Vinyl stared into the bedroom, her eyes filling with angry tears. One year. She was in San Franciscolt for one year, and she returns to Octavia, her marefriend, in bed with another pony.
"Vinyl, I..." Octavia tried to explain, but Vinyl wouldn't hear it.
"You worried about me cheating on you." Vinyl's voice was just above a whisper. "I never dreamed you would cheat on me." With that, Vinyl was gone.
She ran from the room, the image of Octavia with a mint green mare flashing in her mind. The memory of the mare, her lyre stamped flank resting right by Octavia's, filled Vinyl more with rage than hurt. She wanted the mare dead.
No. The mare wasn't to blame. Octavia had allowed a relationship with the mare despite her commitment to Vinyl. Octavia was to blame. She had done this to the relationship, not the mint mare.
Did that mean Vinyl wanted Octavia dead? As the unicorn wandered the streets of Manehatten, her head cleared. It wasn't Octavia's fault either. Vinyl had left her alone for an entire year. Why else would she go to somepony else? It was Vinyl's fault.
~~~
"Gimme the hardest you've got," Vinyl demanded of the bartender. The silver unicorn mare looked at her, but slid a shot glass her way, her choppy black and purple mane shaking with the movement. Vinyl encased the drink in her light blue magic and emptied the contents into her mouth.
"Happy mother bucking Hearts and Hooves Day," she said as she wiped her mouth with a hoof. "Hit me," she said to the bartender. Once again, the amber liquid filled the tiny glass. Again, Vinyl lifted it with her magic, the aura slightly dark from anger and the alcohol that was already coursing through her system. Four years. Four years to the day that Vinyl caught Octavia with the mint mare. Vinyl downed another drink.
This went on for nearly two hours. The bartender refused to serve Vinyl after her usually light blue magic was nearly black from intoxication.
"Go home, filly," the bartender said kindly. Her bright purple eyes were worried. Many a pony had come into this bar to drink away troubles, but none of them had been this drunk. Even this particular mare had usually been gone before she was this drunk.
"Ain't got one," Vinyl said with a hiccup. "Movin' out." She was stuck in the past, the first night she had come here.
"That's sad to hear," the bartender replied, trying to keep the intoxicated unicorn talking until somepony could get her to the shack she called home.
"I trus'sed her ya know," Vinyl slurred. "I come back and she's shleeping with anozzer mare. Now hit me!"
"City law don't allow that miss," the bartender denied. "We can't serve intoxicated ponies."
"I'm fine, sho hit me!" Vinyl's horn lit up with the black magic, her eyes flashing in anger.
"Ma'am, we can't serve you anymore. You've reached your limit. We can arrange a taxi to take you home, but we can't serve you anymore." She turned away, the paintbrush on her flank the final statement of the argument.
"Fine, wha'ever," Vinyl muttered, the black aura fading. She stumbled out of the bar, her hooves unable to support her weight. She tripped over her own hooves until she found her balance, stumbling like a foal as she walked up the street.
Ponies watched as the drunk mare walked, used to the routine. The unicorn fumbled by a door, tripping inside. The inside reeked of booze as Vinyl made her way to the kitchen. She cracked open a bottle of hard liquor, not bothering to wash out a glass.
Vinyl took a stinging swallow of whiskey, her magic darkening with each drop. Before too long, the bottle was empty. No longer capable of using magic, the bottle fell to the floor and shattered. Vinyl stumbled into the bedroom, her vision blurry. She collapsed to her knees, knocking a piece of paper and a pencil to the ground. She took the pencil in her mouth, writing as coherently as she could in her state. She finished the last letter and collapsed, her hind leg twitching involuntary before her body went still.
When the landlord came to collect her rent, he was met with an angry stench and a lifeless carcass, a crumpled paper in her hoof. The writing was shaky, but it was legible:
'I'll love her till I die.'
~~~
"Have they revealed what killed that DJ years ago?" Beauty Brass asked, starting up the conversation as the Royal Canterlot Orchestra warmed up.
"I heard she got drunk at a party and passed out at home," Frederic replied, playing a light tune on his piano.
"I heard she was in love with someone who didn't love her back, so she killed herself," Harpo added as he tuned his harp. Octavia's ears perked upward.
"She did what?" she asked, not wanting to believe a word. Vinyl was so much stronger than that. She had always thought that Vinyl had died in a horrible accident. The doctors had said something about alcohol, so she had figured a bar fight was the reason she died.
"Doctors found that her blood alcohol concentration was higher than normal, but she clearly had time to write a note, so it was planned. They tried to revive her and clean her system, but the most they got was a few black sparks," Harpo shrugged.
"I thought her magic was blue?" Octavia remembered watching the unicorn practice, a beautiful blue aura surrounding everything she touched.
"Intoxication darkens the magic," Beauty Brass piped up. "It turns black before becoming unusable. That's why bar movies always get bad reviews from unicorns; they don't bother with the magic's color."
"This is awful. Vi-the DJ is really dead?" Octavia would be removed from the orchestra if she showed any hint that she had known Vinyl.
"That's what the report is," Frederic said, stretching his hooves. "Enough foalish gossip. Now, we play,"
Octavia began to play the notes on her cello, but she wasn't attached. Her hooves played a cheery tune, but her heart longed to take over and play the saddest melody she knew.
"Stop," Octavia said, lowering her bow. The orchestra looked at her, their brows furrowed.
"Octavia, I understand you were appointed by Princess Celestial herself, but you cannot simply stop rehearsal because you don't want to play," Frederic scolded.
"I want to play a memorial piece," Octavia explained. "Just because this DJ played different music doesn't mean she wasn't loved by ponies. She deserves it." Octavia feared her plea would go in vain. The other members looked at one another and Frederic sighed.
"We'll play her a simple piece at the Gala. The Elements of Harmony won't be attending this year, so we can play what we like." Octavia held back a smile, but nodded her head.
"Thank you," she said kindly. "It will be a lovely goodbye."
And a beautiful apology.
~~~
Octavia sat in her fancy apartment as her lavender eyes filled with tears. She knew it was her fault. She knew that Vinyl was gone because she, Octavia Philharmonica, had to have one stupid night with Lyra Heartstrings.
"I'm so sorry Vinyl," she sobbed into her hooves. She had learned the news so long ago, but the memory was fresh in her mind. It was her fault. She had killed the only mare she ever loved.
~~~
"Hard cider, on the rocks," Octavia said to the bartender. “My name is Octavia, by the way,” he hinted, trying to get a discount. Many ponies were star-struck by a pony that played for the princess.
"Name’s Violet Splash,” the mare replied politely. “You don't drink; it says so in your interviews."
"Just hit me," Octavia growled. The bartender was reminded of a white unicorn from years ago, saying the exact same thing. She shook her head, sliding the mare her drink. There was no possible way this classical pony knew the unicorn. She would never drink herself to death.
"I don't understand how I let this happen," Octavia sighed. "I didn't have to sleep with Lyra, but she was so new...so different,"
"It happens.” Violet began polishing a glass. She was used to the ramblings of the ponies who sat at this bar. She got dozens of stories a week.
"She would still be here if I had just waited for her to get back." Octavia finished her cider and shook her head.
"Need another?"
"Could I get the strongest thing you have?"
"We have Applejack Daniels, but a new drinker like you..."
"Hit me," Octavia said harshly, a hint of Vinyl in her voice. The bartender reluctantly slid a shot glass towards her and cringed as she took the shot.
"Another," Octavia demanded, pushing the shot glass back.
“Octavia, I don’t think this is healthy,” Violet protested.
“Another,” Octavia pressed. Violet could see the mare was still mostly sober, but if this mare had any relation to the unicorn from years ago…Violet didn’t want two lives on her conscious. Violet filled another glass and slid it across the bar; using her magic even though she hated doing so. Her already dark purple magic gave others the impression she was drinking. The magic’s effect on the booze, however, was perfect for her. Octavia would be able to drink without the alcohol poisoning her body.
Octavia didn’t leave the bar until five in the morning, when Violet’s shift ended and the silver mare kicked her out. With the alcohol already in her veins, Octavia set off, determined to find a bar that would allow her in.
“Are you Octavia Philharmonica?” a young filly asked, looking up.
“Yes, I am.” Octavia tried to regain her composure, breathing away from the filly in fear that she would smell the alcohol on her breath.
“Can I have your autograph? My name is Viola String, and I’m your biggest fan!” The filly beamed with excitement, and Octavia felt her stomach lurch. The magic effects were wearing off and the alcohol was starting to spread through her body.
“I can’t give it to you now, but I’ll give your name to my manager, and he’ll make sure you get front row seats to my next concert.”
“My mom too?”
“What’s her name?”
“Half Rest,” the filly replied.
“I’ll let my manager know, but for now, I must get going.” Octavia hurried down the street, dashing into the nearest building to empty the contents of her stomach. The building had boards covering the door, but Octavia’s slim frame easily slipped inside. She vomited, the alcohol forcing its way out of her body and into a puddle on the floor.
Once her stomach had pushed out as much as it could, Octavia rose to her hooves and looked around, taking in the area. Picture frames covered the walls and a mini-fridge sat in the corner, covered in dust. Each picture showed the same pony, sitting at a turntable with blue magic surrounding everything.
“Vinyl,” she said, her voice shaky. She took one of the pictures from the wall, dropping it and smashing the frame in the process. Octavia pulled the picture from the frame and held it to her, carrying it across her back as she made her way to the mini-fridge.
The contents were few, and the fridge had long since stopped keeping things cool, but five bottles of Applejack Daniels sat, calling to her. Octavia popped open the first bottle, downing the entire thing and ignoring the angry burn in her throat. The pain was a relief to her. She did the same with the next bottle, dropping it as the amber liquid spread through her body.
The glass shattered, joining the remains of more broken glass. Octavia was able to clutch the picture from her back to her chest before she collapsed, unable to move. The whiskey from the pub was now making its presence known, and Octavia felt herself slipping away.
“I’m coming, Vinyl,” she whispered, a smile on her face. “I’ll be with you soon.” She mentally apologized to Viola String and Half Rest; two ponies who would never see Octavia in concert. Her vision was gone and a strange warmth spread through her body before she felt no more.
~~~
Viola String squeezed between the boards of the shack, her wide eyes wide with curiosity. She had watched from her box with her mother as Octavia went inside, but the grey mare had never come out. The filly wandered around, her nose wrinkling at the stench.
Her hoof bumped something on the ground and she looked down, letting out an ear piercing scream. Before long, there was a crash and her mother was behind her.
“Viola, get out of here, now. Inform the authorities that there is body. Go.” Viola did not have to be told twice. She ran from the shack, desperate to help the pony she admired so.
The stallion she returned with cleared the area, forcing everypony to return home for the morning. He nudged Octavia’s lifeless body with a hoof and sighed as he saw the picture in her hooves.
“Name, Octavia Philharmonica. Time of death, sometime last night. Location, same place as Vinyl Scratch,” he said aloud, making a note on his pad. The broken boards allowed a breeze to come into the shack, taking out some of the smell and bringing in the scent of a light spring day.
The wind tugged lightly at the page gripped in the mare's hoof; a faded picture, the final statement of her only real love. The policestallion closed his eyes and listened to the wind. For a moment, he could have sworn he heard someone singing. He shook his head and left the shack to wait for his fellow police ponies, all the while hearing the same eerie echo.
La la la la la la la
la la la la la la.
Author's Note
A late Hearts and Hooves day fic. I write a sad story every year, but this is the first time I've ever actually posted one (or let anyone know it existed). This isn't my best, but this was mainly written on an iPod on a school bus.
