You talent is what you loathe. However, Octavia shows you how to appreciate your talent.
[2nd Person story involving you and Octavia.] You're a pretty talented piano player, trained by your perfectionist of a father. The issue is that you grew up hating what you do so well. Octavia becomes rather fond of your talent and tries to show you there is something special in what you do. Your past might be a road block to your happy future though and it seems Octavia is willing to help you overcome it.
Your piano playing skills were supplying the casual background music to the café. While the rest of the ponies in the room chatted idly, you only had attention for task at hoof. The music soothes your mind and puts you at ease. When you started to play, everything else around you got blocked out. These were the small comforts that you had when playing the piano. After all, you needed something to enjoy while your dad yelled at you for hours at end whenever you would screw up. A perfectionist he was and Dad built you in his mold in a way. Practicing and having Dad breath down your neck to pick on you for any mistakes was a living nightmare and you had to endure it until you finally became a grown up.
Every time you touched the keys on the piano, you felt a feeling of loathing and satisfaction in your heart. You enjoyed playing, just not the way you learned to get to this level. Dad, on the other hoof, hated playing on the piano, but felt it was a very good talent to have. He preferred playing on cello’s and trumpets. There have been times when you wondered if Dad was just angry at his lack of talent on the piano and used you as a way to make him feel better. Assumptions can only be made; Dad was just too thick headed to argue with.
It was a miracle how you managed to keep the anger in your heart spilling all over your talent. No pony could even comprehend somepony like you, being more laid back then most, have such a demon in your heart. When you played it gave a rather calm aurora to others. You, on the other hoof, felt trapped within your own talent that Dad pushed upon you.
There was one good thing coming out of Dad nearly bullying you to play the piano, it paid the bills. Sure, you didn’t mind working in factories and such. It was just that you got more pleasure out of playing the piano, even if you had to play in little café’s and clubs. Mom told you to ditch playing the piano if you hated it so much. Thing was, you always found your way back to a piano. You love to hate your talent sometimes.
You wrap up the last song of the day and trot over to the cashier to collect. He notices you coming over and brings out a small pouch from under the counter.
“There ya go Mr. Piano man!” The stallion chirps, handing the pouch over to you.
“Thanks Roast.” You reply, offering a smile in return.
It was a nice payday…maybe to nice.
“Um, Roast.” You mutter sheepishly.
“What is it? Not what you expected?” Roast asks, giving you a nervous glance.
“Not in a bad way. This is just more then I expect.” You reply quickly.
“Ah, well, I figured you earned it.” Roast replied with a shrug.
You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about taking the extra bits. It’s not like you needed them anyway. While Roast had his back turned to you, probably sprucing up some tea for a customer, you drop a few bits in the tip jar.
“You can’t fool me.” Roast mutters, still having his back turned to you.
“I try my best.” You reply happily.
Roast just chuckles and hands you the cup of tea.
“Isn’t this for a customer?” You asked nervously.
“Nah, that’s what you get for giving me a tip. I also figured you might be thirsty after playing on the piano so long.” Roast answers, turning his back on you again.
The faint charming aroma was from the tea. You could feel your throat getting scratchy and dry. Going against your pride, you grab the cup of tea and take a sip from it. Your throat burned a little once the tea started to run down your throat. Still, it satisfied your thirst.
You suddenly feel a tapping over your shoulder and you turn around to see a gray mare standing there, holding at an extended hoof. She looked a little embarrassed after you gave her your full attention. There was something about her light purple eyes that pulled you in, almost like a hypnotic trance. Or maybe it was just that you thought she had cute eyes.
“Um, sorry to bother you but can I ask a favor? Mind playing a song for me and my friends?” The mare asked sheepishly.
“Well…” You mutter, trying to mull over the offer.
“He will gladly oblige dear.” Roast suddenly interjected.
You can turn around and notice Roast had been observing the situation with a silly smile plastered on his face. He gives you a knowing wink and returns to filling up a cup of tea. Great, just when you thought you were done for the day, Roast was giving you more work. You throw Roast a mean glare before turning your attention to the gray mare, who looked at you expectantly.
“Like he said, I’ll be glad to play a song for you and your friends. Any request?” You trot back over to your piano and take a seat before it, preparing yourself for anything she threw at you.
“Ave Maria.” The mare offers simply.
You never were able to understand the words to the song, only having listened to it in its native language. Nonetheless, the song always tugged at your heart strings a bit. Without delay, your hooves glide over the keys. The crowd in the room went rather silent as you played Ave. For the first time though, you noticed something else besides the keys that where in front of you. That gray mare had kept grabbing your attention every now and then. It was her eyes that really enchanted you the most when you would sneak a peek at her.
She gives you a wink once she you notices you staring at her. You start to feel the heat rushing to your face. That wink nearly threw you out of focus and you noticed how much more flustered you were getting. Thankfully, you were nearing the end of the song. After you were done, the crowd in the store broke it in applause. At first you were totally thrown off by the sudden clapping and cheering, being more used to being yelled at for missing a note. The gray mare caught your full attention again and you quickly make a beeline to her.
“So, how was that?” You ask, giving her a sheepish smile.
“You were fantastic!” The mare exclaimed, giving you an approving nod.
Now, it wasn’t unusual for you to get praise from the audience. However, you couldn’t help but actually feel grateful that she complimented you. The mare hands you a pass to Note Theater. Dad had spoken of the place, since he actually played there a few times. Apparently, the place was a very prestigious musical theater. Only the best of musicians play there and it was considered an honor if you got to play there. Personally, you never really cared about the Theater. Mainly since Dad was always reminiscing about his “golden days”. Anything that he thought was amazing is what you loathe with a fiery passion.
“I hope you make it. Tomorrow in the morning is when you need to be there.” The mare explains before following her friends out of the café.
“Wait!” You call after her more desperately then you would have liked. She turns around and gives you a pleasant smile. “What’s your name?” Yet again, you fail to hide how badly you wanted to know.
“Octavia.”
She then turned around and trotted after her friends. You lean back on the cashier counter and let out a sigh. Roast noticed the sad look on your face and resorted to taking a brandy from underneath the counter.
“What don’t you have under there anyway?” You joked, eyeing the bottle of brandy with interest.
“That’s a secret.” Roast replied, pouring a cup for him and you.
“Thanks.” You mutter, gingerly grabbing the cup and drinking the contents in one gulp.
“Take it easy there champs, I’m not dragging you home if you get carried away.” Roast teased, pouring some more brandy into your cup. “Anyway, you really fancy Octavia don’t you?” Roast gave you a quizzical look.
“You read me like an open book Roast.” You reply, sipping at your cup more slowly this time.
“It’s rare for you to make a mistake, let alone keep your eyes off the piano keys. That was the first time I saw you out of your zone.” Roast pointed out, taking a casual sip out of his cup.
“I can’t help it, there’s just something about her Roast.” You dreamily recall her light purple eyes. They just grabbed a hold of you and never let go.
“Glad to see you enjoying yourself a bit. Going to the Theater?” Roast looks at the pass Octavia gave quickly before continuing to look directly at you.
“I guess so.” You idly turn the pass around repeatedly.
“Odd, I don’t recall any shows going on in Note Theater this week. Things pick up there at the start of next week though.” Roast informs, looking at the pass with interest.
“Eh, I’ll head over there anyway. Lucky for me it’s here in Canterlot right?”
“That it is. I wish you the best of luck.” Roast holds his cup out for a cheer and you clink your cup against his.
“My Dad is going to get all worked up if he finds out about this.” You mutter darkly.
“Let him get worked up. This is your time to have something going for you.” Roast replies, waving aside your worries like nothing.
You just shrug and take another sip from your cup. Surprisingly, the cup was empty. You wished that Dad took a leaf out of Roast’s book. He wasn’t even your dad, yet he encouraged you more than Dad ever did. Roast actually cared about your opinion while Dad thought his was the only valid one in the room.
After bidding Roast good bye, you head back to your house. You lived a few blocks away from the Royal Palace. There was a window in your room that offered you a spectacular sight of the castle. Considering the rather high rent, you figured the view was worth it. There was only one thing on your mind as you tried to get in a comfortable spot on your bed, Octavia’s light purple eyes and how they just sucked you in.
An alarm clock went off in your room. At first, you just wanted to hit snooze to get some more rest. Just as you were fumbling around for the snooze button though, the Note Theater pass Octavia gave you grabbed your attention. It had been right underneath the alarm clock. You pull it from its hiding spot, completely disregarding the alarm now. Octavia still didn’t give you a clear reason why she wanted you there. Perhaps she just wanted you to be there?
A loud rumble from your stomach interrupts your train of thought. Forgetting to eat dinner yesterday and risking the chance of skipping breakfast seemed to have its flaws. The café usually has something nice cooking. Maybe Roast can shed some light on Octavia’s intentions.
You trot through the rooms of your house. As you enter the living room, a picture on the mantle above the fireplace catches your eye. You walk up to it and, once you realize who was in it, slammed it flat on the mantle.
“I thought you were supposed to be at Note Theater?” Roast asked, sipping away at his cup of tea.
“I can’t help if I get really hungry.” You mumble.
“Ha, I’ll fix you something up quick.” Roast walked to the kitchens.
The chit chat of the crowd around you was starting to get on your nerves. They were talking about the most stupid things. Honestly, don’t ponies have better things to do? Gossip was such a dangerous thing and you knew how well it disassembled a pony’s reputation.
“Here ya go! It’s on the house!” Roast placed a huge plat that had the biggest sandwich on it that you have ever laid eyes on.
“Don’t you think this is overkill?” You eye the sandwich with fear. Darn thing looked like it could eat you.
“Nah, silly thing is more bread then anything. Figure to get you something big since I know you skipped dinner yesterday.” Roast explained.
You gingerly poke the sandwich to make sure the thing isn’t alive or something. Last thing you wanted was to be its breakfast. After it made no sudden movements, you cautiously start eating it. The sandwich tasted pretty good.
“Glad you like it.” Roast chuckled at the satisfied look on your face.
“Roast, do you have any idea why Octavia gave me the pass to the Theater?” You really hoped Roast had an answer for you.
Roast scratched his chin and started to look off into the distance. “I can’t really say. Maybe she likes how you play the piano? That wouldn’t explain why she’d want you there though.” Roast finally muttered.
You just hang your head. Even Roast wasn’t sure about this. “I’ll just find out when I go there.”
“Good luck anyway.” Roast tipped his cup of tea at you before taking another sip from it.
“One last thing before I go. Where is Note Theater exactly?” You ask.
“I’ll just take you there. Just let me get one of the ponies in the back over here to cover for me.” Roast replied.
It didn’t take long for Roast to convince a mare to cover for him. She seemed unwilling at first but Roast offered her a raise. That gesture sealed the deal.
“Alright, that’s it for wasting time. We need to get you there pronto.” Roast declared before trotting out of the café quicker than expected.
Roast wasn’t exactly old and you kept letting that fact slip by you. He was just one of those guys who were just wise beyond his years. That probably why everyone thinks he’s older than what he actually is. You trot outside and notice Roast is already a block ahead of you. Running wasn’t exactly your strength but you managed to catch up with Roast’s surprising speed.
“When did you start running so fast?” You manage to ask, trying hard to catch your breath.
“Easy, I used to run track back in the day.” Roast replied happily, not even showing a hint of exhaustion.
You started to close the gap between you and Roast. This didn’t go unnoticed by him though; Roast picked it up a notch and made the small gap between you two even larger. A large group of ponies were heading right at you. Roast maneuvered his way around them with grace while you were just barely able to keep bumping into one of the ponies. After you finally got past the mob of ponies walking past you, Roast was already waiting patiently near a building.
“This is the place.” Roast muttered as you got closer to him.
He had been looking at a poster of one of the former acts here. You instantly recognize one of the trumpet players at the far left. A burning hatred built in your heart and just had to look away from the poster. Roast just sighed and gestured to the front door of the building. You stared at Roast unsurely for a minute; he gives you a confident smile and makes a “go on” motion with his hoof.
There was a rather large stallion standing near the door. You showed him your pass and he gave you an approving nod before letting you in. Note Theater looked huge from the outside and it was the same way inside as well. There was a large group of ponies on the stage. Not wanting to be a distraction, you take a seat near the back of the seats and just watch. It seemed like the ponies noticed your presence anyway.
“You, standing in the back, get up here.” The composer demanded.
All of their eyes were focusing just on you. It was a very unsettling feeling. If this is how a zoo animal felt, you had pity for them now. You trot up to the stage, preparing yourself for a possible interrogation.
“What are you here?” The composer questioned.
“I gave him a pass to get in.” A familiar voice answered. Octavia stood up slightly and gave you a slight wink, which made you feel a little flustered.
“You gave him a pass?” The composer seemed to have calmed down a bit but it didn’t stop him from glaring at you. “So you’re the fantastic piano player some of them have been talking about.” The composer muttered.
You shot a look at Octavia; she gave you a sheepish smile, before giving the composer a nod. For once, the composer looked at you with interest rather than anger. He gestures you to the piano on stage. After taking a sat behind the piano, you were surprised on how elegant it was. Growing used to playing on a black or brown piano and to see a white one was odd. The keys were the same though so the territory wasn’t too different.
“Before our interruption,” The composer throws you a dirty look. “I just wanted to know if he is the only piano player you all found.”
The front door opened again and a mare was walking down to the stage. You notice the composer had a stupid grin on his face and you had a strong urge to buck him.
“Excellent!” The composer exclaimed, actually helping the mare up on the stage. “What is your name dear?
“Melody is my name.” The mare took a glance at you and gives you a flirty wink. This didn’t slip the composers notice and he shot a glare at you worthy of scaring off even the bravest of warriors.
“If you don’t mind Melody, please take a seat at the other piano…” The composer was cut short when Melody sat right next to you.
“I’m fine here.” Melody replied happily.
The composers face grew slightly red but he kept his cool. You could see Octavia was looking a little annoyed when Melody sat next to you. She ran her bow to roughly across the cello strings, actually breaking one of them. Melody let out a soft giggle after watching Octavia. You feel a shiver go down your spine suddenly. The cause of the shiver was from Melody rubbing your leg with her foreleg. Melody gave you a flirtatious smile once you noticed what she was doing. Her blue eyes weren’t warm either…they were filled with lust.
You try to move a little to get Melody’s hoof of her leg to no avail. Octavia couldn’t notice what Melody was doing but it didn’t stop Octavia from glaring at her all the same. Even the composer was giving you a mean look while he tried to have the orchestra play in sync. Great, this is just what you needed. To sit through a practice routine with a mare rubbing your leg and the composer is looking at you like he would just love to snap you in half. However, you wish Octavia was the one sitting by you. That would probably make up for all the nonsense that was going on.
“I think we should take a break.” The composer noted.
Majority of the musicians took a sigh of relief and headed for the door, probably going to grab something to eat. Octavia gave you a fleeting smile before her friends whisked her away. Relief wasn’t coming your way though. Melody hadn’t stopped rubbing your leg for the entire duration of the practice. Even now, she was slowly rubbing you. As the composer got closer, Melody ceased her rubbing and shifted her attention to the composer as he got closer to you two. Again, he looked less than pleased to see you again.
“Well, now is a good time to explain why you are all here. My name is Greg.” The composer gave you two folders, filled with sheets of notes. “As you figured out, there is a lack of a piano player in the orchestra. So, I had some of the band members scavenge for one.” He gestured to the two of you before he continued. “They found you two and I was wondering if you two would like to audition for the spot.” Greg looked hopefully at Melody more than anything.
“I guess so.” You mutter, thinking back on Octavia.
“I’ll stick around.” Melody replied right after you.
Yeah, she’ll probably be sticking on your leg like glue. After the briefing, Greg tried hitting on Melody. Taking advantage of this, you slip of your chair without her notice and leave the theater. As you walked out from the front door, Octavia snuck up behind you.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Octavia mumbled sadly.
“Nah, it’s not your fault Melody sat next to me.” You quickly try to make Octavia feel better.
It seemed to have cheered her up a bit. “I guess so. Mind coming with me to the Musicians Friend store? I need to replace some strings on my cello.” Octavia wore a nervous smile as she spoke.
You recall one of the strings, for her cello, had snapped cleanly in two and Octavia’s angry face as she used her bow to do this. A small spark of fear sunk into you. If she could break a metallic string with just the strings on the bow, what could she do to a pony?
“I’ll tag along.” You reply after mulling it over.
Her eyes light up with enjoyment, which you found utterly cute. You follow Octavia, due to not having a clue where the store was. While you two walked through the streets, your eyes lingered on her flanks every once in a while. How her hips swayed back and forth at a continuous pace. It was like you were falling in a trance, one that you really enjoyed.
Octavia stops abruptly and your eyes snap over to her face when she turns around to address you. “Here we are!”
The Musicians Friend’s store looked pretty fancy and had a classical vibe to it, maybe the reason why Octavia comes here for supplies. You couldn’t see what was so great about this place, but Octavia looked delighted to be here. She raced into the store, like a little school filly, and part of you found it adorable.
When you walked into the store, Octavia was already chatting idly with an elderly stallion behind the counter. Curiosity got the better of you and you decide to see what’s so interesting about this old guy.
“Nate, this is my friend. He is here with me while I got some extra strings for my cello.” Octavia introduced you and shortly wandered around looking for strings.
“Nice to meet you,” Nate held out his hoof for you to shake.
Once you grab it, he puts a vice grip on you and releases quickly. For an old guy, he still was that strong? There was an odd glaze to his eyes. Could he have been…
“Are you blind, Nate?” You ask cautiously.
“That I am, since I was born in fact.” Nate replied happily.
“How do you run a store like this then?” You couldn’t believe a blind guy ran a store. What would happen if somepony would rob him blind, literally?
“I usually have an assistant, but she is running late today. If I can play a piano, I see no issue on how to operate a store for a few hours.” Nate explained.
“You play a piano? So do I!” You could hardly keep the excitement and interest from your voice.
“Do you really? I hope I have the opportunity to hear you play.” Nate sounded just as interested as you, giving a slight bow of recognition as well.
“I hope so to, never got to see a blind pianist before.” You reply.
“I see you two are getting along just fine!” Octavia interjected, flashing a smile to the both of you.
“Got your strings?” Nate asked, placing out his hooves expectantly.
Octavia nods and hands over some of the cello strings, along with bits for payment, to Nate. Being blind didn’t hamper with his ability to operate with a cash register and proper pricing. You could only guess either he had all this down by memory or just pure luck. After slipping the bits into the register, Nate hands you the strings.
“You carry her things.” Nate muttered.
How did Nate figure out where you were standing was beyond your comprehension. Nonetheless, you grab the strings, with your mouth, from him while Octavia waits expectantly at the door.
“Great, you got them!” Octavia exclaimed.
She pulls the strings from your mouth with her own. Her lips nearly graze yours as her mouth grips around the strings. The heat was rising to your face and it was extremely difficult to hide your blushing when Octavia finally pulled back, with strings in her mouth. Octavia gestures you to follow her, which you do. Yet again, she takes the lead and your eyes linger back to her flanks every once in a while.
“Why and when did you start playing the cello?”
Octavia looked rather surprised with your question. “Probably back when I was a filly.”
“Did anypony...um, force you to practice?” You had grown to hate cello players and trumpets, besides Octavia. The fuel of that hate was due to your dad. There had to be a good reason for her interest in the cello.
“What, no. I was just so absorbed into the sound of the cello. How deep, warm, and rich it sounded to me…I really was just breathless when I first heard the sound.” Octavia replied, acting rather nostalgic of her first experience with the cello. “If I remember correctly, Oscar was the first cellist I heard play.”
You mistakenly hit all the low keys on the piano you were practicing on. Did she really say his name? How in the world did she fall in love with the sound of his playing, while you grew up to resent it to no end? The deep, warm, enriching sound she heard only translated to you as one of arrogance and dominating. Octavia gave you a quizzical look, probably trying to figure out why you reacted to badly to his name. To avoid suspicion, you continue practicing one of the songs Greg had given you to practice. However, you barely were paying attention to the notes on the sheet and did your own thing.
“Anyway, why and when did you start playing the piano?” Octavia had her full focus on you now. Her eyes gave you the impression that she could see through all your lies, it was unsettling.
“My dad got me into playing the piano when I was a young colt.” You reply, almost failing at keeping the betterment out of your tone.
“For somepony who has been playing an instrument for so long, you barely smile when you play.” Octavia mumbled thoughtfully.
“I take my craft seriously, maybe too seriously.” You choose your words carefully, not wanting to lie but not say the full truth either.
“I guess that’s not a bad thing. Still, try to lighten up when you play.” Octavia advised. “Oh, one last thing before I go. Hope you aren’t getting tired of invitations.” She gives you a sheepish smile before sitting by your side to show you the invite letter.
“It’s to a dinner party with all our fellow band members and many other musicians from across Equestria. I figure this would be a good time for you to better know who you’ll be playing along with.”
“Do I have to get a suit?” You ask, giving Octavia a weary look.
“It would be appropriate for the occasion.”
A sigh of defeat escapes your lips. “Alright, anything else I should be aware about? Considering what you got me into the last time, after all.” You gesture to the piano before you, which makes Octavia looked slightly embarrassed.
“I thought you would have skipped coming here if I told you what was going on.” Octavia sounded genuinely afraid of the possibility of your rejection.
“Nah, it’s alright. Fortunately for me, you invited me here. If it were somepony else, I would probably would’ve passed.” You nearly bite your tongue off as you spill these words out. Did you just confess your feelings?
“Oh come on, you make it look like I’m something special.” Octavia waved aside your compliment with a clumsy hoof, looking rather embarrassed.
“But you are.”
Octavia blinked rapidly a few times. Before you can say anything else, Octavia quickly leave the stage and out the theater. She had left her cello behind, but you knew it would still be here for tomorrow’s practice. You smack your head on the piano keys to release some of the bottled up stress in you. Pain was now in exchange for your stress, which probably wasn’t a good difference. The loud eruption of notes, which started to cause you a headache, now accompanied the pain on your forehead.
“Too early, I guess?” You whisper to yourself.
Your question echoes multiple times through the theater and with each recitation, your anger and embarrassment doubles. Indeed, you just had met Octavia yesterday and you were already being to…suggestive? To be fair at least rubbing Octavia’s leg, unlike some other ponies, on the first day wasn’t on your to-do list, not that you would mind if it was okay with her. Once you pick up your head from the piano notes, the dinner party invitation stuck to your face. After removing the invitation, you glance over the details within it. Time, place, and entertainment had been all listed on the invite.
If Octavia was a fan of your dad, perhaps you could get an autograph for her? The autograph would hopefully make up for this little incident. This would also mean that you would have to talk to your dad again…Oh joy.
It’s been a while since you been in the home you grew up in, as a kid. The house was white and glossy, this was Canterlot, and had two floors. Not much changed over the years, except the old tire swing you put on the front yard was long gone. True, that old tire was an eyesore standing close to the lavish house. However, this didn’t mean that old tire held some sentimental value for you. Dad would force you to practice until he felt you had enough, meaning until dawn to dusk. He would allow you a short break, which you would use to play on the tire swing. Mom had helped you set it up and even pushed it for you, while your dad sat fuming at the sight of you being happy from within the house.
These floods of memories were just one of the reasons why you didn’t like to come here. There was too much in the past for you, things that you wanted to stay away from at any cost. You hesitantly knock on the front door, hoping that there wouldn’t be an answer. The metallic clicking behind from the door told you otherwise. A mares head poked through the small amount of room she had opened the room. Calling her a beauty was being too nice, she looked rather grumpy and that took away from her looks.
“Who are you?” The mare demanded impatiently.
“I’m here to talk to Oscar.” You try to remain as neutral as possible.
She leans closer to you, the smell of alcohol emitting from her very fur. “Oscar you say? He’s busy right now.”
“Doing what?” You knew you weren’t going to like the answer.
“It’s not a question of doing what. Doing who is a better question.” She hints mischievously.
Yep, that answer didn’t sit well. “Of course he is. If you can, tell him that I’m-.”
Your old man pushed open the door to its full extent. “What are you doing here?”
“I need your autograph for a friend.” You mutter bitterly, seeing your dad’s face made you sick to your stomach.
“That must be a good friend for you to come over here.” Dad mused. “Fine, I’ll do it, under one condition.”
“I’ll play along. What do you want?” Keeping the bitter anger from your tone was getting harder by the second.
“Is it true that you are auditioning for the piano in that show in Note Theater soon?” For once he looked at you with interest, rather than criticism.
“That I am.” You confirm slowly.
“Ha, Melody will blow you out of the water within seconds.” Dad snickered evilly. Of course he had nothing positive to say, for you anyway.
“We’ll see about that.” You reply, finally letting all the bitter resentment flow into your tone.
Dad grabs an old picture of himself, when he used to play as a cellist, and signed it. He shoves the portrait in your grasp and slams the door in front of your face. The frame for the picture was rather fancy and so was the suit he wore in the picture. Seeing this picture of your dad’s golden days, only reminded you of the part and that you needed a suit for it. Not wanting to ask your father for anything more, you head to a local tailor to get something nice to wear.
Getting the suit isn’t what bothered you; the finished product is what you found rather magnificent. No, it was the tiresome process of getting a suit made for your exact size and so on. A suit was a suit, not some complicated science around fabrics and measurements. You couldn’t complain though, the mare who tailored your new suit was surprisingly fast. Yet she liked to pick on the smallest flaws of it. Not wanting to sit through a lecture about silk, you pay the price for the suit and head back home to get ready for the party.
Once you walked into the comforts of your home, you knew it was time to get moving. Dad’s signed portrait was hidden in the bag that came with your suit. Not wanting to look at it, you keep the picture facing flat on the ground as you tried on the suit. For some reason suits always gave you the feel of being rather limited, running in something like this was impossible. It was a black suit, might as well stick true to the classics. After giving yourself a brief inspection, you nod to your own reflection in approval. That mare really did wonders with this suit.
Dad’s portrait grabbed your eye again as you passed by the living room to the front door. You had ditched the picture on the coffee table when you first came home. Part of you still wandered how could Octavia like your dad’s skill; then again she wasn't aware of what kind of pony he was in the house. As you grab your dad’s signed portrait, you hope the effort into getting this autograph will pay off. If not, pictures better be easily flammable.
The invitation said that the dinner party will take place in a restaurant, called Grace. Apparently, Grace was situated a few blocks away from Note Theater. A rather silly thought kept popping in your head as you trotted through the streets of Canterlot. Would Octavia have tricked you? Last time she had ‘invited’ you, it was mainly for you to fill in as the pianist. There had to a catch.
All your thinking made you oblivious to your surroundings. Soon you collide right into a stallion, which looked awfully familiar.
“Mind paying attention?” Roast turned over to glare at you and cringed once he realized who you were.
“Sorry about that, Roast.” You try to sound as genuine as possible, for that would not be enough.
“Eh, it’s fine, I wasn’t carrying anything.” Roast dusted off himself as he regained his composure.
“What do you mean by that? Shouldn’t the café be closed?” It was unnatural for Roast to remain open late. He deemed that ponies were not meant to rot in front of a coffee maker.
“Oh, it is. Grace was a little low on beverages, so we cut a deal.” Roast gestured to a large barrel, that a stallion trotted off with and carried to Grace.
“Hey, mind helping me get to Grace?”
“You should really walk around town some more. I can’t be your tour guide forever.” Roast teased.
If you had rolled your eyes anymore, they would have popped out of their sockets. “Can you get me there or not? I need to be there early.”
“What’s the rush?” Roast looked rather surprised to see you so uptight with time.
“Well, remember Octavia?”
“That I do. What happen back at Note Theater anyway?”
“I’m trying out for the pianist spot. Anyway, she invited me to Grace for a dinner party the members of the orchestra and some other musicians are holding.” You answer.
“That’s why Grace needed all these drinks.” Roast mutter more to him then you. “Come on, let’s get moving.”
If the orchestra and famous musicians were eating at Grace, you figured the place was to be very luxurious. With just looking at the front entrance of the restaurant, the princesses themselves might have been eating there. Instead of the usual all white glossy marble that were used to make buildings in Canterlot, gold plating and some hints of cherry wood were evident. Roast gestures you to walk up the staircase to the entrance, but doesn’t follow.
“There are still some barrels that need to be brought here. After I’m done, I’ll try to find you.” Roast turns on his heel and trots back to the café.
You push open the door and the luxury inside was similar to the ones outside. Gold plating, cheery wood, and some Persian carpet were in the restaurant. What really caught your attention though was the enormous chandelier that hung above the room. How a thing of its huge size didn’t collapse to the ground blew your mind.
“Oh, it’s you again.”
Sure enough Greg was trotting up to you, looking less then pleased with your presence. As to why Greg chose to be a jerk to you was none of your concern, however if you were to become the pianist for his orchestra this will only become a bigger problem. To cut the tension you return a smile, which only further enraged Greg.
“Who were you expecting?” You try to keep the conversation casual.
“I invited Melody.” Greg looked over your shoulder, hoping that she would come through the doors.
“Well, you have fun with that. Mind telling me where to dinner party is?”
“Just ask a waiter to get you there. Who gave you the invite anyway?” Greg snapped coldly.
“Octavia invited me.” You flash your invite at Greg to justify yourself.
“How odd, I thought somepony already asked her.” Greg muttered to himself.
Somepony already invited her? Your mind was racing for an answer to Octavia’s desire for you to be here. Again, Greg’s attitude was getting on your nerves. You trot past Greg, who stared hawkeyed at the front entrance, and call over a waitress. She looked like a fairly nice mare, hopefully having a better attitude then Greg.
“Whatcha need?” The mare asked in a bubbly voice.
“Know where the musicians from Note Theater are playing?”
“Of course I do! They reserved a whole room in this place to themselves.” The mare answered promptly, gesturing you to follow her.
The mare takes you to a rather large section of Grace. A small band was playing on a stage in the corner of the place while the ponies sat in seats in the middle, sometimes standing up to dance or mingle. There was no sign of Octavia and you weren't crazy about carrying around dad’s autographed picture.
“So, who’s your partner?” The waitress asked.
“Wait, what?” Your jaw goes slightly slack.
“It is Heart’s and Hooves Day you know? Have to get couples in.” The waitress explained.
“Right, um, Octavia invited me.” You stammered.
“Oh, she’s been saying something about keeping an eye out for a stallion.” The waitress interest instantly increased. “I must tell you, she sounded very anxious for you to get here. Poor thing started to drink to calm down.”
“I’ll check on her. Thanks for the information.”
“Just make sure she isn’t doing anything silly. Last time I saw her, she had a whole bottle of wine with her.” The waitress informed before attending to a table.
You seriously hoped that Octavia can hold her liquor. Hearts and Hooves Day…Octavia, yet again, kept the total truth from you. As to why she couldn’t trust you with full details were something you couldn’t figure out. Had she told you though, you would have jumped at the opportunity. The room was pretty packed and finding Octavia in the mess was going to take some effort. You had to try though, there was a good chance she was drunk and that was begging for problems.
“I finally found you.” A seductive voice whispered in your ear.
When you turn around, it was Melody. Great, the last pony you wanted to see was one of the first. “Oh hey, I thought you were with Greg.” You attempt to back away from her, but she only keeps getting closer.
“He’s running around to fetch me a cup of wine.” Melody whispered. “That doesn’t matter now though. Mind dancing with me?”
She had been making you back into the dance floor. “Well, you see, I need to meet with a friend here.” You try to steer away from the dancing, but Melody had more leverage.
“This will be quick.” Melody whispered in your ear, her lips rubbing against your earlobe.
Due to you not wanting to dance, you allowed Melody to steer while you tried to figure out a way to slip out of this mess. Even if you had wanted to dance with Melody though, her vise grip was horrifyingly strong and she liked to dominate the movement a lot. As she leaned backwards, you had no choice but to support her from falling. Taking advantage of your hold, she quickly steadies herself and her face gets extremely close to yours.
Relying on instinct, you bend your head back a bit to avoid Melody’s attempt for the kiss. There was a look of impatience on her face; you were determined to avoid her at all cost. This didn’t stop her pace, if anything, she went faster. While you two twirled, she was bring her face closer to yours again. All the twirling was forcing gravity to push you into her, instead of apart. Another dancing couple got close and you knew you had to be quick.
You manage to slip from Melody’s vise grip and take the other mares hand while her stallion took your place. It didn’t take long for the mare to realize what you had just done.
“Where is Storm?” The mare demanded, looking infuriated by the trick you played on her.
“Over there.” You point in a random direction. She looks over to the direction to where you pointed and you slipped away from the dance floor without anypony’s notice.
After your escape from dance floor, you found that you had slipped out near where the musicians had been playing on the stage. There were a few tables around and, to your delight; Octavia had been present in one of them. Issue was that she was covering her head with her hoofs and there were about two empty bottles close to her. One looked like wine while another looked a little different. Either suffering from a bad hangover or the liquor was starting to get a firm grip on her; you decide it was best to find out yourself.
“Octavia, are you alright?” You try to sound as nice and casual as possible.
Octavia raised her head and you notice how dazed her eyes were. “Sure I am. Glad you made it.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You pick up one of the bottles that were on the table. “I see you’ve been drinking."
Octavia let out a nervous giggle, accompanied with a hiccup. “Only a little bit.”
“Maybe I should take you home?” You offer nicely.
“What? No, I’m fine.” Octavia speech was getting slurred but she couldn’t be reasoned with.
“It was just a thought.” You quickly amend, not wanting to have Octavia get angry.
Octavia’s gaze drifted off the band on the stage. “Can you play me a song?”
“Well…” Octavia’s lower lip started to tremble and you quickly change your tone. “Sure, what song will it be, Octavia?”
“The first song I asked you to play. Just call me Tavi, almost everypony does.” Octavia dreamily whispered, her lips forming a lovely smile now.
“Ave Maria, you got it Tavi.” You reply before trotting up to the stage.
The musicians looked rather surprised by your presence. “What are you doing up here?” One of the violinist mares asked.
“I’m wondering if you need a pianist and, if we could, play Ave Maria.” You inform happily.
“Sure, sit down over there.” The violinist mare pointed to the piano, stationed near Octavia’s table.
Octavia took notice of the autograph picture of your dad on the table on squealed in joy at the sight of it. A silly grin ran across your face as you saw Octavia clutch the picture close to her chest.
"I got it for you." you mutter sheepishly.
Your heart skips a beat when Octavia blows you a kiss. Even if she was a little tipsy, you couldn't help but feel hopeful.
The beauty with having more than one instrument playing a song is that it sounds so much more compelling to the ears. The deep strums of the cello, accompanied with trumpets and violins, sounded far superior then just one instruments sound. You always loved how large assortments of such different instruments are able to play all at once and still sound like a work of art. Naturally, no composer can just assemble a group and expect perfection. These things time to perfect, like a fine wine. When it was ready though, all would fall for the lovely sound the band was capable to produce.
Before you joined in with the band ponies in the room dismissed them entirely. Soon as you started to perform with the band, all eyes were on the band rather than their own individual conversations. At times, you wished there wasn’t so much attention surrounding you. Oddly enough, these were the kind of conditions that you excelled in. This was probably due to how dad used to pressure you to get every small detail perfect. You just performed to get it out of the way, rather than enjoy it.
Octavia seemed to be caught in the same trance as everypony else in the room, their eye’s fixed solely on you. With her eye’s being fogged up and slightly dazed, there’s was no knowing for what was going on in her head. Your hooves nearly slammed on the keys once you saw Melody staring at you, from a dinner table in the middle of the room. Greg had sat next to her, but she paid absolutely no attention to him. The look in her eye wasn’t just awe…it was a rather scary lust. Why was she so persistent? Does she fail to notice a stallion nearly folding up like a pretzel for her attention?
Your hooves glided of the piano keys as your mind raced with many question, having nothing to do with music. The beauty of being able to keep your craft separate from your inner thoughts was one of the few things you took pride in. No pony was to know the madness that went on in your head. They didn’t deserve or need to know either. As the song ended, the crowd of ponies stood up and clapped loudly. The band and you took a bow and it took some time for the clapping to cease.
“You’re already leaving us?” A mare playing the violin asked. The hopeful look in her eye pretty much told the tale.
“I need to keep an eye on a friend. It was fun while it lasted.” You reply quickly.
The band looked slightly crestfallen at your departure, but you didn’t really care much. Joining as the pianist for the band was only due to Octavia’s wishes, in hopes of keeping her calm. You were too busy worrying over Octavia and Melody’s creepy looks to consider having fun. Now that the song was over and you were subject to the wild, so to speak, again, part of you dearly wished you had stayed with the band.
“I must say, that was fantastic! I must know your name!” A random stallion started to shake your hooves. Soon, a small group of admirers surrounded you. Trying to see past the wall of ponies now was pointless.
“Can I have your autograph?”
“You have to give me private lessons on how to play the piano!”
“Have my baby!”
“What?” You yell in surprise at the crazy offer.
The crowd was slowly pushing you back onto the dance floor, the last place you wanted to be. You feel a hoof grab you and pull you out from the surrounding mob. They never noticed that you had slipped from the circle; a steady flow of demands could still be heard. As you turn around to thank your savior, you consider the mob to be simpler to deal with.
“Aren’t they so greedy, keeping you all to themselves?” Melody whispered in your ear.
Octavia was looking rather confused as she tried to find your location. Not wanting to upset her, you manage to steer into a small circle of dancing ponies. Melody looked like she was taking joy from your fruitless effort to avoid Octavia’s eyes.
“Why so stressed? You’re with me now.” Melody cooed.
“I really don’t have the time for this.” You reply through grit teeth.
“Make some time then.” Melody threatened.
“Greg looks like he’s got some time to spare.” You offer as Melody started to twirl herself around you.
“He’s just a pawn that I’m using.” Melody shrugged.
“You’re kidding.” Sarcasm was just oozing from your tone.
“Oh come now, it doesn’t hurt to have a little of an edge in this little competition we are having.” Melody explained, giving you a flirty wink as she lowered your hooves to her waist.
If Greg wasn’t so blinded by love, he might have noticed Melody’s mind games. If you were to point this out to him he would have probably accused you of wanting her for yourself, which was totally the opposite. The need to win the pianist position finally burned your insides, having killed off the reluctance you have felt since the start. You, personally, wanted to close the book on Melody’s charades, for good.
“I won’t let you have the spot so easy.” You whisper back to her.
“Talent versus influence and my father has much of that. If things go as planned, I won’t even need to touch a piano to get the spot.” Melody scoffed, she finally let you go. “You’ll be just icing on the cake.”
Without notice, Melody leans in and pecks you on the cheek. If you hadn’t developed such a powerful hate to her, all the heat would have risen to your face in a heartbeat. She giggles softly at you before departing.
“Are you going out with her?” A voice suddenly asked, pulling you from the chaotic mess in your mind.
Octavia had trotted by your side and looked rather unhinged. Her lower lip trembled and you knew you had to think fast. “No way, friends would be pushing it.”
“You’re lying to me!” Octavia suddenly yelled. Cold sweat starts forming on your forehead when the room suddenly goes quiet, even the band ceased playing to eaves drop. Had these ponies had nothing better to do?
“I would never lie to you Tavi.” You reply, trying to sound as calm as possible.
“Don’t call me that! I saw you dancing with her and how close you were to each other!” Octavia hissed angrily.
“Octavia, it wasn’t like I wanted to dance with her.” You started to feel like you were arguing with a wall, a rather unstable one at that.
“I don’t care! Why didn’t you ask me to dance?” Octavia’s tone shifted from anger to confusion.
“I wanted to! It’s just that, it’s been pretty hard just to get over to you.” If skating on ice was considered a hazard, what was an unstable drunk?
“It’s because you don’t like me, don’t you?” Octavia demanded, sniffling a little now.
“What? No, I like you! More than you probably know!” Why on earth you let that slip, you had no idea. If it was going to calm her down, your feelings was a small price to pay.
“Then why dance with her?” Octavia whispered in a hurt voice. It was so sad that it tugged at your heart strings, nearly tearing them out to a point.
“Please, Octavia, there wasn’t much I can do…” You stammer.
She turns her back on you and runs back to the table near the stage. As you gave chase, Octavia has whipped out dad’s signed portrait and hit you on the face with it. The crunching of the glass echoed off the walls in the silent room. Shards of glass ran down your face, luckily not cutting you to ribbons. Octavia ran for it after nailing you with the portrait. Dad’s face looked like it was laughing at you and a mixture of shame and anger boiled in your body. After picking up just the autographed picture, Octavia still wasn’t that far off.
Part of you wanted to chase after her while the other half decided it was best to leave her be, not risk her attacking you with a bottle or something. What really concerned you was that she was drunk, so anything was possible with her. Maybe somepony was kind enough to take her home, but another might take advantage of her distressed state. That lost thought didn’t sit so well with you. The crowd of ponies continued to chatter after the fiasco with Octavia unfolded. Attending this dinner party was a total nightmare and if dying of shame was possible, you would have done so already.
Against your better judgment, which hasn’t done you much good tonight, you decide to track Octavia from a distance. There was no need for her to notice you and throw something your way. No more than a blocks walk was when she stood on her hind legs and leaned against a wall for support. A mixture of pity and guilt swelled up inside you. If only you had been earlier this mess could’ve had been avoided. It was too late for that now. Octavia was the concern at hoof right now. You hesitantly trot to Octavia’s side, expecting to be assaulted by her. She made no sudden movement and you assumed your presence was accepted, for now.
“Feel better? That was a stupid question.
“No.” Octavia bitterly replied.
Rain starts to pour from the sky, causing a light drizzle. You buy off an umbrella from a vendor on the block and return to Octavia, who hadn’t move from the comforts of her wall.
You pop open the umbrella and gesture Octavia to take refuge underneath. She doesn’t make a move at first. “Look, freeze and get cold if you want, but I’m not moving.” You threaten.
Octavia sighs and finally takes refuge under the umbrella with you. Her coat was dripping wet and gave an occasional shiver as you walked down the street. Not being able to handle watching her struggle any longer you offer your jacket to keep her warm, which she graciously accepts. You knew better that Octavia would probably forget where she lived, so you decided to take the route back to your place.
A few light poles catch your attention and you stop suddenly, forcing Octavia to do the same. All this rain and the street lights reminded you of an old movie you saw, goofy as it was it was a nice memory for you.
You offer out your hoof for Octavia to grab, “I owe you a dance.”
Octavia looks around at the dripping atmosphere. “You’re joking.”
To prove your point, you close the umbrella and enjoy the sensation as the rain soaked your coat. “No, I’m serious.”
Octavia glares daggers at you and you just shrug it off. Not letting her rain on your parade, you trot up one of the light poles and start swinging around it, singing the catchy tune that was embedded in your mind from that movie. “I’m singin’ in the rain!”
At first, Octavia seemed reluctant to accompany you. It wasn’t long before Octavia cracked and grabbed hold of one of your hooves to join in on the ride.
“I’m singin’ in the rain!” Octavia chirped happily as she twirled around you.
“Why aren’t you in a chorus? You have a fantastic singing voice!” You exclaim.
“You flatter me to much!” Octavia replied, waving a clumsy hoof at you.
“Not my fault I’m just being honest!”
You and Octavia had a lot of fun in the rain, but at the price of getting a little cold and sick. The umbrella offered a temporary refuge as the rain really started to downpour. Octavia started to nuzzle you on the neck, perhaps for warmth. All you did know was that the familiar heat was returning to your cheeks again.
Once you finally pushed the door open to your house, Octavia wobbles around in the living and flops on the coach. Her mane was now dripping wet and wild, which you found all the more intriguing. You light up the fireplace, which you only used in the winter, and grabbed a blanket to cover up Octavia. As you draped the blanket over her body, she playfully tugs on her end. Having not braced yourself, you trip and fall right on top of Octavia. Your face was brought level to Octavia’s and she gave you a flirty wink as she wrapped her hooves around you in a hug.
“Stay with me.” Octavia sounded more desperate and needy then you would have ever imagined.
“Okay.”
For some reason, you felt comfortable with Octavia touching you. Whenever anypony touched you, especially Melody, it was by instinct for you to try to back off from their grasp. This was different though. You start to feel Octavia’s hind legs wrap around your back and she starts nuzzling your neck again. It was torture as you tried to restrain yourself from giving some affection back to Octavia, but you knew not to take advantage of a drunken mare. Why did you have to be such a gentlecolt? This was not fair at all, only to be made worse while Octavia started pecking you in the cheek.
Another reason that you were restraining yourself was that the situation was already dangerous, no need to make it worse. Once Octavia awoken and got sober, many questions would be coming your way. Having made out with her, without her knowing, was not one you were willing to talk about.
Your eyes flicker open rapidly. Last night’s dream was so livid. It was like Octavia was actually on the coach with you and…wait a minute. You notice that Octavia was still hugging you, showing no signs of letting go either, and memories of last night flashed through your mind. Last night was no dream that much was certain. With Octavia grabbing onto you so tightly, there was little room to wiggle free from her hold. This is not the kind of scene an unsuspecting pony would like to wake up to, if you’re into this sort of thing maybe yes.
A trickle of paralyzing fear takes over your body as Octavia’s eyes open up. Tense silence fills the room as her eyes darted from you to her new surroundings. She must’ve notice that she had her hind legs wrapped around you, for she finally let go. Once free from her grasp, you cautiously get up from the coach. The unsettling feeling you started to feel told you that Octavia had been tracking your movements with her eyes.
“What happen last night?” Octavia asked, rubbing her face with her hooves. She must be having a horrid hangover right about now.
You close the blinds before addressing Octavia. “You drank a little more then you should’ve.”
“Really, did I do something stupid?” Octavia looked mortified at the possibility of such of an event.
She didn’t need to know the whole truth, spare her from any guilt. “You…got in an argument with me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I really can’t remember much.” Octavia muttered through grit teeth, rubbing her sore forehead with her hoof.
“That tends to happen when you get carried away with drinking.” You acknowledge. “It’s best you sleep off the hangover. I’ll see if I have some aspirin left around.”
Luckily for Octavia, there were a lot of aspirins left in the little jar you had. This was mainly due to not drinking much yourself and the beauty of trying to live a laid back life. After filling up a glass of water you turn your attention to Octavia, who looked dazed now. Oddly enough, you couldn’t help but think it was cute to see how utterly confused she was at the after effects of getting drunk. It was pretty easy to see that drinking was a pretty rare thing for her, let alone get intoxicated from it.
“Here ya go, this should help out a bit.” You offer the glass of water with one hoof and pills on the other.
Octavia takes a few moments to grab them and gulped down her pills with some water quickly. She let out a sigh of relief, which told you that the pills had done their job. You take a seat on the dinner table to face Octavia, who looked a little worn out now.
“How did I get here?”
You pause for a moment and consider lying again, but consider it pointless. “I took you here because I wasn’t crazy about letting you clumsily walk around Canterlot. Last thing I need to hear is that somepony kidnapped you are something.”
“Thanks for doing that for me. It’s not often that I get carried away like that.”
“Quit beating yourself up about last night, the hangover is doing a fine job of that right now. Look on the bright side you’re with somepony you know.” You try to cheer her up.
“Yeah, um, how did we wake up like...that?” Octavia asked, a noticeable blush creeping up on her cheeks.
This is the question you been dreading all morning, running was no longer an option. “You want me to tell you everything right?” She nodded, which made you let out a sigh. “I grabbed a blanket for you, since you were so cold. While I tried to put the blanket on top of you, you grabbed your end of the blanket and pulled on it hard.” Octavia looked slightly confused, but nodded to make you continue anyway. “I didn’t have the best balance at that moment and I fell on top of you.”
Octavia looked more skeptical than ever. “Go on.”
Knowing that you’d regret this later, you continued anyway. “Now I did try to get off you, but you hugged me tightly and just wouldn’t let go. You also told me to…” Your voice trailed away into nothingness.
“Told you to do what?” Even Octavia looked anxious.
“Stay with you.” You reply in a whisper, looking into her eyes for a sign of understanding.
For the longest time Octavia’ face yielded no expression, besides her eyes widening that is. It felt like ages before she excused herself and trotted off, asking you where the showers were. You gesture to the staircase “Second floor, first right.” With a quick nod Octavia went upstairs, leaving you with your racing thoughts.
After cleaning out the fireplace and folding up the blanket, you realize that Octavia hadn’t returned from the shower. You cautiously trot up the stairs and place your ear against the door. There were no sounds of running water, which spared you from entering the room with her in there. The door to your room was slightly open, which was totally closed due to you sleeping downstairs last night.
When you pushed the door open, Octavia had been sitting on your bed with picture in her grasp. You were well aware of what and who was in the picture. It wouldn’t take long for Octavia to piece it all together, you considered her to be smart anyway.
“Is he really your…?”
“Yes.” You answer quickly, not wanting to be compared with him.
“That’s how you got the autograph so easily?”
“I wouldn’t say it was easy.” You mutter, recalling having to wait for him to quit fooling around with some mares to hand the autograph over.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Octavia asked, looking up at you know rather than the family picture.
“I rather not talk about it.” Talking about your feelings was never something you enjoyed.
“Come on.” Octavia trots to your side and playfully nuzzles your neck. “You can tell me.”
Saying a flat out “No.” to anypony who asked you this, even Roast, was easy. However, something in you couldn’t bring its self to say “No.” to Octavia. Once again, you got lost in her light purple eyes. They gave off the vibe that you could tell her everything and anything without regret. But could you? Having your feelings locked up had worked for so long, why change? Her eyes kept calling onto you though. Maybe it was time to move on.
“Um, my dad and I never really got along together. Mom isn’t around anymore to see me through life.” You explain, with every word that escaped you it carried off a weight from your heart.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Oscar looked like a nice guy.” Octavia barely whispered.
“It’s fine. Indeed, dad was decent just only around his fellow musicians and associates. When he came home, his attitude would turn for the worse.” Your voice was growing bitterer now, having remembered dealing with dad’s tantrums about your failures.
“How about your mom, was she nice to you at least?”
“More than I can ever desire.” You reply, being reduced to a whisper now. Mom was more than nice, if anything she always tried to make you laugh and smile when she herself was feeling sad.
Her cutie mark, which was a violin, was engraved in your memory for life. There was a day when she had tried to teach you to play the violin to. This was before you had own cutie mark, so you were pretty excited to have the chance to get one. Mom had the ability to make the room go silent as she played, just like you when you were on the piano. The vibe you got from her playing was a one of peace and tranquility, one that was to never to be heard again.
“Dad found out about Mom trying to teach me how to play the violin, which I was starting to get decent at. As punishment, he shattered her violin to pieces and the same with mine. Dad started to blame mom for distracting me from my piano lessons, which I despised. She always said I needed to enjoy playing and not be enslaved to it, which my dad failed to understand. He dismissed her argument and the lessons with the piano continued.” Once your story was finished, you looked up at to Octavia to only see her crying.
“I never knew…” Octavia whispered sadly.
“No one does, except you.” You reply warmly, trying to lighten up the dark mood you created.
Octavia gives you a lovely smile and does something unexpected; she kisses you on the cheek. You blush violently and so does she. A few moments pass and you two stay remotely still, staring into each other’s eyes the whole time. There was an expecting look in her eyes and you started to feel nervous.
“I think we should go to Note Theater. We need to practice.” Octavia muttered, leaving you alone in your own room.
Another golden opportunity slipped past you again. She had been waiting and expecting you to make your move. But you just kept getting lost in her eyes again. Was it that you were afraid? Or just that you lacked the guts to do it.
“Come on! We are late as it is!” Octavia called out from downstairs.
The orchestra had already been practicing when you and Octavia had arrived. Greg was nowhere to be seen. Taking advantage of his absence, the two of you slip to your positions. Melody’s eyes lingered on you as you sat behind your piano, she was already sitting there.
“Little late aren’t we?” Melody teased.
“You could say that.” You mutter grimly.
Greg had returned shortly and gave no explanation to his absence. His eyes looked blood shot. He must have had one to many as well last night. A lot of the musicians here were suffering from a hangover. One of the drummers was sleeping on his drums. It looked like you and Melody were the only ones who hadn’t drank yesterday.
The practice was terrible. A lot of the ponies had lost the concentration to handle their instrument properly. Octavia were one of the few who could play, just not to their usual level. Even Greg was unable to properly lead the group half the time, the other half was busy trying to nap.
“That’s enough. Come back tomorrow.” Greg groaned before taking a seat on one of the chairs in the Theater.
Watching the practice flop so badly wasn’t easy, having growing used to the superb talents of your fellow musicians. Many of the musicians took off, while some kept napping in their chairs. Melody hadn’t left your side. Neither of you bothered to practice, seeing how badly today was going. You took the time to smarten up on the songs you would be playing.
“I have something to ask you.” Melody turned her attention to Greg, who was trotting to your location now. “Would you mind coming out with me to dinner tonight?” You felt pity for the guy, he was so desperate.
“Sure.” Melody replied simply.
Greg shined a rare smile at her before leaving. You knew better than to believe Melody had good intentions to go along with this date.
“What’s your plan?” You question.
“You already know. I just need to cut a few loose strings.” Melody replied before leaving.
Loose strings, what could that mean? Her dad had a big influence on the ponies that run this show and Greg was just added security. Wait, was she really going to…Nah, she isn’t that cold hearted. Choosing not to worry yourself with Melody’s plan, you leave Note Theater yourself. Octavia was waiting patiently outside for you.
“I would think you would like the idea of sleeping in your own bed right about now.” You teased.
“My headache isn’t that bad.” Octavia dismissed.
A sudden thought creeps in your head and you needed to express it. “Octavia, do you have any plans for tonight?”
“Not really. Why?”
“Well, I...” Why did this have to be so hard! “was wondering if you want to have dinner tonight. Last night was a bit of a mess.”
Octavia’s eyes grew large and you braced yourself for harsh rejection. “Sure, that sounds like a plan! I’ll meet you at the place we first met. Expect me to be there at six.”
As she trots away, your eyes lingered on her flanks again. Why did they have to be so slender and well built? When Octavia finally takes a turn on the street, making you no longer to keep staring at her, you hoof pump into the air in triumph. This golden opportunity will not slip past you this time around!
Roast noticed the new spring in your step as you entered the café. His face was caught between a grin and breaking out into a fit of laughter. You could care less though, you felt like the luckiest stallion in the world.
“I see you’re pretty happy today.” Roast noted of your growing smile.
“Yep, you won’t believe who I’m taking out to dinner tonight.”
“Who are you taking out tonight?” Roast played along with your game.
“Just guess.” You could barely keep the excitement from your voice.
“Uh…”
“Octavia!” You exclaim, completely disregarding Roast’s answer.
“That gray mare, who gave you the pass to Note Theater?”
“Yeah, I feel so lucky.” You could hardly contain your smile.
“Fine job, she looks like a keeper.” Roast replied in approval. “I hope you make this first date memorable.”
“I guess you can call it a date. I’m taking her to…” Now that you thought about it, the restaurant you would bring Octavia to never crossed your mind.
“Didn’t think you’d get that far, did you?” Roast joked.
“I’d be lying if I said yes.” You admit.
“The usual cool, calm, and composed pianist has a few flaws then.” Roast continued to tease.
“I guess so.”
“How does those words taste coming out of your mouth?” Roast was relishing in your discomfort.
“Like vinegar.” You hissed angrily.
“Okay, enough picking on you. We need to think up of a restaurant.” Roast started treading back and forth continuously on the spot, squinting his eyebrows in concentration.
“How about here?” You gesture to the café’s atmosphere.
“This place is much too casual for a first date.” Roast muttered.
“She told me to meet her here though.” You informed.
“You don’t say?” Roast looked surprised at this piece of information. “Well, that could mean this will be just the meeting place or the actual place to dine.”
“What do you suggest?” You ask anxiously.
“Ugh, honestly, I’m not sure. Tell you what, ask her if she want to go either to La Palma or here.” Roast offered.
“La Palma? I don’t even know where that place is!” You let out a sigh of frustration at your lack of knowledge of such fancy eateries.
“It would be a good idea to start getting to know your environment. Anyway, don’t worry about the location for tonight. I know the mare that runs the place. She’ll be more then able to pull a few strings to get you in.” Roast explained.
“And why would she be so willing to help?”
“Easy, how do you think she learned to cook and run a business like that?” Roast asked.
“Dunno.” You shrug.
“It was me! If anything, she owes me.” Roast happily replied. “I hope you’re going to look presentable when Octavia comes.” Roast frowned at the sight of your attire.
“I got a suit back at home…which is all wet.” You grumpily mutter.
“Not to fear, I got something for you.” Roast trot to back of the store and returned shortly with a package on his back.
“That is?” You ask, pointing a hoof at the mysterious package.
“This is your attire for tonight.” Roast proudly opens the package and gestures you to look at its contents. It was an all-white suit, with a matching fedora to boot. “Should fit you fine, I’m not that much bigger then you are.”
“Come on, I can’t use your stuff.”
“I insist! First impressions are always the ones ponies look back on. Make it count.” Roast says while passing the package to you. “Besides, I need to grab something that better matches with my coat.” True, white and Roast’s light brown coat didn’t really mesh well.
“Happy to hear I get sloppy seconds.” You tease, trying on the fedora as you spoke.
“Just for that, I’m going to spill coffee all over that coat.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me! I’m not using it anymore anyway!”
Roast didn’t sabotage your white suit, but got revenge through other means later on in the day. Meaning by that is Roast poured hot sauce into your tea, without your knowing. Safe to say, it felt like somepony poured magma all over your tongue. It was close to the afternoon now and your nerves started to kick into overdrive. Would Octavia stand you up tonight?
“You look terrible. Relax, everything will be fine.” Roast reassured.
“This is my first date with any mare. I’m freaked out about failing terribly.”
“If you’re already this paranoid, imagine what’s going through Octavia’s head right now.”
“Not sure how knowing that is supposed to make me feel better.” You grumpily mutter.
“The point to what I said is that, it’s natural to be a little nervous about this. My first date was a bit of a nervous wreck for me.”
“Oh, this should be good.” You lean over the counter and exaggerate deep interest in Roast’s first date with a mare.
Roast heaved a sigh before spinning his tale. “Okay, I’ll spill. Just get off my counter will you?” Within a blink of an eye, you scoot off the counter and wait expectantly for the tale. “Believe it or not, it was a blind date.”
“You’re kidding.” You couldn’t help but figure this was just a recipe for disaster.
“I kid you not. Anyway, point is, I had no idea what the mare’s name was, let alone know how she looked. It was like walking in a room with the lights off. When the time for the date came, I was floored by how my date looked.” Roast’s eyes started to glaze over and you figured he was getting all nostalgic.
“Was this a good thing or bad thing?” You wanted to keep the flow of this story going.
“Better than good I’ll tell you right now. My friends date looked like a pile of mud next to her.”
“But you said this date was a nervous wreck for you? What went wrong?” Roast’s tale just didn’t add up right now.
“Right you are! You see, she might have looked pretty, but deep down inside, she was rude and snobby.” Roast explained, his happy nostalgic face becoming crestfallen.
“Sorry to hear that.” You try to sympathize with Roast while trying to keep your snickers suppressed.
“Nah, I learned something from that day. Beauty from the inside of the heart last forever. What was outside might be nice to look at, in reality though, those things can’t cover up how nasty a mare is.” Roast suddenly busted out into a fit of laughter.
“What’s so funny?” You demand accusingly.
“It’s not you. I just remembered how that terrible date ended. She tripped me down a flight of stairs as we left the restaurant.” Roast might have kept laughing, but you were rather worried about Roast’s lighthearted reactions on this. Something caught Roast’s attention and he immediately stopped laughing.
“What’s up Roast?” You ask anxiously. Seeing Roast’s eyes bulge slightly on further unsettled you. His only response to your question was to point his hoof to something behind you.
Wanting to know what caused Roast to get all shocked, you turn around to see what he was pointing at. Your mind falters slightly as Octavia made her way over to you. Her mane was in a ponytail, something that you’ve never seen her do before, but it’s what she was wearing that made your mind stall. The usual neckpiece she had was replaced with a diamond necklace. She had also been wearing a silvery dress that looked like it sparkled slightly.
Yesterday at the dinner party Octavia had dressed simpler, something that irked you since she told you to get a suit for the occasion. It was mindboggling how Octavia’s attire kind of gave her a glowing effect or maybe you thought her beauty was just that striking.
“Did I overdo it?” Octavia nervously asked, blushing slightly at the sight of your slack jaw and Roast’s bulging eyes.
Realizing how stupid you probably looked right about now, you regain focus and close your mouth. Roast still looked like somepony hit him over the head with a frying pan. Some of the stallions started staring at Octavia and you felt a spark of anger in your body, but chose not to act on it.
“No, you like perfect.” You quickly reassure, Roast mutely nods in approval.
“Thanks. I must say, you look pretty god yourself.” Octavia complimented, gesturing to your white suit. Part of you couldn’t help but smile sheepishly at this knowledge.
“I guess this is my cue.” Roast finally snapped out of trance and trotted outside.
He could be seen whistling loudly at something down the street. Within moments, a small carriage pulled up by a few stallions at the front of the café. Octavia’s eye’s grows large with awe while you couldn’t begin to express your gratitude to Roast.
“You’re ride is here.” Roast yelled after poking his head through the open front doors.
Octavia smiles up at you before heading outside. While Octavia was helped up into the carriage, your attention shifted to Roast.
“I can’t thank you enough.”
Roast just waves your thanks away. “Promise me this date won’t be a nightmare like mine was.”
“I won’t let you down!”
“Get in already!” Octavia called out from within the chariot.
“You heard the lady, get a move on. Just ask for the owner and mention me, she’ll know.” Roast pushed you into the carriage a little forcefully and slammed the door shut behind you.
The ride to La Palma was surprisingly quick. Perhaps this was due to you and Octavia poking fun at Greg’s obsessive manner over Melody. Mentioning Melody though had a thought provoke your mind. Octavia got into a fit about her while she was drunk, were those feelings hiding dormant in her heart? For now, Octavia looked perfectly happy now and that was enough for you. The buildings that passed by you started to slow down and you push open the carriage door. Once you were out of the carriage you helped down Octavia, who seemed all too excited to grab your offering hoof.
Wow. That pretty much the only way to define how La Palma looked. Like other buildings in Canterlot, it stuck with the white pristine marble to make the building. However, the tropical palm trees here made the place stand out. In a way, Palma gave of a tropical vibe. When you and Octavia enter La Palma, saying this place gave a tropical vibe would do it no justice. There was a large assortment of plants that were foreign and a large glass dome made up the roof. For all you know, you just stepped into the heart of a jungle.
“This must be your first time here. New customers always have that “Oh my gosh.” look on their face.” A mare concluded. Looking down at Octavia, she too was amazed by the place’s atmosphere. “You can say that. Would you happen to know the owner of this place?”
“Depends, who’s asking?”
“I’m a friend of Roast. He told me this would be a great place to take Octavia to dinner.” You answer.
“Roast eh? I do really need to drop by his place again. If that’s the case, you must be Mr. Piano Man.” The mare now analyzed with interest.
Mr. Piano Man was a nickname Roast bestowed on you long ago. “That I am. Take it Roast talks about me?”
“Mhm, he talks about your talents like no tomorrow. Last time I seen him, I told him to keep a sock in it before I did it for him.” The mare recalled. “Anyway, I’ll take you to your seats.”
There were a whole lot of ponies around, many of which were entranced by the environment as much as you and Octavia were. Dread stained your positive mood when you noticed a couple sitting near an empty table. It was Melody and Greg, who looked terribly nervous. The table you and Octavia were to be sitting at just had to be next to them. This date might end up worse than Roast’s first. Hopefully they won’t notice you.
“Hey there Octavia, are you going to be eating dinner here with him?” Your hopes were quickly dusted away with Greg’s question.
“Yes, I am. How are you two doing?” Octavia noticed Melody’s strained smile and she faltered slightly.
“Oh, it’s okay. Greg was just indulging me in some facts about what show’s he composed for.” It wasn’t all that hard to see that Melody was pretty bored by Greg’s rambling.
“Yeah, well, have a good one.” You interject, not wanting to deal with the estranged pair anymore.
You settled yourself at the other table and Octavia accompanies you. The owner of La Palma handed you the menu’s and did a little bow before leaving to check on other customers. Octavia just wanted a salad while you decided to have some soup. While you two were waiting, Melody and Greg started to get a little loud.
“I guess they aren’t having much fun.” Octavia whispered, not wanting to be overheard by the troubled couple.
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t escalate.” You reply, trying to keep your voice low as possible as well.
“What nerve!” Greg yelled shrilly.
The room went silent at his sudden outburst. Much to your displeasure, Greg joined the table you and Octavia had been sitting in. He had taken a seat next to Octavia and you started to feel a little bothered.
“Um, not to sound rude, but we were having dinner together.” Octavia muttered, her tone getting a little defensive and her features looking a little annoyed.
“Don’t worry dear, I won’t be long.” Greg threw Melody a dirty look. After his little episode with Melody, you barely blamed him. “Uh, Octavia, I know this isn’t the best time to bother you, but I need to talk with you about a certain issue.”
“Can’t it wait?” Octavia pleaded a little desperately.
Greg glanced at you before turning to Octavia. It wasn’t his usual “I don’t like you” look he had specially reserved for you. No, now it was a look of spite and even deeper loathing. What did Melody say and do to him?
“I guess it can wait tomorrow.” Greg shrugged and left your table.
Melody didn’t look remotely fazed by Greg’s actions. In fact, she looked happier then you had ever seen her now. This did nothing to make you feel better, seeing that smile only foretold problems ahead. Let’s face it Melody wasn’t one to smile unless it came at the expense of others.
Unfortunately, Melody’s and Greg’s talks both affected you and Octavia for the worse. She looked nervous at what might be waiting for her once she had to talk to Greg. No matter how many times you told her not to fuss over it, she only grew more upset and paranoid about it. Your worries about what was the reason behind Melody’s smiling barely showed, but it did make you feel a little uneasy.
The food might have been delicious, but it was easy to tell that Octavia had too much on her mind to enjoy herself much. When a waiter asked about dessert, you asked for a sundae. At least end the night on a sweet note. Once the sundae came, the waiter must have told the chiefs in the back about this being for a couple. There were two cherries on top of the whip cream, one more than usual.
You recall a moment with your mom when she took you out to the ice cream parlor once. Cherries were never really your thing, so mom would always eat the ones you left behind. There was a day when mom indulged you in a fun contest with the cherry.
“If you can make a knot with the cherry steam in your mouth, you’re a good kisser.” Your mom said.
Your reaction was naïve, natural of a colt your age that day, of course. “Kissing? That’s mushy and weird.”
“You'll be singing a different tune on that subject soon enough.” Mom teased.
Remarkably, mom pulled off the little trick multiple times while you could hardly do one. It took until your teens to get decent at doing knots with the stem. Mom’s performance was something you couldn’t live up to.
With those fond memories fresh on your mind, you submit your challenge. “Hey Octavia, got a fun little game for you.”
“And that is?” Octavia sounded interested and this only made you feel more confident.
“Let’s see who ties a knot on their cherry stem fastest. Winner has bragging rights on being the better kisser.”
“You’re on.”
Octavia quickly eats her cherry and starts playing around with the steam in her mouth before you could even grab your own. She might have had an early start, but you were determined to make it just that. With so many years of doing this, it was rather easy for you to manipulate the stem to your will. You note the frustrated look on Octavia’s face and you figure she was never issued this sort of challenge before.
Just as you opened your mouth to show her the fruits of your labor, she too opened hers. That earlier show of a struggle was a clever ruse that you fell for. Credit needed to be given when it’s due, she got you good. However, it was kind of hard to tell who won, it was just that close.
“I won!” Octavia chirped happily.
“Nope, I got you on this one. It’ll take more than beginners luck to beat me.”
“Oh yeah,” Octavia leaned her face closer to yours, her beautiful eyes capturing your attention again. “prove it.”
Without hesitation, Octavia kissed you on the lips. Her tongue greedily pushed against your lips, demanding entrance. You allow her tongue to mingle with your tongue and you start to playfully wrestle with hers .The fresh cherry taste, which had been mixed with another type of berry, was evident in her tongue and was a taste you wanted more of. If the table between you two hadn’t acted as a barrier while one of you tried to lean deeper into the kiss, you would probably have been sticking to each other like glue.
To make up for the lack of getting any more leverage in the kiss, you started stroking Octavia’s mane as lovingly as possible. Little moans escaped Octavia’s lips and this only made you feel giddier. Octavia suddenly pulls back from the kiss and a speck of saliva connects to your mouths. If she was blushing that hard, you can only imagine how you fared.
“I don’t need beginners luck.” Octavia whispered seductively.
“I take it that the date went well?” Roast asked while you skipped into the café the next day.
“Went well? Ha, better than I ever could imagine!” You make a beeline to the counter and happily bang at it.
Roast eye’s your banging and you immediately stop. “Good. I heard from Rose things started rough though.” Your happy go lucky smile flips upside down. “Don’t remind me, Melody and Greg’s date fell apart and Greg ended up sitting by us for a bit. Who is this Rose anyway?”
“Rose is the owner of La Palma. Why do you think the place had so many darn plants?” Roast asked this question like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“That might explain a lot.” You reply gruffly.
“What happen after the dinner date?” It was easy to tell this is what Roast really wanted to know.
You couldn’t suppress the blush that filled your cheeks. “Well I walked her back home and that’s pretty much it.” Roast didn’t buy your weak story. “Lies, there is more to it.”
“There is...it’s just.” How odd it was, not being able to tell Roast anything about last night. He was one of the few ponies you would trust with anything, even your life. But this was a touchy subject.
“It’s fine, talk about when you feel like you’re ready.” Even if Roast gave an understanding nod, he still looked a little down.
Feeling guilty never suited you. Dad really capitalized on that weakness of yours whenever you would miss a note as a kid. Seeing dad sigh and gave a disapproving shake of his head ate away at what little confidence you had. It was when you finally started to respect yourself a little more is when dad’s disappointment didn’t drag you down so much. He must have realized that, since he started threatening you if you refused to play. Through the whole mess, all you wanted was your dad’s approval. But that seemed like such a distant goal now.
The last and only show your dad came to see you in was a simple band show back at school. That was to be the day when dad was going to finally give the recognition you ever so wanted. Sadly, during one of the last songs of the show, you slipped up. No, it wasn’t to the point where every pony would mummer about your mistake. So small and easily could be missed from all the other instruments playing and with a novice ear for music. However, dad was no novice in the slightest. It broke your heart to see his long face at the end of the show. Mom offered praise, like she always did, but dad remained stony faced.
Last night’s ending was nothing compared to you and Octavia’s little make out session. Still, the walk to her house was a pleasant one. She had complimented you and your skills on the piano while you two walked. Her compliment really caught you off guard. Many ponies complimented you on your skills, but this coming from Octavia meant a lot more to you.
The outside of her house looked a lot any of other buildings in Canterlot, in all its white marble glory. Octavia gave you a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before going in. What were the looks inside of her home would remain a mystery to you. Maybe you just couldn't tell Roast how anticlimactic the ending of the date was or just part of you wanted to keep that memory to yourself.
“I can’t thank you enough Roast for last night.” You mutter after a moment’s silence.
“Think nothing of it lad. Anyway, shouldn’t you be practicing?”
Your eyes shoot wide open in horror. “Uh…”
“I would get moving if I were you.”
No sooner does Roast finish his sentence is when you pushed through the doors and made a mad dash to Note Theater. This is the last thing you needed, to be late and make Melody look superior over you. One thing was in your favor, even if it wasn’t much. Greg was pretty annoyed with her right now. It wasn’t much to grab at, but it’s better than thinking negatively. For some reason, the Note Theater bared no sound today. No sounds of instruments penetrated through the walls and spilled all over the busy streets of Canterlot. You couldn’t help get your hopes up at the idea you might be early, even earlier than the rest. All the instruments were left on the stage, which wasn’t new.
You settle at the seat behind the piano and look around the stage, your eyes finally resting where the cellist would play. More than ever, you wanted an audience present. Not a large one, just Octavia would do. The song sheets had been left on your piano and you take the time to practice a bit. After what felt like hours, playing on the piano started to get tiresome. There wasn’t a pony that entered the Theater while you practiced. Had you been late or maybe Greg was just to down in the dumps to bother showing up today?
“A workaholic like you even needs a break.” A rather frilly voice interrupts your focus.
Melody could be seen trotting down the Theater and making her way to you. Anger and spite flows through your veins at the sight of her. “Had fun breaking hearts yesterday?”
“Oh, don’t sound so mean about that. You know as well as I do that Greg has little to say about who becomes the pianist. Besides, I thought Greg and you didn’t like each other. Why feel bad for how I treated him?”
True, Greg and you weren’t on the best terms. “That is true.” It suddenly occurred to you that you didn’t know what lead to Greg’s outburst. “By the way, what did you do to him?”
“Idiot tried to kiss me when I was looking at you and Octavia having so much fun.” Melody muttered darkly. “After that, I told him to back off. He believed that he could get me the pianist spot with ease. I told him he was a no talent scrub after that.”
“I would think that would tick off anypony. Sad to hear how about what Greg did.” You reply, actually starting to feel a little bad for Melody now.
“No matter, I got my message through his egotistical head.” Melody took a seat by your side and made no move to start rubbing your leg, so you don’t try to scoot away from her. “Look at that, you’re actually sitting next to me without nearly falling of this chair.”
“Don’t make me consider it. Speaking of sharing seats and piano’s, why don’t you use the other one?”
Melody shoots a glance at the black piano you gestured to. “Well, I’ve actually heard you play before. I wanted to get a closer look while you played, figured this would be my only chance at such an opportunity.”
You couldn’t help but rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “I’m not that great.”
“Oh, come now.” Melody brought her face closer to yours. “We both know your underrating yourself.”
“I haven’t seen you play yet. For all I know, you could start giving me lessons.”
Melody started laughing and stopped when she noticed how serious you looked. “Didn’t I tell you I needed to rely on my dad’s influence to get the spot?”
You simply nod, knowing this was true.
“I need to tell you something.” Melody whispered. The front doors of the Theater could be heard opening and you tilt your head to see who it might be, only to be held in place with Melody’s firm hooves.
“What?” You reply a little impatiently, trying to tilt your head to see who walked in.
“Come closer.” Melody pleaded, she sounded a little desperate. You roll your eyes but do as told. “Closer.” If you had gotten any closer, your muzzles would be bumping into each other.
“Enough games, just tell me already.” You demanded while a mares voice could be heard, she sounded awfully familiar to you.
Melody leans in and, before you know it, is kissing you on the lips. Unlike with Octavia, you didn’t feel entranced or let alone enjoyed the feel of Melody’s lips. To your horror, you could see the mare, who had been speaking before, was none other than Octavia, Greg accompanying her. You push aside Melody, who let out a shriek at your sudden actions, and quickly try to get over to Octavia.
Tears were gracing her face and you started to feel like a monster for doing this to her. Greg was giving you an uglier look then he has ever thrown your way. He was the least of your worries though. All that mattered right now was explaining the situation to Octavia.
“Octavia, please, I can explain.” You beg desperately, trying to grab her hoof to reassure her.
She pulls her hoof from your grasp and you know better not to pursue. Her hoof rises into the air and descends to smack you right on your jaw. Once her hoof makes contact with your jaw, you can’t help but remember how dad would vent his frustration on you this way at times, a loud crack echoes through the Theater. A burning feeling starts to form where Octavia had slapped you.
“I trusted you!” Octavia whimpered, her voice cracking which only made you feel even worse.
Without notice, she turns her back on you and runs for it. Every fiber of your body screams at you to go after her. But you knew better, seeing you again would only make her feel worse. Had it been only yesterday that the both of you shared that tender moment? It felt so distant now. The warm and beautiful look of her eyes was now replaced with sadness and confusion and it was your entire fault.
“You,” All the rage in your heart targeted Melody, who wore a sly smile. “you planned this from the start you witch!”
Melody threw you a casual wink and left the Theater as well. She laughed and this only further annoyed you. Without thinking, you blindly charge at Melody and was stopped short by Greg. Instead of his usual angry look her reserved for you; he now looked down at you in pity.
“Being used to?”
This was more than you can bear. The only mare you cared and looked forward to seeing to everyday… gone. For the first time in ages, you broke down and cried. Dad always said that was for the weak and deserved what they got. Mom believed that crying cleansed the soul of sorrow and guilt. More than ever, you hoped she was right. Greg let you calm yourself down, which took a fair amount of time.
“That’s enough. Nothing is going to get better if you just sit here and cry.” Greg snapped, sounding a little gentler to you than usual.
“She hates my guts right now! What can I do?” You choke out before breaking into renewed tears.
“What can you do? No, what you should do is what you need to ask.” Greg helped you back up and gave you a firm pat on the back.
“Do I have a chance?”
Greg opened his mouth and closed it. He knew how much weight his next few words will carry for you. “Yes, go down trying at least.”
Usually, it was Roast who you would lean on for advice. Not this time though. The only pony that could give you a fighting chance was…
“Nate!” You shout once you storm into the Musicians Friends store.
The blind stallion had been sitting near a piano behind the counter. He looks mildly frustrated before addressing you.
“Octavia just dropped by.”
Your heart feels like it would shrivel up and die. “So, you know?”
“Yes.”
All hope had disappeared into nothingness. “I didn’t want this to happen.” You let out a sigh and slam your face against the glass counter. The glass cracks under your cheeks but this was the least of your cares.
“Get your face off my counter.” Nate actually pulls you by the mane and brings your face level to his. He might be blind, but this didn’t seem to hinder him at all. “I have hope for you.”
“You believe that I had no intention for that to happen?” You couldn’t help but feel relieved.
“I believe that you’re the right one for her. So, yes, I guess I have to believe your story.” Nate muttered and let go of your mane.
“I have to talk to her, explain that this isn’t what I wanted.”
“She is either heading home or taking refuge with a friend. Worse comes to worse is that…” Nate trails off and shudders.
“Nate, please, I need to know where she might go.”
“She might be in a club drinking away.”
Okay, now you could see why Nate was nervous at the idea. “Thanks. Any good guesses about her friend?”
“Vinyl is a mare that comes to mind. You could also try Juliet and Amber. However, I think Octavia and Vinyl are closer friends.” Nate informs.
“How can you tell? What does Vinyl do anyway?” How Nate was able to dissect information with just his ears was amazing.
“The tone of their voices says everything. It sounded more friendly and caring. Similar to how Octavia addresses me and you. Vinyl is a DJ that plays here every once in a while.” Nate’s eyes look glazed over, a gray film lingering around as well. This didn’t stop him from giving a rare smile.
“A DJ, that only means that…”
“Yes, Vinyl will be keeping an eye over Octavia if she ends up in a club.”
“Should I worry about that?” Since you had close to no idea how Vinyl was, you braced for the worse.
“If you consider the situation now, yes, this could be something to worry about. I wouldn’t worry much about Vinyl, she mainly works in Ponyville.”
“I can’t thank you enough Nate.” You really meant this as well.
“Get going.” Nate shooed you away and turned his attention to his piano.
Checking out Octavia’s house seemed like the smartest move right now. Perhaps she’d have the sense in drinking inside the comforts of her house, rather than going to a club? All this wishful thinking is mainly due because you don’t want to contend with a drunk Octavia in public again. You are able to recall the entire route to Octavia’s house by memory alone. As if it would be a crime to let such small details slip through your mind.
The small water fountain in the park, a tree that had pleasant chirping birds in their nest, Note Theater, all these little things helped you find your way to Octavia’s. Finding her house might have been easy if it actually stood out in Canterlot. While standing at her front door, two things dawn on you. First is that you’re shaking slightly and second that there were small lines of a light purple around the frames of windows and doors on her house. It had her flare while remaining truly traditional to the Canterlot setting. You give yourself a little shake to fight of your nerves; this doesn’t help, and anxiously knock the door.
There wasn’t a sound of shuffling from within the house to get to the door. She was ignoring your efforts, but you weren’t going to give up. You give another patient knock and wait a little longer, pressing your ear against the door now to pick up any sound. There was a click of a lock and the door sprang open. Without the door supporting your stance, you fall flat on your face on the wooden floor of Octavia’s home.
“Ugh, it’s you again.” Yep, she was still pissed off. There was a noticeable slur in her words, your previous assumptions were right.
You raise your head up and look into Octavia’s eyes, which glared dagger at you. “Can we talk? I need to explain myself.”
“Let me think about that.” Octavia mockingly tapped her chin a few times. “No!”
She slams the door on your face. The pain was nearly unbearable and you covered your face with your hooves, hoping to protect yourself from another attack. “I won’t move until you hear me out Octavia.”
“That’s a shame then. Hope you’re not fond of your face then.” Octavia whispers before slamming the door on you again.
Did you deserve this abuse? Probably not, this was all Melody’s fault. Well, no, it was yours to. You should run at the sight of her entering the Theater. So much regret and guilt was settling in your heart. Was this going to be the story of your life? Always looking back, wondering what could have been if you performed correctly? Dad was right; being perfect had its rewards. Nopony could blame you if nothing was wrong about you. However, mom was annoyed with the idea of you being perfect.
“Perfect? That’s impossible! Making mistakes is normal! Even you and I mess up!” Mom snapped at dad one day.
“That’s why I want him to try! Make his standards for much more superior to his contenders!” Dad snapped back.
“Oh please, for what? Sacrifice what little self-dignity he has for music? You want him to be a slave to music?”
Their screaming and yelling was so loud. They had no idea that you laid wide awake in your bed upstairs, listening to every word of their dreadful conversation. Your temple ached terribly due from dad smacking the back of your head, which forced your head to bounce off the piano keys, when you refused to play A flat major. Mom wasn’t to know and, frankly, it felt pointless to snitch.
“Not a slave, I want to mold him into a master of it.” Dad responded gruffly.
“All right, fine, he might become talented beyond measure. At what price? The two of you don’t exactly get along.” Mom hissed back.
There was a moment of silence. Seemed like mom hit dad in a place where he never expected.
“I’m doing him a favor.”
“That’s what you call it? For shame Oscar, be a real father to him for once. I promise you, it won’t hurt.”
A slight cough cuts through the tense air. “I see your health isn’t getting much better.” Dad says grimly.
“Ha, I plan to live a very long life, far longer then you. Besides, I want to see our boy grow up.” Mom let another cough slip out.
“Let’s see about that.”
Was mom seeing this? Was she crying? Was she mad at your failure to remain loyal? Did she dearly hope that dad would have improved? In a way, you became the monster mom didn’t want you to become. Cold, calculating, in a love-hate relationship with the piano, this was you. The only thing that brought joy in your life was smashing your face in with a door. Wait, Octavia wasn’t slamming the door on you now.
Celestia knows how many time she hit you before you returned from memory lane. All you knew was that your face ached with all the punishment that came your way today. You rub your face with your hoof to relieve some of the throbbing and see any signs of blood. Nope, your coat was free of the substance.
“Are you done yet?” Your eyes shoot up and see Octavia standing there, looking down at you with a look of annoyance.
“Don’t make me consider doing it again.” Octavia lashed back coldly.
You laugh at the bitter idea. “Like I said, I’ll wait all day.”
“Fine, get up.” Octavia turned her back on you and walked to the dining room.
Getting up was surprisingly easy, the headache you’ve been given was of the only hindrance. Still, you slowly follow Octavia into the dining room. There was a fairly large chandelier hanging over the table and a rather pristine carpet graced the floor. A few bottles of wine had lingered on top of the table, which made you feel a little nervous. Octavia took a seat at the head of the table and stared at you while you take a seat across the table.
“Well, explain yourself.”
You let out a sigh. “I didn’t know if there was a practice at the Theater today. Naturally, I didn’t want to be late so I came anyway. While I was practicing alone, she came.”
“Melody?”
“Yeah, she took a seat by me as usual and started to talk about her failed date with Greg. Wasn't long before she caught me off guard and you know...”
“What was the deal with their date anyway?” Octavia’ expressions barely softened, but you felt happier anyway.
“Greg offered Melody the pianist spot and he tried to kiss her. Melody got annoyed, called him a no talent scrub, and you know the rest.”
“That’s kind of sad, trying to win her over with the position. She hasn’t even played in practice yet!”
You couldn’t suppress a faint grin. Even when Octavia was mad, she still defended you in some way. “To be fair, I haven’t played yet either.”
“Not your fault that Greg can’t pull himself together.” Octavia grinned a little at the dismay of Greg’s failures. “If you had the chance to play though, everypony would fall in love with your skills.” Octavia might have complimented you, but her face was showing no signs of friendliness.
“You flatter me to much Octavia. I can never see what other ponies see in me.”
“Never notice the comforting and delicate feeling in the air when you play?”
“Shame I don’t feel none of those when I play.”
Octavia’s eyes gave away the concern she had for you now. “What do you feel when you play?”
“Feelings of bitter memories and guilt are all I feel when I play.” You reply sadly.
“I don’t understand.” Octavia whispered.
“No pony does. Since I’m going to be honest, I didn’t enjoy the way I was trained to play the piano.”
“Why didn’t you try something else if you didn’t enjoy it?”
“Dad wanted me to become a pianist. I had no choice but to go with it.” You explain.
“Was it really that bad?”
You can only manage to nod. She didn’t need to hear about how he yelled and hit you through all those years.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” There was no pity in her tone, it was sincere.
“Eh, dad wasn’t all the supportive. I guess the worst part of it all was that…” Again, she didn’t need know your sad tale of your mothers passing.
Surprisingly, Octavia got up and took a seat right next to you and even more so when she grabbed your hooves. “Please tell me.” Her eyes said it all, how she was willing to be there for you and will try to understand.
“Mom was ill when she first saw me perform on a school show. It was only a few weeks after that is when she…” You couldn’t say it, you never could. Admitting it made the pain of your lose feel worse. A hoof starts rubbing your neck and the will to keep talking flares up again. “When she was gone, he only got worse. No pony could tell him to take it easy.”
Why did she have to leave you with dad? Part of you was angry with her, for not taking action against him, while the other part felt pity that even she couldn’t talk sense into your old man. All her efforts were in vain, you became the monster that dad wanted you to become. You start to sob into the wooden surface of the table, not having the courage to face Octavia anymore.
“I’m really sorry about everything Octavia. You know how much I hate Melody. Can you please forgive me?” You beg while continuing to sob.
There was a moments silence and the gentle hoof around your neck tightened. Was she going to snap your neck? Another warm hoof wraps around neck and Octavia pulls you into a hug. Her warm delicate coat rubs against yours. You could hear the soft heartbeat of hers and wonder vaguely if Octavia can hear yours.
“I forgive you.” Octavia gives you an affectionately nuzzles on your neck before squeezing your neck tightly. “Try not to let that happen again will you?”
“I’m all yours.” You manage to reply with what little oxygen Octavia allowed you to breathe in.
Maybe the next time when you play on the piano, you too will feel the comfort and delicate energy Octavia was talking about. There was still hope. Dad hadn’t taken all your self-dignity. As long as Octavia guided you, there was hope for somepony like you.
Just when you finally work up the courage to return Octavia’s hug, a faint snore interrupts the still silence in the room. Poor thing, she had a fair amount of wine before and it didn’t help she used your chest and neck as a pillow. This was fine. At least she was coherent when you begged for forgiveness. If she hadn’t, getting your face crushed would have been a pointless sacrifice. You wonder vaguely how bad Octavia had injured you and you wanted to see yourself in a mirror to figure out what the deal is. She might have looked so peaceful when sleeping, but now she was blocking you from getting up from the chair.
Not having the heart or nerve to wake her up, you slowly manage to shift Octavia’s body on your back and rise from the chair. Octavia let out an adorable yawn and wrapped her hooves around your neck tightly, as if afraid to let go. As long as she didn’t start to strangle you, this was more than acceptable. The venture to the second floor took longer than you would have liked. Reason for that was mainly because you were terrified of waking up the precious cargo on your bag, who was gently rubbing her cheeks at the back of your neck for some time.
The inside of Octavia’s home is really the opposite of the outside. There was no hint of marble anywhere indoors. In fact, cheery wood covered the walls and a rather luxuries carpet and some wood tiles shared the floor. A few potted plants lingered about, none of which hanged in the air. Considering how often Octavia travels in her line of work, how in the world did these plants survive? That was a question that could wait for later. A room to your left features a bed and you figure this is where Octavia sleeps.
Something in you stops yourself from entering her room at first. Deep down you knew that entering her room, without her permission, wasn’t right. But, it was either enter or ditch her on her coach. You hesitantly enter her room, fully expecting Octavia to start yelling at you for entering her domain. When nothing comes you allow yourself to take a sigh of relief. Octavia gives your neck a playful squeeze before letting out a soft snore again. What was she dreaming about?
You move aside the crisp white sheets of the bed and slowly manage to slip Octavia in her bed. When trying to snuggle Octavia in her bed, she playfully grabs one of your hoofs and hugs it tightly. First, she hugged your neck and now this. You made it a point to ask Octavia about her dreams today later in the future. After coaxing Octavia to squeeze a stray pillow rather than your hoof, you turn your attention to the room you were in.
Yet again, the familiar feeling of trespassing crossed your mind. This was immediately shoved off considering Octavia herself was poking through your room a few days ago. Besides, judging from her light snoring and how many empty wine bottles sat at the dinner table, Octavia won’t be awake by the next morning. There was a window that showed a pleasant view of park a few blocks away, a cello case along with a bow, a few notebooks lying neatly on a small work desk. The carpet on the floor bore resemblance to Octavia’s coat color. Simple white paint graced the walls.
Those notebooks were really starting to catch your eye often, though. Did they just hold regular music sheets or something a little more personal? You let curiosity get the better of you and start skimming through one of the notebooks, to get a general feel what was to be offered. Surprisingly, no noticeable signs of musical notes were available. Instead, a rather elegant cursive writing graced the crisp white pages of the notebook. Had you just bumped into her diary?
Another annoying feeling of trespassing ebbs into your mind. This time, it came with a vengeance. Sure, Octavia seeing the only picture that was with only you and dad. What made catching this picture even more rare that the both of you were smiling, not a forced one either. He had invited an old friend of his over to dinner and he brought his wife along as well. After you excused yourself from the dinner table, you returned to your daily grind with the piano. Harmony, father’s friend’s wife, had seen you leave and trotted after you, making the others follow suit to her.
The piano was situated at the living room and you set to work. Oddly enough, you played Ave Maria that day to. Funny how that song cropped up so often in your life and still weren’t to fully grasp what the song tried to convey. To some, it was beauty while others may argue it had religious weight to it. Honestly, to you, all this little whining of its meaning was rather pointless, at the time. All that you desired was to get it down pact and move on to another long song, hopefully something jazzy.
Harmony had poked her head in the room and you instantly notice her, ceasing to play immediately at the sight of her. She interrupts your mutters of apology by asking you to play again…for her. Dad was usually the only audience member, an unpleasant one at that. Having Harmony was a nice change. When the song was finally over is when you realized that dad had a hoof on your shoulder and gave you a rare smile, which you happily returned.
Two things you learned that day. One was that lyrics can only do a song so much justice. The pure harmonic notes formed together from countless instruments are far superior to any voice. Secondly, that was that first time you realized that not everypony shared the same opinion on your talent like dad. Many were amazed a colt your age reached that level of skill. If they could only see you now… what would Harmony say? Would she to ask you to play Ave?
A small chuckle escapes you at the thought. Octavia was doing that job for her just fine. Turning your attention back at the notebook in your hooves, the words within had the vibe as if it belonged in a song. Perhaps it was just to sing?
Pull the strings of my cord, like how he pulls the strings of my heart.
With a rub of my bow, I’ll soothe the pains.
Once I stop, I find I’m back where I began.
After putting two and two together, the lyrics were pointing at you. Guilt and deep sadness course through your veins. She must have jotted this down before drinking her pains away. You cast a glance at Octavia, wondering if there was still some spite between you two. She had forgiven and tried to understand your begging. Not wanting to look at those crushing words anymore, you flip through the book for earlier entries. This one had a more happy tone to it.
With a flap of its wings, the dove takes flight to the skies.
That’s where I feel I am right now.
Hearts a flutter and I wouldn’t dare consider looking down.
Only a page separated this song from the previous one. Was the song referencing the date you two shared? A slight blush consumes your cheeks and your glade Octavia isn’t awake to see this. After placing the notebook of lyrics back on the desk, the other thick notebook pleaded for your attention now. This must’ve been Octavia’s diary.
Cold sweat and a slight shake starts to take your body hostage. The shaking sunk straight into your very bones and the sweat dripping down your forehead felt cold as ice. What was in store for you in this book? If your assumptions were correct, things were going to get more complicated. The book bared no lock, which didn’t help the situation much. After cautiously opening the book and checking the first few pages, the previous guess of this being a diary was spot on. Octavia’s elegant writing graced every page. Some entries weren’t much of a big deal, talking about how the band was performing and thoughts on the performances.
One entry did catch your eye. It mainly described how she was in a café and how a piano player was able to play such beautiful and complicated songs without much hassle. What was interesting about this entry was that it was a few weeks before Octavia had invited you to Note Theater and that it ended with a question.
Does he ever notice me?
Sadly, it took until her confrontation with you to finally notice Octavia. After that, your eyes could never stop getting enough of her. Now that she had your undying attention, what’s next? You glance over to Octavia, who was still in deep sleep, and trot over to her to plant a kiss on her forehead before leaving.
“How did it go with Octavia?” Nate asked while he sorted through the cash register.
“Honestly, how did you know it was me?” You mutter while closing the door behind you.
“That door knocks against a bell to let me know if a pony enters. Secondly, it’s getting kind of late and must of my work is through orders.” Nate explained, turning his attention to his piano now.
“Well, it went better than I expected.”
“I take it you’ve been forgiven?” Nate put two and two together pretty fast.
You give a simple nod and nearly hit yourself since Nate can’t see your silent approval. “Yeah, she let me off the hook.”
“Excellent. Now, if you have the time, mind playing a bit?” Nate gestured to the general direction of his piano.
“I owe you that much. What song?”
“Do you know Fly Me to the Moon?” Nate asked eagerly.
“Of course I do.” You reply once you take your position behind Nate’s piano.
“Think you got a shot against Melody?”
The question threw you off, but not enough to affect the concentration you had on the piano keys. “I guess. How did you know about Melody?”
“Greg came by here a while back about a song list I could help make for him. He mentioned that Melody’s father was pushing to get her in the orchestra.” Nate answered.
You can’t bring yourself to keep playing now that you remembered why Melody was so smug on getting her spot. “Does her dad really have that much influence?”
“Money talks, so anything can happen.” Nate replies sadly.
You slump your shoulders and slam on the lowest note available on the piano. The note only adds fuel to the already tense and grim environment. “I can’t do it.” As the words of bitter defeat slipped off your tongue you can’t help but wonder how you convinced yourself that beating Melody in the first place was possible.
“That’s no way to talk. You were just nailing that song. Talent can and will win out. You just need the confidence to keep going.” Nate propped a folder full of songs on them on top of the piano. “These are the songs you’ll need to play. I advise you take a look at them.”
“It’s pointless.”
“Pointless? That would be the case if you just lay down on your back and accepted this. You’ll need to fight for this spot with all you got. And now you got reasons to fight for it. Anger is one dangerous motivator.” Nate took a seat by you and his gray eyes pierced your very soul. “We got work to do.”
You pick your head up and see Nate's eyes reflecting your confident smile. "That we do."
