her ready for her show. I gave her a smile, and with a small flash of black magic, no not the evil kind, my magical aura is simply black, poofed away to the bar. I smiled, sitting down on a stood and ordered a shot, and keep them coming.
Her set was wonderful, I must say. The crowd cheered her, loved her. Can’t think of a set that’s ever gone better than hers. Near the end I was called back to the management. Not sure of what they wanted, I teleported back there. Standing in front of their door, I knocked. The door opened, allowing me in. Shrugging, I walked in, confused. They always would call you in, never just let you in. And there sat the managers of the club. Pretentious bastards, never liked them. But they were my bosses, I had to listen to them, had to be a suck up. “Yes sirs? You called for me?”
“Yes we did. Sit down Mr. Master.”
These guys were always calling me that. Made me sound like some kind of villain. Full name is Tech Master, as I’m the best techie around. Obvious name for an obvious stallion. “Please, call me Tech.”
“Mr. Tech then. Let’s not stand on ceremony, you’re fired. Pack up your stuff, you need to be out by the end of the night.”
I stared at them, confused. Raising my eyebrow I cocked my head. “Who do you have to clear up after DJ PON-3 tonight?”
“She can clear up herself. She’s a talented young mare.” Those guys knew a DJ couldn’t clear up the whole set on their own. “Now, Mr. Tech, goodbye. Your last paycheck will be sent to your current address in a few days.” They all gave a small bow, signaling for me to leave. I gave them a nod back, turned, and left the room. I closed the door behind me, and teleported back to the bar.
“Hey Whisky. Give me a shot of your strongest stuff. Those bastards in the back just fired me.”
Whisky gave me a nod and slid me a shot glass full of, well it was something. Did what I needed anyways. “This one’s on the house Tech. Hope you find something new soon.” I gave him a nod and a smile, knocking the shot back.
The DJ ended her set a few hours after midnight. With a call of her stage name she got off the stage. I knew she could use help clearing out, so I snuck back stage. “Hey there DJ. Want some help?”
“Well, sure. It’s not easy cleaning this up.” The two of us cleared out her stuff, and I helped her get out of the club. In the dim light of the street I got my first real look at her. Hadn’t bothered to before. Almost bleach white coat, spiky blue mane with blue highlights. Cutie mark of a bridged eighth note. “Thanks techie, what’s your name?”
“Tech Master actually.” My name fits me a little too well sometimes.
“Wow, fitting name.” We shared a short chuckle. “So what is it you do at this club? And is it actually legal for them to build it like that?”
I smiled. I was starting to like this mare. “I was the techie.” I threw a little emphasis on the was, hoping she would get the hint. “It was my job to set up for each set, get all the sound and lights hooked up. And it is legal actually. The law only makes it illegal to keep them out the front door. As long as they can get in the door, it’s not illegal.”
She chuckled. Always enjoyed that laugh of hers, strangely melodious. “Well, sounds like the management is a group of elitist pricks. And what do you mean by ‘was’? You just quit?”
“I wish. Those bastards fired me.”
“Ouch.” She looked me over for a moment. “Hey, you know, I could use a permanent techie. You willing to work with me?”
Sometimes I wonder if there’s a force up there, guiding our lives, giving us a push in the right direction. “I’d love to work with you.” Like some horrendous plot from a crappy sitcom type thing.
“Thanks. Well, I can’t say I’ll have many gigs, or very often, but I’ll let you know.” She fished around in her saddle bags for a moment before pulling out a sack of bits. “Here, for tonight.”
It wasn’t much, and I knew the club had paid her an obscene amount for her performance tonight. I graciously took the bits and smiled. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name? I don’t want to call you DJ, or PON-3 all the time.”
“Vinyl, Vinyl Scratch.”
I should’ve known then she would become one of the biggest names around. The crowd at Horn’s Glow loved her. Turns out, the rest of Canterlot, and eventually all of Equestria did too. It was barely a week later when she got her next gig, running the music for a fashion show down in Ponyville.
Things went well between us. She ran her sets, I ran the tech. She wasn’t like some of the DJs I had set up for, shoving all the work on me and only doing the music. No, she worked with me to get everything set up, no matter where we went. Things went well. She had a gig every week, in new places. The weeks rolled by, turning into years. I took her to dinner a few times, she returned it with a few of her own.
Most embarrassing moment for me came a few months after we started working together. I liked her. A lot. She was funny, engaging, and just fun to be with. So, one evening, while we were off at dinner, I asked her out. Asked her to be my marefriend. If there’s anything good to have come of that scene, it was her face. Priceless, I must say. She stared at me for a while, working her jaw. Luckily for me I chose to wait till the end of dinner to ask her. She stood and rushed out, embarrassed. Back then, I was crushed. I hadn’t dealt much with mares, and so had no idea how to take her reaction. I paid for our dinner and left, defeated.
The next night she had a show. Looking back, I think I should have waited till the day after her show to ask her. Would have given us more time to accept what had happened. We set up in total silence. It was kinda creepy I must say. She’s usually so talkative. We had finished preparing when she spoke up. “Look, Tech. I’m sorry about last night.”
“No, don’t be.” I had gone over this so many times in the last 24 hours I had decided she was already seeing somepony. It made sense. Why else would she be so freaked out over me asking her? I hadn’t even stopped to consider the alternatives. “You’re with somepony already. I should’ve checked to make sure you’re single before asking you.”
“Actually, I am single.” That threw me for a loop. I had no idea where to go from there. Nothing I had thought of covered this. “I’m just, well that is to say…”
Now that was laughable. She couldn’t find the words. “Look, Vinyl, I’m sorry. You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s just that, well, I’m a fillyfooler.”
I stared at her for a moment. “Alright, that explains why you said no, but not why you’re freaking out over telling me.”
“You mean, you don’t have a problem with fillyfoolers?”
“Why should I? Who you love is your affair, not mine. Be with who you want.” It’s never something that’s bothered me. I can’t see why anypony has an issue with who somepony else loves. Never made sense to me.
Another awkward silence fell. She pulled off her shades for the first time. Those magenta eyes pierced me, staring into my soul. Every time she takes them off it scares the crap out of me. Damn amazingly beautiful piercing eyes. “Alright, thanks. I hope I can find somepony soon.”
“Don’t we all Vinyl. Don’t we all. You wana talk filles after your show?” She gave another short laugh and a nod. Those shades went back on as I walked to the bar. The place slowly filled, till the place was packed. Vinyl did her set, and the crowd ate it up. Thankfully she wasn’t the last act of the night. We were able to get out of there a little past one in the morning. I collected our payment on my way out after we unhooked her stuff. While I wasn’t making as much as I had at the club, it was enough to pay the bills.
We left the club, talking about mares as I walked her home. She had a nice little flat on the south side of Canterlot. With what she made, she could’ve afforded a nicer place, but she kept the small flat. Said she’d rather have bits to spend on fun than space. I hoofed her her share for the night, and said goodnight.
I turned and left, making my way to the east end of Canterlot, where I was staying. Not the nicest of places, but it worked well enough.
It was a few weeks after that incident that I noticed the first major change in her. She got to her sets already worn out, and would be falling asleep by the end of her set. There were a few times I had to carry her back to her flat, dragging her stuff behind me. Took her forever to tell me what it was she was doing. Finnaly, I convinced her to spill.
“Alright Vinyl, whats going on?” I had just finished clearing her set, with her slumped over her turntables, again. It had started to get annoying I must say. “Vinyl, wake up!”
She woke with a start, falling over her disks. I laughed to myself as I helped her back up. “Sorry Tech. I’ve been working on a project for my shows. It’s finished now though, I’ll show it to you next week.” She was so damn proud of her creation at the time. She had no idea the shit storm it would bring on us. Neither did I for that matter. Hindsight makes a bitch of us all doesn’t it?
Well, she certainly did have it for the next show. And she was much more rested than before, she actually helped me set up. Everything was fine, until she wheeled in this giant speaker. I just stared at it. In my years of working as a techie I had never seen anything like it. Just one, giant, speaker. “Vinyl, what is that?” I had to ask, I had nothing to base it on.
“It’s my base cannon!” I continued to stare. “It blasts waves of bass. It’s going to be hilarious.” I shook my head, walking away. I didn’t want to deal with this. Everything else was set up, so I just hit the bar. Most nights I didn’t bother with a drink, I wanted to stay sober to help clear up. Not tonight. I ordered a shot of the bars strongest stuff, and kept them coming.
Eventually she pulled her ‘cannon’ out. “Alright everypony! Hold on to your drinks, cuz this is going to blow you away!” she called. She flipped a switch. Turns out that cannon works. Every single pony in the club was blasted back with the first beat. Glasses shattered, bar stools were crushed, and ponies along with them.
The whole place went silent. She flipped the switch back and stared out over the crowd. Then the cheering started. Every single pony in the club cheered her cannon. And then they chanted for her to blast it again. So she did. Took down the wall this time. Thankfully it wasn’t the one with alcohol. I kept drinking, watching as the ponies gathered themselves again.
And of course the management came out then. Surprisingly they loved the idea. And then they kicked us out. That didn’t surprise me in the least. Thank Luna they didn’t sue us for the damages. We quickly packed up and left. It was an interesting night though.
Sadly, that wasn’t the end of the troubles with the base cannon. The building was repaired nicely, no charges to us, and we were even invited to return, as long as we didn’t use the cannon. We had to ask every place we went before if we could use it. Only a few places let us, and they all loved us there. And of course one of the royal guard happened to be in the crowd one night. When we used the cannon. And it knocked down everypony in the room, broke the stools, and shook the building. You can imagine what the military thought of her base cannon.
So at her next show, a few months after she first brought it out, the military showed up at the end of her show. They wanted to commission her to make more. Said they would pay her some ungodly amount of bits for each. Left her their info in case she wanted to talk more about the deal, or accept it even.
She was quiet the rest of the night. We packed up and left as usual, me walking her back to her place. When we got there she turned to face me, her shades off, those damnable eyes staring into my soul. I shivered. “Look, Tech. I’m not sure what to do. I could sell them two of those things and live off that cash for the rest of my life. And still have some left over. But, I don’t like the idea of my stuff being used by the military.” Thankfully she hung her head at this point.
“Look, Vinyl, if you don’t want to, don’t. The thing is yours. If you don’t want the military having a hoof on it, don’t let them. And if they try to take it, fire it on them.” I haven’t ever been good with sage advice, but I think I got my point across.
She looked up at me and smiled. “Thanks Tech. I’ll need some time to think about it.” She pulled her shades on and went inside her flat. Same flat as ever. She always loved that place.
The next Friday was her next show, and there I was, early as usual, waiting to set up. Though she was a little late, we still got everything set up in time, with a moment for us to talk backstage. “I’ve decided. I’m not giving them the cannon. I love that thing, and it’s part of my set. I won’t let it become part of the military.”
I gave her a smile. Again, not one for words me. From the club we heard her introduction start, and she ran off, making it to the stage just in time. I snuck around, not wanting to be seen as I made my way to the bar. And for good reason. I had seem one of the royal guards in the crowd. While it wasn’t abnormal to see them at clubs, they were often hired as extra security when big names, like DJ PON-3, came to play, I had my own reasons to avoid them. I didn’t want to break the news to them, not without Vinyl.
As I reached the bar I chanced a glance around. Strangely, there was only one guard in attendance. Normally they send two or three to keep a crowd under control. But this was one unicorn, sitting at the far end of the bar. Odd. Well, he’d come meet me and Vinyl after the set anyways, I’d see him then. I went back to my drink, enjoying her set.
It was about ten minutes later that I felt a light tap on my shoulder. With a slight yawn I spun around, wondering who was bothering me. While he was an old friend, somepony I hadn’t seen in a long time, he was the one pony I didn’t want to talk to that night. “Shining, what are you doing here?” Shining Armor, the unicorn who sat in from of me for seven years as we went through school together, and the current captain of the royal guard. I really didn’t want to talk to him.
“Tech, good to see you. I’m just here to control the crowd. And talk with the DJ after her set.” He was calm, bored even. “For now though, what have you been up to?”
“Not much.” I had no way of blowing him off, so I had to talk to him. “Been working as her techie for a few months now. You?”
“Been working guard duty. I was promoted to captain a few weeks ago though, so I’m happy about that.” I could see the spring in his step as he talked. He was certainly happy about his promotion. I gave him a hoofbump, which he happily returned.
“How’s your relationship with the princess going? Last I heard you were doing good.” It was well known throughout the school we had gone to that Shining Armor, the brother to the Twilight Sparkle, was in a relationship with Princess Mia Amore Cadenza Sopra Ogni Altra Cosa. Man that’s a mouthful. No wonder she goes by Cadence.
“Well, not that good actually. We’ve been together for years now, and I thought everything was good.” He sat down in the stool next to me, clearly having a problem to deal with. “But, she’s been distant recently. I have no idea what’s going on.”
I sighed. To be honest, I was surprised at the time that they weren’t married yet. It had been almost nine years since those two started dating. How Shining could have missed on asking her yet was beyond me. Though, the group of guys we were both a part of never could understand mares. Never made any sense to us. “Shining, have you perhaps, I don’t know, popped the question yet?”
He stared at me. “What question?” He looked around trying to figure out what I meant.
I facehoffed. “Asked her to marry you, you incompetent fool!” I gave him a gentle shove.
His face fell as he realized his stupidity. “No. No I haven’t. Perhaps I should.”
“Perhaps you should Shining, perhaps you should.” I shook my head slowly. We sat there for a while longer, making small talk. Slowly, Vinyl’s set ended not long after midnight, about usual for her. “Alright Shining, I know what you want to talk to PON-3 about, follow me. Let’s get this over with.” I shook my head as I lead him back stage. Vinyl was waiting for me, having already started work on striking her stuff. She looked up as she heard me enter, about to chastise me for being late, when she saw Shining.
“Ohh, hello there sir. And hey Tech.” I gave her a small nod as Shining approached.
“Hello miss PON-3-”
“Please, call me Vinyl.” The DJ retorted with a roll of her eyes.
“Well then, Miss Vinyl, I assume you know why I’m here.” He took his helmet off, the glamour of the armor fading away, changing him from the standard white unicorn guard to his actual slightly rose-tinted coat. “So, do you have an answer for us?”
“Yes. No. I’m not giving the military my base cannon. I built this thing for my DJing. I don’t want it to be an instrument of war.” Vinyl’s face fell, sighing. “I love my country, but this is my invention. I want to keep it to myself.”
Shining nodded. In hindsight, I realize that it’s probably best that it was Shining who came. Any other member of the guard would have fought her. All Shining said was “Thank you ma’am. While I am sad to hear we won’t be getting it, I respect your decision. If I may make a recommendation, get your base cannon patented. There are those out there who would happily steal your creation.” With a final nod he put his helmet back on and left.
We packed up Vinyl’s set in silence, neither having words for what had just happened. I did know one thing though. He was right, Vinyl needed to patent her creation. On the walk back to her flat I managed to convince her of it, getting her to agree to take it in the following day.
Over the next few months we did have some issues with copies of the creation cropping up. The last one we dealt with came as news from Shining himself. Apparently, somepony had managed to create a working copy of her cannon, and tried to sell it to the military. We managed to kill them all quickly, getting through the few months without much incident.
Then she met Octavia Philharmonica. I’ve got nothing else to say on this. They met, they hit it off, after hitting each other, and have been happy since.
Vinyl first saw her at the Grand Galloping Gala. She didn’t have a gig to play; she had just bought us tickets. We went, fully intent on doing nothing more than having a good time. Most of the other guests hated us, I must admit. Vinyl was about as far from the cultured, high class, posh, snootiness of the rest. And as for me, well, I was no better than her.
We walked in, happily chatting. After giving a short hello to the princess, and Twilight, who had decided to stand next to her, we walked in. It was a huge hall, full of ponies milling about, not doing much. Having worked our way through the crowd to the punch bowl, or what we thought was the punch bowl, but was instead a long table full of tiny pieces of food, we realized just how much of a bore this was. I have heard that Applejack, the Element of Honesty, may she rest in peace, was there selling food, and I wish we had found her. I know that would’ve tasted much better, with actual amounts of food.
We found ourselves a wall, and waited, hoping for something to happen. And something did. A pink mare, who we later learned was Pinkie Pie, Element of Laughter, jumped up on stage. We both looked up as she tore about, effectively ruining the whole musical ensemble. When she finally left I turned to Vinyl to make a witty comment, and found her staring at the stage. Following her gaze I found she was staring at Octavia Philharmonica. After tearing her eyes away, which took some work, I asked her what was up.
“Who was that mare playing the cello? She’s gorgeous!” Vinyl exclaimed, not letting me get a word in.
“The one and only Octavia Philharmonica, don’t tell me as a musician you’ve never heard of her?” Everyone in the music business knew her then. It would still be a few years before she became a household name, but she was still famous even then.
“Never heard of her. I tend to stick to the electronica boards, I don’t check up on the classical stuff that often.” She rambled a bit, her gaze snapping back to Octavia. She was like a puppy with a treat in front of it.
I shook my head, placing a forehoof around her. “Look, Vinyl, don’t bother. You may be the queen of modern music, but Octavia is the goddess of all music. Comparing you to her is like comparing a candle to Celestia’s sun.” I honestly didn’t think Vinyl would have a chance. I wanted to end her dream before Octavia did, when it would break her heart.
She shook her head at me, turning back to face me. “I won’t give up that easily Tech. I will win her.”
I sighed. When Vinyl got something in her head, she wouldn’t stop until she’s got it. “Fine, just promise me one thing. If it doesn’t work out, don’t let it break you. She has turned down every suitor she’s ever had, mare or stallion.”
Over the next few weeks she spent all of her free time reading up on Octavia. She would arrive to the sets with her nose in some magazine, reading some article on her. One night, as I picked her up for our dinner together I saw she had bought herself every record Octavia had realeased, along with a beautiful cello. When I asked her about it all she said was that she wanted to know how she plays it without magic.
I decided, rather stupidly, to help her out. I’d met my share of musicians over the years and had some good contacts. I started getting Vinyl a ticket to every single performance of Octavia’s. From her appearances in the Royal Orcastra to the smaller, more private shows she did, I managed to get Vinyl to almost every one of her performances. And the more she went, the more she fell in love with the grey earth pony of her affection.
Then as I was calling around, looking for someone with an extra ticket to her latest showing in the Royal Orcastra, I somehow got Octavia’s personal number. Still don’t know how that happened. It was if that mystical force that got Vinyl to offer me a job had reached down again, giving me her number. Knowing it was possibly the stupidest thing I could do, I called it. And Miss Philharmonica herself answered.
“Hello, who is this and how did you get this number?” her voice was flat and tired, and not at all melodious.
“Hello, my name is Tech Master, I am the personal techie for DJ PON-3. May I ask who I am speaking with?” I hadn’t expected someone so cross sounding on the other side, and so hadn’t prepared myself an excuse for calling.
“Hmm. Well, I have heard good things about Miss PON-3. This is Miss Philharmonica. Now, how did you get this number?” She still sounded cross, though if it was her, I could understand why. The big stars don’t like their personal number being hoofed out.
“I received it from a friend of mine, while trying to purchase a ticket to you show next week. I called wondering if it could actually be your personal number.”
“It is. And I would like it if you didn’t ever use it.” While I can’t say she sounded any happier, she did sound more awake.
“Well, actually, I have something I must confess. Miss PON-3 has a very large crush on you. I’m worried how it is going to affect her, beyond what it has already done to her.” I figured at the time I could get Octavia to let Vinyl down gently, get Vinyl back onto her priorities.
“What has her crush done to her?” Octavia asked with a slight chuckle. “I’ve had enough suitors to not expect much out of them. Though I do like hearing the lengths to which they go to try and impress me.”
I sighed. “Well, she’s bought every one of your albums, read every article on you she can find, learned as much about you as she can, and even started learning to play the cello. I’m waiting for her to do a set featuring some of your music. Or at least a very classical sounding remix. I wouldn’t be surprised if she said your music is too wonderful to be remixed by anyone.” I chuckled. “She’s that smitten with you.”
I could hear the faintest of chuckles from the other end. “well, that is certainly more than most bother to do. Have her call me four hours after my show next week ends. I must warn you, I always give my suitors a chance. They get one dinner to impress me.”
“Well, fair enough. I’ll make sure she calls.” She gave me a quick thank you and hung up. I set the phone back on its stand. Ohh what have I done? I thought to myself, shaking my head.
The next week passed in quiet between me and Vinyl. I told her I had gotten a ticket to Octavia’s performance, and that afterwards I had a small surprise for her. Finally the night of Octavia’s performance rolled around. I waited up, knowing Vinyl would want her surprise right away.
Half past midnight she knocked on my door. I let her in, sat her down, summoned up my courage and told her. “Alright Vinyl. I managed to get Octavia’s personal number last week when I got you that ticket. I talked with her for a while, and managed to get her to give you a chance. She said to have you call her four hours after her set ended. From what she told me, she’s giving you one chance, at a dinner with her.”
Vinyl looked at me for a moment, slowly raising an eyebrow high enough to be seen over her shades. “Very good Tech, now what’s this surprise you have for me?” I should’ve known she wouldn’t believe me.
“Seriously Vinyl, that is your surprise. When did her show end?”
“Around eleven or so.” She rolled her eyes, getting up “If you don’t have an actual surprise for me, I’m going home. It’s late, and I’ve got a show tomorrow. Or rather, later today.”
“Seriously Vinyl. I promise, it’s her, and she wants to give you a chance.” She shrugged. “Just wait.”
We spent the next two hours playing board games and the like. After way to much waiting, three am arrived. I grabbed the phone and dialed, hoping Octavia was being serious.
“Hello, who is this and how did you get this number?” Again, her voice was flat and tired.
“Hello Miss Philharmonica. This is Tech Master, DJ PON-3’s techie. We spoke last week about her.”
“Ahh yes. I’m glad to hear from you. I assume she’s waiting for the phone?”
“To be honest, she doesn’t believe it’s you.”
“Hoof the phone to her please Mister Master.”
I did as she asked, hoofing the phone to Vinyl. “Alright, which of Tech’s friends are you?” she asked, rather annoyed. Slowly her jaw dropped. “Prove to me you’re her. What was the second song you played tonight?” while I couldn’t hear anything Octavia was saying, from the way Vinyl’s jaw fell further, I can only assume Vinyl was beginning to believe her. “Well, then, ummm…. From what Tech has told me, you’re giving me a dinner to impress you?”
“Alright, well, I can’t say any of the places that I frequent would appeal to you, not as far as I know. Is there anywhere specific you wish to go?” Vinyl used her magic to float a piece of paper and pencil to her. “alright, I’ve got the address. When would work for you?” A brief pause followed before Vinyl quickly said “Ohh, no. I’m free whenever. I have a very flexible schedule.” I sighed, pulling my date book over to me. It looked to me like she was going to move stuff around to fit her dinner in if she had to. “Alright, next Thursday at 8pm. Great. And quickly, do you plan to go in any form of disguise? I can understand how hard it must be to go out in public at times?” Another short pause. “Well then I will see you there.” Vinyl slowly hung up the phone, turning to face me.
“Told you it was her.” I chided, smiling.
“Yes, yes. Now, what the hell am I going to do?” She plopped down in front of me, her face sullen.
Over the next week we discussed everything Vinyl would need for her dinner. We talked about everything from which fork to use, to how to use it, to when to use her magic. When Thursday rolled around, she was looking more nervous than a cat being told it had to go for a swim. But she left, head held high. I prepared the boxes of tissues I might need while I waited for her to return.
Now, I can’t say I have any idea what happened at their dinner. Vinyl left for it looking as scared as possible. She returned however, with a massive smile on her face. I stared as she practically jumped out of her fun as she walked in the door. Turning to face me, she spoke a single sentence before bouncing off. “I’ve got a marefriend.”
Things went wonderfully between them from there. I must admit, I’ve always been slightly jealous of her for how well things went for her. I had managed to ask Octavia myself about a year prior, enjoyed my dinner with her, and was heartbroken when she told me no. Still, I couldn’t have been happier for them. When they got married a few years later I was Vinyl’s best man. Still not sure how that worked out, but it did.
While Vinyl’s story didn’t end there, she had many more happy years before her, that’s where I’m going to end. By the time she and Octavia were married, they were both hugely famous, their every action watched by the media. While there was plenty of other stuff that happened in her long life, from their first kid to the fall of classical music, it’s all been documented before. I’m not going to talk about things that were once all over the news.
So here’s to Vinyl Scratch. A DJ, a friend, a wife, a mother. May Luna guide her to the other side where she rest happily for eternity.
Author's Note
Hope you enjoyed it. No proofreading or editing went into this, beyond capitalization and punctuation and stuff. This is also my first sad fic, so let me know what you think.
I hope you enjoyed it.
