Like the Record Rolls
Vinyl trotted into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes with a hoof, feeling a familiar mild pressure building beneath her eyelids. Her sight was dim, and her head was light, thoughts rushing freely through the nooks of her mind, washing away any coherent emotions or feelings. And to think about it, some ponies would say insomnia made their head heavy, not the other way round.
The DJ limped weakly towards the fridge, casting a side glance at the clock that adorned the plain blue wall. 3 a.m. Three in the morning. Only it wasn't morning; far from it. It was dark and cold, even though all the windows were shut tight, lest any of the pleasant warmth escape the white unicorn's flat. Hoar frost was covering the small kitchen window, even though the snowstorm had long ceased. Now, miniscule snowflakes were swirling in their magical dance as they descended from the sky regally, prim and proud, the legitimate queens of winter.
Vinyl diverted her weary gaze from the window and inspected the contents of the silver grey refrigerator that had cost a fortune but was worth it, for it could maintain different temperature for each section. The mare decided on a half-eaten sandwich and a bottle of vodka that she didn't hesitate to eject as she closed the door with a grunt.
Placing herself on a stool near the small round table, she put down the bottle and the food, levitating a shot glass from one of the numerous drawers that were crowning the wall above the oven and the sink. Vinyl idly noted that it would be a good idea to wash the dishes, which by now were resting in the sink, lying atop one another in a chaotic fashion.
Biting into the meagre remains of the sandwich, the mare poured a generous amount of vodka, filling the shot glass to the top. She didn't really feel hungry; she didn't want to eat, generally, but the DJ knew better than to drink on an empty stomach.
The mare winced as the liquid slid down her throat, sending an icy bite piercing her guts and ending up in her stomach. Immediately, her already light head became even lighter, as if it were a toy balloon, ready to take off to the cloudy night sky of Manehattan. Alcohol had never had such an effect on her, up to the last few years. Was she getting older?
She calmly observed her distorted reflection in the glass. Muddled, it still depicted small, yet visible, wrinkles covering her forehead; and the skin on her cheeks was undoubtfully getting loose. Her white coat was no longer pristine, turning a deeper shade, almost reaching light grey in spectre. Her usually spiked blue mane was now utterly dishevelled, falling onto her shoulders in a weak show of submission. Here was her youth, running out, escaping her at a gallop, and she couldn't do anything but watch it fade away.
Vinyl downed another shot in one gulp, shivering as the substance sent a wave of cold numbness through her body. She preferred whisky to vodka, usually: whisky gave a feeling of pleasant warmness in her belly that remained for minutes, if not hours, keeping her going through both cold nights at home and action-packed frenzy at the club alike. But right now, she didn't need that warmness. Her only desire was to forget, and drink herself to sleep eventually, falling into the cradling oblivion of dreams.
"Pass me a drink, will you?" a soft feminine voice spoke from across the table in a calm fashion. It carried a hint of calm pride and warm love that, no matter how the mare would try to hide in public, would be always given away by her voice.
Vinyl clenched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, grinding them painfully, feeling the enamel screech warningly. If she couldn't see her, she would go away. She must go away...
"Vinyl, love, anything the matter?" the voice wondered casually, and the DJ could hear the sound of vodka pouring into a spare shot glass.
Vinyl lifted her head and opened her eyes, slowly, letting more and more light peek through her eyelids gradually, hoping that it was over.
It was not. Before her was sitting a beautiful grey earth pony, the most wonderful mare in the world, her long, always well-groomed black mane falling onto her shoulders like a banket of darkness that by now was covering the whole city; but this darkness was mild, and embracing, and friendly; this darkness was no nemesis of light, but only outlined its existence.
"You don't drink vodka, Tavi," Vinyl whispered, eyeing the mare sadly. She was young - forever young. She was smiling. Just like the day they met. Just like the day she...
"Well, there is a first time for everything." The grey mare downed her drink easily, without a wince, her smile never leaving her face.
Vinyl gulped. She was here again. She always came. Why did she come?! Why did she haunt her even after... Even after she-!
"Go away, Tavi." Vinyl closed her eyes again and numbly took the glass, emptying the contents. "Go away. You're not real. Stop messing with my mind." The glass landed on the floor, shattering as the inebriated unicorn's magical grip encountered a fiasko. Neither of the ponies seemed to care.
The grey mare rose from her seat and slid towards the DJ, her steps ethereal, her pace gliding, her hooves barely touching the floor. "What do you mean, love?" she wondered, concern evident in her tone, piercing Vinyl's eyes with her beautiful pools of lavender, the only eyes Vinyl would ever find herself lost in, bathing in their soothing gaze.
"You aren't real, Tavi," the DJ let out meekly, feeling her shoulders begin to tremble. And then she remembered...
The sun peeking through the thick cloud layer. The train station. Ponies. Laughter. Tears. Promises to come back soon. It was going to be a tour. Just a tour with her ensemble. But then she remembered...
The call. The hospital. Grey corridors and sick patients. The bed. The IV pack. Beeping... Beeping... No beeping.
Vinyl shook her head fervently, downing another drink. Maybe, just maybe, she would be able to pass out from the alcohol she'd consumed. One could only hope. She wanted to forget so badly - why couldn't she?! For a moment, she was sure Octavia - or, the illusion left by her Tavi - was gone, and she exhaled in relief, blessing the vodka and praying for oblivion, but when she raised her gaze, the grey mare was still sitting opposite her, smiling in the way only Octavia could smile: brief and restrained, yet very refined and incredibly emotional at the same time. And then she remembered...
The papers. Calls and cold, estimating voices. Arranging the funeral. Lawyers with their cases. Sleepless nights. Uneventful days. The funeral. She'd never slept well again.
"Go away!" Vinyl yelled bitterly as she got up, staggering, her vision blurry from both tears and insomnia. Her legs were shaking, on the verge of giving way and sending her collapsing to the floor. The mare didn't mind it. She hoped for it; maybe pain would make the image of Octavia fade away. Who was she trying to deceive - she'd hurt herself previously; she hurt herself badly, but the silhouette of the wonderful grey mare never left her side.
There had been times when she didn't see her, but she had always felt her. She did realise that Octavia was there, and a simple action - picking up the phone, locking the door, glancing at the window - would bring the image back. She'd got used to it, in a way: the grip of paranoia had gone easy on her, and she no longer was shocked to find Octavia everywhere she went. No matter where she was, the cellist's image followed her.
"Go away? Is that how you treat your fiancee, honey?" the grey pony wondered in an offended tone, raising from her seat and closing the short, painfully short distance between Vinyl and her. The DJ felt her soft breath on her ear, her lips almost touching the skin, her soft fur brushing against her side.
"You are not my fiancee," the white unicorn retorted in a sharp and hurt tone. Her throat was sore, and she had to clear it before carrying on. "You aren't real. You are my imagination." She cast a soft glance at her Tavi - no, the projection of her Tavi - and felt tears leaving her eye sockets in tiny drops, falling onto her cheeks and crawling down towards her neck, vanishing beneath the damp fur. "You died, Tavi," she muttered and shed another tear as she poured another shot. And then she would another, and another, and one more - up to the moment she couldn't drink any more, drifting off to her uneasy sleep.
"Surely you can't mean it, Vinyl," the grey mare cooed, brushing her nose against the unicorn's cheek. Her touch was warm and soft, just like it had always been. "I am here before you in the flesh." She chuckled, running a hoof through her gorgeous mane, vigorous and healthy, forever young.
Vinyl's shoulders began trembling meekly as she tried to hide her dismay from her lover, if only out of habit. She knew that it was an illusion - a mind game that her crushed brain was playing with her - yet, she couldn't bring herself to break down before Octavia, all be it a hallucination.
"Vinyl, honey..." the grey mare whispered calmly, placing tiny, almost imperceptible pecks upon her Vinyl's cheek, moving down to her neck. "You are talking nonsense," she concluded, much to the DJ's sorrow. She was talking as if she were real; but at the same time, she wasn't. "You need to relax. Besides..." The grey mare smirked mischievously. "Can a dead pony do this?"
The kiss was soft, yet incredibly passionate, resembling all the kisses the DJ had shared with her marefriend, all at the same time. It was a determined, firm motion, an action meant to prove something, to make a statement. Too bad Vinyl couldn't make out the statement. Deep inside, she knew she wasn't really kissing Octavia. Deep inside, she knew her lips had just met the air. Deep inside, she knew her mind was playing tricks with her, and she was alone, drunk and down, bathing in shame and confusion.
But right now, she returned the kiss, exhaling in relief. Illusion or not, Octavia was the best kisser in all of Equestria, and if kissing her meant giving in to insanity, she would gladly give in.
As if the grey mare had read her thoughts, - after all, Vinyl was sure that, since she was part of her mind, she definitely could, - she broke the kiss and brushed her tail against the DJ's flank, winking seductively.
"Come on, honey, you're acting all crazy, but..." She grinned. "I'll blame it on the alcohol. You're all worked up, and I know just the cure~" she concluded in a sing-song voice, trotting towards the bedroom. "Are you coming?"
Vinyl gulped and closed her eyes, frozen in place. No matter how long she lingered, Octavia would still be waiting for her in the bedroom. She would always be waiting. The unicorn nodded weakly, admitting defeat. She'd given in. She'd always given in, and so she did now. "Sure," she muttered under her breath, knowing very well that Octavia could still hear, even if she'd said that inside her mind.
The grey pony vanished from sight, - Vinyl wasn't even sure whether she'd passed through the doorway or simply disappeared, - leaving the DJ alone in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the half-empty bottle of vodka that lay on the table in a desperate attempt to turn over. Vinyl ignored the object and, letting out a sigh, moved towards the bedroom. Towards Octavia. Towards her love.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the moon peek through the clouds and toss her a sombre, sympathetic glance.
***
The sun had already begun to set, travelling down towards the horizon, shifting beneath the cloud blanket, as Vinyl made her way down the street, her head hung low, her eyes piercing the snow-covered asphalt. Occasional cracks were filled with frozen water from the melting snow; the ice was slippery, and many a passerby cursed the lazy street cleaners as they almost tripped over, not slowing their hectic pace for a moment.
Vinyl paced the street calmly, not raising her head. She could hear Octavia trotting at her side. She could hear the soft clopping of hooves against the ground, and the shifting of saddlebags, and the imperceptible smell her love had always radiated, even without using a perfume. Vinyl couldn't describe it; if anything, it was... lavender. No, it was violet.
The tall building appeared before her, and the unicorn came to a stop, raising her gaze finally to marvel at the magnificent skyscraper. Her skyscraper. A boastful sculpture of a golden vinyl record crowned the top, and bright, saturated illumination pierced the building whole, neon lights covering the outsides in a whirlwind of colour.
Her record label greeted her in a quiet, stately manner as she felt in her saddlebags to get the key. The glass doors opened wide at the command of her magic, and she trotted inside, slamming the door shut behind her. She exhaled tiredly. Ten hours of sleep still wasn't enough for her: her eyelids were heavy and her legs trembled every now and again, almost sending her plummeting into the ground. For a moment, she wanted to fall asleep again, never to wake up again; to drown in the blissful abyss of nothingness. But she could not: she was haunting her dreams.
The DJ trotted along the dark corridor, turning on the lights as she advanced towards the lift. She felt a hint of pride in her chest, eyeing the shiny reception desks and red carpets, She'd spend a fortune to get it right; she invested time, and money, and effort - anything to keep herself occupied. Anything to forget.
But she couldn't. No matter how hard she'd tried to substitute the memories, they wouldn't fade away. They would haunt her, and crush her into misery and nothingness, up to the moment she'd collapse in exhaustion and fall asleep. And then they would come back as nightmares.
Vinyl left the lift, following the empty corridor. She frowned at the lack of personnel. She'd been paying those ponies to work - why were they slacking?!
"Don't you remember?"
The unicorn shut her eyes in the wake of Octavia's voice, her hooves carrying her into a large office. She didn't need to see it; she remembered everything by heart. Three shelves on the right wall, containing vinyl records with samples, and raw, unmixed material. Two turntables by the left wall, connected together for extra efficiency. Her desk, filled with papers, letters and sheet music. She blindly trotted towards the desk, placing herself in the chair.
"Don't you think this strange that none of your employees are present today?" Vinyl gritted her teeth. Of course, she was foolish to believe that the image of her love would fade, shall she just close her eyes. "Do you remember what day it is?"
The DJ opened her eyes, eyeing the grey mare standing in front of the desk with that frightening smile of hers. The smile that she used to adore. The smile that she now feared.
"It's Saturday, Tavi," she replied, feeling strange as she addressed the pony-shaped illusion by the name. It felt as if she were submitting to insanity. Maybe she was. She didn't know anymore.
The magnificent cellist trotted around the desk and placed her hoof on Vinyl's shoulder. The white mare could feel her warmth, her soft and pleasant touch, her caring breath on her neck.
"Is it just a Saturday?" Octavia wondered with a smile. "Just another Saturday?"
The gears in Vinyl's brain tried to struggle, but ceased turning. She was in no mood for riddles, especially those cast by her own craziness. She was in no mood for anything, to think about it. The mood had died with Octavia. Everything had slowly ceased with the death of her beloved.
"Just another Saturday," the DJ replied in a blank tone, leaning back in the chair. The leather rubbed against her coat, making her shiver unpleasantly and change her position. She'd have to replace the chair eventually, even though she knew she could not: she hadn't changed anything since... then. Changes were for the worse; she'd learnt it the hard way.
"Isn't there a special occasion, though?" the cellist wondered, pecking the white mare on the neck.
Vinyl moaned in a peculiar mix of delight and disapprovement, glad to feel her lover's touch once more, still realising very well that it wasn't real.
"What's on your mind?" the white pony muttered tiredly, making a mental note that she could have just as well asked, "What's on my mind?"
"I'm making pie tonight," Octavia replied simply, brushing her well-groomed black tail against Vinyl's flank. "Special cherry pie." She smiled warmly, trotting away.
"Cherry pie," Vinyl mumbled. She inhaled deeply. Cherry pie. A very special treat from her late marefriend. "It's Hearth's Warming Eve," she stated in a bleak tone, not really surprised by having forgotten the holiday. She hadn't celebrated it ever since then. There was no need to pay special attention to it. She'd been right from the beginning. It was just another Saturday. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Yes, love." Octavia's face beamed with happiness as she nuzzled the white mare gently. "I'll be waiting for you at home," she whispered into Vinyl's ear as she turned round, swishing her tail one last time before she began to take her leave.
"Tavi..." the white mare whispered, eyeing the grey pony's back as she trotted towards the door. "You don't really need to use the door. You're just an illusion." She gulped, as if in severe pain. And there was pain indeed: terrible, pouncing mental pain that filled her heart and soul, consuming them whole. Her mind was the last frontier of sanity, and it seemed that it would soon give in as well.
"What do you mean, love?" the cellist mused aloud as she vanished in the doorway. "I came in after you, right through the door. You need some rest."
The voice resonated inside Vinyl's head.
"It seems you can't tell what's real anymore."
***
"I need help."
The office was soothingly bright, enveloped in a blanket of artificial light coming from a slowly swaying lamp that crowned the ceiling, rocking back and forth in a hypnotic stance. Several bookshelves were filled with large tomes, none of which were dusty: obviously, the books had known regular use. The grey unicorn in a business suit sat behind the desk, before which Vinyl was now sitting. The DJ was surprised mildly to see the doctor in such an outfit; however, she had other issues at hoof.
"That's why you've come here," the grey mare said, levitating a pencil. "And right on Hearth's Warming Eve, no less. What is troubling you?" she asked, ready to jot down anything that her new patient would find all right to reveal.
Vinyl closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair, colourful dots hovering before her eyelids, taking a pony-shaped form. "I'm seeing things." She sighed, desperate enough to tell all the truth; and to a complete stranger, no less! "Been seeing things for a long time."
"How long?" the doctor wondered, taking a few notes.
"A few years. Ever since my... marefriend... died." Vinyl felt tears well in her eyes, but she didn't want to give in to raw emotion right now.
"I see. You should've come to me sooner." The grey mare's tone was disturbingly emotionless. Professional, even. "Any specific visions?"
Vinyl sighed, rubbing her temples. She felt terribly naked before the doctor's enquiring eye, spilling her secrets and sharing experiences she'd thought she would never share. "My late marefriend. She appears next to me. All the time, doc." Vinyl winced with a groan. "All the time."
"Is she here now?" the grey unicorn wondered, making Vinyl shiver at how easily she posed such a bizarre question.
The DJ took a look about the office. Strangely enough, Octavia wasn't there. She checked again. Still not there. "No," the DJ admitted. "Sometimes, she doesn't haunt me. Most of the time, she does."
"What exactly does she do?" the psychiatrist carried on with her line of inquiry, nibbling on the tip of the pencil. The wood gave a soft creak and a scrap of dry paint dissolved from the writing tool, falling onto the table.
"Well, she... talks to me." Vinyl bit her lower lip. Was she really going to tell her everything? ...Why not? She'd already gone too far. There was no turning back now. "Sometimes, she will nuzzle me. Or kiss me. Or..." The white pony blushed deeply, averting her eyes.
"You two have sex, right?" the doctor supplied, unabashed. "And you are embarrassed because you can actually feel the pleasure from the stimulation?"
The white mare nodded weakly, flushed and embarrassed to the limit. She had just said it. There. She'd just said it. Now what? She gulped. What if... What if there was no cure? What if she was stuck with the ghost of her marefriend in her head, forever?
"That's a quite basic case, all be it difficult to deal with." The doctor began scribbling something on a piece of paper. "First of all, we need to make sure those hallucinations disappear from your life. I'm prescribing you these pills..." She levitated the paper to the DJ, who caught it in her magical grip and placed it in her saddlebag. "Soon after taking those, you will sleep safe and sound, without caring about any illusions."
How does she know I'm suffering from insomnia? Vinyl wondered idly. Maybe it was a common side effect of her... condition. It felt so strange, coming to terms with the fact that something was wrong. She'd known it before, on a subconscious level, but now it was a fact. A statement.
"Still, we need to make sure the problem fades away once and for all." The grey mare finally let a small smile onto her face. "See you tomorrow?" Vinyl nodded. "We still have some therapy to perform."
Vinyl stood up, swaying from side to side. She wanted to fall asleep on the spot. She was tired. No - she was exhausted. She exchanged goodbyes with the doctor - her doctor - and trotted out of the office.
What was she to do now? She needed to visit the chemist's; and then she had to go home. To her. To take the pills and never see her again. Did she really have the nerve? She'd got used to seeing Octavia all the time. Even though it was a lie, even though it hurt her - she just couldn't imagine her life without her.
She sighed. She needed to buy the pills and take them. But before that, she had one more thing to do.
***
Vinyl entered the flat clumsily, her telekinesis weak and failing as she placed the heavy object on the floor. She sighed and closed the door behind her. There. She'd done it. Now, she just had to take the pills. Take the pills - and there would be no more Octavia.
No more Tavi.
No more.
She wanted her to stay; but she didn't want her to mess with her head like that. Was Octavia worth losing her sanity? No doubt. Was the illusion of her worth it?
...
Vinyl took out the pills from her saddlebag and placed them onto the table. One before bed, one in the morning. But right now... Any minute now...
"Vinyl, you're home!" Octavia exclaimed cheerfully, trotting up to Vinyl, pecking her on the cheek. "I made us some special Hearth's Warming Eve pie!" She nuzzled the DJ playfully. Vinyl didn't return the motion.
"Tavi..." she began, commanding the grey pony's attention. "I..." What would she tell her? 'I am going to kill you by taking some medicine'? 'Goodbye, love, we'll never meet again'? She levitated the large cello case. "Happy Hearth's Warming Eve, Tavi."
The cellist gasped as she opened the case, revealing a new shiny cello inside. Its radiant beauty resonated across the room, matched only by the cellist's own beauty. She eyed the instrument lovingly and threw her hooves around Vinyl's neck. "Thank you, love," she cooed, kissing the white mare passionately. "That's the best present I've ever got."
Vinyl's expression remained stoic. "You're welcome, Tavi."
"You are definitely feeling better now," Octavia observed with a smile. "No more crazy talk of illusions?" Vinyl shook her head despite herself. "Now, how about some pie?" the grey mare wondered, lifting the cello case onto her back and moving away to put it out of the way.
Finally, tears began rushing down Vinyl's cheeks, like unchained mountain rivers, soaking her fur and making her vision blurry, letting her see only the mare she loved, and the pills that could take her away from her.
She gulped, smiling through tears.
"That would be lovely."
