“Vinyl!” I yelled as I stormed down the stairs, “You will never guess what I found while cleaning your room.” My mind was filled with images of what I could do to my lying duplicitous roommate and the princess who ruined my life. Some of the more extreme ones might have constituted light treason.
“Did you find that weird blob monster living on one of the walls? I know he is pretty freaky but after a while he kind of grows on you.” I might have been more concerned about how she had befriended a giant fungus, but at the moment, I was incensed.
“No… well, yes, but I also found a certain blue book,” I said, stepping closer to her. My head was pounding, and I felt ready to tear somepony apart (Although that might be difficult considering my lack of unicorn magic or hands, I could definitely trample somepony though).
“And I am guessing you read it?” She said looking up at me.
I nodded my head, still glaring at her.
“Look Tavi, I can explain. I know I wrote about how I got a letter from Celestia requesting that I be patient with you, and I know I said some very not nice things about you, but…”
“You played at the royal wedding!” I yelled. Sure, I had just found out that my best friend hated me, the last few days of my life were a hollow lie, and Celestia apparently took great pleasure in making me miserable, but right now I was choosing to focus on the fact that Celestia and Luna had decided to let a DJ play at a royal function. It’s good to have your priorities straight.
“Wait… you are upset about the fact that I was selected to perform at the royal wedding?”
I nodded.
“And… you’re not upset by the letter or—”
“Oh no,” I said, “I am absolutely furious about that. But right now, I am choosing to focus on why in Equestria they would have a DJ play at the royal wedding as opposed to an actual musician.”
“Not an actual musician?” Before I could formulate a proper response, she was on her hooves, her muzzle inches from mine. It seemed I had struck a nerve with my normally tranquil roommate. “I’m not an actual musician?”
“No Vinyl, you are a DJ. You don’t play any actual instruments; you play recordings made by actual proper musicians. Yet they hired YOU to perform at the wedding.”
“Yeah, well maybe they hired me because the last few times they hired a ‘proper musician’ the entire celebration was ruined. My reception went off without a hitch”
Thoughts raced through my head. Very unkind thoughts that are in no way suitable for this text, most of them focusing on what Vinyl could do to herself and how she could do it. The failure of the Grand Galloping Gala was in no way my fault, and to even insinuate that it was…
“Oh, and Tavi, I may not be a musician, but at least I am an artist.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means that while I might use pre-recorded tracks, I make something original with them. You, on the other hoof, couldn’t make something new or novel to save your life. You just play the notes in front of you. Like a machine. You are no more an artist than your cello, and at least your cello didn’t put on airs.”
Her words stung. I struggled to think of something to say, some witty retort that would put me back on the offensive, but the truth was, she was right. I had always struggled to come up with original music, and instead chose to focus on mastering the classics. Rote memorization and practice came to me far more easily than actually creating, and my lack of original content was one of my sore spots. The only time I had successfully improvised was when I was drunk, and even then I was improvisation and not true creation. I wasn’t an artist. I wanted to be, but I wasn’t. My lower lip quivered. Vinyl’s face softened, she was about to apologize. A substantial part of me wanted to accept her apology and work to make amends for my harsh words (and enormous violation of trust). Unfortunately, a far larger part of me wanted to lash out and hurt somepony else for once.
“Don’t.” I took a step back and covered her mouth with my hoof, “I read your journal; I know how you feel about me. I know the only reason you tolerate me is because Celestia asked you too. Well don’t worry, you won’t have to listen to me complain about how unrefined something is anymore. In fact, you won’t have to deal with your snobby stuck up roommate again.” With that, I turned around and stormed out the door. For approximately three seconds I was positively ecstatic to have gotten the last word in. The feeling quickly evaporated as I realized I had lost one of the few ponies I had genuinely cared for. Still, if she thought I was obnoxious, then I didn’t need or want her friendship. With that… taken care of, I headed towards the library. It was time to tell the ruling princess of Equestria exactly how I felt about her manipulations, but to do that, I had to find her most faithful student.
After thirty seconds of knocking, Princess Sparkle finally opened her door. “You know, I heard you after the first knock Octavia, you didn’t have to keep knocking.”
I walked in, not bothering to wait for an invitation. “What do you know about me being sent to Ponyville?” I asked.
“Uhmm… I know you were sent here to form an orchestra for Princess Luna, and that you had auditions yesterday. How did those go, anyways?”
I quickly gestured to the bandages wrapped around my ears, “About as well as anything else since I came to this sanity forsaken town.”
“What happened?”
“Vinyl blew up the town hall with her bass cannon AND she temporarily deafened me.”
“Well, accidents do happen. At least nopony was seriously injured.” Apparently having your ear drums ruptured doesn’t count as a serious injury. What hoofing joy.
“Twilight. I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer honestly. Did you know about the letter Princess Celestia sent Vinyl?”
“The one saying you were going to be moving in with her?”
“I will take that as a yes,” I said, taking a few steps closer to her. The urge to commit a few instances of regicide was quickly becoming overpowering.
“Did you know Princess Celestia told Vinyl to be patient with me? To put up with me?”
“Not until now, no, but that does sound like something she would do.” Twilight nodded, choosing to ignore the anger in my voice.
“What do you mean by that? Does she make it a habit of ruining ponies’ lives? Of sending them away from their homes and destroying everything they ever cared about?” I stomped my hoof down at the end of that last bit. Was the princess playing some sort of game with me? Was the entire idea for a Ponyville Orchestra nothing more than a ruse created to destroy my happiness? It didn’t seem possible, but then why would the Princess interfere with my rather idyllic life.
“No. She… Princess Celestia cares about all of her subjects, and if she hears that one of them isn’t doing well, she will work to fix it.” Twilight said, “It was because of her efforts that I made my five best friends and I finally opened up to other ponies.”
“But I was fine, I was perfectly happy in Canterlot. Since I moved to this town, I have spent several nights in the hospital, lost my most valued possessions, and it turns out that the few friends I managed to acquire only tolerate me because the Princess asked them to.”
“That’s not true. I didn’t get a letter telling me to be nice to you, Pinkie Pie certainly didn’t, and I don’t think Lyra and Bon Bon did either. You still have some friends in the area.”
I nodded my head, and felt my anger begin to evaporate evaporate, “You have a point. I am certain Lyra’s overture of friendship is genuine, and Bon Bon is agreeable enough. As for Pinkie, well…”
“She is Pinkie Pie,” Twilight said, helpfully filling in for me.
“You are correct Twilight, despite Vinyl and Celestia’s duplicity, I have made quite a few friends, and once I acquire a new cello, I will be well equipped to deal with whatever madness Ponyville decides to throw at me. Thank you for your counsel.”
“I am glad to help out. Although, I would suggest that you try to talk things out with Vinyl. You two make a good match for each other.” She patted me on the back as we walked to the door of her library. “Just keep an open mind and I am sure things will work.”
I smiled as I stepped out the door and turned to face my host, “You do have a penchant for giving good advice, or at the very least, advice that sounds reasonable.”
She beamed, “Well I certainly hope so, I have learned quite a bit about friendship during my time in Ponyville, and it feels good to share my knowledge with ponies in need.”
“Well, thank you for the assistance Twilight. I… really do feel a lot better now.”
“Again, don’t mention it. Will I see you at Rarity’s tonight?”
After a moment’s thought, I nodded my head. “I think I will be able to make an appearance. Assuming she will want the pony who burned down her boutique there.”
Twilight gave out an exasperated sigh, “We already spoke about that Octavia, and you know you aren’t at fault, so why even say that?”
“Because the world makes sense if I did something wrong. Then all the terrible things that have happened to me in the last week have a reason.”
She patted me on the back and gave a small sad smile, “Just don’t forget about the good things that happened to you too. You’ve made quite a few friends and are surrounded by ponies that care about you. That’s quite an accomplishment.”
I matched her smile. “I suppose you are right, and I certainly haven’t been bored since I moved here.”
“Then I will see you at Rarity’s party,” she said, before shutting the door.
With my mood lifted somewhat, I took my time walking back to the house. While I still had the occasional coughing fit and had to take a small rest every few minutes, I felt substantially better than I did yesterday or the day before. Who knows, I thought, in a few more days I might be fully recovered. Assuming some other tragedy didn’t incapacitate or otherwise injure me and… Why do I keep tempting fate? I swear, if I am ever in the middle of one of those terrible slasher novels, I will be the pony to cheerfully exclaim that everything will be okay just before getting stabbed to death.
Still, thanks to my conversation, things didn’t seem so dire. Yes, my friendship with Vinyl might be a horrible lie orchestrated by Celestia for her own mysterious ends, but the rest of my friendships were genuine and… why did I care about friendship all of a sudden? Up until a few days ago I was perfectly happy to live my life alone and practice my craft. Now the idea of living without one of the ponies I cared about was enough to send me into a rage and briefly contemplate regicide. I found the whole change in my demeanor rather distressing, and briefly contemplated whether or not the change was positive. But then, without my new friends, could I have withstood the challenges of living in Ponyville? Probably not. Especially Vinyl, without her, I might have choked to death in the foyer of my own home. And now, I was considering discarding that friendship because she wrote some bad things about me in her journal even though my journal was filled with derisive comments aimed at my roommate. On reflection, I might have been a touch hypocritical.
Now calmed, I walked back into the house. “Vinyl? Are you there?” I said, looking for my roommate. The house was quiet. “Is anypony here?” I took a few steps inside the house. It was dark, quiet. Every other time I had been alone in our house, it had felt warm, inviting. Now, I felt like an intruder in my own home. But then, maybe it wasn’t my home anymore. I had stormed out in quite a huff, and hadn’t planned on returning. The few possessions I had were unimportant (Somehow, Miss Minor had slipped my mind), and when I left I was hoping I would never have to see Vinyl again. So of course when I came back to hear her out and apologize, she was nowhere to be found.
My stomach growled. Despite my earlier musings, this was still my home, and I highly doubted anypony would object if I fixed something to eat while I waited. Browsing the kitchen, I decided to fix a bowl of oats and wait for my remote to return.
And wait.
And wait.
Finally, shortly after 5:00, I heard the front door open, “Vinyl, is that you?”
“Yep,” my roommate said as she trotted into the kitchen. “Didn’t expect to see you back so soon, what’s up?”
“I…” The words caught in my mouth. How could I apologize to her for violating her trust, reading her journal, telling her she isn’t a real musician (Although, I still believe that last claim is perfectly true), threatening to revoke our friendship, and storming out of the house without giving her a chance to explain?
Before I could finish my thought and formulate an acceptable apology, Vinyl had moved to sit next to me and was patting me on the back, “It’s alright,” she said, “We both said a lot of things I am sure we regret, so let’s just forget all about it. Okay?”
“No.”
“Wait. What?” Vinyl said.
I closed my eyes, “Vinyl, for some reason I find myself caring about you a great deal. Talking with you always manages to cheer me up, and I look forward to the times we spend together. So, before I go and forgive you, I need to know that our friendship is genuine, and that you aren’t just tolerating me because Princess Celestia asked you to.
Vinyl laughed for a few seconds before kissing me on the forehead, “Tavi, you are a monumental idiot. Of course we are friends, how could you think otherwise?”
Well, for starters, she did just kiss me, which is not something I believe friends typically do, but… “Because you wrote at length, or well… not really at length because your journal entries are incredibly short, but you did write about how unbearably stuck-up and pretentious I was, and I believe there was a section where you stated that you would whether deafen yourself with the bass cannon than listen to me complain about how ‘uncouth’ something was.”
“You’re right, I did say those things, and I still think that you’re super snobby.” My ears flattened as she said that. “But, I have also gotten to know the pony underneath all of that, and she is great. I mean, you’re smart and hardworking, sure, everypony who meets you figures that out kind of quick, mostly because you absolutely insist on rubbing it in, but then, if they stick around, they see a mare who is heroic, selfless, and actually pretty sweet.”
I arched an eyebrow at that last bit, “I highly doubt anypony who has seen me lose my temper would describe me as sweet.”
“Okay, yeah, you get upset from time to time, but you almost always feel bad about it afterwards, and then you work your flank off to make amends. Besides, you only get upset when something goes absolutely horribly for you. And that happens… actually, pretty often.”
“Please don’t remind me,” I said, groaning, “If I realize that nothing exceptionally terrible has happened to me today, then I am sure this town will endeavor to remedy that situation.”
“Anyways, like I was saying, you do get upset from time to time, but you always work to do better afterwards. You’re always trying to be the best pony possible, and that is what I love about you.”
“In a platonic fashion, right?”
“Uhh… yeah. Yeah, of course. Even if you are still super prissy.”
To my great surprise, I laughed at that. I even playfully swatted at her in response to her joke. What is wrong with me?
“So who cares if Celestia told me to be nice to you? We are friends now, and that’s what matters. Although, you do need to work on respecting other ponies’ property.”
I blushed as she reminded me of my massive trespass, “You are right, I shouldn’t have looked through your journal. And I am sorry for saying you aren’t a real musician, you are an exceptionally talented DJ.”
She nodded, “You’re damned right I am.”
“So then… is everything copasetic?” I asked.
“Huh?”
“Fine. Is everything fine? Are we fin—”
Before I could finish, the pony had wrapped her forelegs around me and I found myself struggling for breath. “We’re better than fine Tavi, we aren’t just copa-whatever, we are super copa-whatever.” It seems that in her excitement, Vinyl forgot about my breathing difficulties. Thankfully, a coughing fit quickly reminded her.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she said, quickly breaking her embrace, “I forgot that you are still recovering and I guess I got a bit carried away.”
“It’s fine,” I said, getting back on my hooves. “Now then, if all of that unpleasantness is settled, I believe we have a party at Rarity’s to attend.”
“Well, yeah, but it doesn’t start for another thirty minutes. We will be fine.”
“Don’t tell me you intend to arrive at the stated time,” I said.
“No, I was kind of planning on showing up maybe twenty minutes late, you know, to make a big entrance and stuff.”
I let out a sigh, of course she was, “Vinyl, this is presumably a formal party, and that means we show up a few minutes early so that we can properly mingle.”
“Since when do you like mingling and talking with ponies?”
“I don’t,” I said while adjusting my bowtie, “But it is only proper etiquette.”
She rolled her eyes, “Do you want me to describe you as prissy in my journal again?”
“Not particularly,” I said, my lips forming a small smile, “But I would much rather be described as prissy than a poor or ungrateful guest. So go on and get changed.”
“What? Why do I have to get dressed up? I mean, this isn’t like some super formal thing is it?”
I sighed, of course this wouldn’t be easy, “Vinyl, this is the grand reopening for the premiere fashion salon in Ponyville,” (Overly narrow superlative, I know) “And Rarity would probably appreciate it if you wore something that she designed.”
My roommate groaned, “Alright, I have that dress she designed for the royal wedding. I didn’t actually wear it, but she insisted that I take it. Just in case.” Because my roommate, the DJ, was invited to play for the royal princesses, at the first royal wedding in a century, which didn’t end in a career ruining disaster, and I was… perfectly okay with that. Well, mostly okay.
“Alright,” I said, waving a hoof towards her room, “Go get changed, I will try to style my mane so that it looks… acceptable.” I headed up towards my bedroom.
“Whoa! You mean we had that whole thing about me getting dressed up and all you are going to do is style your mane.”
“In my defense, I will still be wearing my traditional bowtie, and my dress is currently lost in the Everfree, so unless you feel like retrieving it for me...” I trailed off, allowing her to complete the thought.
“Fine, fine, fine,” she said, “But while I am there you are totally getting a fancy dress and I will make you wear it at every party we go to.”
“Even the tawdry parties you DJ for?”
She nodded, “Especially those parties.” She grinned. Apparently she wanted me to think of this as some form of punishment. The prospect made me absolutely ecstatic.
“If you insist,” I said as I walked up to my room.
“Wait! No complaints, no protests, no anything?” She asked walking behind me.
I laughed, “Vinyl, I like dressing up. In case you haven’t noticed, I wear a bowtie and collar all the time. Forcing me to go to wear a fancy dress at a party isn’t my idea of a punishment, it’s my idea of a lovely evening. Even if the party I am attending isn’t quite as refined as I’d prefer.”
Vinyl frowned as we reached the hallway on the top floor, “In that case, you are going to one of my parties dressed up like a mare in a Las Pegasus night club.”
The image made me shutter. In my head, I was wearing far too much lipstick and makeup, my mane looked like it was held together by an excessive amount of gel, and I was wearing a dress that covered up practically nothing (And yes, I understand how odd it is that equine society considers a revealing outfit while walking around nude is the status quo).
“Come on Vinyl, that is just… a touch excessive, isn’t it? After all, I am just trying to make it so you don’t stand at a formal function.”
“And I just want to make sure that you blend in at a party that is actually fun. Besides, I will let you wear your bow if it makes you feel any better.”
“I am not bringing my bowtie to a club that smells like cheap liquor and even cheaper women. It is far too refined for such a place.”
“Fine,” she said, shrugging, “So then you will do it?”
I sighed, “I suppose I can try dressing down for once, although I was looking forward to purchasing one of Rarity’s dresses.”
“We can still do that,” she said as she headed into her room, “Besides, if you are going to drag me to another one of these boring fancy parties, you can bet your sweet flank I am gonna have you dress up.”
I clapped my hooves together excitedly, before remembering that I needed to compose myself with some dignity, “I suppose that is acceptable then.”
Vinyl laughed, “Tavi, you know you can let your mane down from time to time right? Nopony is going to think less of you for it.”
I nodded, “I know that Vinyl, but I absolutely loathe losing my composure. It signifies an underlying loss of control that I absolutely cannot accept.”
She smiled and shook her head, “Whatever you say Tavi. Now I gotta go get changed because somepony is forcing me to get dressed up. You should probably get ready as well.”
With that, she closed the door to her room, and I was left staring at it like an idiot for a half second. How did she make it seem like she was doing me a favor by getting dressed up when it was obvious I was the one who was helping her? I shook my head and walked into my room. It normally didn’t take that long for me to style my mane, but I gave the task extra attention as I was going to be representing myself (and by extension Princess Luna) at one of Ponyville’s few formal functions. Anything less than perfection simply would not suffice.
Several minutes later, my hair was neatly styled, and my bowtie was sharp and crisp. I was ready to party (within reasonable limits). I trotted back downstairs and sat on the sofa, very careful to not mess up my mane. A few minutes later, I heard Vinyl exit her room and walk downstairs.
She was… well, stunning is such a clichéd adjective, it explains a general sentiment, but lacks any actual specificity. One pony’s idea of stunning might be another pony’s idea of gaudy. Still, having said all that, she was absolutely stunning. Her dress was a mix of light and dark purple (the lighter purple being the same shade as her eyes), with the tail section of the dress being colored to match her actual tail. “And you didn’t wear that to the wedding… why?”
Vinyl shrugged, “It wasn’t my style. All I really need to party are my goggles and turntable.”
I facehoofed. “Vinyl, when somepony makes a dress for you that is that… exquisite, you really should wear it. Rarity has probably spent all this time thinking that you hated her dress because you didn’t wear it.”
“Fine, I am sorry. I will tell her how much I like the dress at the party,” she said, “Now can we please go?”
“Of course,” I said, heading to the door, “We spent so much time bickering and getting dressed, there is now a very real possibility that we will be late.”
“Maybe by like… a couple of minutes,” she said as we headed out the door, “But really, what is the big deal?”
I glared at her, we were not having this discussion again, we had already wasted quite enough time today talking about proper etiquette (That is a bit of a lie, one can never spend enough time discussing the finer points of life, but I doubt most ponies would agree with me on that statement).
Vinyl was quiet after that, and the rest of our walk to the boutique was amiable. We both spoke a bit more about life in Canterlot, and Vinyl regaled me with tales of her academy exploits. A great majority of them ended with her getting black out drunk, taking a cute mare (or stallion when the mood struck her) home, staying up all night to DJ, or, occasionally, doing all three at once. And I thought college was about learning and self-improvement.
We got to Rarity’s house and Vinyl knocked on the door, I could definitely hear ponies moving about on the other side, and a second later, Rarity had opened the door for us, “Oh do come in darlings, you are right on time.” Our gracious host ushered us in, where the party was in full swing. A polka played in the background, balloons and confetti filled the lower level, and ponies danced with no unifying style. Princess Sparkle’s dancing was particularly interesting, and I considered whether or not she was having a seizure. Vinyl shot me a look that could charitably be described as dirty.
“You said this would be a fancy party,” she whispered to me as we walked in, “This is just a typical Pinkie Party.”
“I thought it would be, the other party I was at was far more… sophisticated.” As if to punctuate my point, Pinkie Pie leapt into the air and swallowed an entire cake in one bite.
Rarity came up behind us as I spoke, “I do hope you don’t that this party is a bit more… rambunctious than the last one. Pinkie absolutely insisted on throwing the party for me, and I do so hate turning a friend down. Even if their idea of a good time and mine don’t necessarily coincide.”
I nodded. “Of course, although I do wish I had known that in advance. If I had, I wouldn’t have insisted that Vinyl dressed up.”
As soon as I mentioned that Vinyl had dressed up, Rarity moved to analyze the pony, “Why darling, is that the dress I made for the wedding?” Her eyes ran over every inch of the fabric, analyzing how it fit my roommate. “I thought you hated it. After all, you decided to go to the wedding au natural as opposed to wear the dress I slaved over.”
Vinyl blushed, and I reveled in seeing my roommate at a loss for words for once, “Well, you see, it is a really nice dresses, super lovely, but dresses aren’t my style, they seem kind of frilly and pointless. I mean, I spent most of my days walking naked anyways.”
The fashion designer’s eye twitched, but to her credit, she managed to stay collected, “Oh, I absolutely understand. Most ponies these days think that dresses just aren’t… practical, and while I can understand their point of view, I believe they add a touch of class and sophistication that is oft missing in these modern times.” She smiled, “But then, I do make my living designing dresses, so I might be just a touch biased.”
They both laughed at that, and I looked at the “new and improved” Carousel Boutique. It looked almost exactly like the old one, horrible design decisions and all. Still, the mare knew how to make a lovely dress, I was having a hard time keeping my eyes off of Vinyl’s flank (Because of the way the dress drew the eye towards the soft contours of her body, not due to any misplaced romantic interest).
“I am just glad you have a friend who forces you to appreciate the finer things in life,” Rarity said, gesturing towards me. That was my cue to smile, thank her politely, and point out that it was indeed an effort to talk her into getting dressed up.
“Well I hope you don’t mind if I took the liberty of preparing a little thank you ceremony. Once I told the girls about how you helped me, we all decided to find some way of expressing our gratitude.” That didn’t sound like it could go spectacularly wrong. I said a quick prayer to Celestia Luna that Rarity had seen to fireproofing this place when she was rebuilding. “And on that note, I have three little fillies who have been meaning to apologize to you for the past several days.”
She whistled, and as if on que, the three harbingers of doom, or as they are more colloquially called, the Cutie Mark Crusaders, popped out from behind… somewhere.
“Hi Octavia,” the orange one started.
“We’re really sorry,” Sweetie Belle said, continuing the thought for her friend.
“We didn’t mean ta upstage ya,” Apple Bloom continued.
“Or burn down the boutique,”
“Or make ya lose your cello,”
“Or send your life into a depressing downward spiral that ends with you becoming a shut-in who only knows the comfort of a cold bottle of bourbon.” The other two stopped and stared at their pegasus friend.
“That ain’t what we rehearsed,” Apple Bloom said.
“Anyways, we are really sorry, please forgive us?” The three of them said simultaneously.
I glared at them. They stared back, Sweetie Belle’s eyes began to wander and she made a face that… The cold logical part of my brain melted and I was filled with warm happy thoughts, “It’s alright girls, I forgive you… just” Don’t have the unicorn make that face again, “Try to stay out of trouble, please.” I tried to smile, their heads swiveled back to stare at Rarity, she gave a small nod, and they quickly bounced off to go elsewhere.
“So girls, what are we gonna do next?” Apple Bloom asked as they moved back into the party.
“I bet Pinkie Pie can teach us how to throw an awesome party,” Scootaloo said.
“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS PARTY PLANNERS YAY!”
Hopefully, those three fillies took my message of staying out of trouble to heart, but as they mobbed Pinkie Pie, I highly doubted it.
“Your sister can be… quite persuasive when she wants to be,” I said, turning to face Rarity.
“Yes, honestly, she can be such a drama queen sometimes, I just don’t know WHERE she gets it from.” She raised a foreleg to her forehead and did her best “woe is me face, “Anyways, I do hope you enjoy yourself, the ceremony should be any minute now.”
“You really don’t have to hold a ceremony for me,” I said, wondering where Vinyl had gotten off to, “I hardly did anything.”
“Oh you must stop being so modest, darling,” Rarity saving, waving a hoof at me, “If you weren’t there, things would have been far worse.”
I highly doubted that, but she had a look in her eyes that said there was absolutely no way in Equestria I was going to persuade her otherwise. I sighed and nodded my head, “If you need me, I will be trying to find my roommate before she gets into too much trouble.”
I found Vinyl a minute later, she was standing next to the bar, mixing a drink I could smell from several feet away. How anypony could drink that, I will never know.
“Hey Tavi,” she said, waving a hoof at me. “Sorry about wandering off, but they have an open bar, and I really didn’t feel like hearing you and Rarity talk about dresses for an hour. What’s up?”
“Not much,” I said, pouring myself a glass of wine, “Rarity has some surprise planned for later tonight, and after the last few days, I am not really in the mood for anything unexpected. If I’m lucky, it won’t end in Ponyville being completely annihilated.”
“You really think that’s going to happen?” She asked as she knocked back her drink. Amazingly, she was still standing after drinking that much purified alcohol. She poured herself another glass.
“I might be exaggerating a touch, but considering how… bizarre the last few days have been, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Vinyl laughed, “Well hey, no matter how bad it gets, you still got me right?”
I smiled and looked at her, “I suppose I do, and that makes all the terrible things that have happened since I moved here… well, if not worth it, then certainly bearable.”
“And don’t forget all the other friends you have made since you got here, I mean, there is Lyra, Bon Bon, Pinkie Pie, of course, Rarity, and I think Twilight too. Keep this up, and you will be the most popular mare in Ponyville.”
Instead of dignifying that last statement with a comment, I just smiled at the mare. She was right though, I did have quite a collection of friends, and they were all very dear to me, even if they irked me from time to time. Without them, this town probably would have broken me by now.
A microphone’s squealing pulled me from my reverie, and I saw that Rarity had taken to her makeshift stage. She even had an audio system although I personally found that to be a touch excessive, “Excuse me, everypony, but I have an announcement to make.”
The crowd quieted itself, and Rarity resumed speaking, “As you all know, the past few days have been very trying for me and my friends. But there is one pony who bravely risked life and limb to ensure that nopony was harmed when my boutique burned down. Her heroism led to the loss of her prized cello, and so today I wish to extend my thanks to her and show my sincere appreciation.
As if on cue, Twilight walked on stage, carrying a… Oh my dear sweet Luna. She was carrying a cello. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to not jump up on my back legs and clap my forehooves together like a school filly. The thing… I quickly decided my new cello needed a name, was simply extraordinary. As I walked closer, it looked like it was made from some very high quality wood, possibly oak, and… it was definitely sculpted from living wood, and not hewn from dead lumber like a majority of modern instruments were. She, the cello was definitely a she, was hoofcrafted and sculpted with magic, and in the right light it looked like she was made of gold. The strings themselves were… they were made of solid cloud. While pegasi were known to have instruments formed from clouds, they didn’t tend to share their techniques with the other races. My new cello could probably command a princely sum if I ever had a mind to sell it.
I took the stage and bowed, “Thank you, Rarity, this is truly a wonderful gift, that I don’t think I am worthy of.”
She smiled diplomatically, “Oh, you must stop being so humble dear. Besides, we simply will not take no for an answer, this cello was made just for you.”
“Really?” I asked, not believing that Ponyville could produce something so beautiful.
Rarity nodded, “Vinyl told us about how your cello had burned down in the fire, and we all decided to make you a new one to show our appreciation. I designed it and used your measurements to make sure it was a perfect fit for you.”
“Wait, how did you get my measurements?” I asked. This was probably not an ideal conversation to have in front of a crowd of ponies.
She just laughed, “Darling, I make dresses for a living. It was easy enough for me to eyeball it, although I would have preferred sitting you down for actual measurements, but I suppose that would ruin the surprise.” She frowned at that, “Anyways, Twilight used the living wood in her home to form the body of your cello, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy sculpted the strings and made sure a non-pegasus pony could play them. Vinyl donated a hair from her tail to form the bowstring, and Twilight put some enchantments on it to make your cello virtually indestructible.”
My mind sorted through everything she said, a borderline indestructible cello was good, especially considering how awful the past few days had been, and then there was… What was that about the bow string? While bowstrings were typically made from the hair of a horse’s tail, most ponies didn’t know who their donor was. In fact, some ponies whose tails had the proper consistency could make a living by selling their tail hair (or at least manage to augment their income). However, I found that a touch excessive, and instead opted for the cheaper solution of using one of my own tail hairs to make a new bowstring whenever the old one broke. Still, her donation was appreciated, and as I picked up the bow and cello, I felt an electric current run through my body. It was time to play.
Without speaking or prompting, I launched into the first piece of music I could think of. It was a joyous ecstatic piece, celebrating the first raising of the sun and the birth of modern Equestria. As musical pieces went, there were few that matched this one for sheer joy. My hoof gripped the bow tightly, and as I played, everything just felt… right. Rarity wasn’t joking when she said that it had been crafted to fit my body, and the use of living wood… every one of my senses delighted when I played it (Even smell and taste somehow).
There are few minutes in my life that I considered perfect, but at that instant, playing a cello made just for me, surrounded by ponies who cared, there were no other words to describe it. I finally finished playing and bowed before the ponies, my friends. They applauded and stomped their hooves on the ground. Eventually, a few of them started requesting a speech, and the chant soon spread to everypony in the room.
Public speaking is not my forte. That might seem slightly incongruous considering my chosen profession, but I really dislike talking to large crowds of ponies. Although, in the interest of fairness, I tend to dislike talking to smaller numbers of ponies as well. In general, I just dislike talking to ponies, I suppose. Still, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to make a few comments.
“I hate Ponyville,” I said. The crowd let out a very audible gasp, and I saw Rarity move to take the microphone away from me. “I hate this town. Since I moved here, my lungs have been scorched, I lost my most prized possession, and a series of terrible events that, in any other context, could be described as farcical have happened to me. However, having said that, the ponies in this town are absolutely wonderful. In my short time here, I have made more friends than I did during several years in Canterlot, and even those of you out in the audience that I don’t recognize still treat me as close companion. You are all wonderful, wonderful ponies, and it is because of you all that I am standing here today as a sane mare as opposed to being locked away in an asylum somewhere. So thank you citizens of Ponyville, you truly are the best part of this town.” I bowed again, and after a few seconds of thought, there were a few tentative claps. Pinkie Pie brought out a case for my cello, a case designed to fit her… unique sensibilities, and I packed up my new cello before going back to the party.
Vinyl and I hugged, and I thanked her profusely, “You know, you didn’t have to donate a hair to form the bowstring, I am more than capable of doing that myself.”
She smiled, “I know, but everypony else was doing something really neat to help make your cello, and I couldn’t do anything like that. So when it came time to get the bowstring, I figured that would be my contribution.”
“Well, thank you,” I said as we headed to the buffet, “It is a lovely gift.”
The rest of the evening went well. I went out and socialized with the other ponies in town, almost all of them complimented my cello playing abilities, and I did my best to act humble. Twilight forced me to make the acquaintance of her other friends, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy. They were all lovely ponies, and I actually hit it off with Fluttershy once she opened up. We both had an interest in music, and she actually managed to train her birds to sing on cue. I didn’t even know such a thing was possible, and she invited me to come over any time so she could demonstrate. However, the best moments of the evening (besides the aforementioned cello playing) were the ones I spent talking with Vinyl, even if the mare had made it her mission to get as drunk as possible tonight. Eventually, it was time to leave, and Vinyl and I made the walk back home.
“So…” I said, as we walked, trying to think of something clever to say.
“Yeah.” Vinyl responded, nodding her head to music only she could hear.
“Tonight was… rather fun.”
She kept her head, “It was, you… you even managed to open up and be kind of fun… like, normal fun, not Octavia fun. Keep it up and we might make a proper party pony of you yet.”
I laughed at the notion, “I think that might take a case of divine intervention.”
“You mean like one of the royal princesses sending you to Ponyville and telling me to be nice to you?”
Damn. I had walked right into that one. “Well, that isn’t what I meant, but… I suppose, yes.”
She snickered before staggering into a trash bin, “Sorry, couldn’t resist. I mean, you set me up pretty perfectly, and besides, I can joke about that now, right?”
Vinyl turned to look at me, clearly waiting for a response. I sighed, “Yes, I suppose you can joke about it in private, just don’t go around telling ponies that Princess Celestia, Sovereign of Equestria and Bringer of Light asked you to be nice to me.”
“Deal,” she said, “Although, does that apply retroactively or… what, cause I already told a few ponies. You know, before today.”
My left ear twitched, “Who exactly did you tell?”
“Oh… just Lyra, Bon Bon, Twilight, the rest of the bearers, Mayor Mare, and if Applejack knows then it is a safe bet that the rest of the Apple family knows, so just…” Half the town, I thought. “Ten, maybe twenty ponies tops, although Rarity is pretty gossipy. Still, Pinkie Pie is probably keeping everypony quiet.”
She then went on to explain the concept of a Pinkie promise, and the lengths the party pony would go to to enforce it. For some reason, I wasn’t particularly surprised. “So… she will just appear on the other side of a mirror if you even consider breaking one of her promises?” I asked.
Vinyl nodded, “Pretty much, yeah. Really though, she will just pop out of anything. It’s kind of funny once you get used to it.”
Why isn’t anypony else even phased by her complete and total disregard for the rules of physics? This mare does six impossible things before breakfast, and everypony just rolls their eyes and says “that’s just Pinkie Pie.” Still, she is the main reason I have any hope of creating a semi-competent orchestra in the time prescribed to me, so… I suppose I can’t look a gift horse in the mouth (Yes, that phrase has horrible connotations, but let’s not dwell on them).
We walked back into our house, and Vinyl stumbled onto the couch, “Tonight was fun Tavi, let’s do it again some time.”
I did my best to smile while fishing around the closet for a blanket, “While I agree with the sentiment, I do hope Rarity’s boutique doesn’t have too many more grand reopenings.” Either the copious amounts of alcohol she had imbibed throughout the evening had just hit her, or I didn’t notice how drunk she was for a majority of the night. Probably the latter.
“Oh yeah, that would be… would be bad… Still, let’s go drinking tomorrow, it will be fun,” she said as I threw the blanket over her, “Have you been to Berry’s Bar yet? It is amazing, has all the best alcohol in it.”
“Yes Vinyl, I have been. You took me there last week, remember?”
She paused for a second before nodding her head, “Oh yeah, you got super drunk that night. You were like… crazy, ya know?”
I nodded. “Good night Vinyl, I will talk to you in the morning,” I said as I tucked her in. Before I could react, the mare shot up and wrapped her hooves around my neck. She drew my lips close to hers, and… we kissed. Two separate and competing thoughts race through my mind simultaneously. The first one was filled with questions like: What is she doing? How should I respond? Won’t this mess up the dynamic of our friendship? And, what in Equestria am I going to do about this tomorrow? The other line of thought was focused less on distinct words, and more of a bubbly melty feeling. As much as it shames me to say it, the second line of thought won out, and I leaned in to the kiss that was all warm and tingly. My eyes closed, and for a few seconds, everything was supercopasetic, to use Vinyl’s phrasing. Then, the kiss ended and reality reasserted itself. There was no way this could end well, I thought as I walked upstairs, yawning. But who knows, maybe I will get lucky and Vinyl won’t remember drunkenly kissing me. After all, everything else has worked out since I moved to this town.
To utilize the more common parlance, tomorrow is going to absolutely suck.