It took a long time to not only record but rerecord each song so that to Ocellus, Pull and Dawn, they sounded perfect. Even with the older songs, they listened back to every note, every chord, and every vocal tone until they could say with confidence, “Yes! That’s it!” before moving on with the next one. Before they knew it, they recorded twenty-seven songs, ready to go and be heard on the radio.
Fancy Pants did come down to Ponyville as soon as they send word that the songs have been recorded – along with a few lawyers. The group negotiated in how payment was to be split up, giving Ocellus, Pull, and Dawn the copyrights and royalties to their songs. As well as handing the rights to their songs over to Fancy to be put on the air on his radio station. Before they signed any agreements, both they and Fancy came to a compromise that they will be paid based on a percentage of record sales, as long as they, in turn, give him at least two songs a week.
They agreed.
Two days later at noon, the radio station, Imagine 96.3, was launched; and for their opening song, they played Yesterday. As ponies who tuned into this new station, they heard the voice of Ocellus singing. Not only in Canterlot and Ponyville, but anyone in Equestria who had a radio heard the tunes of this young voice. Especially the young who after hearing one earworm after another, began writing to their radio stations if they would play this or that song again. All the better for Fancy, as it means that those stations would have to buy the songs from him.
One morning, after Ocellus had woken up and about to go out to her classes, she found Headmare Twilight there.
“Headmare? What are you-”
“Do not go outside of the school today.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
Before she knew it, Twilight’s horn glowed brightly and before she knew it, Ocellus was in Twilight’s office. “Let’s just say that for the time being, you shouldn’t go outside because of your fans.”
Ocellus blinked. “I have fans?”
“Look out of the window.”
She did, flying over, the Young Changeling was astonished at what was outside of the school. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of ponies were camped outside of the school’s borders as if this portion of Ponyville was flooded by a multicolored army. There were tents and campfires, even portable toilets were set up.
“I tried to make sense of why they’re here.” Twilight said, “Apparently, they’re all here because someone got word that The Beatle happens to go to school here. If I didn’t put up a shield around the school… well… I don’t want to risk anypony getting hurt.”
“They’re all here for me?” The Headmare nodded. “How do you know that?”
“Besides talking to them, they have a sign posted just outside of the shield that says, ‘We Want the Beatle.’ I tried to ask them to go away, but they insisted on hearing from you.”
Ocellus looked between her and the fans outside. “All of this and we didn’t release a record yet. They must have heard me on the radio… I didn’t think I would get a response like this right away.”
“Well, we still need to do something about it. Because otherwise, nopony would be able to get in or out of the school.”
“Unless…” Ocellus began, the clockwork in her mind started turning. “I tell them to come back later.”
“Huh?”
“Well I was planning on doing an outdoor concert in the coming weeks but… maybe I need to move it sooner than expected.” Her head jerked up. “I got an idea!” Opening the window, she flew out before Twilight could stop her. She flew over towards the edge of the shield in which the crowd cheered loudly when they saw her.
“Uh… Excuse me?” She said but her voice was drowned out by the screams of her fans. “Hey! If everyone could just… If you could-”
“EVERYPONY SHUT UP!!!”
The sudden explosion of words was heard, and Ocellus turned around to see Twilight flying out with her. This sudden outburst was effective enough to quiet the fans down. Before Ocellus could speak, Twilight cast an amplifier spell on her so that they could hear.
Ocellus cleared her throat. “Yes, hello everyone! Can you all hear me?” They said they can. “Great! Now listen, I can assume that all of you have probably come a long way just to hear me sing, right?” They said they were. “All of you have to understand that I’m still a student that still needs to attend classes. But at the same time, I was planning for a concert in a few weeks. But, with all of you here, maybe I could make a change in plans.” There was a mummer from the fans. “So, I’ll tell you what. If all of you could wait until say… Tomorrow night, at eight o’clock over at the Windmill, I will set up an impromptu concert for all of you. Sound good?”
There was a shout in approval.
“Great, see you all until then.” She said with a smile before turning to Twilight who stared at her in disbelief. “What?”
“You do realize what just came out of your mouth, right?” She questioned. “You’re going to stage a concert tomorrow? Do you even have a plan for that?”
“Well…” Ocellus blinked. Realizing too late that she didn’t.
Even after Twilight told her to get to her classes, and as much as she tries to pay attention, Ocellus was confronted with the fact that despite giving all those fans a promise of a show – she didn’t have much of an idea as to how to put it together. For a while, she wasn’t sure what order the songs she had should be.
“So, rumor has it you’re going to have a concert tomorrow night at the windmill.”
It was during lunch hour when Ocellus looked up at Sandbar when he said it.
Ocellus slammed her had face-first into the table. “I think my mouth spoke before my head did.” She said. “What was I thinking?”
While Sandbar took his seat, Yona approached with her lunch. “What going on?”
“By the sound of it,” Sandbar said, “I think she’s gonna need our help.”
“With what?”
“I agreed to a crowd to do a concert before I’m prepared for it.” Ocellus said, lifting her head in time to see Yona sitting down as well as seeing Gallus and Silverstream approaching the table. “But he’s right, I’m in desperate need of help to get ready for tomorrow.”
“What do you need?” Sandbar asked.
“Well, apart from moving equipment up to the roof of the windmill – possibly wiring up a couple of loudspeakers up there – I also need to figure out which songs I’m gonna do, as well as probably have some security for crowd control.”
“If you’re looking for a good security guard,” Smolder said, walking in with a tray. “Then there’s no better than a flying dragon that can breathe fire.”
Ocellus thanked her for that.
“You said that there’s gonna be fans?” Gallus inquired. “Tell me, are they the kind that would happen to have bits?”
She shrugged. “Maybe? Although…” Ocellus thought for a moment. “If you were to sell tickets, I think it would limit the number of ponies there a bit. Which would make the job for security for you Smolder a lot easier.”
“I think I can tackle the tickets,” Gallus said, rubbing his talons his mind starting to daydream. “Along with other things.”
“But what about the songs?” Silverstream asked. “How many are you going to sing?”
“Well…” Ocellus mused. “There’s twenty-seven so far, and they’re going to all be put on a record soon-”
“But you don’t have to sing all of them, do you?” Sandbar asked. “I mean, most of your songs are about – what – two minutes give or take?” She nodded. “So if you were to sing all of those, that would be… About eighty-one minutes. Well over an hour. So maybe you don’t have to sing them all.”
“Could I do that?”
“Is there rule that say not to?” Yona asked.
“Well… no. There isn’t as far as I know. With concerts, I could make them as long as I want. So maybe I could just pick like… ten or so. Considering that I need to put this together, that would make the most sense.”
“Yeah.” Sandbar nodded. “Unless you’re doing a musical or something, I think it’s a good idea to keep it short.”
Ocellus nodded, and in her mind, she began to pick out the songs she’s done. She reasoned that she should pick out the ones that don’t require a large-scale orchestra. That, and it would make sense to use the same method that she used at the school dance as well, which means she needs to visit Octavia’s home to get the recordings for the karaoke versions for her to play with.
Then, a thought came to her.
“Would it be a good idea to introduce a couple of new songs at this concert?”
All of her friends looked up at her, stunned.
“What are you talking about?” Smolder questioned.
“Suppose I was to go to work with McCart and Lemon where we just make up a few new songs before the concert.”
“Are you crazy?” Sandbar asked her. “You have about a day left; I don’t know if there’s enough time for you guys.”
“But there’s a couple of really good ideas I could pitch to them. I think these would be crowd-pleasers.”
“Yona doesn’t think good idea,” Yona said. “Not possible to write up good songs in short amount of time.”
“Moztrot could do it.” Ocellus protested.
“Maybe,” Gallus pointed out, “but last time I checked, you’re not Moztrot.”
Immediately after school, Ocellus went towards her music teacher’s home. Before she could enter through the front door, she stopped and heard guitars playing, along with two familiar voices singing. So carefully opening the door, she stuck her head in to peek through and not interrupt the jamming session that was going on. Not only were Pull, Dawn, and Octavia were there, but so was a mare that Ocellus has never seen before.
Sitting on a wooden stool was a mare that looked as old as the stallions, one that had a straw blond mane that was tied back. Her fur was a cloudy gray, and the Changeling noticed the lens of a camera as her cutie mark. She held in her hooves a beaten-up black guitar case.
“Uh… E-Excuse me.” Ocellus said meekly.
The music died down and the older stallions turned to look at her.
“Ah!” Pull said with a smile, putting down his guitar. “Our muse has arrived!”
“Good timing too,” Dawn commented. “For the life of me, I can’t figure out what comes next to this bloody tune.”
Pull rushed over to pull Ocellus in. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” The young Changeling asked.
“So far they’re just playing nonsense,” Octavia told her. “For all I know, most likely not.”
“I want you to meet someone.” Pull said, pulling her over to the other mare in the room. “Ocellus, I’d like to introduce you to the light of me life, Lens. Lens, this is the Changeling that has changed our lives.”
“So, you’re The Beatle that everyone’s talking about,” Lens said, offering a hoof for her to shake.
Ocellus took the hoof in hers. “I’m sorry, but how do you two know each other?”
“She’s me wife.” Pull explained. “I met her after the band broke up in the sixties.”
“Okay, so what’s that?” She pointed at the guitar case.
“Funny story,” Lens said, “Not too long ago, I was going through the attic to clean it out. You know, throwing junk out and such. At first, I decided to throw this out as Pull here rarely plays on it. But an hour later, I got word from that he’s been offered ten-million bits if he just writes songs. So, thinking that maybe I shouldn’t throw this out, the garbage collector came by and tossed this into the truck. Then I had to run down the street to get him to stop so I could pull this back out. So after I came up here, Pull and I started talking. He said that he doesn’t see the use of playing it anymore so… maybe we should give this to you. As saying thanks for changing our lives.”
“Chances are,” Pull added, “You might need this more than I do.”
Curious, the young Changeling sat the case down and, after unlocking the latches, she opened it and gasped. Inside covered in a layer of dust as a bass guitar. One that had a slightly longer neck, four strings, had a pair of dials at one end of the sound body in which it was shaped like a violin. For the Changeling, she recognized the instrument almost immediately. This wasn’t just any bass guitar; it was the guitar that was as iconic as the band she knew.
“Is this…?”
Pull nodded. “My instrument when we were The Beatles. Since I’ve been neglecting it for a while, I figured that maybe it should be put into good use. I’m giving it to you.”
Ocellus shook her head. “No… No this… I don’t know if I can accept this.”
“Why not?” Lens asked. “It’s just an old guitar.”
“For you, yes. But to me… this is like being hoofed over a sacred artifact. I don’t know I’m allowed to touch it.”
“Here,” Pull said, his hoof outstretched, “lend me your hoof.” She did so, and he immediately brought it over to the neck of the instrument. “I, Pull McCart hereby allow Ocellus the Changling to touch this holy guitar. May she rock out with it long into the night. Amen!” Although Ocellus immediately withdrew, Pull chuckled. “Here,” he pulled the guitar out of its case, “give it a go.”
Taking the instrument into her hooves, she plucked the open chords that, although it did sound deep, couldn’t help but noticed that it sounded funny. All of a sudden, Dawn was laughing so she asked why.
“I knew I was forgetting something!” He said. “Pull’s strings are on backward.”
“Huh?”
“He’s left-hoofed. Back when we had the band, Pull couldn’t play the guitar like normal so he had to pull the strings out, and reattach them so that to anypony else, it would be like playing it upside-down!”
“Oh…” Pull said, taking the guitar back with an embarrassed blush. “I completely have forgotten about that.”
“Okay,” Ocellus cleared her throat. “It’s actually a really good thing you’re both here because I need your help.”
“On what?” Dawn inquired.
Ocellus told them what had happened this morning, of the multitude of fans, and her agreeing to do an impromptu concert tomorrow night. When she finished, she added. “Also, if it’s not too much trouble, I was wondering if you could help me out with a couple of ideas that I think might interest you two.”
“Yeah?” Pull asked. “And how do they go?”
“Let’s see uh…” Ocellus rubbed her temples, concentrating on how exactly the songs go. “There’s one called Help!”
Dawn jerked. “Lady, there’s no need to scream.”
“No, that’s what it’s called.”
In the corner, Octavia took out a mug in which it was filled with tea. “This is going to be a long day.” She muttered.
If Ocellus was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to perform for a mob of fans that have doubled by the time, she was ready to perform. Not because out of stage fright for having to get up and sing to Celestia-knows-how-many. Nor is it over her safety as a couple of puffs of Smolder’s firry breath proved to even the most fanatical of fans that getting too close was not a good idea.
She was truly worried if the speakers that she had to borrow would be enough for everypony to hear her. Almost as far as the eye could see in every direction, ponies have climbed onto roofs, on trees, even stacking on each other. For the more winged fans, they brought down clouds in droves to the point that she could barely make out the night sky. There were even places on the hills where some were renting a telescope so that they could see her for about a minute at a time.
For good measure, someone had even brought out spotlights to shine onto the top of the windmill’s roof. Ocellus wasn’t sure where exactly the lights came from. Maybe one of her friends got it, but either way, the improvised stage is lit up like a Hearths Warming tree.
Inside the windmill, Ocellus peeked through one of the small windows. “There’s so many out there,” she said, “I didn’t think they would be this many already. We didn’t put out the first record yet.”
“Who cares?” Gallus said, “Do you know how many tickets I was able to sell?”
“Yes,” Sandbar deadpanned, “we could tell by the mountain of bits that’s downstairs right now.”
“To be fair,” Dawn commented, “I don’t think anypony would have seen this coming. Although I can picture that it’s gonna get pretty noisy out there in a minute.”
The Changeling looked back to not only to Dawn and Pull, but to her friends as well. “What exactly do I do if they’re being so loud that I can’t hear myself play?”
Pull put a hoof on her shoulder. “Listen, as long as you’re on that stage, you must remember the number one rule as a musician. That no matter what happens, you keep going. Even if you can’t hear yourself think, you keep on playing until the end.”
“You can do this,” Silverstream spoke up. “You’ve been amazing at the school dance and at that recital. So, I think you’ll be fantastic here too!”
“Hippogriff right,” Yona said with a smile, “Changeling got this.”
“It’s almost time,” Sandbar announced, looking at another window towards the clocktower. “So Ocellus, are you ready?”
Looking down at the violin-like guitar, although she was against it at first, telling Pull that she wasn’t familiar with playing the base, he had rearranged the strings to the way she would be familiar with, and her music teacher pointed out that she could play it fine as long she moved her hoof up an octave or two. She nodded. “I think so.”
“Great!” Gallus said from the beams of the windmill. “I’ll go out there and bring the hype to them. In the meantime, do what you gotta do.” The griffon went up the stairs to go through the trap door and onto the stage.
Smolder approached her friend who was taking deep breaths. “Hey, before you go up there, Headmare Twilight told me to give you some of these.” Stretching out her arm, she held in her claws a pair of green earplugs. “She figured that since it’s gonna be really noisy out there, you might as well put these in so that you wouldn’t go deaf when you’re playing.” At that moment, there was a roaring cheer from outside as they could hear Gallus saying something. “Looks like I gotta go. Need to head to the front door before they storm it.” She shook her hoof. “You’re gonna do fine out there.” With that, she quickly went downstairs.
Turning to the songwriters, she asked, “But, how am I be able to hear what I’m playing?”
“Well, your head knows what it’s doing before the rest of you do, right?” Dawn asked.
“He’s right.” Pull added. “Whatever you do, don’t doubt yourself. The moment you think you can’t do it, you’ll collapse. Before you step onto that state, believe that you will sing out every note and hold onto that as long as you can.”
Ocellus thanked both of them before picking up the guitar and walking up the steps to where Gallus was getting the crowd hyped up. She took this time to put those earplugs in, letting them swell up until the sound became somewhat muffled, but not the point where she couldn’t hear anything. Besides the sound of her heartbeat, she could still pick up on the cheering and Gallus getting them ready.
And then, they heard the chiming of the clocktower.
It was time.
“AND NOW!” Gallus shouted over the loudspeakers. “FOR THE MOMENT YOU ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! HERE SHE IS! THE BEATLE!”
Ocellus pushed the trapdoor open, and there in the open air was a microphone, the buttons for her to help play her the songs, some very bright lights that blinded her from the full extent of the fans that were screaming at her in excitement, and the shadow of Gallus flying off.
She paused for a moment to breathe before stepping forward to the microphone, plugging the guitar in. “How is everyone doing?” she asked, getting a maddening shout of excitement. “With that, let’s get started with a good one, huh? I’ll start this off with a song called, ‘I Feel Fine.’”
Looking down, she adjusted her hoof down the neck before strumming the first note.
On the loudspeakers, there was a thump, a wobbly sounding feedback and then, she pressed a button with a hoof and began to play. Playing ten seconds of a simple riff before she starts to sing, in which, she was immediately drowned out.
It was beyond annoying for Ocellus. She could barely hear the tempo of the song she was singing, let alone what she was playing on that guitar. However, she closed her eyes and focused on the song itself. It was like singing aloud in the middle of a battlefield among the continuous screaming. As much she wants to have a thought about if this what it must have been like for The Beatles she knew when they became popular, she couldn’t as she had to remain focused.
Meanwhile, down below at the base of the windmill, Smolder was scanning about for anypony foolish enough to get too close, and even if they did, she gave a puff of a fireball as a warning before they backed off. The dragoness stood at the only door in or out of the mill, her back against it before the hysterical fans. It wasn’t that she minded doing what was essentially guard duty for her friend, if only they were a little quieter.
Then she noticed a particular fan that was starting to get a little too close. In the light, she saw a chubby looking stallion. A blond unicorn who was light green and had an owl for a cutie mark and a camera in his aura.
“You’re getting too close,” Smolder warned him over the loud music.
But the fan either didn’t hear her or he’d ignored her. Regardless of the reason, she made her presence known by blowing a small fireball. It suddenly got his attention.
“H-Hey!”
“I said you were getting too close.” She said, “Back away.”
“C’mon, I wanna get close enough to get some good shots.”
Smolder looked up for a moment. “At what? You could barely see at this angle.”
“But I’m her number one fan!” He said, “I’ve formed a fan club and everything.”
“You just wanna get in here and interrupt her, do you?” She said dryly.
“No. I just to take a picture with her and get an autograph.”
Smolder shook her head. “I think now is the worst time. I mean she just started playing.”
“So… When can I see her?”
“Maybe after the show,” she shrugged, “but no promises.”
The stallion thought it over for a moment, “Well… if she can’t, then could I at least see her tomorrow?”
The dragoness frowned. “If you’ve made a reservation.”
“She has one of those? Well, my name is Aficionado and-”
“I was joking,” Smolder said sternly, her patients with this fan growing thin. “Now just stay back and try to enjoy the show.”
Dejected, Aficionado backed off just as Ocellus began to sing the next song.
As Ocellus began her next song, Gallus was pulling a cart full of trinkets through the screaming crowd. Mostly necklaces that had a medallion of a beetle in his friend’s colors, glowsticks that were in light blue, and bottles of cheap water.
“Get your genuine, limited edition Beatle necklace, glow stick and water!” He called out over the shouting crowd. “Souvenir, light, and hydration! Right here!”
He felt a tug on his wing and looked over to a dozen mares that he assumed to be his age.
One of them asked, “How much for the necklace?”
“Five bits,” he said, gesturing over, “the glowsticks are ten, and water is a bit.”
“We’ll take twenty.”
A hefty bag was tossed at him, much to his delight while the mares picked up some of the necklaces.
“Hey,” one of them asked, “do any of them come with her face on it?”
“Not yet.” He shrugged. “For now, that’s her symbol.”
“Did she make these herself?”
“Would you buy another if I said yes?” She nodded. “Yes.”
“She sounds so good.” Gallus turned to a stallion who said this, “She should make a record.”
“Ya know,” he told him, “from what I’ve heard, they’re putting together one.”
“Yeah?” This got the attention of the fans within earshot. “When is it coming out?”
The griffon shrugged. “No idea, but I think it should be soon. With probably more on the way.”
“She has more songs?” Another fan asked.
“How many has she made?”
“How did she get so good?”
“Did she have any help writing them?”
Gallus was being overwhelmed by being asked so many questions at once that there was no way for him to answer any of them. It got to the point where he had to put a couple of talons in his beak and blew a loud whistle. They stopped asking questions.
“You done?” He asked. “Look, I’m just a guy selling Beatle’s memorabilia, not her manager. Now do you want any of this stuff or not?”
A minute later, Gallus moved on further into the crowd, making his pitch and pocketing his money. All the while, when he was looking over at the sheer number of fans, he was thinking. There was a part of his reasoning that if more ponies spread the word about his friend than more ponies would want a little something that they’re willing to throw money at them. Perhaps, when the album comes out, he could get her to sign them before turning around and selling them to others. Maybe he could commission someone to make dolls of Ocellus – she was adorable enough that the appeal would probably skyrocket.
‘I wonder if I could start up tours to show ponies around Ponyville, and just point around saying that this is where she came up for this or that song. Hm… nah, that won’t work? What if I sell postcards with her picture on it? Hm… maybe, but wouldn’t they want more than that like a mug or a poster? Or how about I go find a place that makes custom bobble-head dolls…? No, too corny. Oh! I got it! Make life-size cardboard cut-outs. Well, then again, with all these good ideas, maybe I should open up a gift shop just outside of the school.’
‘Goddess, this is torture!’ Ocellus thought to herself after she played about twenty-five minutes of music. It was almost half-an-hour, and already her hindlegs felt they were ready to crumble and fall. Her forehooves went numb after the first four songs she did. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she was playing the right notes, or if any of the never-ending wails of the audience understood a word of what she said.
However, despite how tired she was, regardless of how much sweat that was running down from the marathon of a performance, she knew that she was almost there. Just two more songs.
She tapped on the microphone. “Excuse me, everyone? May I have your attention please?” Mercifully, a minute later, the mob of fans has calmed down somewhat for her to speak. “Before this is over, I just wanna say thank you all for coming out here tonight.” There was a shout before she continued. “However, before this can be over, I’m happy to tell all of you that I have been working with the genius songwriters, Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon, and over the course of twenty-four hours, we were able to come up not one, but two new songs. That means you’re all going to be the first to hear it be performed live.” They shouted in excitement. “So, are we ready to hear them?”
The maddening shrieking gave the answer.
“Okay, first up, is a song called A Hard Day’s Night.”
There were some cheers as Ocellus looked down at the guitar and at the last two buttons that she hadn’t pressed. So, with a strung of chords, she pressed one of the buttons and she began to sing. Perhaps in hindsight, she realized that there was a personal irony to having her sing this. Being worked day and night on this concert, trying to memorize every note of not only the songs she had recorded but the newer ones as well in time. On the one hoof, she hated every moment of being on that stage because of how rushed this all was. She had little time to prepare, and lesser time to get ready. Maybe this was one of the reasons why the original Beatles broke up. Because she couldn’t imagine doing something like this night after night, in city after city. If she did this too often, she might end up snapping.
On the other hoof, she was falling in love with it. A month or so ago, she couldn’t imagine herself of being a kind of rock star, playing music from one of the greatest bands of all time that she was reintroducing the world to. As draining as it was, being ready to almost drop, she could feel the love from the audience that they were freely giving her. She knew that as long as she was on that stage playing, they were there to give her enough energy, just enough to keep her going until the end of each song. While a vicious cycle, something was intoxicating about having a huge audience that was all paying attention to her in the spotlight. At one moment, she thought that as long as stuff like this was done sparingly, she might get used to this.
Within a moment, she got to the point she most difficult part – the riff. A move in which it took Ocellus hours over this deceptively simple solo. Trying as hard as she could to make sure that each note is where it needed to be in the right order at the right time. As much as she was stressing out of making sure she got it right, it was certainly a crowd-pleaser as she could hear the roar, even when the earbuds were still in her ears.
From there, it was easy as she finished out the last verse of the song and ending it smoothly. She sighed in relief. That was one song down. Just one more and then she could collapse somewhere. The Changeling looked out to the crowd, stepping back so that they wouldn’t hear her panting. Giving herself a moment as well as the crowd to settle down just a little before giving them their finale.
When she stepped up to the mic, that without any introduction, she stomped on the last button and burst out the very first word of the song. “HELP!”
Below at the windmill, Smolder looked up as soon as Ocellus said that. At first, she wasn’t sure if her friend was calling out for help or singing. But either way, it certainly got her attention. Although it took her a moment to determine which one, her ears were perked up as she listened to – in her mind at least – Ocellus venting out. She listened to the lyrics closely, and for some reason, there was something genuine about hearing her insecurities on stage. She could hear it in her voice, the sound of annoyance, anxiety, desperation, dread, all coming out of the speakers – pleading for help. It came out in a raw but never appeared as unpleasant to the ear.
‘Goddess, she’s pushing herself too far.’ Smolder thought. ‘She must be stressed out beyond belief up there. I mean, on top of the stuff that’s due at school and this, Ocellus needs to have a break. Maybe I could talk to Headmare Twilight to have her be excused for a day or so before she snaps.’
The dragoness listened to how since Ocellus’s life has changed that she expressed that her independence and security have seemed to have disappeared, that she needs help. Actual help. Perhaps with all the money, they’ve made, they should probably get Ocellus to a place where she could relax. Maybe the local spa could lend a hoof.
Chances are, the rest of her friends are probably thinking of the same thing.
A minute or so later, Ocellus had finished with the song. “That’s all I have everyone, thank you and good night.” The changeling said to the thunderous applause before turning away towards the trap door and wobbling her way down.
Ocellus was greeted by Silverstream and Sandbar, “Well done up there!” Sandbar congratulated her. “That was the best.”
“T-Thanks.” She said, her hooves buckling. “I uh… I need to sit down…”
“You were great up there!” Silverstream told her with a smile. “I can say now that I’m officially a fan-”
Thump!
Ocellus was on the floor. Mercifully the guitar had missed her exhausted body hitting the floor and falling asleep.
“She okay?” McCart asked in concern while Yona and Lemon rushed over.
“I think she really worked herself out,” Dawn said, moving the guitar aside. “I’m surprised her hooves aren’t bleeding.”
“Tell me about it,” Sandbar agreed. “She must be exhausted. We should get her to bed.”
“Put Ocellus on Yona’s back,” the ponies and the hippogriff helped the sleeping Changeling onto the Yak’s back in which her hooves dangled off. “Ocellus worked hard. Ocellus needs rest.”
“I think she’d deserved it.” Dawn nodded. “Maybe a couple of days or so at least.”
“Of course…” Pull pointed out, “We gotta get past all the fans first. At least it’s a good thing we have a dragon to clear the way.”