//------------------------------// // Closing Scarlet Eyes // Story: Through Scarlet Eyes // by FaleYur //------------------------------// Vinyl’s sense of foreboding doom skirted around the edges of her thoughts as she walked beside Frederick past the dwindling crowds spilling throughout the town. Doubts of the pianist’s plan whispered in her ears, and fear of encountering the pony that she had been avoiding for weeks started to break down the walls of her confidence. The effect of these however, was slightly put down by the amusing sight of a very disgruntled, very tired pony picking bits of cake out of his mane, and peeling colourful streamers off of his fur. Vinyl couldn’t help but feel a little better when Frederick dug a hoof into his dishevelled mane-do, and pulled from within it a party horn, which promptly unrolled and blew in his face automatically. He grumbled and threw the party favour onto the concrete, squishing it beneath his hoof as he walked over it. It gave a last half-hearted whistle before flopping down dramatically, and unrolling limply. Pinkie sure knew how to make a racket. Regardless, Vinyl was still very aware of her unkempt appearance, her foggy mind, and most of all, her lack of tinted glasses. Everywhere she looked, the colours seemed too bright, and the setting sun glinting orange off the new, thin blanket of snow, was blinding. One day. She couldn’t even go one day without her stupid shades. Vinyl kept trying to turn away when ponies passed them, or covering her face when passersby shot the musicians looks. She had had enough experience with ponies making comments about her red eyes, none of them good. The ones that stood out the most in her mind were freak, vampire, and terminator. Vinyl scowled at the bench they were passing with barely supressed fury. The only pony who had ever complimented her on her eyes was Octavia, who would now probably try to claw them out as soon as Vinyl walked over the threshold of her flat. “Can I ask you a question Vinyl?” Vinyl squinted her eyelids shut, trying to force the memory back to whatever recess it had come from. It was useless. Octavia’s words hammered through her consciousness, beating her self-confidence into submission. “Sure. Wait, umm… what about?” “Why do you even wear those glasses?” “…” “It just seems a shame Vinyl. You hide those eyes away from everypony, they don’t even know what they’re missing!” “I’d prefer to keep it that way.” *sigh* “I know you don’t think so, but they’re beautiful. They’re one of the many things that makes you… well, you. And I love them. Your scarlet eyes…” “Vinyl?” The unicorn jumped at the sudden question, as her and Octavia’s conversation from long ago dissipated with a taunt. Frederick looked concerned. “Are you okay? You kind of stopped walking, and just stood there and- wait, are you crying?” Vinyl sniffled, and cast her gaze to the powdering of snow, quickly turning into wet slush under the warmth of her hooves. White on white. She hardly noticed when her vision started clouding up, teardrops pockmarking the tracked snowfall below. She felt a sturdy hoof around her shoulders start to pull her forwards, and she stumbled after it, crumpling onto the directed bench, all dignity forgotten. Vinyl buried her head in her hooves and cried, silent tears leaving chilled tracks down her cheeks, any words of thank you lost in the knot that was now her throat. She sat there for a while, Octavia’s praises ringing in her ears, mocking her for her stupidity. Lyra was right. The only mare who actually understood her for who she was and still loved her was slipping through her hooves. Because Vinyl had been thoughtless to anything but Octavia’s immediate safety. Thoughtless to her feelings. Vinyl stopped snivelling. Moving her hooves a little to the side, she could see past them, gazing at the snow. A thought occurred to her. Octavia really was the only one who saw her for who she was. Really the only pony who had ever truly loved her. Dropping her hooves into her lap and straightening up, she realized that she could never let Octavia get away. Vinyl needed her. And right now, Octavia needed Vinyl. Ignoring Frederick’s surprised exclamation, Vinyl jumped up, and started walking determinedly in the direction of Octavia’s home. She couldn’t sit here crying like a filly, while Octavia was in a room all by herself, needing somepony to help her. And what better pony to help her, thought Vinyl, than the one who understands her. After all, that realization went both ways. *** If knocking on Bonbon’s door earlier had been tough, knocking on Octavia’s was torture. Again and again, Vinyl raised her hoof to the door, only to think of one more flaw in her plan, and bring it back down again. Her previous confidence had all but deserted her. It didn’t help that Frederick was standing impatiently behind her, tapping his hoof and letting out a disappointed sigh every time Vinyl’s courage failed her. Vinyl closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She had to think about helping Octavia, about healing her, about holding her, about- Knock knock knock. Vinyl’s eyes shot open, and seeing that both her front hooves were rooted to the ground, cast a shocked look over her shoulder at Frederick. He was retracting his hoof from over her shoulder, and was wearing an expression that could only be characterized as smug. Vinyl closed her eyes and counted, five seconds, waiting for the creak of the door, and the inevitable explosion. Ten seconds… twenty seconds… Vinyl stopped counting around two minutes. Squinting her eyes open, she beheld the stagnant door with a hopeful glare. She shrugged at Frederick, who looked just as confused, and a little exasperated. The DJ felt her confidence returning. She cleared her throat, and knocked again, this time adding a, “Tavi?” immediately, she bit her lip. Was she still allowed to call her that? Would the cellist be offended? She quickly corrected herself. “Octavia? It’s Vinyl. I just, um, wanted to talk for a bit. If you’re there, could you please open the door?” she gulped and continued. “I know I was stupid, and you have every right to yell at me, or hit me, or… or hate me. But please could you answer me? Please give me something to work with. Anything.” She pleaded, whispering the last word miserably. When she waited in front of the door for another couple minutes without a response, Vinyl started to get irritated. What she did was almost inexcusable! She deserved to get yelled at! Why was Octavia giving her the silent treatment? Well it would be hard for Octavia to ignore her when she was right in front of her. Vinyl reached underneath the doormat and velcroed open a small section on its underside with her magic. Retrieving the spare key, she ignored Frederick’s protests and slid the key into the lock. Huh. As soon as she had inserted the key, she noticed something was wrong. Without turning it, Vinyl withdrew the key, and placed an apprehensive hoof on the handle. She rotated it, and the latch clicked open. It had been unlocked the whole time. Grumbling, Vinyl returned the key to its hiding place, and swung the door open, half expecting Octavia to be on the other side. Instead, she gazed upon a dusty entrance hall, illuminated only by the stream of light from the open doorway, and the slits from the drawn shades. She took a step inside, and smelled the unmistakable musk of alcohol and stale air. She stopped short, turning on the light. Frederick mumbled confusedly, “But it was locked…” behind her, shutting the door. A stifling silence fell over the flat. Vinyl strained her ears, struggling against the quiet, picking out the occasional creak of floorboards underneath her hooves as she moved around the house she knew so well. She made her way through the vacant rooms with a rising sense of unease. Shouldn’t she be hearing sobs, huffing, yells, something besides her own shaky breathing and Frederick moving around in the kitchen? She entered the living room, taking in the small pile of tissues that carpeted the floor adjacent to the couch concernedly. Giving the sofa a wide berth, Vinyl padded over to the mantle, where previously pictures of Octavia’s family and Vinyl stood. With a sinking feeling of dread, she noticed that the pictures containing herself were gone, leaving impressions in the dust that had settled over the mantle Tears at the back of her eyes, Vinyl bolted out of the room, stirring the layer of Kleenex in her wake and almost running flat into the bedroom door. Vinyl froze. How many times had she and Octavia stumbled giggling through this door, only to flop down lazily onto the bed? How many times had she woken up in this room, contentedly watching sunbeams drift overtop the form of the sleeping cellist? She didn’t feel like counting. Tentatively, she surrounded the doorknob in a white haze, and twisted, opening the door just a fraction. “Octavia?” When she received no reply, she swung the door open, letting it crash against the wall unintentionally. The sound shattered the silence like glass. “O-Octavia...?” The words tore their way out of Vinyl’s strangled throat with a sob as she looked into the room. Drawn by the crash of the door, Frederick came running from inside the living room with a frantic yelp. “Are you okay? What’s going- Holy Celestia.” They stood in the doorway, basking in the dancing candlelight, looking into the darkened room at the form of the cellist splayed out on top of the bed. Her charcoal mane fanned out over the pillow, creating a halo that vividly contrasted the white of the pillowcase, framing her slack face gaping up at the slowly revolving fan. The flickering candles on the dresser swayed, buffetted by the air being blown about the room. They sent dark, reaching shadows over the grey mare's features, reflecting fleetingly off of a small bottle in her outstretched hoof. "Tavi?" Vinyl barely even noticed Frederick whimpering quietly beside her. Blank, numb shock settled over her thoughts, filling her mind with the image of Octavia lying across her bed, unmoving. She took quavering steps into the room until she was standing overtop of the cellist's inert form. Tears burned thier way out of her eyes and slid down her face, dripping off of her chin and dotting the grey fur beneath. Vinyl reached out and gently shook her marefriend's shoulder. "Octy... you... I... don't..." Obviously Octavia was tired from the whole ordeal, and that was why she was sleeping. But then, why couldn't she wake up? "Octavia." Vinyl whispered a little louder, her voice cracking. "Please... w-... up." Vinyl shook her harder, and the cellist's head lolled limply on her shoulders, now barely visible through her tears. The bottle in her hoof rolled off of the bed and burst open on the ground, sending brightly coloured pills scattering over the floor. "OCTAVIA!" Vinyl screamed suddenly, collapsing into sobs over the grey mare. "No! NONONONO please Octy p-please... don't leave... not like this... I'M SORRY! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, n-no. Don't go... come-come back... come back..." Vinyl reached over, and pulled Octavia's hoof into both of her own, clasping it to her chest. "You can't! No, NO, y-you wouldn't... YOU WOULDN'T TAVI! Just-just w-wake up... talk to me, yell at me, HIT ME! JUST WAKE UP!" Vinyl shook her head violently, flinging hot tears everywhere, gasping and sobbing. "I'LL DO ANYTHING! Just don't be gone... d-don't leave me here Tavi... Please... please... please..." she felt a pair of hooves wrap around her waist and begin to pull her away from the bed. She fought and kicked, holding onto Octavia's hoof like it was a lifeline. "DON'T TAKE HER! YOU CAN'T TAKE HER AWAY, SHE'S MINE!" Vinyl shrieked, writhing in Frederick's grip. "I'M HERS, SHES MINE! I-I'm hers, she n-needs me-me..." Vinyl went limp, releasing Octavia's hoof and curling into a ball on the carpet. "S-she ne-eds me... I need h-her... I... h-help... can help..." Curled on the floor, Vinyl caught a glimpse of paper sticking out from under the bedpost. With a trembling hoof, she reached out and grabbed it, rolling over and sitting up to look at it properly. Vinyl's lip trembled. Silent tears ran down her face in abandon, landing on the picture and blurring the colours, leaving unsightly splotches on the photo. "Are you going to open your present or not?" "Aww, Octy, you really didn't have to get me anything... but I'm not gonna say 'No' to a perfectly good gift!" "Umm... I guess you could look at it that way..." "..." "..." "Is this lingerie?" "Mm-hmm..." "..." "..." "Octy..." "Yes Vinyl?" "Why are we not in the bed yet?" *Giggle* Staring at the picture, Vinyl vaguely remembered it falling away from the packaging as she freed the clothing from the paper, twisting downwards and resting underneath the bed. A faint blush played across her muzzle as she remembered her excuse for losing the picture in the first place. "Well we were a little busy..." She almost smiled at the thought, before realizing. I'll never have that again. Gritting her teeth, Vinyl shakily got to her hooves, holding the picture in the soft glow of her magic. She stumbled to the door-frame, looking back one more time at Octavia. She really could have been asleep. Frederick followed silently as the DJ wove her way back through the house to the front door. Vinyl's chest hurt, the aching throbbing pain of heartbreak and loss. Fresh tears cut their way through previous trails in her fur as Vinyl opened the door and stepped outside. The vibrant glow of the setting sun painted the cul-de-sac deep shades of orange, reflecting painfully off of the snow. Vinyl looked at the picture held aloft in a white haze, the sun's rays glowing through the damp areas on the paper like star-points. Vinyl sat down on the front step of Octavia's house and cried. Cried for her loss, her stupidity, and most of all for her cellist. She couldn't look at the picture, she couldn't think about her love. For the longest time, she couldn't do anything. And it wasn't until long after the sun had set that the exhaustion and the tears dragged her eyelids shut. *** The EMT's found her there in the morning, a gutted, heartbroken mare curled up on the stairs, clutching her photo to her chest like it was a newborn filly, whimpering and crying out in her sleep. Vinyl lay there, woken by Celestia's rising sun, and the clattering of a stretcher with a single occupant being pushed down the steps. She rose, hours after the frantic ambulance ponies had given up trying to help her and left her there, while they escorted the cellist to the hospital. Frederick was gone as well, though Vinyl didn't know, or particularly care where to. She made her way through the house again, entering the bedroom and sitting down on the crumpled sheets. Her eyes landed on the pills scattered on the carpet. No thoughts passed through her tired, broken mind as she picked them up slowly, one by one, and swallowed them until the floor was spotless. Vinyl Scratch lay down on the bed, relaxed, and breathing in the faint smell of lilacs that seemed to accompany Octavia wherever she went. She placed her picture on the dresser beside the burnt out stubs of the candle-wicks, then lay back, sinking into the sheets. She stared up at the revolving fan, eyelids drooping once more. She heard a giggle, the pure, familiar, untainted laugh of a mare in love, before she closed her eyes, and joined the blackness. She smiled sleepily. Octavia was waiting.