//------------------------------// // Tipping The Scale // Story: Through Scarlet Eyes // by FaleYur //------------------------------// Frederick checked his watch, and again wondered why he had bothered to show up on time. He was dealing with Vinyl here after all, and in his months of knowing her, she had never once shown up on time. He sighed and looked indifferently at his lukewarm cup of coffee. Fashionably late was one thing. Obscenely late was another. Half an hour past the agreed time was strange, even for the absent-minded DJ. Frederick was thinking about just forgetting about the whole thing, and going back to Octavia’s flat. He would have already, but his threat to seek out the DJ, and the thought of spending more time in a darkened room with a very miserable cellist for another couple hours kept him in the relative safety of Sugarcube Corner. Relative being the key word here. An exuberant pink blur shot in front of him, almost spilling his coffee, and interrupting his thoughts. He would have been surprised, but the same thing had already happened a number of times in the past thirty minutes. Frederick managed a smile, even though his heart really wasn’t in it. “Hey Pinkie.” “Hiya Freddy!” came the giggled response from the seat next to him. “Vinyl not showed up yet?” Frederick fought the urge to say, “Yeah actually she has! She’s just invisible!” but stopped himself. The thought of an unseeable pony would probably send Pinkie into hysterics about how she would throw Vinyl a party for achieving invisibility. Instead he settled for, “No, not yet. But I’m expecting her within the next ten minutes.” Which was his default response for the last two occurrences. “Oh, again? Well, Vinyl sure seems to like those ten minuteses! Can I getcha another coffee?” Frederick regarded his half-finished drink. “No thanks Pinkie, I’m fine. Too much caffeine and I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Like he was going to get a wink of sleep anyways. He hadn’t for the last two days, he was practically running on the bitter drink. “Ok I guess. Oooh, but then we could do a sleep over, only with no sleep, and invite everypony in town, and I’d have lots of coffee for everypony, and then we could tell scary stories, and play hide and seek, and stay up allllll night and-” Pinkie stopped in the middle of her sentence, eye twitching. Frederick snapped out of a daze he had been in for the majority of the conversation and stared at her. Suddenly she shot up, flashed him a smile and a, “Sheeee’s here!” and bounced away humming an unidentifiable tune. Frederick had just enough time to regain his composure and close his gaping mouth before Vinyl came skidding around the corner. She looked frantically around for a second, noticed him sitting at the window, and started towards him, trying on a brave face. Frederick raised his eyebrows at her, but made no comment on her tardiness. As soon as she plopped down in the seat across from him, the confident look collapsed, and her forehead hit the table with a muffled thunk, sending a ripple through his coffee. “Ahmfofgrued” Frederick sighed. “Did you come here to talk to me, or the table Vinyl?” She lifted her head a little. “I am so screwed.” She stated, before plunking her face back down onto the wooden tabletop. Frederick had the urge to dump his coffee out on Vinyl’s head. “Straighten up and look at me for Celestia’s sake, or I’m going back to Octavia’s.” he threatened. That got her attention. She shot up, hope and confusion flashing across her features. “You’ve been to Octavia’s?” He rolled his eyes. “Of course. I practically haven’t been outside in days, and I don’t think she’s seen the sun in weeks.” Vinyl looked shocked for a second, before she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, groaning. “Oh buck me… Why am I such a dumbass?” Fredrick took a sip of his coffee and made a face. “Do you want me to write you a list? I don’t think I have that much paper.” He said sarcastically. “And no more of that self-blaming nonsense. I’ve dealt with that enough.” Vinyl looked at him with the most defeated expression he had seen to date. “There’s no one to blame but myself. I screwed up. Royally. And now Octy hates me.” “She has made it very clear that she hates herself far more than she hates you, or anyone else right now. Take it from somepony who has spent the last couple hours in a room full of Kleenex and memorabilia.” This seemed to surprise Vinyl. “Wha? Seriously?” “Yes,” he answered airily, “And she doesn’t leave except for rehearsals. Even when she shows up, she plays like a drunkard, hits about three right notes, and then leaves. We haven’t done a concert in a month.” Frederick took another gulp of coffee while Vinyl muddled that over. He’d got the message through finally. Vinyl knew that Octavia would never skip a rehearsal, and most certainly would never miss any notes while she was in the right mind. A flash of pink outside the window disappearing under an inconspicuous cardboard box caught his eye, and a foreboding feeling sunk over the pianist. “Damn.” She said eventually, dawning on the realization. “She blames herself?” “Exactly.” Frederick said, managing to take his mind off of the impending doom of the situation if Pinkie entered. “You both have been sitting at home, drinking yourselves into a stupor, each thinking that you’ll never get back together because the other one hates you-” “You let her drink?” Vinyl exclaimed, cutting him off. “You know she can’t hold her liquor!” “She’s only been drinking a little,” he said defensively, adding, “Not like you’ve probably been doing.” Vinyl made a sour face, but stopped her attack. Pressing his advantage, he pulled out a slip of paper. “While we’re still kind of on the topic of concerts and rehearsals, here’s a ticket for our next one. We’re playing before Mr. Philharmonica’s funeral, which you have been invited to I’m sure.” He gave her the ticket, and held up a hoof to silence Vinyl, who had opened her mouth in protest. “On top of that, I want you to show up at all of our rehearsals from now until then, no exceptions.” “But-” “No exceptions! We have them scheduled at four o’clock every day at the hall for a week starting tomorrow, and the funeral falls on the third one. Now come on, we’re leaving.” Frederick said, eager to get out of Pinkie’s blast radius, throwing some bits on the table to cover the coffee. “What?” Vinyl spluttered, flabbergasted. “Where are you going?” “We,” Frederick corrected adamantly, “Are going to Octavia’s, and yes, you have to come.” Vinyl closed her mouth, her next question having been answered before it was voiced. Frederick crossed over to the door irritably, wanting to leave before being interrupted by a certain unconventional earth pony, and held the door for her expectantly. After a moment of indecision, she followed him, and as she left the store, her expression was one of resigned dread. Frederick took one careful stride out of the café, and looked around. Seeing neither head nor tail of the party pony, he placed his hoof down, and was immediately covered in confetti and pastries following a loud BANG. Wiping cake out of his eyes and grumbling, he looked up and saw the party cannon perched precariously on the roof, pointing straight down. How Pinkie got it up there in the first place, he had no idea, and he wasn’t about to ask. Frederick glanced over at Vinyl, and saw that she hadn’t exactly eluded the blast either, although she had avoided being stuck knee deep in a giant upside down cake. A ghost of a smile flickered across her downcast face as she watched streamers twist down and land everywhere, tangling in her hair. Frederick rolled his eyes and dislodged himself from his chocolate prison, shaking like a dog to remove any excess party favours still wedged in his icing covered fur. “Come on.” He sighed, starting down the road again, ignoring the muffled giggles coming from the box on the sidewalk, and the amused smile of the DJ following in his wake.