//------------------------------//
// Professional Courtesy 
// Story: Latex and Lace 
// by starshine_dash 
//------------------------------//

Vinyl woke late in the afternoon as usual. She picked up her glasses and slid them on with her magic, bringing the world back into clarity. Yawning, the unicorn fumbled around for the card that she had been given last night. The schedule on the back wasn't too packed, but it was definitely more sets scheduled than she had ever played in three days, with one on the main stage on Saturday as well. That could be her ticket to wider recognition. While she owned her own entertainment business and had released a small stack of CDs to local fans, the only work she ever got was here in Canterlot or down in Ponyville for one of Pinkie's innumerable parties. It was fun, but she wanted to go Equestria wide at some point. That and have a little profit to play with. At the moment she could barely afford to keep herself fed, as demonstrated by the breakfast of two slices of plain toast and a glass of tap water. Once in a while she would splurge on a box of cereal and some milk. Hopefully this little festival would bring in enough that she could actually go grocery shopping.

Having made her decision, she fumbled with the phone and dialed the number on the front. It rang several times before it was picked up.

The voice was scratchy and the pony behind it was obviously smiling, "Rustler Nash, Purveyor of Antiquities and Fine Arts."

"Mr. Nash? It's Vinyl Scratch. I've decided to accept your offer. It sounds like fun." she said into the receiver.

The stallion on the other ending chuckled softly, "Excellent. Your payment will arrive in about three days. Your standard appearance fee, plus twenty percent as offered. There will be somepony there when you arrive at the beginning of the festival to help you set up and find your way around."

"You're paying me in advance?" Vinyl asked, disbelief obvious in her voice.

"Of course, Miss Scratch. That way you are capable of buying anything you may need for the festival. If you have any new mixes by then as well, that would be a wonderful time to debut them."

"I've been meaning to finish a new one."

"Well, now's the time then. Nopony lives forever," Nash said, with a laugh at a joke only he got.

"I look forward to performing at the festival, Mr. Nash."

"I look forward to hearing your sets," he replied before hanging up the phone.

Vinyl sat at her table for a few moments, marking the calendar with the expected date of payment and the start of the festival. While it was next month, it was still only a couple of weeks away. She would have to plan her time carefully in order to finish her mix in time, "Well, no sense in putting it off," the unicorn said to nopony in particular, standing and heading out to the club to get to work. A few hours remained before the club actually opened, but that would be plenty of time to work on the mix a little before the customers arrived.





Octavia sat in her chair on the stage while the rest of the orchestra tuned around her. The crowd of ponies in the audience steadily grew as the musicians packing the stage prepared to perform. She spotted her parents in the audience and gave a soft wave. Her mother smiled and waved back while her father busied himself with a particularly stubborn knot in his tie. The mare guessed that her father was still a little upset about their discussion the month before, but her mother had assured her that the old colt would come around eventually.

The cellist just smiled and returned to tuning the instrument cradled carefully in her arms. Once she was satisfied that it was perfectly tuned for classical music instead of the jazz she preferred, she sat back down to rest until the concert began. The violinist next to her leaned over, smirking.

"Who you wavin' at, Octavia? Got a coltfriend in the audience?"

"Not that it is any of your business, Fiddle, but I was waving to my parents."

"Ah, came to the show did they? That was nice of them, considering the issue..."

A shocked look crossed the cellist's features for a split second before it returned to its usual serene and concentrating gaze, "Now, whoever told you that, Fiddle? I assure you my parents are completely fine."

"I heard that your father was more than a little upset when he found out his son wanted to be his daughter."

The silence in air was thick enough that those ponies who overheard had trouble breathing. Octavia turned slowly toward the violinist, purple eyes glaring at him. Her voice was cold, sending a shiver down the still-eavesdropping ponies spines, "I am going to overlook that comment, Fiddler, due to professional courtesy. However, should you bring up the subject again, I will see if you can play that violin without your horn. Do you understand?"

The unicorn felt the world grow cold around him as Octavia seemingly drew the heat from the air to fuel the flames of her anger. He nodded softly and turned away, staring at his sheet music with dead eyes. The cellist returned her face to a relaxed, professional smile. The conductor finally tapped his stand, and she stood, setting the cello against her and balancing on her hind legs. She fell into the familiar stance with practiced ease and began to play on cue. Her mind wandered off again into places she'd rather be and songs she'd rather be playing.

The music flooding the hall entertained her, so long as the pony could pretend she was sitting in the audience with her parents and not up here playing it. The long night continued to drag on as her hoof flew over the strings and the bow coaxed the beautiful sounds out of her instrument. 

At long last the concert came to an end, and Octavia bowed gracefully with the other performers to the applause of the audience. She began to pack up as the curtains swung close. Her music went into the folder passed around by the conductor before she placed her cello carefully in her case. Nestling her bow in its slot, she closed the cover and latched it as a set of hoofsteps approached. She looked up to see her mother standing there, smiling.

"That was beautiful, dear," she said, pulling her daughter into a hug.

"Thank you, mother. I am just glad that this dreadful concert is over. You know how I detest playing the same thing over and over."

"I know, sweetie, but you do it so wonderfully, even your father agreed."

"Where is he, anyway?" the cellist asked as she hefted her gear back onto her back.

"Oh, he left already. Don't worry, dear, he'll come around."

"You keep saying that, but it's been months."

The older pony gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek and nuzzled her softly, "He's an old fashioned pony, dear, and stubborn as a mule. A trait you inherited."

Octavia rolled her eyes and made for the backstage exit, her mother following her to the door, "Well, I have to go home and prepare for the festival. I was offered time on the main stage on Saturday night!"

"Oh! I'm so happy for you!"

"Thank you, mother. I hope you and father will come?"

"Of course, Tavi. We'll be there for as many of your shows as possible."

The cellist smiled and nuzzled her mother affectionately before pushing the door open and entering the brisk night air, "Good night, mother. I'm glad you came."

"Good night, dear. I'll see you at the festival."

Octavia skipped lightly as she returned home, just once or twice. It always made her happy to see her mother and she tried to block out her little conversation with Fiddler. The gall of that stallion, to mention such a sensitive subject in such a public manner. A sigh escaped her lips as she entered the elevator of her apartment complex. She heard a shout coming from behind her and paused.

"Hey! Hold that elevator!" a panicked-looking white unicorn yelled, running toward her.

Octavia stepped aside, giving the other mare room to enter and holding down the button to keep the doors from closing. The unicorn entered, breathing heavily, "Thank you!" she gasped as the bags of groceries she was holding in her telekinesis caught up and filled the space around the mares.

"You're welcome... That's a lot of food, are you having a party?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Oh, no, no. I don't get paid often, so I stock up on the essentials whenever I do."

"You...don't get paid often?"

"I'm a musician, so, money is occasionally hard to come by."

Octavia searched her mind, wondering if she could possibly have seen this, rather beautiful she let herself admit, unicorn before. She knew several white coated unicorns who played in various jazz bands, but none had her mane color or wore such... interesting glasses, "I don't find it that hard. My cello is in high demand. What do you play?"

Vinyl tilted her head at the gray mare she was sharing the elevator with, "The cello? I love classical music! I'm afraid my, uh, instrument is less suited to it. I'm a DJ."

Octavia smiled, recognition showing on her face, "You're Vinyl Scratch! DJ-PON3! I didn't know you lived here. I'm Octavia, I live in 313."

"You're kidding," the unicorn deadpanned.

"No, why?"

"I, uh, live in 314."

They both blinked in silence for a moment until the bell dinged and the doors opened to the third floor. Both stepped out at once and walked alongside each other, "So," Octavia said, speaking up, "You're the mare who vacuums at 4 in the morning and crashes into her furniture?"

A smirk grew on Vinyl's lips, "And you would be the crazy earth pony who plays the cello all day and sings in the bath."

The mare glanced to the side, a slight blush of embarrassment barely visible beneath her coat. She cleared her throat as they reached their apartments, "Well, neighbor, it was good to meet you. Will you be at the festival next month?"

"Of course, I've got stage time all weekend, but they put me on the main stage on Saturday. I'm really looking forward to it."

"Oh, my! Well, I have stage time Saturday as well, perhaps I'll see you there. Good night."

"Night, Octavia," Vinyl said with a smile and entered her apartment.

Octavia caught herself staring at the other mare's flank as the door on 314 shut. Shaking her head, she entered her own apartment and set her cello down, flopping onto her futon and staring up at the ceiling for a while before finally dozing off.

Vinyl, meanwhile, was putting her groceries away and humming a tune while she did. Her neighbor was definitely cute, but something was off. Maybe it was the odd cadence of her voice, or something about the way she walked. Shrugging to herself, she returned to putting things where they belonged, glad to be fully stocked on food supplies for the month with money left over. Turned out she was being paid by the individual performance and not by the day as she had thought. Hopefully, her performances would garner some attention and she could finally move out of this tiny apartment.