The idea of a slumber party, or sleepover, exited Octavia. Even though she had never done one or been to one, Octavia had always wanted to do one. While some may consider both of them too old to do it, Vinyl didn't seem to care and continued on with her preparations for the ‘ultimate sleepover’, a night that Octavia will never forget. Seeing as Octavia had never done one, she was stuck wandering around the building on her own while Vinyl set her office up to accommodate their needs. Octavia didn't think that the office should really be considered one with how much Vinyl was able to change it up for the sleepover.
Not knowing where anything was, Octavia gravitated toward the one place she did know that would occupy her. Eventually she was standing in front of the door to the music room, or her office, more so, from what seemed to have been implied. The door creaked a bit as Octavia opened it, but she didn't notice as the overwhelming emotion from seeing the beautiful cello enveloped her. She almost floated to the instrument, itching to try it out.
But deep inside her she knew that trying to play wouldn't go well. Her motivation and skill throughout the past few months had felt like they were going to be nonexistent any moment. The sounds she could ease out of her cello used to flow in and out of everyone's ears, enrapturing them in the moment at hand. Nothing would matter at that point, it would just be her, the cello, and the audience in a almost too private conversation through music.
Any small children brought along suddenly stopped whining, anyone complaining about how long it was taking to get started, really anything that was remotely negative ceased once she began. Her songs would feel like they'd never end, sometimes even causing attendees to fall asleep. She didn't mind, it acted as an example to the peace and serenity her music provided to the audience. Those were what she considered her glory days, times when nothing altered but when she would be playing next.
Yet, in the back of her mind, she slowly felt that it would come to an end. There was no tells that implied that, the famous celebrities and many fans overshadowed any doubts, but eventually she stopped. Octavia was yet able to explain why, but one day it stopped. Her motivation, her fame, and anything that had to deal with classical music. She had a theory though, something she'd been told by a few people throughout her rise and fall.
Octavia knew the fame had gotten to her and she’d realized it far too late. Her attitude towards anyone that was even close to a friend was horrendous, along with acting like anything she did would be gold. And the final straw was when she pushed away Lyra, who had been there as her best friend since childhood. Octavia had screamed and said things she knew she'd regret till the end, she'd even literally pushed Lyra away.
Though, she supposed, it was most likely when she back talked the ‘famed’ Blueblood. If she could pinpoint the exact moment her career hit the lowest point yet, it would be when she asked the nephew of President Celestia if he wanted to do the work of a cellist, heck, why not the whole orchestra if he was so proficient in his understandings of the actual way cellos should be played. Octavia never understood people like that, but it seemed that was her downfall. By not understanding the person that she had become, a standoffish, cocky, all around egocentric negative musician.
Somehow though, a week later Lyra came back with a plan. Though no one wanted her to play, Lyra still had hope in her, which was all Octavia needed to get on the path to redeeming herself. Once they had discussed what to do, and approved it with the higher ups, Octavia and Lyra set out to get her mojo back. Which inevitably lead to Octavia meeting her eccentric new partner.
Octavia shook her head and returned to the present, a present that was giving her every opportunity to make it back to the top, and this time with someone who seemed to be quite a human being. But it would have to wait as she had to start with doing the one thing that dictated whether or not they would be able to go on that path; the cello.
Octavia grabbed the sleek, electric cello, something she'd only heard about and seen a few times here and there in pictures over the Internet. Now that she held it Octavia could see what the fuss was about. A chair to the side, facing the door worked as a place for her to practice. Octavia took a breath, situated herself in a comfortable position, and drew the bow across the strings, creating a…
Ear splitting screech.
She sighed, then placed the string back in its original place on the cello. She wasn't going to give up, not yet. The bow slid across once again, this time not screeching but almost...putting like smoke forcing itself from the muffler of a car. Octavia continued her endeavor of finding the right movements, trying her hardest to recall the right placement of her fingers and her bow, something that had waned as her career dropped and she practiced less, basing her excuse of not doing so because she thought she wouldn't need it.
She was already one of the most well known cellists of her generation, why waste her time on practicing something she'd done hundreds of times? Ultimately, that mindset lead to her demise and now caused her frustration. Time passed quickly and unknowingly to Octavia, as she was too focused on the cello and playing it the way she wanted. Not from some sheet, not how she had done, the way that she had gotten famous.
She inhaled, focusing solely on the cello, bow, and what she wanted the instrument to do. For the upteenth time, Octavia drew the bow across the string, hoping to ease the beautiful music that had caused her to fall in love with classical. And by the time the bow had gotten to its furthest reach, all that had come out was horse manure. Octavia threw the bow on the ground, not caring that it most likely cost more than a month of her current rent.
“One last time, Octy.”