Scratched Twice

Hitting another sour note her mood fell with it, this was just not her day. Ceasing her bow, she rubbed her forehead as she inwardly grumbled. Frustrated at herself for making such childish mistakes and at how unusually fatigue she been lately. Her fellow cast mates look to each other before silently agreeing it was time for much needed break.

Letting out a weary sigh, she work her way towards the water fountain nearest the practice hall. Filling a paper cup she took a few sips as baby blue earth pony joined her; the pony named Beauty Brass apprehensively watch her friend perplex at how to address her concerns for her friend.

“So…,” she began as she her filled own cupped taking careful consideration of next her choice of words. “Stress getting to you Octavia, or were just adding your own twist to the piece?”

Brushing off Beauty’s attempt to get her to talk, she tried her best to seem impassive, hoping that Beauty Brass would take the hint to drop it. For Beauty Brass however, she took it as an invite to continue her pursuit for answers.

“Cause you’re not one to make mistakes, especially on a piece were all quite familiar with”, pausing to think of a possible excuse for Octavia’s unusual little blunders. “Hmm, could this be about the upcoming Grand Galloping Gala auditions?”

Great, she just had to bring that up although; she’d hate to admit it. She was starting to get quite stressed worrying about this year’s auditions. Last year she had been blessed to play at the gala after going through a gut wrenching audition. It had been such big boost to her musical career. Unfortunately, her gala performance was sabotage by some crazy pink pony requesting them to play the pony pokey. Then adding insult to injury: she jostled poor Frederic while he politely tried play to her request and then gave “a helping hoof” before knocking her to the ground. At least her reputation as a musician wasn’t tarnished, she couldn’t be held accountable for that one disaster of the night.

She cringed remembering what a catastrophe that night at the gala had been. She still could see vivid images of ponies panicking as one disaster followed another; first the palace ballroom became avalanche of debris as it crumbled to pieces. Then add that insane pink pony turning respectable socialite event into a backwash hoedown. Then to everyponies horror the gala became a stamped of the princess’s exotic treasure trove of animals, officially turning the gala into a doomed circus. Putting all that aside, this year she’d redeemed herself. She would ace this year auditions, proving her prowess as one Canterlot’s top musicians, providing that security would be stricter to prevent something like last year’s events from reoccurring. Her life would be complete so long if she never saw that pink pony ever again.

Turning her attention back to Beauty Brass whom she had let continue her ramblings to which she was only half heartily listening to.

“I mean what other reason could it be, don’t you agreed Octavia?”

“What?” Octavia asked back lost since she didn’t quite catch what Beauty had talking about earlier.

“I said could you possibly be sick, since you’re the kind of pony who has tendency to overwork herself…”

“Who’s sick?” interrupted a stallions voice.

Both mares turn their heads at first startle by the intrusion, but relaxed when they recognized the stallion as their pianist, a regal light brown stallion named Frederic Horseshoepin, who happen also have their quiet, purple stallion harpist, Harpo, following behind him.

Three sets of eyes on her all showing genuine concern; Octavia was starting to feel cornered unless she said something to reassure them. Her ears flopped down showing that she was breaking under combine efforts. They were her second family: the siblings she never had in lonely her childhood and at times there were endearing, but she wouldn’t change that for anything.

“Aren't at I least entitled to a bad day once awhile?” Octavia asked them looking worn down.

“True, but wouldn’t hurt to go in for a simple checkup. You haven’t been yourself lately and as your friends, we are just suggesting this because were all concern for you. Last thing we need is our cellist becoming ill. It would be hard to find a replacement that would remotely be as talented as you” said Frederick giving Octavia warm smile.

“You’re not going to let this go till I agreed are you?” she asked her cast mates who all nodded in agreement.

Sighing in defeat, she’d go tomorrow morning before their next rehearsal, just to reassure her friends...

Two days had passed since she went in for a simple routine checkup at one of Canterlot’s local clinics. So far everything seemed to pass by as a stagnant blur for Octavia as she laid on her bed staring into space. Two days or a week it didn’t matter, she rolled out her bed uncertain on how to face the inevitable. She was obligated to tell the ensembles sponsor what was ailing her, but considering what most likely misfortunate consequences awaited her. She still vainly was praying that Dr.Gallop was an incompetent moron and that the news she received two day ago was just figment of her imagination brought on by stress. Thinking back to that fateful morning she still could barely comprehend what happen, but still vividly remember the morning that would make everything she work so hard for becoming wasted effort.

She was starting to doubt the medical community creditable intelligence at who work in it as she waited in Dr. Gallop's examine room. She was feeling a little embarrassed at how she had shouted at Dr. Gallop demanding him to retest her. It was one of those of moments were she was certain that pony incompetence was at hand. . The door creaked open to reveal an orange stallion wearing a standard white lab coat that looked apprehensive at telling Octavia news he had already relayed to her.

“My dear, I have performed several tests one you and still the only one you test positive for being roughly about eight to ten weeks…” said Dr. Gallop as he tried to maintain the calm while, but Octavia was visibly in disbelief.

“It… it... It’s not’s p...p…p… possible,” Octavia said weakly fighting back the reality that was slowly beginning to settle in. It didn’t make sense, she never been another pony intimately recently that could make the orange earth pony doctor results seem in any sense logical to her.

Placing a comforting hoof on her shoulder before saying.

“Listen, I know this at first seems like a disaster, but things will work themselves out eventually. There are support groups you go to for mares in similar situations like you. Here’s a pamphlet, you can use as a guide for things you can do to promote a healthy pregnancy and I’ve also written the estimated date of your conception on the back, so you can make sense of this yourself. Now I recommend you get some rest, stick with your normal healthy eating habits and I’ll see you at end of this month for your first progress checkup”, said the doctor as he did his best to offer comfort to Octavia.

Pity for this young mare he thought, she was such an aspiring young musician in the classical community as he had recognized from a recital he had taken his wife to. Unfortunately in elite, noble community she’d most likely end up dealing with old fashion stigma against mares in her situation. He truly wished the best for mother and foal as he watched her leave his clinic.

The walk from her apartment to the Canterlot’s most premiered institute put Octavia in foreboding mood. Prepping herself for the inevitable one on one with the institute’s head chairpony of the music department and her ensembles sponsor; a stuffy unicorn stallion named Jazz. She knew by end of this day, it would most likely become one of worst experiences of her life.

Today the institute looked even more intimidating than ever as she trotted through the music wing entrance toward the practice where her ensemble was stationed out of. Equestria’s finest studied here and at times she felt homely compare to some the students of this school, but then again most of foals here were from well off families who brought there way in. Feeling slightly better knowing she got here on mostly her talent alone. Her internal ramblings were cut short as she got sight of very pony she was dreading meeting just leaving the practice hall. There stood Jazz in his signature green tartan suit with matching black bowtie seemly doing one of his known routine walkthroughs to keep ponies on their hoofs, making sure his department maintain its illustrious reputation. Catching sight of Octavia, he beckoned her over.

“Octavia Philharmonica I presume, “he said in his deep monotone voice.

“Yes sir”

“I heard from cast mates you took some days off under sick leave, care to explain,” he said looking down at her with the infamous sneer the elite class was known for.

Looking into Jazz’s cold eyes, she had never felt so vulnerable that what she said next could barely be heard, “I…I…I’m having a foal”.

“Pardon, I didn’t quite catch that”.

Recomposing herself, she said louder, “I’m Pregnant”, the words rolled off her tongue felt so foreign.

“I see…, so I assume you and your husband are thrilled then,” said Jazz attempting to be too polite, but something caught his eye. Octavia’s inability to make eye contact with him and her silence lead to her own doom as Jazz soon pieced together her situation from telltale signs that he was all too familiar with.

Taking a moment to compose himself he began, “How unfortunate, but I can’t have your “mistake” tarnishing my department. I’ll be kind and let you go with three months’ salary as compensation so can deal with your situation. Now I think it best if would take your leave today. My sympathies, Miss Philharmonica” he said emotionless as he pushed past her walking away in the direction towards his office. Leaving Octavia in a reeling daze at what just transpired.