Melody
Four mares and a stallion sat in a bar, and while it may have sounded like the beginning of a joke, Octavia Melody and her best friend Beauty Brass did not find their situation at all funny. Berry Punch, the lavender earth pony who had lead the Canterlot mares to the bar, had her face flat against the table after having passed out from drinking too much whiskey too fast.
Colgate, who sat opposite of Beauty, looked rather disappointed, with her head upon her hoof while leaning on the same table. Meanwhile, the only stallion in attendance, Blind Charge, sat there stoically trying to ignore the passed out pony, sipping his glass of milk occasionally. Somewhere in the bar, a clock ticked to signal the seconds passing as swiftly as a heavy cart in a mud hole, with the tension just as thick.
“So… that was… interesting,” Octavia tried to break the ice, but looked down at her refilled cup of warm coffee when the ice remained solid. Perhaps (and this was a wild guess on the upper class mare’s part), they were embarrassed by their friend’s conduct? Or perhaps they sent her that body language as a way to hide darker motives.
Gaining nothing from trying to let blood from a stone, she noticed that Beauty Brass was looking out of the window while nursing her sarsaparilla. Beyond the glass, Octavia could see that the streets had come alive as ponies moved to and fro upon the cobbles and around the buildings. Eventually, they would likely lose the privacy of having the building all to themselves, especially because it was a Friday.
Not that it really mattered; the odds were good that there would be at least one good samaritan among the bunch if Vinyl’s friends tried anything funny. At least she hoped so, considering they all probably knew each other in this hick town. She turned her head back to the group to find that Quick Fix had returned with a cup of coffee. The tan unicorn tried to waft the smell over to the unconscious mare, but there was nothing for it.
Colgate let out a deep sigh at the sight, catching Octavia’s attention. “I think I can speak on behalf of all of us when I say that we’re sorry for this,” she spoke.
Octavia blinked slowly and replied, “It’s all right. I have seen Vinyl do and say much worse when she comes home blind drunk.”
“It’s not that simple,” Quick sighed while taking her seat. The coffee stayed by the purple one’s muzzle, but she had obviously given up the ghost on rousing the drunk. “Vinyl tends to drink because it’s part of her job as a DJ. You know: networking and being a social butterfly and all?”
“Yes,” Octavia replied deadpan. “She has turned up with some interesting… companions… over the time that I have known her. I had figured that was the case.”
“Yeah, well, Berry is completely different from Vinyl. Sure, they both drink together, but Vee drinks to be social. Berry drinks to… forget,” Colgate elaborated. “Well, you see… she was the fifth foal born into the family and her parents are always busy, so she never got as much attention as other foals would.”
“Are you sure you should be telling us this?” Beauty said quietly after a sip of her drink. “We’re not exactly friends and this seems to be rather personal.”
“Probably not, but Colgate loves to gossip,” the quiet stallion spoke with a pointed glare at the blue mare.
“Don’t give me that. Berry is determined to befriend them and she would have blabbed about it during some drunken rant or another. I’m just being succinct,” she said.
“And a bit of a gossipy dam, but you’re going to continue anyway,” Quick Fix sighed, picking up a glass of water with her magic.
“Dam right I am!” Colgate smiled, teeth sparkling brilliantly in the bar lights. There was a unanimous groan from all present over the pun. “So anyway, Berry is sort of known around here as the Town Drunk. She got her start at her job, taste testing her family’s product, and snuck some of the unsellable stuff every now and then, but eventually she started downing the harder liquors.”
“That was about the only thing she was given to do, since her older brothers and sisters had everything under control. Poor Berry then started doing more than was necessary to earn her own adoration, but… well… she became an alcoholic in the process. She devised new ways to get the wine to perfection and is great at what she does, don’t get me wrong… but there were consequences.”
“Pinchy…” the drunken mare mumbled in her sleep.
Octavia blinked at the sudden interruption and a gear slid neatly into place as she put two and two together. “Good heavens, you mean she…” but she couldn’t finish her sentence.
“Getting drunk during Heat Week wasn’t her brightest moment, for sure,” Quick Fix nodded while looking sympathetically at her out cold friend and her collection of bottles.
“Yeah…” Colgate continued. “Her parents all but disowned her when she couldn’t hide it anymore. They let her keep her job, but under strict supervision, and they, er, encouraged her to leave the house as soon as she could. If she was old enough to bear a foal, she was old enough to handle raising it on her own. Not that they’re cruel or anything, Tartarus no! It’s just that her mother left her family when she had her first foal, and she married the father. I guess she thought it would work the same for Berry but…” she paused, looking at the eyes on her at the table. “Right. Rambling. Sorry.”
“Her siblings though? Not quite so forgiving,” Quick Fix said. “They’ve not spoken outside of work in years and… well, it’s a little hard on her. Vinyl was a blessing for Berry when she rolled into town. She’d lend her ear and a shoulder and together they’d drink their problems away.”
“So… Vinyl being a borderline alcoholic is a… good thing?” Octavia questioned.
“Well… it’s good for Berry,” Colgate said.
There was an awkward silence and a pause, giving the cellist time to reflect. By and large, she had it good. She was born to nobility and was an only foal, so she didn’t have to contend with siblings for her parents’ time or affections… but that was because her mother was practically barren and she was a miracle in the first place. She had always been their little treasure, and they made sure she knew it when they had free time to spend with her. But how would they have reacted if she had come home with that sort of news? A small shiver ran down her spine just for contemplating it.
“So… um… can anyone tell me the real story behind the sunglasses already?” she spoke to break the silence.
“I suppose the best of us to do that is Blind Charge,” Quick Fix answered. “He’s the next junior member of our group, so it’s more fresh in his head.” To that, the stallion simply nodded his head. “But… he doesn’t like speaking to ponies he doesn’t know… so if you want to hear it, then I guess you need to contribute.”
“Why can’t either of you-”
“It’s been years and besides, Charger is the best storyteller of the four of us,” she interrupted with her reply.
Octavia bit her lip nervously at the proposition. On one hoof, she needed to know why in Tartarus breaking those stupid sunglasses caused the normally easy-going Vinyl Scratch to buck her in the face. But on the other hoof, she really did not want to be associated with those ponies any longer than was necessary. She seemed to be taking a long time to contemplate it though, since before she could reply, somepony spoke up.
“It’s okay if you’d rather not share,” the brown stallion said. He turned to look at his similarly-coloured friend and added “I’d rather not make her uncomfortable. I’m fine with sharing the story so she can be on her way. She is, after all, a noble pony. Must be already out of her element talking to us commoners.”
“Most of our ensemble is commoners, so it’s not that,” Beauty Brass quipped. An icy glare from the bow tie-clad mare made her shrink in her seat. “I uh… I think…”
Octavia sighed quietly and took another sip of her coffee and thought. While she did not want to really associate with them, she also did not want to come off as snobbish either. After all, unlike most noble mares, she was self-aware. “I’d rather get to know you first before telling you about my relationship with her.”
“Okay... Sure…” he replied slowly, not quite expecting such a reply, judging from his tone. “Where would you like me to start?”
“How you met Vinyl Scratch should suffice.”
“Right, meeting Vinyl,” he affirmed, putting a hoof to his chin for a second to reminisce. “I met Vee in university. It was the year before she left, but I was just starting there. It was one of those mixer parties at the beginning of term and I was a little shy and off to one corner, and she was the centre of the party before she came over and helped me get comfortable.”
“Let me guess,” Octavia interrupted, “She either dropped out, or was expelled later in the semester.” She smirked triumphantly.
“No, this was during her last year in the program she was taking. She majored in Sound Engineering and minored in Electrical Engineering, if I’ve got that right?” he said as he looked over at Colgate, who simply smiled and nodded in confirmation.
For once that evening, Octavia was actually speechless, and not just awkwardly silent. “She… Vinyl Scratch… A mare who once thought that tightrope walking across the street fifty feet up in the air was a great idea for an album cover… has… an education!?” She gawked in utter disbelief.
“Two master’s degrees,” he smiled. “But anyway, yeah. We met at the mixer and she showed me around the campus. I was rather… well, shy. I suppose it would have been much worse if I knew then what I did now, of course. We naturally got to talking music because of our cutie marks and I learned about her aspiring DJ career and she about how I wanted to be a music teacher.”
“Oh, you teach music!?” Beauty Brass interjected. “Not many pegasi are musically inclined, or at least make a career of it. Where do you teach?”
“Cloudsdale High, my old alma mater,” he said before taking another sip of his milk. “Great school, great students, great break room.” His friends broke out in quiet laughter, obviously at some sort of in-joke that Octavia was not privy to.
“Back on topic though, even then we didn’t really get close. I mean, Vinyl’s a very pretty mare and I’m an awkward colt, so I was a bit timid of overstepping my bounds. Then there is the fact that she can be a bit rude and obscene… and not to mention a little bit insane, especially when playing her ‘wubs’ as she calls them. But for better or worse, we slowly became friends. Especially…” he trailed off.
“Especially what?” Octavia inquired with a quirked eyebrow.
“Even back then she was a prodigious drinker. One night before crunch time for finals, she dragged me along to a party a local fraternity was having. It wasn’t my scene, but… well, I didn’t want her to go alone. I’m glad I went along that time though, because a particularly… um… forceful stallion tried to get lucky that night.”
As he spoke, the mood at the table turned from jovial to heavy within a heartbeat. Octavia could see where this was going, having heard first-hoof accounts of such parties while she was in college. Still, it was remarkable to her that they could be solemn.
“It uh… it started to turn violent after she rejected him,” he continued with no more than a second’s pause. “Vee can put up a fight, don’t misunderstand, but she was pretty damn drunk. By the time I found them outside, they were yelling and he was forcing her into a corner and going on about how he’d just take what he wanted. So, I trotted up to the bastard and knocked him out with a good kick before I got her out of there. Later, when she was sober, she thanked me and then proclaimed we’d be friends for life. And we have been ever since.”
He quietly picked up his drink and sipped it with a pall of silence hanging over the group, even as the rest of the bar started to fill up with other patrons. Octavia took another sip of her coffee and looked at him for a moment before deciding to speak. “That was very good of you. Most stallions I knew in college were either more like that vicious brute, or nebbish colts who preferred to ignore it happening.”
“It’s always the quiet ones who tend to have the most surprises up their sleeves,” Colgate nodded, probably trying to break the tension. “I can corroborate that one, too. Vinyl told me all about it and introduced me to him not too long after. He’s a bit of a dork, but he’s good for a fight in a pinch. It’s GREAT for business” She smiled.
“I don’t wear sleeves,” he said quietly after putting down his milk.
Octavia was far too unnerved by her grin to even ask, so instead she quietly took a sip of her coffee. “So..” she started, looking at Blind Charge. “Can I hear the story now?”
“Oh, right, sorry,” he apologized, looking upward from his drink with a blush on his face. “It was a while before she would answer my own sunglasses question. In fact, I was in my second-to-last semester and she had already graduated a couple years previously. We met at a bar in Canterlot to catch up and discuss the new season of pegasus racing when that seemed to inspire her to tell me the story I’m about to tell you, and for good reason too.”
A couple of the friends raised their eyebrows at that last sentence. But Octavia did not really notice, since they were in the corners of her vision. The pegasus stallion had her full and undivided attention. “Really? Please, do go on,” she spoke.
“It was a fairly typical afternoon; just a couple of months after she got her first long-term gig at a club as a DJ...”
~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~
Built into the side of a mountain, Canterlot always afforded magnificent views of the surrounding countryside from just about anywhere in the city. Aside from the castle itself, the best view in the entire kingdom could be found at the Canterlot Aerodrome. Decorated in the city’s signature colour scheme of brilliant gold, subtle lavender and gorgeous alabaster, the amphitheatre proudly carried on the code of simple elegance that was the foundation of their society.
From any seat in the house, one could see the picturesque valley below, all the way out to a small village and beyond into the very depths of the Everfree Forest. On a clear day, some ponies claimed to see all the way to Fillydelphia, of all places! But the top VIP box had the most spectacular view by far, since it was where the princesses would watch their fleet of airships drift past during the annual armada parade.
Of course, Vinyl Scratch cared for none of that as she trotted down the slickened slate streets. The day was grey and slightly rainy, so there would be no commanding views, but that was fine since she was there for what occupied the rest of the stadium’s time: Pegasus racing! Though gambling was illegal everywhere but Las Pegasus, it did not mean that she could not make some discreet cash off the races. There was always a stallion or two willing to make a private bet and she would take them all to the cleaners!
Pushing open the statue-flanked gilded doors, a pony could almost swear that they had walked into the palace by mistake. Though the entrance hall was small in comparison to the rest of the building, it still had that stuck up better-than-you feeling that the nobility wallowed in like pigs in mud, but in the royal capital the same was true of every public building. That, plus the fact that she was technically a part of those high-nosed fart-sniffers meant that she paid little regard to the stunning mosaics in the marble-like floor, or the gold trim on ancient pegasus-styled columns if only because she was used to such decor.
A long line of turnstiles and booths blocked off the entrance from the rest of the building, most empty that day. A bored looking tan unicorn in one of the few open ticket booths regarded the white mare for a brief second before standing rigid as if stuck with a lightning spell. “Hello!” she chirped the instant she swapped personalities. “Welcome to Canterlot Downs Aerodrome! Entrance fee is thirty bits. Booth seats are an extra ten.”
Everything in this town has to be so bucking expensive, Vinyl complained as she hoofed over forty of her bits from her saddlebags.
“Thank you ma’am, here is your ticket!” the mare said after opening the register and pulling out a ticket for her. “You are in booth number three; just follow the signs. Also, half of your ticket price will be sent to a noteworthy charity at the end of the month. Please be advised that gambling on these races is strictly prohibited. Have a good day!”
Strictly prohibited, huh? Last time it was just ‘not allowed.’ I’d hate to be the poor sucker they caught doing it, Vinyl thought as she took her ticket in her red aura and trotted through the turnstile. I mean, it’s not like they actually go looking for it. Quickly pushing the thought out of her head, the young mare followed the signs down hallways and up stairs until finally she found herself in front of a door with a big gold-plated number three on it.
Opening the door, she stepped onto the soft, crimson carpet and surveyed her surroundings. A large glass window took up the entirety of the wall right in front of her to allow patrons to view the race away from the elements. A voice over the loudspeaker quickly tried to keep up with the events of the already in-progress race while ponies talked under it, some about wagers, others about the competitors. About two dozen padded seats filled the room with only about five or six of them occupied mostly by colts, but there was one mare on the far end.
She was a white unicorn like Vinyl herself, but what really struck her about the mare was her spiky two-tone purple mane that was swept back into a mohawk that ran all the way down the back of her neck. Giving a smirk at having found one of her sort of ponies in a sea of stuffy Canterlotians, she worked her way through the seats towards her. “Yo,” she said when she got close enough. “Anypony sitting here?”
“Nah, you’re free to it, kid,” the other mare replied, looking over to her with her bright, orange eyes.
At first, Vinyl had no idea what to say since the mare looked and sounded familiar, but she could not quite put her hoof on how. So, with a smile and a quick “thanks” she sat down on the cushion beside her. As she settled, she could not help but notice something balancing on the side of the chair. Though she could not be sure, it looked like a pair of purple-tinted sunglasses. But why would a pony be wearing shades on a day as grey and dark as this one was?
Looking between the enigmatic sunglasses and the pony beside her, Vinyl slowly played with and manipulated the pieces of the puzzle, which, considering her hangover from the previous night, was a pretty substantial feat. “Say...” she spoke after the first race. “Do you think you could wear those shades of yours? I think I’ve seen you somewhere before, miss.”
“Heh. No hint of subtlety, eh, DJ P0n3?” She spoke with a smirk, turning her head.
“Nope! I am tactless incarnate! I didn’t know my name was becoming a household thing though or else I would have charged more for my last gig.” Vinyl smiled.
“It’s tactlessness, actually. Oh, and if I were you, I’d trim that ego. I only knew you ‘cause I was at that club the night before last and caught your set. You know, for a techno filly, you sure got a way about you.”
“Ha. No kidding,” the DJ said after a short laugh. “So, how about it? The shades I mean.”
“Well, if you absolutely have to see them,” she said as she lifted the purple shades with her deep blue magic. Once they were lowered upon her face, she turned to the other mare and smirked. “So? What do you think?” She asked.
“I had a feeling that it was you, DJ Flare,” Vinyl grinned in victory. “I just wanted to be sure before I made a moron out of myself. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Nah, it’s fine. At least you weren’t all screaming and begging for an autograph and all that other junk,” she smiled before pulling off her shades and stretching in her chair.
“So... Wait. You said you caught my last set?”
“Mhm. Like I said; I might not be much of a techno filly, but you got a real talent for working the crowd. I haven’t seen a newbie get the joint jumping that way in a very long time. At least, not since I was a newbie,” Flare smiled with self-satisfaction. The younger DJ smiled and laughed at the joke, feeling as if she were talking to a member of the family and not the mare that inspired her lifestyle.
“You know, I’ve been thinking of getting some shades for my look as well,” Vinyl added after scratching at an itch just below her magenta eyes. “I wouldn’t pick a style to try to copy you, of course. I was thinking of maybe some ‘Mares in Black’ shades or those funky pointy ones from that Neighponese anime.”
Flare looked at her quietly for a moment, surveying her up and down as if sizing her up. The uncomfortable silence drifted and lasted through the next race before she spoke up. “Nope. I don’t see either of those styles suiting you, P0n3. In fact, the only kind of shades I see fitting that look of yours are mine.”
Before Vinyl could say another word, her world became tinted in purple at the blink of an eye. The shades hanging on the chair were gone and from what she could feel, she could only assume they were on her face. Flare’s smirk broadened into a grin as she regarded the mare once more, a glint in her orange eyes as if an idea had come to mind.
“Tell you what, filly,” Flare spoke, taking the shades back. “Let’s make the next race a little more... interesting.” Lowering her voice, she leaned in a bit and continued. “Wanna place a little bet on it?”
“Sure. I’m game,” Vinyl replied, leaning in close as well. “How much do you have to lose? I can go as high as three hundred.”
“Actually... I was thinking of something more... substantial.” Those once warm and inviting orange orbs had taken a sudden, mischievous twist as the mare’s smile grew into a Cheshire grin. “Bits are nice and all, but you’re just going to use them to buy some plop like food and microphones, so why not skip the middle mare and get right to the good stuff? Don’t you agree, P0n3?”
Vinyl pursed her lips and considered what Flare was proposing, though it did not take her very long for her to make up her mind. “That sounds even better. What did you have in mind?”
“Well...” She trailed off. “I was really taken by your speakers the other night. I doubt they’re stock, so you must have done something to them.”
“The only part that’s stock is the casing, so yeah.”
“That’s even better! If my pony wins, I want those speakers of yours.”
“What!?” Vinyl shouted with a gasp, causing the other occupants of the box to look at the mares as if they had interrupted a quiet meeting. “What!?” she repeated in a more hushed tone. “But I made those from scratch! There ain’t another pair of speakers like them in all of Equestria!”
“Well, that’s what I want if I win. You can ask me for anything of mine and I won’t hesitate to put it on to the table. I have a lot of plop up for the taking, P0n3. Or are you chicken?”
Vinyl’s face changed gears in less than a second. Her ears swiveled back and her brows furrowed as her grin faded into a flat look of sheer concentration. Flare looked back into her eyes, confidence burning in those orange orbs. “Okay,” the younger unicorn said after a moment. “If I have to put my speakers on the line, then you need to give up something important too: I’m thinking your shades.”
For her part, Flare did not even flinch for having been asked to put something so important on the betting table. Vinyl and every other fan of hers knew that she regarded those plastic lenses the same way a normal pony would a pet, or maybe even a newborn sibling. Instead, she looked the incredulous pony in the eyes, orange meeting magenta, before nodding her head and smiling. “All right, it’s a deal.” Extending their hooves, the two mares clopped them together in agreement, sealing the bet. “Just to show you how good of a sport I am, I will let you pick your pony first. Who do you like the most?”
On the wall beside them, as with every row of seats, there was a program of the day’s races and who would be participating. Despite the program being a little hard to decipher if one was not used to it, Vinyl found the next race and began scanning it for names. Suddenly, one jumped out at her, almost as if it were basking in the eternal radiance of the sun itself.
“I like Lightfoot the best. I bet you he will win outright,” she said, turning to face the older DJ.
“All righty then,” she replied before standing up and trotting over to the same board. Flare looked at it, considering, but was finished with her choice much faster than Vinyl. “I think Thunder Run will place at the very least.”
“Fine,” Vinyl replied, nodding her head. “If neither win or place though, then whoever comes in ahead is the winner, right?”
“Mhm! I was thinking the exact same thing, P0n3. Glad to see we’re on a similar wavelength,” she added with a small smile.
“Please, call me Vinyl.”
“Okay, Vinyl. Let’s shut up and enjoy the race, shall we?” The instant she stopped speaking, the starting horn for the next race sounded, bringing almost everypony’s attention towards the aerial track. Like most Pegasus races, the course was a giant ellipse flanked by clouds on both sides. Racers could reach breakneck speeds in the straightaways, only to have to turn very quickly because the Canterlot course had to keep within the mountain’s profile, or else the clouds would be blown away by the strong valley winds.
As the racers lined up at the starting gate, Vinyl sat on the edge of her seat with both anticipation and to see the entire track through the large window. Eight ponies flapped in mid-air impatiently as the gates shaped by clouds and operated by magic held them all back and at an equal position. One could feel the tension in the air begin to rise once more as the ponies stared straight ahead, gritting their teeth with determination.
“Fillies and gentlecolts,” the announcer boomed over the loudspeakers. “On your marks... Get set... GO!” With the ringing of another bell, the gates swung up in front of the racers, sending forth a cascade of technicolor hues into the sky from the starting line. Vinyl cried out in anguish as Thunder Run stole an early lead, easily the fastest flier since he came up to the first turn well before anypony else. Meanwhile, Lightfoot flew in the middle of the pack, but still far behind the other DJ’s pick.
“Aw come on, the race isn’t over yet,” Flare smirked, seeing her distress. “I think it might be closer than you think,” she added while gesturing to the track. In the time it took for Vinyl to fret and for Flare to speak, the rest of the pack had managed to catch up to Thunder, who had slowed significantly during the turn. At the same time, her pony breezed through the same turn and was almost up to par.
“It would seem that while Thunder is easily the fastest, he is absolutely crap at cornering,” Flare sighed, shaking her head before letting out a little laugh. “But that doesn’t mean he’s going to lose though. Your speakers will yet be mine, Vinyl.”
“We’ll just see about that. GO LIGHTFOOT!” Vinyl cheered, even as Thunder Run zoomed ahead of the pack once more on the second straightaway. While he was, indeed, the fastest pony of the pack, every lap or so, he would fall just a little bit back towards the rest of the pack. Lightfoot, meanwhile, took the corners sharply and moved more efficiently by flying right behind other ponies so he would not have to work as hard, keeping himself more in the middle of the pack for most of the twenty laps around the circuit. But then they came to the final lap.
Detaching himself from his usual methods, Lightfoot came out from behind his opponent with a tremendous burst of speed. She almost could not believe her eyes at how the one unremarkable pony in the race had blasted forth, going from seventh place to sixth, fifth, fourth, third and finally into position right behind Thunder Run at the final turn.
Vinyl stood on the edge of her seat, unable to believe her sheer luck at having picked such a pony. Going into the final turn, Thunder had to slow down or else he would have flown into one of the clouds, but with the other pony on his tail, he did not slow down enough. He took the turn wide, allowing the other pony to eke out in front of him. By the time he realized what was going on, it was all over.
“...And it’s Lightfoot by three pony lengths followed by Thunder Run in second and Cloudstomper in third!”
“WOO! BUCK YEAH, BABY!” Vinyl cheered, startling just about every pony in the booth with her. She stood on her hind legs with her forelegs pumping the air in victory. Only when she could hear the light laughter coming from Flare did she stop and look at her. Feeling a blush come upon her cheeks, she quickly took her seat. “Sorry,” she muttered softly, head down to hide her reddened cheeks.
“Not a problem. Congrats, kid,” she chuckled, grabbing her shades in her blue magic and placing them on Vinyl’s forehead just below her horn.
“Wait... These are really mine?” Vinyl asked as she pulled them down over her eyes, adding a purple tint to the world once more.
“Yep, they are all yours, Kiddo,” she smiled. “Actually... I’m kind of relieved that you won them, to be honest.”
“Huh? Why’s that, Flare?”
Her smile faded into a slight frown before she looked away slightly. “Well... The thing is that, being a DJ was never a ‘forever’ thing for me, nor can it be for anypony, really. It’s... It’s time that I moved on to bigger and better things, you hear? I just wanted to make sure that there would be a pony out there worthy of filling in the void, I guess. The only reason I put my shades up on the line is because... Well, I believe in you, DJ P0n3.”
“Wait... What? Flare... What in Equestria are you talking about?” Vinyl questioned.
“I’m leaving the music business, but I wanted somepony worth it to get my shades first,” she said.
“No! You can’t! I can’t... I can’t take these from you!” She put a hoof to her face to take the shade off, but Flare placed her own upon her leg and looked her sternly in the eye.
“I wanted this, Vinyl. Don’t you bucking dare try to change my mind, okay? Those shades are yours, fair and square. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got somewhere to be. See you around, kiddo, and good luck.” Placing a hoof on the top of her head, the former DJ ruffled Vinyl’s mane before trotting out of the booth. Vinyl got up and tried to run after her, but by the time she got out into the hall, the mare was long gone, never to be seen again.
~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~
“Pony plop!” Colgate cried out in frustration as soon as the story had ended, causing Blind Charge to shrink in his seat a little since the only buffer between him and the mare was an equally perplexed, though probably not as outraged pony.
“What kind of crock was that?” Quick Fix spoke, probably trying to mediate the situation. “Charger, were you or Vinyl drunk or something? Come on and admit it. There’s no way that could have happened. We all know Vinyl Scratch couldn't win a bet to save her life.” She struck her brown hoof on the table twice for emphasis.
“Hehehe, Crock-a-doodle-doo,” Berry Punch giggled, having awoken during the story, but still quite drunk.
“Y-you both know I don’t drink alcohol,” Blind Charge defended himself.
“Maybe, but was VINYL sauced?” Quick retorted.
“No! I remember I checked.”
“Well, I know I heard something completely different,” Colgate spoke with a little less volume and anger. “There were definitely no ninjas, or winning any sort of wager, I can tell you that much.”
“Same here, and I’ve known Vinyl the longest out of anypony here,” Quick Fix replied, taking a sip of her sarsaparilla.
Octavia, meanwhile, sat there and listened while the friends argued amongst themselves. Why would Vinyl Scratch tell them different versions of the same story? She looked over to her quiet companion, but all Beauty Brass did was shrug. The cellist took her hoof to her chin and tapped it gently, trying to figure out this enigma.
“Okay, okay!” Blind Charge shouted, ending the din that had earned them looks from the other bar patrons. “I still say the story I heard is more credible than the one Berry told, but all right. I am willing to admit that maybe I got it wrong. Who’d like to tell Octavia the REAL story?”
“Oooh, me, me, me!” Colgate said eagerly, raising her hoof. “I haven’t talked nearly enough tonight! And besides, my story has great gossip material and is slightly scandalous!” she said with an almost foal-like squeal. Quick Fix arched her eyebrows at her friend, but simply took another sip of her drink instead of saying anything. Octavia could tell there was something on her mind, but she had no idea what.
“Before I start, let’s make friends,” the blue pony continued while reaching her hoof across the table to shake Octavia’s. “The name’s Dr. Colgate Minuette, DMD.”
Octavia had already touched her hoof when she heard it. “D-de-entist!” she squeaked and quickly recoiled from the other mare. A blush quickly surfaced on her grey cheeks from her rather foalish outburst. However, the dentist did not look perturbed.
“That’s right! Best damned dentist in all of Ponyville! Speaking of, do you floss? I thought I saw a bit of alfalfa between your molars earlier. I know you probably see somepony up there in fancy old Canterlot, but I can offer you a discount if you want to put your teeth in friendly hooves!” she smiled, her teeth glimmering in the lights once again.
“I don’t think she wants to spend an hour both ways just to go to the doctor’s, Toothpaste,” the brown mare said snidely.
The revelation of the nickname’s origin destroyed any sense of comfort that Octavia had gained with the group since she first sat down. It was not that she was afraid of dentists or anything, that would be silly, it was just that they made her… uncomfortable. Even if she didn’t have a mask on and was nowhere near a drill, the cellist could not help but imagine the blue pony pulling one out from under the table and abruptly ask her to say ‘ahh’.
“Eh, I guess you’re right,” Colgate relented. “Don’t worry about it, Octavia. I’m not working so you’re in no danger. Heh. You’d be surprised how many adults are afraid of the dentist, but I get them all to come around... eventually.”
“I uh… okay,” Octavia spoke, wearing a calm facade. “I suppose you’re going to tell me the proper origin of the sunglasses now?”
“Hahah, she said ‘asses’,” Berry snickered to herself.
“Yuh-huh! It all started back when I met Vinyl. Like Charger here, we met at Uni in Canterlot, but we were both fresh mares in our first year,” Colgate started.
“Yes, but if what Mr. Blind Charge said is true, then she’d be in engineering and you in medical school,” Octavia said.
“Please, don’t call me ‘mister’. Mister is my father’s name,” the stallion spoke up. “Sorry for interrupting.”
“Not at all,” the blue pony shrugged. “Well, normally you’d be right, Octavia, but we took the same elective course in the first year and sat next to each other. I think it was business management since I wanted my own practice and Vinyl, naturally, wanted to be a free agent DJ not tied to a label and ‘dancing like a corporate breezie’ as she would put it.”
“That does sound like something odd she would say, yes,” the cellist nodded.
“So yeah, unlike Blind, we hit it off almost immediately. She was the energetic and fun friend I needed to help get through the grind and, on important tests, she’d even sit outside in support if she didn’t have a test herself. But most importantly, she wouldn’t let me give up. Even when I was stressed to the point of quitting. She helped me because she knew it was my passion, even if my talent is more about timekeeping than dentistry.”
Octavia has wondered what that hourglass was there for if she was a… dentist. It was a common cutie mark to have, the more she thought about it. But generally, those with them did not go on to such disparaged and challenging careers. Yet apparently that deluded and insane mare could take a stand, and wouldn’t quit on a friend. “I think I know what you mean,” she replied. “When Vinyl is around, she won’t let me talk down to others. Most of the time, she humbles me, even.”
“Mmm,” Quick Fix vocalized, earning her some looks. “Oh, uh… I can see why she would do that. I mean, living in Canterlot around all those high class ponies from a very young age? They tend to drink the Pony Aid a lot, if you know what I mean.”
“I… suppose I do,” Octavia answered. “So… can we continue on with this, please?”
“Only if you promise to come in for an appointment.”
“Colgate!” the more lucid friends yelled.
“I’m kidding! Sheesh! But yeah, sure, we can continue,” she spoke after she took a last sip of her drink and set the glass aside. “Like Charger, she didn’t tell me the story until some time after she graduated, but she hadn’t really situated herself in the club scene. She was still going from club to club trying to find her place, you know? But yeah, I know this story is true since she told it to me during a long study session before finals, so she couldn’t come in drunk.”
“As long as it doesn’t have ninjas, I am willing to believe you,” Octavia smirked.
“All righty then. So, it all started at this club called the Canter Trot, someplace downtown. They were having a competition to find a new in-house DJ since their old one was arrested for having a hundred pounds of Poison Joke in his bag while flying to Clopperdam…”
~*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*~
Music filled her ears in the inky void as her body closed off all her other senses in an attempt to calm the panicked beating of her heart. Never in her life had she felt so nervous and tense. Not even being caught by the principal of her high school that one time, after playing a harmless little prank involving a bake sale and a gallon of laxatives, made her feel as uncomfortable as right in that moment.
Just listen to the music, Scratch, she thought in the midst of her quiet meditation. Listen to it, relax, and forget all about your worries. Then, when you are calm and collected, focus on your set list and everything will be fine. The white mare soon felt her heart slow down into a soft, steady rhythm as she was carried away by the rock and roll sounds, a hoof subconsciously tapping to the beat.
Normally, nothing would get her nervous since she was too cool to let anything phase her... most of the time. But this time was different, because not only was she here with her rivals to put on a show, but they were being judged on their performance too. And, as much as it hurt to think so, many of the ponies she was competing with were good. Vinyl shook her head, messing up her mane further and kept her eyes welded shut, determined not to leave her zone again after fighting to get into it.
After calming herself once more, she opened her eyes, seeing her reflection staring back at her from a mirror in front of her. The backstage was dark and relatively silent with not a soul around. Sure, there were rooms where the competitors could sit, eat and relax in quiet, but that was never her scene. She had to be where the action was, and this was as close as she could get to the stage without being on it herself.
She furrowed her brow and ran a hoof through her mane until it was just the right mixture of control and chaos for her liking. The mare in the mirror smiled and nodded her head in approval. “Lookin’ good, mare. Lookin’ real good!” she spoke in self-approval. “Who’s gonna rock this joint tonight? Well, what a stupid question is that? I am, of course! I got the skills, I got the tracks, and I certainly got the stones, filly! Those posers out back can bite my soft, white flank.” A sharp snap filled the air under the music when she spanked her own posterior to determine that it was true to her claim.
However, as she looked at her flank in the mirror, she noticed a strobe of colour coming from the inky blackness behind her. Turning around, she approached it cautiously, walking on the tips of her hooves to make as little sound as possible, which was not hard considering the volume of the music and the fact that the bass line was pounding in her chest already. Looking up and down the backstage area for any pony that might catch her, Vinyl gently inched her muzzle out from behind the curtain.
Coloured lights swept over the room in front of her as a sea of dark, huddled masses gyrated and moved to the beat. Occasionally, colours would flash from glowsticks they wore, like the twinkling of stars in the dead of night. The smell of sweat and liquor filled her nostrils as whoops and cheers were crushed under hoof by the powerful rock ballad being played. Vinyl could feel her tail swing in time, almost wanting to jump into the fray and lose herself to the music in a hypnotic trance.
However, she shook her head and caught herself before it was too late. “Damn, that jerk is good,” she muttered darkly to herself as she looked up at the pony on stage. He wore dark tinted sunglasses all the time, and not just for his shows. Of all the DJs she had ever met, he was the only one to wear a suit and profess to be professional at all times... on stage, at least. Off set, he was a loose cannon with a temper to match. More than once, she had found herself going hoof to hoof with him, and not in a musical sense.
DJ $tereo had to be her biggest competition in the whole city. Not only were they both working and living in the same territory, but they also specialized in similar genres of music. In the music industry, that was like putting two hungry lions into the same cage with a dead gazelle between them. Taking hold of her senses and seething quietly, she pulled her head behind the curtain once more as she realized something important.
“Celestia damn that no good bucker! I was going to use that song in my set! Now I have to go over the whole damned thing again and think of something else! Buck you, $tereo. Buck you to Tartarus and back!” she cursed relatively quietly.
Vinyl quickly trotted back to the plain mirror leaning against the wall and looked deeply into her reflection. “Okay. Calm down, Scratch. Your headline song is out, so what else do you have in your box of records?” she asked as she tapped her hoof against the floor. Never before had she needed to think up a five track set on the fly, but something told her that if she wanted to be a success in the business, she needed to learn fast.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on her mental collection of records and songs, album covers filling her mind. Track after track floated across her mental eye, but none of them felt really right for the crowd she had experienced not more than a couple of moments before. The idea of improvising a list had occurred to her more than once that evening, and it was becoming a more attractive prospect by the minute. But she had never done an impromptu set before!
As she weighed the pros and cons in her head, she did not hear the quiet sounds of the metal stage door opening down the way, or the light sound of hoofsteps against the wall of sound on the other side of the curtains. Her mind began to ache as she juggled the conflict and visualized her albums all at once. However, she never expected a light tapping on her side.
Startled, she screamed into the air and let out a very uncool shriek before falling back to Equestria. Looking up, she saw an apologetic unicorn stallion holding a clipboard in his white aura and a blush on his cheeks behind the headset he wore. “Uh... DJ P0n3?” he asked cautiously.
“What is it!?” she demanded, a little more tensely than she meant to get across.
“Uh... Y-You’re you have five minutes until you’re on stage, ma’am. I’m sorry I disturbed you. Bye!” he answered, speaking quickly by the end before retreating through the door he came from. Picking herself off the floor and brushing the dust off of her coat, Vinyl gave the door a piercing glare, for having her moment interrupted.
“Buck it, I’ll just improvise,” she said to nopony before using her ruby-tinted magic to bring over her boxes of records and albums. To pass the time before her set, she decided to look through her tracks as she usually did to push thoughts of the competition out of her head and avoid the stress. As she did, she could almost hear each song as her hoof touched the jacket covers.
Just as she was getting into her happy place, the roar of ponies startled her out of her revery. “Fillies and gentlecolts, that was DJ $tereo!” the MC yelled over the crowd on the loudspeakers. With one final cheer, the curtains parted before the grey unicorn colt as he sauntered backstage. “All right, but for serious now, I need you ponies to cheer loudly so we can see how many decibels you make. Give it up!”
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t DJ P0n3 sniffing through the trash. Oh wait, those are your records,” the rival DJ sneered as he regarded the mare. “If you’re not going to join the current century, you might as well go home and leave this up to the STALLIONS, little filly.” He pulled down his shades, green eyes half poking out from behind them. “Face it; after my set, the only cheering those ponies are going to do for you is if you do a striptease.”
Vinyl would have loved nothing better than to jump him and show that smug face of his the underside of her hoof. However, there was a competition for a permanent job on the line, so getting into a fight would have to wait for later. “Tell me something, Smokey,” she replied with as sharp a tone she could muster. “How hard did your mother have to drop you to turn you from a normal colt into a misogynistic bastard? I’m only upset she didn’t drop you like the bass I’m gonna throw on these ponies, ‘cause then you’d be a literal slobbering idiot rather than figurative.”
“Well, Vinyl, at least I am not a delusional psychopathic mare.”
“No. That much is true. You’re a delusional, psychopathic co-”
“Thank you, everypony! Next up is an up-and-coming artist that has been sweeping Canterlot by storm. Give it up for DJ P0n3!” A smile crept on the mare’s face as the crowd cheered at her name. Rather than finish her scathing retort, she picked up her boxes with her magic and went up to the stage (adding a sharp snap of her tail at his flank as she passed, of course).
She did not bother to turn around and look when she heard him gasp slightly in pain, turning her nose up at him right before parting the curtain and stepping onto the stage. Passing through that curtain was like flipping a switch deep in her brain. All of a sudden, the petty rivalries, money worries, ego, and nervous tension were gone, making her every step feel as light as a feather.
The large, looming stereos flanked a complex mixing table that could accommodate almost any format of playable music from gramophone cylinders all the way up to those fancy new digital ports. For a pony with a mixed bag like her, such a setup was a Celestia-sent gift. “Hey there, fillies and gentlecolts!” she spoke into the microphone. “Ya havin’ a good time tonight?” The crowd cheered, making the unicorn grin. “Well, just sit tight and let me make it even better!”
Without looking, her magic enveloped two records from her collection and put them on the turntables as a pair of headphones wrapped around her ears. The instant the music started playing, a jolt of euphoria swept over her entire being as the result was immediate. Ponies on the floor immediately began to jump and dance as the bass hammered into Vinyl’s chest like a second heartbeat.
As she worked her magic, the crowd reacted perfectly to each new song and each twist she would add to it while leaving behind all thought of restraint or inhibition. For what felt like a short while, the only thing to exist in the world was the crowd, the music and Scratch herself. She was the conductor with the music as her baton and the audience as her instrument. Never before had she had this sense of power over such a large group of ponies, and she never wanted to stop. It was more intoxicating than the strongest liquor to her.
Before she knew it, her music and the crowd went silent, pulling her out of her high and throwing her unkindly back to Equestria as a bright spotlight shone upon her. Was the set already over? It only seemed like a scant few minutes, and she could not help but think she had been robbed of something incredible. “All right, ponies,” the MC said over the loudspeakers. “What do you all think of DJ P0n3?”
The resulting cheer nearly made her ears ring, even with the headphones still on... Or was that from the music? Either way, she was floored by the reaction as several patrons threw glowsticks into the air or stamped on tables just to make themselves as loud as possible. If she were not such a calm and collected pony, she might have blushed. Instead, her ever present grin only became wider and more confident.
“Wow! What a reaction! But hold your horses, since we still have two more DJs to listen to tonight. Thank you very much, P0n3, you may step off the stage now. Our next jockey comes all the way from sunny Las Pegasus...” The rest of his words drifted away from her mind as she stepped off the stage, putting her records away in a little pocket dimension she made for storing her equipment. She did not notice until then just how thirsty she was.
Vinyl trotted over to the bar breathing in the sweet scent of victory. Even if she did not win the contract, she knew that she had accomplished what she always set out to do: showing the ponies a good time. In the end, that was all that really mattered to her anyway. Of course, getting paid was nice too.
She sighed happily in relief as her flank made contact with the barstool and settled into the soft padding. “I’ll have a beer, please,” she asked one of the bartenders as they passed. As nice as it was to play music, she was happy to get off her hooves, especially as the excitement drained out of her and allowed her muscles room to protest. She stretched out and moaned under the sound of the music as they too sighed in relief.
“Don’t I know that feeling, kiddo,” some pony beside her said. “Nothing like doing a nice, long set and then getting hammered, right?” The voice was cheery and feminine, but jesting at the same time. Turning her head to get a look, Vinyl saw a white unicorn with a mane of two-tone purple done up in a mohawk. Looking into her orange eyes, she had no idea who she was talking to, for the mare was utterly unfamiliar to her.
“So... You’re a musician?” Vinyl asked.
“Yeah, kinda,” she replied as she took a glass in her ocean blue magic and downed it with a few swallows. Sitting on the bar, however, was something she had not noticed before. It was a pair of massive, purple tinted sunglasses. The shades gave her a very weird feeling, but then her beer came, so she shrugged it off as deja vu as she got down to the serious business of getting drunk.
The cogs in her brain stalled and chewed on those shades for some time as she quietly sipped her beer. Something about them seemed so familiar to her, but try as she might, she could not put her hoof on the how or the why. Just as she decided it was not important after all, her brain finally caught on. She spat out the last drops of her beer in her mouth, showering the bartender as she choked.
“Are you okay there, kid?” the pony asked, pounding her on the back to help her clear out the suds in her lungs.
“You’re,” she wheezed before coughing again. “You’re DJ Flare, aren’t you!?”
Contrary to expectations, the found-out celebrity only grinned at the figurative hoof pointed right at her. “One and the same, DJ P0n3. It’s a pleasure to meet ya.”
“Uh...” Vinyl stammered, trying and failing not to be star struck. “I uh... Yeah... It’s cool to meet you too,” she smiled awkwardly.
“I really liked your set, by the way. You must have spent hours trying to perfect it, the way you made the crowd, and even this old mare groove.” A genuine smile replaced her grin, warm and comforting. Vinyl quickly suppressed a blush she felt spread under her fur, not expecting praise like that from her inspiration.
“A-actually, I just kinda pulled it out of my rear,” she admitted. “I just brought out all of my records and put on what felt best at the time, I suppose.”
“Wow. That takes some real skill, filly. I’m actually a little bit jealous,” she giggled. “I could never improvise that well unless I was really high, drunk, or both at the same time. I can see why you have those notes as your cutie mark now.”
“Speaking of cutie marks, what is up with yours?” Scratch asked, pointing to her flank. The large, silver microphone almost blended in with the white fur. “Are you a singer? I mean, you never sing in any of your sets or anything like that.”
“Oh, that,” Flare smirked, surprisingly nonchalant about such a normally rude and unusual question. “It’s because I can sing and make funny voices, yeah. Imitating voices doesn’t really help when you’ve always wanted to be a DJ, but it gets your hoof in the door. Actually, it gets it in quite a few doors. I had to work really hard to get where I am, but let me tell you something, filly. You have TONS of talent for this, if this show is any indication.”
“Well... Gee... Thanks,” Vinyl stammered. She never expected such high praise from her idol. “I don’t know what to say.” Many minutes of relative silence passed between them as the other DJs took to the stage and performed their sets. The drinks flowed like water. Before either of them noticed, they were in each other’s embrace, singing quite badly.
“Ya... Ya know somethin’ ponthree?” Flare giggled after their shared ballad, leaning on the younger unicorn.
“Wuzzat?” the equally sauced mare slurred before hiccupping.
“Ah’ve only know yew fer a couple of hours... But you’re like... like a shishter I never hab!”
“R-really?”
“Mhm... If I were inta fillies, I’d be on ya like a fly on shit!”
Giggling drunkenly, the younger DJ pushed her off of her shoulder before breaking out into a full-on laugh, causing a look of befuddlement to wash over the other unicorn’s face. “But Flare, if yer like a shish ta me, den that whould be inshest!” The other unicorn looked stymied for a minute before she leaned over the counter and laughed just as hard.
“Oh my Cestya, that... That would be sho awkward!”
“Mhm. Imagine what ma and pa would say.” After a brief pause, they both broke down laughing, Vinyl hammering the wooden bar with her hoof as her body rocked with booze-addled laughter. “Oh, yer killin’ me Flare!”
“Fillies and Gentlecolts, it is time to announce the winner. Will all of the competitors please make their way to the stage?” Vinyl groaned reluctantly and got off of her seat, only to stumble and almost land on top of a pony passing by. The room kept spinning and she felt like she was going to fall down at any moment.
“Overdid it?” Flare asked as she too stumbled off of her stool, grabbing her shades shakily with her magic.
“A bit,” Vinyl said. “Can ya help meh up onto the shtage?”
“Shure, jus lean on meh.” Without a word of protest, the sauced DJ leaned against her inspiration and slowly walked through the crowd and up to the stage. If it were not for the booze flooding her system, she probably would have been nervous from all the eyes burrowing into her both on and off the stage. However, the bliss of intoxication meant that she did not give a flying feather what they thought of her.
Vinyl’s usual grin only became wider when the other ponies on the stage saw who she was with. Next to Flare, they were all wet-behind-the-ears foals scratching records with their rears. Sadly, she did not get a good look at her rival, $tereo, and what she figured had to be a contorted mixture of rage and jealousy because at the time she was much more focused on trying to stand up.
Once everypony was on the stage, a smart looking earth pony stallion in a dark suit took the stage and trotted up to the microphone with a piece of paper in hoof. With but a single gesture, the crowd became deathly silent before he cleared his throat. “In third place, with a score of one hundred and one decibels, we have DJ W1shdream!” Applause filled the air as the stallion took a bow for his audience, a look of worn disappointment on his face, but with hints of determination for the future.
“Our first runner up... with a score of one hundred and ten decibels is... DJ $tereo!” Unlike his counterpart, the irritating colt did not even try to hide his disappointment, or his indignation. Even in her addled state, Vinyl knew he had plans to contest the results to satisfy his over-inflated ego and sense of self-worth.
“Now, before I announce the winner of the grand prize, and the contract with this club, I would just like to say thank you to all of the talented ponies who came out tonight, and to you folk out there for being our judges. Now, without further ado; the grand prize! At an amazing one hundred and fifteen decibels... the winner of the contest is... DJ... Pon3!”
Shock flowed through her system, quickly flushing the alcohol out, at least for the moment. Did the MC make a mistake? Did she actually just win her first contract at the very same place that her idol, the very pony helping her keep her balance, got her start? “Holy buck,” was all she could say, eyes widened before she felt a nudge in her flank. Turning her head, her bleary eyes caught sight of the older disk jockey for only a moment before her world became tinted by purple and the mare’s face so close she could have sworn she felt their lips touching.
/***\/***\/***\
“Woah, woah, woah woah!” Blind Charge called out. “That’s enough of that, Toothpaste! Keep it PG!”
“Come on, we’re all adults here!” Colgate retorted. “I don’t see any foals around, do you?”
“Well, I know that story is an outright fabrication, even without hearing the end,” Quick Fix said while setting her now empty glass of sarsaparilla down. “Vinyl is not an in-your-muzzle fillyfooler when she’s drunk, and she’s certainly not a suave enough drunk to land a pony in bed.”
“I don’t know about that,” Octavia added before taking a sip of her coffee. “I’ve lived with her for nearly a year now, and I have known her to bring a fair few ponies home for the night, stallion or mare. One time, she even brought home a rather pleasant cow too.”
“Huh, you’d think she’d really milk that achievement for all it’s worth,” tittered Berry Punch.
“Maybe now, but not back then,” the brown stallion said, all present ignoring the sauced mare.
“Regardless, I think I speak for the peanut gallery when I say that story is probably a lie. I mean no offence to you, Toothpaste, but Vinyl in high school developed quite the knack for taking… liberties with the truth,” Quick Fix continued.
“Okay, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is, Wrench, and tell us the undeniably REAL story as to how Vinyl got those Celestia-damned shades,” Colgate said in a huff, resting against the seat of the booth with her front legs crossed.
“Why certainly, my dear mare,” the tan unicorn spoke before shimmying out of the stall.
“Where are you going?” Beauty Brass asked before Octavia could ask the same thing.
“I’m going to get a refill. Besides, we’re still missing Lye so I need to stall at least a little. I hope things went all right with Bonnie,” she replied before heading back to the bar. The feeling of the group had changed drastically since they had all started. Somehow, Octavia could sense that being told different stories was causing tension, as togetherness and harmony were replaced by unease and confusion.
“So, Octavia, do you like stickers? If you let me clean your teeth, I’ll give you a sheet. I even have one with cellos on them,” Colgate said with a sing-song tone at the end and a smile on her face.
Octavia blanched, and took another drink from her glass, wishing it was something stronger. She hoped Miss Fix would get back before her teeth were literally in the dentist’s hooves.
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Wow, when are any of these stories going to make sense?
these stories are pointing towards one familar aspect. vinyls mentor DJ flare. i suspect they all have a grain of truth to them. and from what i can tell the ending is something tragic, my geuss is flare was vinyls mentor who she met at a horse race or something, the two of them got drunk or something and one thing lead to another. then there was somekinda accident or something and flare died and she left vinyl the glasses. just a theroy.
That's by far the story with the most alcohol in it (at least what I read)
. Until now all variants has in common that the glasses were a present and te previous owner. I'm thrilled what versions we also will get. Hope to read you soon. 
through*
tail*
I think you meant "through".
I think you meant "ears".
Great chapter. Loved it. Love the confusion of the whole sitiation. Keep it up. Can't wait for more.
And that last line made it for me.
2102347
Thank you for catching those small mistakes.
2102486
'Tis what I do. Always glad to help.
I laughed at that.
I know the true story!
some sort of criminal riffraff or a mental patient.”
“Well, Vinyl does drive me crazy sometimes, but I’m not a mental patient yet.”
Since I know that this was released after The Vinyl Scratch Tapes, you stole one of the best lines ever, nearly used it proporly too.
2335805
Less 'stole' and more 'reference' since just about anyone who has read a Vinyl Scratch / Octavia fic has more than likely read The Vinyl Scratch Tapes already and if they haven't, they really ought to.
Is this story ever going to be finished or will it just be left to gather metaphorical dust?
3291547
Please, be a little patient. I want to go over and fix some things before I do the last bits.
3291762 It's fine. I was just wondering since it hadn't been updated in such a long time (if I were to leave something unfinished that long it would never get done). Sorry if I came off rude.
Octy's reaction to Vinyl having an education was priceless. You'd think she'd stop treating her roommate like dirt after that call with the butler.
6220830
Octavia thought it was a prank and decided to disregard it. I didn't make that very clear, and that was a mistake on my part. I apologize.