Your eyes
Watching me like a camera
Overexposure to these kind of days
And the film
Was surreal
As the dream was
Shooting stars and galactic fates
You were my pride
But where have you been?
- The Fall of Troy
***
I don’t know where I’d be without this pegasus right now.
No, seriously. I wouldn’t know. I’d be lost in that forsaken forest. Turns out, it’s not nearly as beautiful after nightfall, and thanks to my short-sightedness, I hadn’t thought about how I’d get back. In retrospect, going off the path was a poor decision.
I’ve made a lot of poor decisions.
Luckily, my new acquaintance is a local. She guided us out of the forest with ease. I can see the village on the horizon. It’s– dim. I look up and can see the stars. They’re just dozens of insignificant specks of light dotting the sky, but I can’t believe how much I missed them. It feels like it’s my first time seeing them. I’m so used to light pollution rendering the night invisible, or perhaps I mean too visible.
It’s been an agonizingly long time since I’ve been in a civilized place that was so serene. There isn’t unicorn magic around every corner, painting the town in an eerie pastel and neon glow that I was so sick of, yet accustomed to. The only illumination at night here is that which comes from the moon and the gentle flames shuddering in nearby windows.
My guide has been rather quiet during our return to the town. I can’t fully blame her. I am a stranger, after all, something I haven’t been to anypony in a long time. Perhaps this place is a little more… backwater than I give it credit for. Right now, that doesn’t sound like such a bad thing though.
My stomach thinks otherwise. Normally, it’s a rather picky beast, but I’d ignored its cries for so long, that it begged for the attention of anypony nearby. It’s not nearly as quiet as the pegasus leading me into town, and she takes notice. I try my best to shrug it off; blushing a bit, but I can’t deny how hungry I am. “Any chance there’s a place in town I could sate my palette?” She looks back at me, her head slowly rotating to the side until I’m convinced that if I don’t clarify, it’ll turn completely upside down. “Er– know anywhere I can get some– grub?” Kind of a crass terminology, if you ask me.
“Um, there’s a wonderful diner right over—” Her wings flap a little harder, and she motions a hoof towards a nearby building before noticing that lack of light emanating from it. “Oh, I guess it is rather late.” Not really. At least not by the standards I’ve grown accustomed to elsewhere. Perhaps she’s lost track of time from her fainting spells. For a while, I was convinced I’d be dragging a corpse back to town in my cello case. Still, considering all the other shops in the vicinity look equally busy, it must be late enough for this town to call it a day.
None of this conversation is making my stomach any calmer. Again, it sings a weak, but boisterous call for help. Despite our lack of familiarity, the pegasus does seem to show concern for my stomach’s plight. She is– interesting. Bashful doesn’t begin to describe it, and she shows too much fear to simply be reserved. She appears traumatized by every little thing. A shame, as it has probably kept her from seeing the more beautiful things in life.
Oh Celestia, my stomach. Never mind the mare’s mysteries. I can dabble in pony psychology another time. “Never mind that then. My fault entirely. I’m sure most of your excursions in the forest aren’t as interrupted by fainting spells. Or intruders.” She blushes a bit at my snide remark, but in truth, it is my fault. “I simply need to gather my things and find the inn in town. I’m sure with a few extra bits, I can obtain a hot meal there.”
She appears concerned again, and I am afraid I already know why before she graces me with a response. “Oh, um… that may be a problem.”
Horseapples… I knew it.
“Ponyville doesn’t have an inn. Well, I mean, we used to have boarding services at the tavern, but when you live in a town that nopony really visits… Well, they lost bits faster than they made them.” Her voice appears to show genuine pity for the situation I’ve found myself in. Strange. She doesn’t even know me. Perhaps she is just naturally kind to all ponies.
If I were anywhere but Ponyville, I would naturally assume she recognized me from tabloids or the various dreck that lines the streets of Los Pegasus and Manehattan. I am fairly certain this is not the case. She definitely didn’t show any signs of recognition once she was finally conscious enough for me to introduce myself. Not to mention, the simpleton didn’t even know what a cello was, so she couldn’t be familiar with my work. I must say, it’s relieving to be able to start with somepony from scratch. No assumptions or pretext commanding who I am or how I should be treated. Still, it’s not the most ideal of situations. Under the usual circumstances, I would never associate with somepony who didn’t know of the classics, much less one who doesn’t even know what a cello is.
The stomach pangs have returned, pulling my mind off of further tangents. It’s not like me to skip meals, but I was… distracted. There was no room in my mind for food, only music. My stomach argues otherwise though.
Fluttershy seems deep in thought, and her eyes perk up, as I can only assume she’s had some sort of epiphany. “I think I have an idea where you can stay, that is, if you’re planning on staying. It’s the least I can do to help.” I nod, as I don’t have many options outside of compliance. “Wonderful, let me go talk to my friend. I’m sure she has some space, especially with her dragon out of town at the moment.” I must have misheard her. Did she say a ‘dragon’? As a pet?
I must have missed the next couple things she said as I pondered what place in town could house (and tame) a massive beast, but before she hovers off, she motions to the tree in the center of town, asking me to meet her there after I’ve gathered my things. I feel rather guilty at the moment, as I’ve been in town less than a day, and already I’m inconveniencing not one, but two ponies now. In retrospect, traveling without making any sort of plans or arrangements was a poor decision, but a necessary one. I couldn’t let anyone know where to find me until I found myself.
I definitely made some strides forward in that respect today. Getting back in touch with the music felt… cleansing. I still feel a bit rusty and out-of-touch with the bond I once felt with music, but all good things take time. Luckily, I have all the time in the world now that I’m away from prying eyes and sold-out concert halls.
But this pegasus, where does her talent come from? Her singing, it truly was one of the most beautiful things I’ve heard, and that song… Mezzo wrote that song when I was but a filly. Before I could even hold a cello, much less play one. Mezzo was the greatest musician I’ve known, but I thought his work was lost to the sands of time. That realization is what made me embark on this journey. I feared that I would be forgotten in time.
But Mezzo, he must not be truly lost to this world if there is still someone that sings his praises. Literally. She didn’t appear to know the piece, or his name even, but hearing the way she sang his ‘Viola Sonata in C minor’, it brought new light to it. I need to rethink my reasons for coming here. Even if his name is lost among history, his work has apparently survived, and perhaps that is what he wanted most.
I must learn more about the mysterious soprano. Her skills intrigue me.
I really need to stop letting my mind wander. I didn’t even notice until now that I’ve arrived at the train station. My belongings are still here. Instruments and bow ties all accounted for. However, I’ve come to the sudden realization that I am on my own for this excursion, and there’s no way a simple earth pony can find a way to move all these things on their own. Poor decision again, Octavia…
It is then that I realize I made an even worse decision: leaving my belongings in plain sight. The first flash of light goes relatively unnoticed by me. After all, in a town like this, where I can see the stars again, I simply pass it off as a twinkle from the night sky.
Less than a day, and this town has made me naïve. The flash is soon followed by a dozen others, as well as the sound of marching hooves and clicking shutters. I can’t see past the blinding wall of light rushing towards me, but I already know what is happening. No time to think. No time to plan. There is only time for action.
So I make a poor decision…
Run.
My frame is strong enough to carry instruments twice my size, but that is from years of practice and necessity. I am not built for speed, and I have only ever heard rumors of a single pony who can outrun light itself. They might not catch me, but their cameras do. Their flash bulbs trailing my every step, and their voices urging me to stop and explain myself, even though they know I won’t comply.
Where do I go? This isn’t like the streets of downtown Los Pegasus. I can only run so far before the streets simply end and I’ll be cornered. I should have known better. I shouldn’t have thought I could simply hide. It was only a matter of time, but I just wanted it to last longer than this.
I’m short of breath, but I can make out the tree that Fluttershy urged me to return to. I’m already running the direction before I realize that this is one poor decision I should avoid. Just having me watch her made the poor mare faint, so a tidal wave of tabloid reporters would surely massacre her. This is my problem, not hers. She’s already done more than enough on my part. But my selfish needs of shelter are commanding my movements, and I find myself unable to diverge from the closest hope I have to safety.
I see her talking to somepony outside the tree, a unicorn. The unicorn sees the crowd following me and promptly backs away, slamming the door shut. I can’t blame her. I would probably do the same thing in her situation. I can only assume it’s not everyday that somepony in this town sees someone getting chased down the street by a mob of paparazzi.
The yellow pegasus seems confused by her friend’s actions, as she has yet to realize the chaos that is quickly approaching behind her. Without thinking, I try my best to warn her. “Fluttershy! Run!”
Poor decision. The mob behind me pauses temporarily and gaze amongst one another in confusion. I shouldn’t have acknowledged that I know this mare. There is blood in the water now, and they’re hungrier than before, but the pause is enough for me to gain a little headway on them. I’ve only fueled their questions further, but I’m not listening. I’ve heard it all before. The answers differ, but the questions are all the same.
I keep running, blindly. My hooves are tired, and I don’t know where I’m going, but I can’t just give up. I feel the wind in my face growing stronger, even though my pace is slowing down, and realize that the pegasus is flying beside me. “Who are they? Who are you?” she pants as she tries to keep up.
Understandable question, but I don’t really have time to explain while running. “Never mind that! I just came here to get away from them.”
In between the flaps of her wings, I can see her cringe. I’m far too exhausted and distracted to think clearly at this point, but it almost seems… empathetic? Or even familiar to her. She recovers quickly and glides in front of me. “Quickly! This way!” She turns down a street, and I follow without thinking.
With the camera flashes illuminating our escape path, it isn’t long before I realize she is guiding us out of town. “Are you crazy? They’ll surely catch us if we leave town!”
“They’ll surely catch us if we stay.” Her words catch me by surprise, but I’m in no place to argue further at this point. If she believes there is a safe haven this way, I’m inclined to trust her. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a choice between certain death and unlikely escape, and I came here to escape. Not much of a choice, really.
They’re gaining on us. I can’t keep this up much longer. How far from town does she plan on taking me? And how far are these vultures willing to follow? Despite their appearances, unkempt and out-of-shape, they definitely have no problem keeping up if it means a hot scoop.
I don’t want this.
My new acquaintance pulls me out of my self-pity with encouraging words. “We’re almost there. Hurry!”
As much as I want to trust her, I’ve definitely made mistakes in where I laid my trust in the past. “Almost where?” She pulls ahead of me with a hard flap of her wings and points her dainty hoof ahead of the path. A roof appears as we top the hill and descend towards a small, but spacious looking house on the edge of the forest.
She flies ahead, calling out for assistance as she pushes open the door of the cottage, “Angel! Help!” She motions me inside, and with the last of my energy I collapse as she slams the door shut behind me. I’m having trouble catching my breath, and the flashes of the cameras are still blinding us as the mob presses up against the window. Do they ever run out of film? Or are they simply flashing the cameras only to taunt me still?
As I lay in a mess on the floor, my chest heaving from exhaustion, I realize the thumping sound I hear is not that of my heart on the verge of arrest, but instead the vibrations of the floor. My coronas are still blinded by the flashing lights, and I can hear Fluttershy rushing around the cottage drawing curtains as the cameramen rush from one open window to the next. Her efforts do nothing to mute their questions though, and I can feel a painful ringing in my ears as I try to ignore every word.
Still, as my eyes adjust, I can make out a fuzzy, white mass staring at me, tapping with a furious rhythm on the floor, syncopating with my racing heart. Fluttershy calls out, and the creature looks back at her in protest and disgust. “I know you don’t know her, but she needs our help. Now please, help me close the rest of the windows. Pretty please?”
I can make out the elongated ears atop the creatures head as my sight begins to focus, and clearly make out the white rabbit as it remains unfazed by the pegasi’s urges. How does she expect a rabbit to help in this situation? Is it going to summon an army to destroy the foul beasts that have cornered us? The rabbit continues to stare at me like an intruder, which in some way or another, I am, but not by my own faculties. I’m too exhausted to justify myself, and why should I? It’s a damned rabbit.
A soft, but firm kick from his hind leg collides against my nose. “Ouch.” The filthy vermin must be able to read thoughts. Still too drained to retaliate, I vow revenge under my breath. As though I don’t have enough problems at the moment without the urge to engage in mortal combat with a creature a tenth of my size.
My cry of pain calls Fluttershy’s attention back to the rabbit. “Angel! Apologize!” I’m not sure what has changed in her, but the rabbit stands frozen before me with fear. He quickly cowers away, leaving me to collect my thoughts, what little left of them I have.
The occasional flash is still peeking through gaps in the curtains, but Fluttershy appears to have given up on discouraging the mob any further, and helps me to my hooves. Her demeanor quickly shifts from how she looked at the rabbit. Through her stress and exhaustion, she tries to face me with understanding. “Now, I don’t mind lending a helping hoof, but you have some explaining to do.”
She’s right. I can’t properly thank her for her assistance thus far, but where do I begin explaining? “I’m not sure how to tell you.”
She’s still gasping for breath, and has trouble mincing her words. “How about you start by telling me who you are? Is Octavia even your name?”
I sigh heavily. It’s not my fault that she hadn’t heard of me, but I’m not really here to advertise myself. “No, I haven’t lied to you. My name is indeed Octavia, and I do play the cello, among other instruments.”
“Then why are they so interested in you? Why did they chase us here?”
I’m unsure how to answer this, but the simplest answer is best. “Because I play the cello, among other instruments.” I smirk slightly to mask my frustration, but she easily sees through my façade.
She holds a hoof to her temples, rubbing deeply as she rephrases her question. “Let me ask something different then. Who is Vinyl Scratch?”
A name I don’t want to hear. “What?”
She motions to a window where flashes of light are still cutting through the open space. “Those ponies out there kept asking me questions about somepony named Vinyl Scratch. If you don’t mind me asking, I assume those questions are meant for you, and I don’t recall anypony by that name.”
I don’t want to talk about it, but I do owe her an explanation of some sort. “Vinyl– Vinyl is the reason I came here,” I respond, my eyes fixed on the floor the entire time.
I can tell that my answer is not enough to satisfy her, even without seeing her reaction. “Um, I thought you came here to play the cello, or something like that.” She pauses briefly, but I can tell she is more than a little frustrated by the gathering outside the house. “Um, okay. I don’t really understand, but I’m willing to help. I’m no good with crowds though, especially ones like this, and I don’t think they’re going to leave unless you do something about it.”
Blunt, but she’s right. Something about the situation has definitely struck a chord with her, so to speak. Diminished, but a chord nonetheless. “You’re right. I’m sorry that you’ve gotten mixed up in all this, but– thanks.” I shake my head to clear my thoughts, but that never really works. They just come rushing back harder than before. I pause before approaching the door, my curiosity piqued before I face the mob. “It’s none of my business, but you seem particularly—” How do I put this? “Irked by the ponies outside. I mean, it’s not something I’ve ever gotten used to myself, but—”
“I don’t like cameras, okay?” She blushes deeply and averts her gaze away, embarrassed by the tone in her voice. “I’m sorry, I just want to help, but… cameras make me uncomfortable.”
Understandable, especially when you don’t know the pony holding the camera. “I– I understand, believe me. Let me do what I can to quell the situation, then I’ll tell you everything, ok?”
“Um, okay. I mean, do you think they’ll go away?”
Not in the slightest. I have my hoof on the door as I respond to her, “They never really ‘go away’, but if you give them what they want, they’ll leave you alone. At least for a little while.” I open the door, and anything else I have to say is lost among the roar of the crowd prodding me with questions.
“Octavia, what are you—”
“Who is—”
*FLASH*
“—in Ponyville?”
“—breakdown—”
“—Vinyl know?”
*CLICK*
“—scandal—”
“Where is—”
“—quitting music?”
No. No. A thousand times, no. Where are they getting their information?
“ENOUGH!”
My head is the only one that turns, as everypony already knows the voice came from behind me. Fluttershy eyes are running red with blood and… fire. Before her temperature rises hot enough for her mane to burst in her flames, the cameras start flashing again, pointed at her this time.
“—eep!”
She dives out of the lights. This isn’t good. She’s using me to shelter herself from the cameras. I look back at the crowd, my eyes wide with fear at what message they’re going to twist this image into, and instinctively slam the door shut before they can commit any more it to celluloid.
“What. Was. That?” I don’t think she has any idea how much worse the situation has become. She’s hiding her face behind her wings, shivering. As confused as I am, I feel like doing the same right about now, if I only had wings myself.
“Um, I really… really don’t like cameras.”
Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear, in the worst possible way. If I don’t do something soon, they’ll have a field day with this. I try to clear the thoughts of imaginary headlines from my mind and face the problem. “Okay, this isn’t good at all.” At all. “There aren’t many ways this situation can be saved anymore, but, I’m going to try.” I hate to be rude to my savior, but I don’t know how else to make this clear. “I’m going to open that door again, and this time I need you to keep your precious little mouth shut. Understood?”
She peeks her face out from under her wings, about to respond. Before saying a word, she stops herself, and instead nods meekly. That’s about all I can ask for at the moment. I swiftly buck the door open before facing the blinding lights. The questions almost begin again immediately, but I’m done listening.
“Quiet! Do you want me to answer, or simply fill in the facts yourselves?”
The crowd glances at one another, then erupt into laughter. Yeah, I should have known better. Poor decision.
Before I can continue my tirade, a unicorn with a pen and pad floating in front of his face breaks the laughter with a question. “Octavia, what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”
Trying to get away from you. What in Tartarus do you think? I can’t say that though, but I don’t exactly have any responses prepared. “I’m—” Uh-oh. What do I say? “I came out here to… to work on my new album!” Wait, what did I just say?
“Uh… huh,” the muckraker responds bluntly, not believing a word I say. His pen points in the direction of the pegasus cowering between my hooves. “And the au pair?”
“First of all, she’s a local, not an au pair.” Not helping, Octavia. “She’s– she’s my new producer!”
Wait.
What did I just say?
“Yeah, that’s right! My producer!” Shut up, Octavia! The hole was already deep enough, and now you’re just burying yourself alive!
“Um,” I can hear a soft squeak behind me, and rush to silence it with my hind hoof. Another soft squeak escapes as I collide with her mouth. I want to apologize, but that has to wait.
They’re staring. I understand how she must have felt when I found in the forest now. “What? She’s going to make my new album amazing. A brand new sound, out here among nature.”
The crowd looks amongst themselves. They know something I don’t. The same reporter tosses something in my direction with a touch of his magic. “It’s just– Vinyl didn’t mention a new album.”
I don’t need him to tell me that. The headline on the paper he threw at me says it loud and clear, and in quotes to boot.
‘Washed Up’
Buck you, Vinyl.
“She told you this?”
The reporters roll their eyes in unison towards me. “No, a little birdie did.”
I hear snickering behind me. Not helping, Fluttershy.
“Well she’s one to talk! When was the last time she released an album?”
The reporter sighs, and with a little more magic, flips open the paper to the arts pages.
Top of the charts. You’ve got to be bucking kidding me. She planned this. She had to. I’ll show her…
“I’ll show her…” Oh, did I just say that out loud? “That’s nothing! My next album is going to make her look deader than disco.” Deader than disco? At least speak proper if you’re going to hurl insults, Octavia.
None of this is helping make them go away. Focus, girl! “Now if you’ll excuse us, you’re interrupting my creative process. I trust there are no more inquiries. Tell Vinyl she’s got another thing coming!”
The door slams shut, and moments later, I can hear the crowd dispersing, albeit slower than I would like. What have I done? When did she make a new album? I swear, one of these days I will bury that mare.
“Um, what just happened?” Ah, right. I forgot about the quiet pegasus cowering behind me. Horseapples. She shouldn’t have to be a part of my games, whether it be revenge or just hiding me from the tabloids. She’s done enough for me already.
“Did you tell them I’m recording your album?”
“I– I think I just made a poor decision.”
Our time together has been short, but I already know what happens next.
“Eep.”
And down she goes.
A really poor decision.