If Vinyl wasn’t already spending most of her time in isolation, the visit from the two investigators only made it all the worse. She spent nearly all of her time in her room for the following week, not even coming out for mealtimes like usual. Instead, Octavia kept bringing them to her door and simply dropped them off. Another, better pony might have coaxed Vinyl from her room, but Octavia simply couldn’t do it. Every time she thought about it, her stomach simply twisted up in knots. It was infuriating quite honestly, definitely something she should be better than.
In the meantime, Octavia started her own little investigation. She wouldn’t be one to sit on her hooves while her friend suffered. Working the orchestra gave her plenty of time to fiddle with her own devices, and for now, Vinyl would be the object of her fascination. She didn’t have many connections as one would think of her position, but the ones she did she set into employ. Perhaps most importantly, she had planned to visit her most favorite noble of all: Fancy Pants. Kind didn’t even begin to describe him, and if anyone could help her navigate through such a difficult situation, it would be him.
Which meant a dinner in the city’s Art district would be called for. She’d planned it, dressed for it, and now she waited. Octavia wore a stunning lilac dress, long, form-fitting and glistening ever so slightly in the light. The tail end of it split, almost like a mermaid’s tail, and svelte, small pearls hugging against her neck. She waited outside a particularly popular spot: The Gilded Mare. It served all sorts of things, but mostly concentrated on the Prench cuisine that Octavia loved so much. A shame that Vinyl wouldn’t be here to try it herself, but perhaps she could bring some back.
For now, she waited calmly at the front of it, a small crowd buzzing around the entrance. Thankfully, Fancy Pants was practically the picture of prompt. A tap on her shoulder alerted Octavia to his presence. The stallion wore his traditional suit, hair perfectly taken care of, monocle in place. The Fancy classic. With a bright, wide smile, Octavia leaned forward, throwing her forelegs around him in a tight hug. Fancy Pants was not the type of pony that you shook hooves with, especially not when you planned on asking him a favor!
“Well, it’s good to see you too, Miss Philharmonic,” Fancy Pants welcomed, a little pat on Octavia’s back as a small comfort. The two of them split apart, wide enough that Octavia could see the small, classy smile on Fancy’s face as well. “Shall we go ahead and get our seats? I’ve reserved my normal table for us,” he explained, not missing a step.
Octavia bowed her head in acceptance, already feeling better. Fancy Pants would know what to do and how to navigate through this mire of lies and half truths. He might be the only one she knew who could actually help her. As he led her through the throng of ponies and deeper into the restaurant, conversation sprang up naturally.
“It’s been quite a while since we’ve last talked, has it not?” he asked, just loud enough to be heard and not a single decibel more. He had something of a gift with that, didn’t he? “I have to say, we really should do this more often. You’re quite the conversationalist,” he noted.
Those words alone brought the hint of a blush to Octavia’s cheeks. “You’re too kind, Fancy,” she brushed it off, with a small giggle. “But you’re right. It’s been a couple months, hasn’t it? Have you been coming to the Orchestra’s performance?” she asked.
The two of them had a table out of the way of the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. It was in a corner, a small booth with four seats. The two of them took a side each, the seats wide enough to easily stretch out on. “Oh, of course,” Fancy answered, nodding his head ever so slightly. “Same booth every week. You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he teased.
This wasn’t the sort of restaurant to actually give you a menu. Simply put, the chef cooked something that day and you had it. There was a sampling of different wines and liquors, but that and how your dish was cooked would be the extent of your choice. Which didn’t set Octavia out at all - no, she preferred it. A practical ocean of quality separated these sorts of places from your more humdrum restaurants, something that Octavia couldn’t go back to.
Apparently, Fancy’s presence had set the place on high alert as well. Already glasses of water waited for them, placemats already set. A centerpiece made purely of glass roses took the middle of the table, a wonderful decoration that went well with the light tablecloth.
Octavia adjusted a bit in her seat, getting used to high society dining again after weeks of eating at home. “Maybe next time I’ll take a look for you. Perhaps the Orchestra could play a piece in honor of your recent charity establishment? I was just oh so disappointed about missing the gala for its opening that I wanted to make it up somehow. I’ve simply been preoccupied, but I think I could probably talk to Miss Note. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Octavia asked. She wouldn’t be particularly subtle, but an offering like that would definitely bring Fancy Pants’ interest to the table - proverbially speaking. Octavia didn’t usually influence things like that, but as a lead for such an important instrument, she could pull a few strings - literally and proverbially speaking this time. Besides, the charity had been the talk of the town for weeks now, and something capitalizing on it would be good for everyone.
It seemed to strike home as Fancy’s face positively lit up in excitement. “That would be absolutely wonderful, Octavia!” he said, enthusiasm showing through in his face. “Truly wonderful. I’ve been trying to get the word out about it, and a plug from the Orchestra? Why, I can’t imagine how much money that alone would bring. You’d be willing to do that for me?” he asked, a slightly more curious expression taking over instead.
Speaking of curiosity… Octavia’s smile turned a little more wan, knowing that her request would be a lot. “Yes. And I truly didn’t meant to come here to dinner to get something out of you, but I am in need of a small boon and I figured that dinner would be much more pleasant if business was out of the way first,” she noted. Letting out a small sigh. “I have recently come across a matter of interest to myself. There’s a mare that seems to be wanted by the police force known as Vinyl Scratch. Or, at the least, a couple came to my door proclaiming that. I know you have contacts within the force and perhaps you could take a look into it for me?” she asked. The cards were laid out on the table plain and simple. Fancy could say no, he could say yes. But honestly, she didn’t know if she had another recourse.
Fancy did look contemplative as well, his eyes inspecting Octavia with a certain carefulness. “This mare, you know her well? Or is this just a curiosity? I’m sure that you’d know better than to ask for something like this when it doesn’t matter, but what is this mare to you?” he asked, one hoof ever so carefully placed on the table.
“I know her in a- Oh, who am I kidding? You deserve the truth, especially since I’m asking so much. Vinyl was a beggar on the corner of my street on the way to work every day. Sometimes I’d leave her a few bits or so just to help her out. One day, I brought her home for breakfast and we bonded. She’s been living at my house for a while now. She’s an absolute sweetheart, and I have such a hard time believing what the investigators said. I know it can’t be true but… I’m worried. I don’t know what is the truth,” Octavia explained, giving a condensed version. Her head bowed down, ears flat against her head. If anyone would understand, it would be Fancy.
A little sigh came out of the stallion and he shook his head ever so slightly. Yet, he smiled, a small, almost sad looking smile. “You always do manage to find yourself into the strangest situations, Octavia. I don’t think any other pony has come to me with a similar story to that, and believe me, I’ve heard many, many different stories. You always are getting yourself in trouble,” he noted, a little bit of chastisement in his tone.
Octavia started to speak up, to defend herself, but Fancy raised a hoof, keeping her quiet. “I’ll help you. Don’t get me wrong, I think what you’ve done is careless, and a bit foalish, but I’ll help you. I can get you the information you need but-” his expression turned a touch more teasing. “You know you didn’t have to bribe me, correct? Octavia, you’re a good mare trying to help somepony who is down on their luck. I would have helped you for nothing, but I do thank you for the offer,” he finished, lowering his hoof back down.
Something caught in Octavia’s throat, holding her back from speaking instantly. After the initial reprimand, she’d expected a no, but to also get commended for her approach sent a wave of emotion through her. She did just want to help. Sure, she wanted a friend too, but Vinyl needed her and she might get to keep her around for a while. She finally found her voice, though it was still thick with emotion.
“Thank you. Honestly, thank you. I really needed something to go right with this. She’s too scared to leave her room right now and I just… I didn’t know what to do or who else to turn to. You’re a real treasure, Fancy, and I’m so lucky to have known you,” she admitted, her cheeks staining a bit pink from a blush.
Fortunately, the mood lightened quite a bit with Fancy’s laughter, the stallion waving a hoof a bit dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, dear. It’s what I’m here for. However, I do have a small request. Perhaps I could meet this Vinyl Scratch? Maybe a bit more socialization would help coax her back out. I’d really hate for her to live in such worry. Would it be too much trouble for me to come by with the results of my investigation and meet her then?” he asked.
Octavia smiled a timid smile, her head beating in her chest and the rest of her body feeling oh-so-very-warm. “I think that’d be a really nice idea. Just promise you won’t be surprised, deal? She’s not exactly the most cultured mare in the world, but she’s definitely endearing in her own way,” she explained. She could only imagine the high society crowd that she normally hung around with seeing the brash, crass Vinyl for the first time. She wondered if Vinyl would choose ‘Octy’ or ‘Tavi’ for that day. She hoped it’d be Tavi. Honestly, she liked that better.
A waiter stopped by their table before Fancy could speak, bowing his head to the both of them: “Gentlestallion, lady,” he mumbled to each of them in turn. He ever so carefully filled their wine glasses from a bottle, dark red liquid coming from within. He let the bottle rest on their table, bowing his head once more. “Please don’t hesitate to call if you need absolutely anything. Have a pleasant meal,” he said. And with that, he was gone, giving Fancy the floor back.
“That seems to be as good of a sign as any, doesn’t it, Octavia dear?” Fancy asked, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “Believe me, I don’t have the tiniest fragment of doubt your Vinyl is lovely, and I won’t be bothered by any of their words. But for now, shall we have our dinner? I think we could both enjoy some time without thinking of anything more than good food and good company.”
A bright, happy grin spread across Octavia’s face, the same warm feeling taking over for certain. “Yes, let’s.”