• Published 11th Oct 2014
  • 3,702 Views, 302 Comments

Music to His Ears - Lady Froey



Vinyl Scratch struggles with their relationship, identity, past, music and coping with the effects of their actions on others.

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Chapter 4 - One Step Forward, Two Back

The campus and halls of Ponyville High School were filled with a diverse body of students, with the occasional instructor around to be sure ponies stayed out of trouble. It was lunch hour, and Vinyl was at her locker grabbing books for her next class period. The hallway was deserted, so she hummed to herself as she fished through dog-eared books on intermediate magic theory, algebra, and musical composition. She didn't notice the light beige earth pony approaching until the mare was right beside her.

“Vinyl, we need to talk,” Bon Bon said. Vinyl jerked in surprise, then pulled her headphones off and let them slide down her neck.

“Sure, Bon Bon. Something up?”

Bon Bon opened her mouth, but cut herself off immediately. She tried again, but kept stumbling over her words as she tried to find the right way to tell Vinyl…

“Sweetie, I don’t think this is working. I’m breaking up with you.”

Vinyl blinked a few times in stunned silence. Then her nervous smile fell, and her whole body seemed to wilt.

“I don’t understand. I thought you liked me?” she said, her ears drooping.

“Vinyl…” Bon Bon said, unable to meet her eyes. “You’re a sweet mare, but compared to others I’ve gone out with, you just seem… different.”

“What? How?” How could Bon Bon see her as different?

“You don’t like going to the places I do. I wanted to take you to the spa and the local boutique, and you just weren’t interested.”

“But I did take you out on dates. We went all sorts of places!”

“I don’t think a fast food restaurant is somewhere I would take someone on a date, Vinyl,” Bon Bon sighed. “There was also that dress I bought you—which you never wore.”

“I just don’t wear dresses often, Bon Bon. It’s not my thing.” Vinyl caught herself. “B-but I could give it a try. We could do it today, right after school.” She forced herself to smile, knowing in the pit of her stomach that it was useless, but still hoping all the same.

Bon Bon looked back up at Vinyl, knowing she left a mare heartbroken. “Look, honeydrop, I’m sorry. I’m calling it off.”

There was a short pause, and Vinyl knew this really was the end for the two mares.

“I have to go.” And with that, Bon Bon walked down the hall and out of Vinyl’s life.

Vinyl stood there in silence, still not sure what had just happened. Where had she gone wrong? More importantly, why was she seen as different?


Vinyl's eyes fluttered open. With a groan, he rolled onto his side and tried to bury himself in the covers, but it was no use. Those nagging memories weren't letting him go back to sleep, and he finally gave up with a sigh, looking over at his bedside clock. 7:00 AM. Still too early, but with further sleep out of the question, he got out of bed to try to at least get the thoughts out of his mind.

Walking into the bathroom, he stepped into the shower and turned on the water. He let the stream of hot water soak into his coat and mane, and steam quickly filled up the bathroom.

A familiar figure walked in, her outline and colors blurred by the foggy glass. Octavia opened the door to the shower stall.

“Mind if I join?” she said, looking at Vinyl with a smile. Her gaze traveled over his drenched mane and coat, glistening with water from the shower.

“Not at all,” he replied, smiling back and moving over to give Octavia space. The shower had more than enough room for them both. Octavia stepped in with a purr, sensually licking the base of Vinyl's neck—and immediately gagging. "I... did not realize you had already soaped there," she explained when Vinyl turned around.

"Aww, poor baby," Vinyl crooned. "Here, my lips are clean..."

While the bad memories were still nagging at the back of his mind, he knew Octavia still loved him for who he was, and that was all he needed. Yesterday, things had gone better than expected, and he hoped today would be just as good.


With morning hygiene out of the way, Octavia stood by the stove, letting pans heat on the stove in preparation for breakfast. Vinyl sat at the kitchen table, opening the folder he’d received from Derpy last night.

“Are you going to call that clinic today?” Octavia asked, walking over to the fridge.

“I think so. It’s the only way we can move forward with my transition, right?”

Octavia nodded as she grabbed a carton of eggs from the fridge and walked back over to the stove. “Let me make you breakfast before you go anywhere, at least. I can’t have you living off of bagels every morning.” She opened the eggs and cracked a few into one of the pans to fry.

“Thanks.” Vinyl pulled a number out of his folder. “I’m going to make that call real quick.”

“All right.”

Vinyl got up from the table, trotted over to the phone, and dialed. After a few rings, someone picked up on the other end.

“Downtown Manehattan Clinic. How may I help you?”

“Hello, I want to make an appointment.”

"Okay, sir, let me just check our openings..." Vinyl tapped his hoof as he heard papers rustling on the other end. "I've got 10 AM open today with Doctor Aid, if you can hurry. Otherwise it'll have to be later in the week."

“10AM sounds great.”

“What can I put this appointment down for?”

“Um…” Vinyl knew exactly what he wanted, but at the same time he couldn’t form the words, so he tried the first thing that came to mind. “Consultation?”

“Can I get a name, please?”

“Vinyl.”

“Okay, we’ll see you soon, Vinyl. Thank you for calling.”

Hanging up the phone, Vinyl let out a sigh of relief and sat back down at the table. Octavia placed a plate of eggs and veggies in front of him before sitting down with a plate of her own.

“Got an appointment?” she asked as she dug into her eggs, eating quickly so they wouldn’t get any colder.

“Yeah. It’s at ten, so I’ll have to leave soon.” Vinyl levitated his fork over to cut off a piece of egg, and took a bite.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Octavia said, giving him a worried glance over the morning newspaper she had idly read over while waiting for him to join her at the table.

“I think I will be fine. I’ll just visit the clinic, sign some forms, and they get me on what I need, right? Easy squeezy,” Vinyl said, putting on his jacket and making sure he had what he needed.

“Let’s hope so.” Octavia masked her discomfort with a smile. While she knew she should be happy for him, she couldn’t help but feel things were starting to move too quickly for her.

Vinyl levitated his plate and shoveled its remaining contents into his mouth. Before heading out for his appointment, he walked back to the kitchen and gave Octavia a kiss. She playfully made a face at the lingering taste of his food, a gesture that reminded them both of earlier, easier times, and he chuckled.

“I’ll be back soon, hon.”

“Good luck.”


Vinyl left the apartment building and walked down the streets of Manehattan, listening to another mixtape on his cassette player to cut out the noise of the city.

Since yesterday afternoon, he had tried his hardest to hold off for Octavia’s sake, but his nerves wouldn’t take any more. He finally had to cave in, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes to withdraw one. He felt a bit guilty lighting up, since he promised her he would quit, but no matter how much he wanted to stop, his cravings demanded another.

After a few blocks, Vinyl reached the clinic. On the outside, it was a pretty average brick building with a large glass window and a wooden door. A sign over the entrance read “DOWNTOWN MANEHATTAN CLINIC” in large block letters.

Taking his headphones off, he crushed out his cigarette on the sidewalk, then turned the knob on the door. It had a bit of resistance to it, clearly showing the age of the clinic, it opened up to a small waiting room. Like other doctor’s offices he had been to in the past, it was very plain and quiet, a welcome change to the chaos outside that was Manehattan.

Vinyl walked up to the check-in window at the back of the waiting room, passing several ponies waiting for their appointments. Vinyl tapped the glass window with his hoof, and it immediately slid open.

“Name and appointment,” the mare behind it said, her voice unpleasantly nasal.

“Vinyl Scratch for Doctor Aid at 10AM,” Vinyl said as the receptionist looked over her notes.

“Did you come in for anything specific?”

“Just this.” He passed the forms he’d received from Derpy and filled out last night across the counter. The receptionist took them and looked over them, occasionally taking quick glances at him as she put them into a folder. Vinyl took a step back, uncertain of how he was supposed to feel. That look she kept giving him almost seemed critical.

“The Doctor will be out for you shortly, then,” she finally said, closing the window in his face.

“Thanks?” Vinyl turned around and took the nearest seat that was not occupied.


“Vinyl Scratch,” a nasal voice called. Vinyl had been waiting for an hour while other ponies had come, been called, and gone, and he eagerly got up to approach the pale blue earth pony nurse.

“This way, please,” she said and he followed her to a scale.

“We will need to do a quick check-up. Please stand here.” She pointed to the scale and he stepped onto it, watching while the nurse adjusted the counterweights.

The nurse hmmed to herself, scribbling on her notepad.

"Sit there, please." Vinyl complied and she wrapped a band around his foreleg, pumping it tighter and tighter until he winced. "Oh, don't be such a baby," she chided, then smiled as though it were a friendly little joke. She released the pressure and he rubbed his leg.

“Follow me, please.” The nurse walked Vinyl over to the doctor’s office and ushered him into a seat.

Is this a caregiver’s office or an assembly line? he thought as he sat down.

“The doctor will be with you shortly.” She left Vinyl alone in the office, and he looked around the room while he waited. It was just as plain as the waiting room, only in a tighter space with no windows. Fifteen agonizingly dull minutes ticked by before the doctor walked in.

“Vinyl Scratch?” he said, his eyes fixed on his clipboard.

“Yes?” Vinyl replied, expecting a bit more of an introduction.

“Just making sure.” He began writing a few things down on a form and sat down at his desk. “Do you have approval from a psychologist?”

“Excuse me?” Vinyl was caught off-guard—the doctor didn’t even introduce himself before starting with the questions!

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said, finally looking up from his clipboard as though a case had been solved. “Well then, in that case, I will have to submit this paperwork and will get back to you within three to six months. It seems you are trying to present as male now, which will help your case, but honestly I’ve only dealt with patients going from stallion to mare and—”

“Excuse me!” Vinyl cut him off. “What do you mean, three to six months?”

“Three to six months until I can give you a prescription,” the doctor said, his tone slightly bitter.

“But I’ve known about this for at least a year!” Vinyl stood from his chair, raising his voice.

“If that’s true, why didn’t you come here earlier?” Vinyl shrunk back into his seat, feeling the weight of nearly half a year with nothing to show for it bearing down on him. The doctor sighed and shook his head.

"Look, it's not like it's my call. Rules are rules, and we have to rule out the possibility that this is just a phase, or you're in a manic state and don't really know what you're asking for, or any number of things." He finished writing and got up. “I’ll send you a call for your next appointment.” The doctor opened the exit door. “Until then, have a nice day, Miss Scratch.”

The reference hit him like a slap in the face. It was a simple comment, but to Vinyl it echoed throughout the room and everyone overheard it. Miss Scratch. He didn’t acknowledge the doctor as he got up, and remained silent on the way out of the clinic.


Vinyl took a longer route back to his apartment, the headphones in his ears playing a different tape while he smoked another cigarette to get his mind off the clinic.

He couldn’t believe it. Things had been going so well yesterday with Octavia, Derpy, Dinky, and even complete strangers regarding his identity. Today, however, a single pony made all of that feel meaningless. His visit to the clinic had gotten him nowhere. How much longer could he wait? He had hoped to make the next step today, but it felt like he’d been thrown two steps back instead.

Arriving at the apartment, Vinyl walked inside to find Octavia in the living room, continuing her book from last night. She marked her page and looked up, focusing on him.

“How did it go?”

“I don’t know...” Vinyl groaned.

“What?” A strained edge to his tone told Octavia that things must have gone poorly.

“I don’t know how much longer I can wait!” Vinyl fell onto Octavia and wrapped his hooves around her, pouring slow, painful sobs into her shoulder. She was surprised by his response, but allowed him to let out what he needed to, and gently brushed the back of Vinyl’s mane with her hoof to comfort him.

“We’ll get through this, Vinyl, and I will stick with you no matter what,” she said, holding him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Vinyl whimpered. He tried to restrain his tears, but that just seemed to encourage them.

“Don’t be. It’s okay for stallions to cry.” Octavia did her best to comfort him, but in the back of her mind, she wondered, Is this going to become a regular occurrence? It was only yesterday, she realized, that she’d first seen him cry, and this time was even worse. “Vinyl, what happened?”

“The doctor… h-he said I’d have to wait three, maybe six months for anything!” Despite his best efforts to hold back his sobs, Vinyl’s collapsed into a low wail. “Then! Then he called me Miss Scratch! Like everything I’m going through didn’t matter at all! That entire clinic didn’t like me.”

Octavia blinked in surprise. Patients like Vinyl might have been a rare occurrence, but even she knew he wouldn’t want to be referred to as Miss. “Maybe the doctor just didn’t know?”

“He knew, Octavia,” Vinyl groaned. “He had all the paperwork. He knew exactly.”

“Sorry… I just really don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t,” he said, keeping himself wrapped tightly around her. “Just hold me.”


An hour later, the two were still lying on the sofa, holding each other silently. Vinyl sat up with a yawn, rousing Octavia, who had nearly fallen asleep.

“Feeling better?” Octavia asked.

“Yeah.” Vinyl sighed, looking down at the ground. “Thank you, Tavi.”

“What for?” Octavia didn’t know what to be thanked for. She had just wanted to help support her partner.

“For putting up with me.”

“You have to put up with me too,” she said, giving Vinyl a gentle kiss. He smiled in return. The two remained next to each other while Octavia laid her head against him.

“We still have a good chunk of the afternoon. Do you want to head out?” Vinyl said.

Octavia blinked. “I thought you would want to stay home.”

“Nah, I think heading out and having a good time with you would take the stress off easier.”

Octavia smiled. “Well, in that case, we can go wherever you want.”

“How about a walk around the park?” Vinyl suggested, hoping she wouldn’t mind.

“Sounds perfect.” She got up from the sofa with him, and they headed out of the apartment together.


Vinyl and Octavia stayed close to each other as they walked to the park. While Vinyl focused only on what was ahead of him, Octavia picked up a familiar odor in his coat. You’ve been smoking again, she almost said. Given what he had been through already, however, she decided to not bother him about it today.

They arrived at the park in the middle of the afternoon. Compared to the rest of Manehattan, this place was peaceful, filled with the small talk of park attendees and birds chirping rather than the chaotic din of ponies yelling and loud carriages speeding past. The park itself contained luscious green grass and a variety of large trees and bushes. Stone-brick paths led to various sights and attractions. In the center of the park was a lake that brought everything together.

The two walked slowly, taking in the sights and sounds. As they crossed a patch of cool grass, Vinyl raised a hoof for a stop.

“Can we take a break from all this walking? It took us enough time just to get here.”

“Of course, why don’t we sit over there for a few minutes.” Octavia said, pointing her hoof to a bench. As they headed towards it, she saw Vinyl was breathing heavily, while she was only a little winded herself.

They both sat down on the bench, and Vinyl pulled out his pack of cigarettes to light up again. Octavia stayed close, and he did his best to keep the smoke out of her face.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep myself off of these for long,” he said, stretching himself out.

“It’s fine; I don’t like you smoking, but I know you are under a lot of stress.” Octavia leaned her head on his shoulder, but kept her eyes on the trees across the path. It wasn’t fine, not really, but she could only deal with so many things at once.

“I think I’m gonna do something a bit different for this record. The past stuff is all the same. Too aggressive.” Vinyl sucked in a deep draft of nicotine smoke, and let it back out in a thick, steady stream. “Being here with you... it’s soothing. I want to make something that keeps me relaxed and feeling at peace.”

“Do you think it’s best to upset your bosses? They already don’t know about this transition of yours.” Octavia supported Vinyl making the music he wanted, but at the same time, his idea was concerning. “Derpy told you exactly what to produce. I don’t think it’s a good idea to upset her, or your bosses.”

“She did, but for a while, I want to make music for myself rather than my label.”

“Maybe do something on the side? I would like to perform more complex pieces on cello by myself, but I can’t go against my superiors when performing.” Octavia sighed. “Both of us, as musicians, need to show our true feelings in our music, but in our careers, we unfortunately have to cater to our bosses rather than ourselves.”

“I know.” Vinyl brushed the back of Octavia’s mane. In the back of his mind, he knew going against his manager and record execs was a bad idea, but at the same time, he knew he’d lost his passion for club music years ago. Sometimes, it felt like the paychecks were the only thing keeping him producing. More important than the paychecks, though, was the thought of Octavia without a roof over her head.

Then again, what good is comfort if we're not happy? What good are careers if we're not following our dreams? One day, we'll be making music for ourselves, not following anyone else's orders.

Author's Note:

Special thanks to editors Madeline L-Equine and Proper Noun for helping with this chapter.