Musician's Lament
The Time of Day
by theswimminbrony
Chapter 1 - Musician's Lament
Late.
Ponyville's town square was bustling with life. Ponies of all shapes and sizes laughed and rejoiced in the afternoon sun without a care in the world, their worries disappearing on the breeze that so harmoniously complemented the heat brought forth from the afternoon sun. Everypony seemed to be having a good time, whether it be the fillies that splashed around in the fountain or the group of mares that window shopped for dresses for the upcoming Grand Galloping Gala.
Everypony, that is, except for one mare.
Late.
The mare in question was a unicorn that boasted a shimmering coat of mint green. Her equally distinctive mane and tail flowed behind her as she galloped through the town square, dancing her way around ponies that popped into her path.
"Afternoon, Lyra," some of them would say. The words fell on deaf ears, however, as the Lyra had only one thing on her mind:
You're late.
In the midst of the square's chaos, a familiar bench emerged from the sea of ponies. Lyra panted as she slowed her trot and approached the bench--her bench, that is. It was visited on such a frequent basis that she felt it deserved a plaque bearing her name on it.
Latelatelatelatelate!
She placed her saddlebags at her hooves and paused to catch her breath, despite the hurried state she was in. Her mind swimming with stress, she turned her head and glanced at the clock that stood behind her with piercing amber eyes.
6:52.
She had eight minutes. No more, no less. Eight minutes until the clock struck seven and the chorus of bells filled the evening air. Eight minutes until-
6:53.
...seven minutes, actually. She must have checked the clock just before it changed, she decided. Blast! She was even more behind schedule than she thought.
In merely seven minutes, shops across town would close for the day, their owners off to spend the rest of the evening doing whatever they pleased instead of having to listen to customers' gripes all day long. Ponies like that bubbly baker, Pinkie Pie, would close their businesses for a night on the town with their friends, while other ponies, like the mailmare, Derpy Hooves, would quietly leave their jobs and head home to spend time with the families that they cared so much about.
Feeling herself beginning to zone out, Lyra snapped back into focus and checked the clock one more.
6:54.
That minute went fast, she noticed. Either that, or she had been daydreaming much longer than she had thought.
As the last customers poured out of the businesses around town, it was time for Lyra to prepare for her own job. If one could call it that, anyway.
She was a musician.
Unfortunately, as a musician, the summer months were a bit... bland. With the desire for evenings spent outside rather than in crowded concert halls, Lyra was, for the most part, out of a job. Several other musicians found other areas of work, but Lyra couldn't bring herself to do anything but play the music she loved so much.
Which is why she performed in Ponyville's Summer Street Performing Event.
In a town filled with such a diverse amount of talent, it was hardly a surprise that each night the streets were packed with ponies that performed a plethora of tricks, ranging from magical displays to art shows. Being a sort of artist herself, Lyra couldn't help but appreciate every single act that the streets had to offer, as she knew how much effort it took to perfect an act into something that not only the audience would appreciate, but that you would appreciate as well.
6:55.
Sometimes, it was tough for Lyra to appreciate her own work. She had always been her own harshest critic, and in turn, the only pony that seemed to notice the mistakes she made. As a result, her late-night practice sessions with her lyre often ended in anger and frustration rather than satisfaction.
But she couldn't help it. She was a professional, and she had a reputation to keep.
...
...
She snapped back to reality as she caught herself daydreaming again. She surveyed her surroundings, noticing that the town was going through a distinctive shift into the night hours. A few ponies had even begun to set up their acts around her, such as the pony on her left that had painted herself a pure white in order to look like a statue. She was sliding the block she would be standing on along the ground, grunting with each mighty heave. For the first time that evening, Lyra smiled. She had always found those acts to be entertaining, especially when young fillies and colts screamed and giggled when the actor startled them with a sudden movement. The space to her right was empty, as it was home to an intersection that led down to the town's library.
A waving hoof caught Lyra's eye as she scanned her surroundings. She shifted her eyes to the source of the hoof and saw her dear friend and roommate, Bon Bon, waving at her with a huge smile on her face from behind a cart. The earth pony was selling her famous homemade candies, which ranged from chewy caramels to delectable chocolates, to a line of ponies that grew longer with each passing second.
With a nervous grin, Lyra returned the gesture. In a way, Bon Bon was somewhat responsible for the mare's acquisition of a spot in the Street Performers' lineup. After the musician had graduated from Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, she had moved to Ponyville to find a place to stay. She met Bon Bon in the park one day, and the two immediately hit it off. Being the kind earth pony that she was, Bon Bon had offered her a chance to stay at her place for free. Lyra had accepted the offer on one condition: that at least a portion of whatever she earned in Ponyville would go to Bon Bon as thanks. Bon Bon had protested numerous times, but eventually caved to Lyra's terms, delighted to have gained both a friend and a roommate.
And now Lyra stood in the town square, ready to follow through on that promise.
She would be starting her act soon. In fact, she only had...
6:58.
...two minutes.
Horseapples!
With only two minutes to get herself together, Lyra frantically pulled her lyre out of her saddlebags (not without a struggle with a stubborn zipper). A bright green glow surrounded the majestic instrument, which shone brilliantly under the lowering sun. Slowly and quietly, the musician strummed up and down her golden instrument's strings in an effort to get a feel for the lyre.
As she closed her eyes, Lyra immersed herself in the instrument as she ran magic across the strings, feeling more and more like a part of the lyre with each soft, reverberating note.
When she felt as though she had finally become reacquainted with her instrument's workings, Lyra opened her eyes to a completely different Ponyville. In just a few minutes, a throng of ponies had poured into the town square, nearly doubling the size of the crowd. Many of these ponies were lined up at Bon Bon's cart, distracted by the sweet scents that came from it.
Among the crowd, Lyra spotted a few ponies that seemed to be waiting for her act to begin.
HER act. Not somepony else's.
Hers.
For the second time that night, she flashed a genuine smile. It pleased her to know that ponies enjoyed her music.
Feeling satisfied with her pre-performance routine, Lyra felt ready. Ready to begin her act. To masterfully display the wonders of her instrument. To dazzle the audience with Arias and Odes and Reveries that only the most talented of musicians could perform.
It was only a matter of time. All she could do was wait for-
BONG!
-the bell.
The bell echoed throughout the evening air, chiming six more times as ponies cheered, anxious for the night's festivities to begin. Without being told, ponies knew that the bell signified a change in the day when the boring routine of business ended and the upbeat night life began.
With each chime of the bell, Lyra felt butterflies forming in her stomach, completely driving away any confidence she previously had. She felt as if she were a schoolfilly about to perform in front of an audience of familiar faces that had come to see her perform.
Come to think of it, that was pretty much exactly what she was doing: performing for ponies that she knew. Friends, even. In fact, she didn't see a single pony in the awaiting crowd that she didn't know personally, or at least recognize. She was essentially playing for fun in front of a bunch of friends, with the tips being an added bonus.
So why in the name of Celestia were her knees quivering so?
Attempting to take her mind of the subject, she took a deep breath and began playing her first tune. It was a composition of her own, titled 'Melody of Moonlight.' The slow, calm strokes across the lyre's strings reminded her of the soft beams of light that shone down on the town during the hours of the night, which happened to be her favorite time for both playing and composing. She also took the moonlight to be something that was a bit... underappreciated. She always heard ponies talking about how happy they were that the sun was out, or how they wanted to "have a word with the weather team and stop all this rain." But nopony ever appreciated the moonlight, or cared whether or not clouds blocked it from their view. To them, it didn't matter.
And that's exactly what the unicorn wanted to do in life--matter. Be important.
Becoming immersed in her own composition, the unicorn closed her eyes and let instinct take over as she felt her magic gliding across the strings. It was second nature to her, which was to be expected, since she bore the likeness of her instrument on her flank.
As she continued through her piece, she began to dabble in some improvisation to switch things up a bit. It was her own composition, so nopony would be the wiser. She always loved improvising. She felt like it added a little--what was the word--flair to the piece.
Some ponies seemed to enjoy her play-it-by-ear method, as she heard the first distinct *clink* of a bit hitting the bottom of the pail that stood beside her.
She opened her eyes to thank the kind pony, but was instead rendered speechless by what graced her field of vision.
The reason for her nerves. The source of the butterflies in her stomach.
That blasted stallion...
The memories came flooding back to her.
Cheers of 'surprise' filled the air in the Ponyville Library, the lights flickering on courtesy of Spike. In the doorway stood a chestnut colored earth pony, a look of shock evident on his face. This expression quickly dissipated, giving way to a chuckling and smiling appearance.
Ponies rushed to greet the town's newcomer, bringing presents and kind words with them.
All that is, except for her, who just stupidly stood in place, her eyes fixed on the pony's every movement. They stayed that way the entire night, following him, as she ironically strayed away from him, afraid to say so much as hello.
All she could do was watch. Watch as he talked to other mares in that charming Tottingham accent of his. Watch as he heartily laughed with the friends he had so easily made. Watch as that slob Berry Punch swooned all over him, intoxicated from the party's drinks.
Watch as he left, taking her heart with him.
Lyra closed her eyes again, attempting to fight off a wave of emotions that had overtaken her. Worthlessness. Sadness. Passion. Anger.
And love.
Love... or was it merely infatuation? She didn't know. Heck, she probably had about just as much experience in the art of love as Applejack's little sister.
She had loved, sure--she cared about her family and friends with all her heart--but she had never really been in love, and had no way of knowing whether this was just a fleeting crush, or something much deeper.
Bon Bon had always talked about both stallions and mares alike. She endlessly ranted about which ones had the best manes, the most appealing talents, the most beautiful eyes, et cetera, et cetera. But to Lyra, it had always just seemed like pointless drivel that she was obliged to pretend to pay attention to for the sake of being a good friend.
She mindlessly watched the chestnut colored stallion's every step as he trotted down the road to her right, off to his home somewhere between here and the library. Her lyre continued to emit its lullaby, undisturbed by its master's sudden preoccupation.
And then, he was gone. Out of her sight. Her emotions volleyed between relief and sorrow, not knowing whether to feel grateful that the moment was over, or sadness that he had once again failed to notice her.
Her focus being anywhere but the lyre that hovered beside her, Lyra strummed down one final time, completing the first song of the evening's repertoire. Amidst the rigorous stomping of hooves that came from the growing audience, she checked the clock behind her one final time.
7:05.
She scoffed. It hardly came as a surprise--it was always the same time every. Single. Day. There wasn't one time in recent memory where she had noticed the stallion leaving town square at any other time. Not 7:06. Not 7:04.
Always 7:05.
She couldn't understand it. It was like he was a robot or something. Each day was like clockwork for him, each hour containing a rigid schedule that threatened to cause chaos should it be broken.
But it made sense that he functioned in such a punctual manner, didn't it? He was a clockmaker, after all. And a clockmaker that ran off schedule made about as much sense as a writer that disliked reading, or a musician that hated practicing.
The musician sighed as she played the first few notes of her next song. She couldn't remember what it was called; she had other things on her mind. She closed her eyes to mask her emotions as she let the wave of music overtake her, the only thing mattering being herself and the lyre.
At least, that's all that should have mattered. As much as she loved everything about performing, especially in front of her friends, she couldn't shake the pestering thoughts of the handsome clockmaker.
After what seemed like an eternity, she finally finished her second song to be greeted by an even louder hoof stomping than before, followed by the distinct clink of metal hitting metal.
Showing no emotion, she began her next song, held firmly by the shackles of her occupation.
She groaned on the inside. It was going to be one of those nights.
-- -- --
Later that same evening, an exhausted Lyra sat at the kitchen table in the house she shared with Bon Bon. She had been waiting for her roommate to get home for quite some time, and her patience was beginning to wear thin. She would have chosen to go to bed much earlier, but she restrained herself due to the knowledge that she would be awakened the second Bon Bon barged through the door, wielding an arsenal of questions. The questions were always the same: how was your night? How much did you earn? Did you see any other acts? What was your favorite?
On and on and on...
She sighed. She loved Bon Bon with all her heart, but she had a nasty habit of being overly... what was the word... gregarious. It wasn't that Lyra was an antisocial pony--quite the opposite, actually--but compared to her, Bon Bon was a social butterfly. Once her mouth started moving, it was tough to stop it unless you stuffed it full of candy, much like another candy-obsessed earth pony, Pinkie Pie. Lyra had once joked that if you put the two bakers in the same room alone, the speed of their mouths moving would be enough to power all the lights in Ponyville for a week.
With nothing else to do, she counted her earnings for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. She tallied a hundred and sixty-two bits, just like the last ninety-nine or so times.
Always the same.
Like clockwork.
As she began to count the coins yet again, the front door burst open with a mighty kick, revealing the cream colored pony Lyra had been expecting. As always, the smile on her face was unwavering, and she seemed to be as full of joy as ever. Lyra could almost feel the energy emnating off of her roommate, and for a second, she felt reinvigorated.
But only for a second.
The babbling brook that was Bon Bon's mouth began flowing, questions pouring out of it like there was no tomorrow. Lyra knew she should have been paying attention, but she just sat there, head sitting in her hooves, eyelids slowly drooping down, feeling heavier and heavier with each passing blink as Bon Bon's voice grew continuously distant.
She felt as though she were finally going to get some rest, when...
"Hey! Earth to Lyra!" Bon Bon yelled in her roommate's ear.
"Gah!" Lyra jumped, almost falling out of her chair. "Bon Bon, what did you do that for?"
Bon Bon rolled her eyes and giggled. "Well, I was trying to talk to you but you just kept getting sleepier and sleepier! Do I really bore you that much?" she teased.
Lyra faked a laugh. "No, it's not that, Bon Bon. I'm just really tired, is all."
"Tired?" Bon Bon repeated, her face contorted in disbelief. "How in Equestria can you be tired already? It's only ten thirty!"
Only ten thirty... Lyra thought. "And you think that's early?"
"Well, in the summer it sure is! Especially for ponies like you!"
Lyra turned to her roommate with glaring eyes. Ponies like her... just what in the hay was that supposed to mean?
"And what, may I ask, do you mean by that?" Her voice carried a tone of forced kindness, similar to that of a librarian explaining to a group of foals that they either had to keep quiet or leave
Bon Bon smiled nervously. "Well, er... there's not really any concerts or anything coming up, so it's not like you're busy or anything... I mean, your only real 'job' right now is this street performers gig you've got going."
"And is that a problem?" Lyra retorted.
"What? No! Of course not!" Bon Bon protested. "You know the only reason I even let you give me part of what you earn is because you insisted that!" She eyed the metallic coins in front of Lyra. "Speaking of which, how much did you earn tonight?"
There it is. "A hundred sixty-two," Lyra quickly replied.
Bon Bon's eyes widened. "A hundred sixty-two?!" she repeated. "Lyra, that's... that's great! Really! That's the most you've made in a while!"
"It's not near as much as I make when I perform at events like the Gala."
Bon Bon blew a raspberry. "So? Like I said, you don't have any concerts right now. What you're doing right now is fine. I mean, it's just for fun, right?"
Lyra didn't respond.
"You did have fun, right?"
Lyra clenched her face in irritation. "Yes, Bon Bon," she said in a calm yet cool voice. "I had fun."
"Well, why'd you leave so early, then? Usually you come hang out with me for a while."
"I was busy."
"With what?"
"Stuff."
"Um... okay?" A short silence followed. "Did you-"
Enough.
"For Celestia's sake, Bon Bon, do you have to ask so many questions all the time?" Lyra blurted. She regretted saying it immediately, the hurt on her friend's face evident.
"S... sorry, Bon-Bon," Lyra apologized. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I just have a lot on my mind, is all."
A slight smile made its way back onto the cheery pony's face, compassion glittering in her blue eyes. "It's okay, Lyra. I understand." She pulled out a chair and joined Lyra around the table. Despite her exhausted state, Lyra was amazed at Bon Bon's ability to forgive her so easily. 'Forgive and let live,' she had said.
"So, you wanna talk about it?" Bon Bon pried, ending the long, awkward silence that had filled the kitchen.
Please, Bon Bon... "About what?" Lyra responded innocently.
Bon Bon rolled her eyes. "Don't play dumb with me, Lyra. You said something's bothering you. What is it?"
Lyra looked down to the floor, avoiding her friends gaze. "I don't really want to talk about it."
"What! Come on, Lyra!" Bon Bon pleaded. "We're best friends! We've been roommates for two years! You know you can tell me anything!"
Lyra let out a deep sigh. "I know, I know. It's just..." she mumbled, voice trailing off.
"Just what?"
"Just that it's kind of... embarrassing."
"Embarrassing? You?" Bon Bon waved a hoof. "Since when do refined musicians such as yourself have 'embarrassing' secrets?"
"I'm not a 'refined musician,' Bon Bon. That's Octavia."
"Whatever you say, Miss Canterlot."
Lyra sighed again at Bon Bon's tease, her eyes once again finding the comforting pattern of the tiled floor. Why couldn't Bon Bon just understand that she really wasn't in the mood to hear a joke right now? Sure, she knew she was just trying to cheer her up... but there are times when jokes just aren't funny at all.
Like right now.
Lyra jumped when she felt a hoof press against her shoulder. She expected Bon Bon to giggle at her high-strung response, but was surprisingly met by a pair of worried eyes instead.
"Lyra," Bon Bon spoke softly. "Honestly, what's bugging you? I hate seeing you like this, and I want to help."
"I don't wanna talk about it," Lyra responded in a nearly inaudible voice.
"What?"
"I don't want to talk about it!" Lyra quickly repeated, gritting her teeth together.
Bon Bon reeled back in surprise, her widened eyes filled with disbelief. Lyra thought that Bon Bon looked as though she were looking at a different pony, and not the roommate she knew and loved.
And, to be honest, Lyra felt like a different pony.
Something in Bon Bon's mind must have clicked, as she slightly backed off after her roommate's outburst. Maybe she had actually realized that this battle was not one she was going to win. Not today, anyways.
Admitting defeat, Bon Bon let out a deep breath and slowly stood up from the table, leaving behind the comfort she had attempted to offer. "Okay," she spoke in a voice that was gentle, yet filled with worry. "I get it. You don't want to talk about it, and I respect that."
"Thanks," Lyra replied, albeit halfheartedly.
"However," the earth pony replied in a raised tone. There was something in that word that somehow got Lyra's attention, despite her exhausted state. Something about it reminded Lyra of her instructors back at Celestia's School, who would always remind her to 'pay attention, or else.'
Bon Bon stuck her face inches from Lyra's, a smirk displaying the determination she felt. "Don't you think I'm done yet, Heartstrings."
Heartstrings...? It was rare for Bon Bon to call Lyra by her surname. She only seemed to do so when she was angry or upset, neither of which she seemed to be at the moment.
"I always find the answers to what I'm looking for," Bon Bon finished, her eyes narrowing to mere slits. "Always." A jab in the chest accompanied the cream colored mare's final word.
Struggling to keep her emotions under lock and key, Lyra managed to keep a straight face. She glared at Bon Bon with the same apathetic stare, pretending as though she were unfazed by her friend's challenge. On the inside, though, she was exactly the opposite. In fact, she almost felt... scared. It wasn't the kind of scared she got from going into the woods in the dark, or from telling ghost stories on Nightmare Night; rather, it was the fear she felt in the presence of other talented musicians, especially Octavia. It was a terrible feeling, one that always made her think that she was inferior, that no matter how hard she tried, how hard she struggled, she would always end up losing. She swore she saw a flash of the cellist's eyes in Bon Bon's, focus and determination radiating from their centers.
It was then that Lyra knew she would have to keep an eye out for her roommate and whatever it was she was scheming. Once Bon Bon had her mind set on something, it was hard to keep her from succeeding.
Lyra drew another parallel to Pinkie Pie at this point. For the most part, Bon Bon was a rather silly and carefree mare, but once she got an idea in her head, it was hard to change that mindset, and harder still to not feel intimidated by those soul-piercing eyes. It was like staring down a Cockatrice--no matter how hard you tried to fight the piercing gaze, deep down you knew you were going to lose.
"Well, good luck with that," Lyra muttered nonchalantly, attempting to sound unimpressed.
"Oh, I don't need luck," Bon Bon replied, snickering. "Just myself, a few friends...and these eyes to watch your every move," she added cryptically, pointing to the hypnotizing pools of blue on her face.
Lyra fumbled for a response, but resorted to keeping her poker face after coming up empty hoofed.
"At a loss for words, I see. I'm not surprised. Just remember, Heartstrings... I'm watching you." Bon Bon flipped her hoof back and forth between her face and Lyra's in one last attempt to intimidate the musician. When she was once again met with no response, she began to make her way up the staircase to her room, pausing every now and then to repeat the motion.
When Bon Bon had finally disappeared up the stairs, Lyra let out a sigh of relief, which surprised her, as she wasn't aware that she had been holding in a breath in the first place.
Her relief didn't last long.
"Oh, and goodnight!" a cheery voice called from the staircase. Lyra squealed and jumped as if she had been shocked by static electricity, taking the chair she was sitting on to the ground with her. She could have sworn she heard giggling from somewhere in the background.
Bon Bon... you are so random, she thought to herself, picking both herself and the chair off the dusty kitchen floor in a huff.
As she plopped herself down on the chair for a second time, the exhaustion of the day's events started to catch up to her. A mental exhaustion, not a physical one, she noted. She was exhausted from the worrying, the nerves, the gripping thoughts of the chestnut colored stallion, and especially from her roommate.
It was strange, she thought. She had felt like a completely different pony today. She had seen it in Bon Bon's eyes that she had thought so, too. She wasn't being her normal, sociable self, and instead was worrying about things that most ponies would consider trivial.
She agreed with them, even. Why would a musician such as herself be wasting thoughts on what most would consider to be a petty crush? She was a professional, for Celestia's sake, and here she was, acting like a high school filly.
Her eyelids grew heavier as the night dragged on, her mind still plagued with thoughts of the clockmaker. She knew that she wouldn't be able to hide her secret from Bon Bon for long, as she was a surprisingly sneaky and resourceful pony. For some reason, though, she wanted to avoid the topic for as long as possible. She didn't know why she thought this; maybe she wanted to get her thoughts together or something.
Even so, her time was limited.
It wasn't much longer before the exhaustion overtook the troubled mare and she fell asleep at the kitchen table amidst her troubling thoughts. She breathed in a steady rhythm, the rise and fall of her chest mimicking the strumming of her instrument that she had played only hours before.