“And that's when I told him—straight to his face, mind you—that 'if he wants to be first chair that terribly, then he simply must spend his time practicing his craft regularly instead of wasting the hours ridiculing students who are far more dedicated than him!'”
Vinyl Scratch nods at her friend's words. She sits at a table in the library, scribbling music notes onto an evolving sheet of paper before her.
Seated beside her, Octavia Melody continues ranting as loudly as her posh, whispery breath can manage in such a “quiet” place.
“And do you know what he did?” Her pretty face frowns. A toss of her smokey hair and she gestures as she speaks: “He laughed at me! As if what I was saying had no impact whatsoever! No merit! And I know it was all rubbish—so did he! It was all an act! Besides, he was sweating as he laughed! I drew him into a corner after he had emptied himself of all his arrogant drivel! He simply had no other recourse but to play the red-faced joker and act as if nothing I had said had actually hit home!”
Vinyl nods again. She continues etching a composition into being, using the warm vibrations from her best friend's voice as a secret tempo.
“You know what it is, of course. Ego! Male ego! He absolutely loathes the fact that a woman talked back to him!” Octavia bears a bittersweet smirk. Laced with pride. “And with all of his arguments debunked and his fuel tank running on empty, he resorts to sheer cowardice! Laughing awkwardly and hoping against hope that a sexist slant in the room will win others to his side against me! Well, guess what?”
Without looking up, Vinyl shrugs one arm up in the air.
Octavia fills it. “Nobody had his back!” Octavia laughs into the back of her dainty hand as she tilts her chair slightly towards the ceiling.
A few tables nearby hiss at her to be quiet.
Vinyl squirms slightly.
Octavia clears her throat, silences herself, and sits up prim and proper. “In short, nobody else laughed,” she speaks barely above a whisper. “He made himself look like an even bigger fool... and ultimately he just... sauntered off to the far side of the room to bask in his own shame. To be honest, I don't feel too terribly bad for him. His jealousy had reached a boiling point and he thought he could fluster me in front of everyone—an instead he reaped the consequences set by his own karma.”
A slight smirk crosses Vinyl's face.
“You approve, love?”
Vinyl gives a thumb's up.
“Mmmmmm...” Octavia folds her arms with a soft smile. “Somehow I knew you would. You truly are such a wonderful listener, Vinyl. You don't only hear what a person has to say. You glean understanding from it.”
Vinyl's lips contort into a bashful smile. She shrugs and keeps sketching musical notes across the sheet.
“There... must be so much going on in that head of yours,” Octavia says. “To receive so much information and yet be exercising so much creativity at the same time.” Her cheeks rosied. “Even still—you find the time to humor me. Day after day.”
Octavia's friend considers gesturing something—or else she is halfway towards coming up with a response—when she feels a warm set of arms embracing her from the side. She instinctually locks up like a popsicle with no sign of melting.
Leaning in and enfolding her in a deep hug, Octavia speaks tenderly. This time, her whispering voice sends tremorous vibrations up and down Vinyl Scratch's spine.
“I really don't know what I'd do without you, love,” Octavia says. She purrs. “Since the last semester when we discovered each other—I swear—you've made this stressful life worth living.”
Vinyl gulps. She tries to smile, but her face is grimacing. Her nose feels like exploding.
“Like my perfume?” Octavia hums. Eyelashes flutter. “It's lilac. Your favorite. At least I think it's your favorite. Remember that house party at Pinkie Pie's that we attended? I wore some that evening and you were smiling all night.”
Vinyl eventually nods. She's still encased in Octavia's hug. Taking a shuddering breath, she returns to her notepad.
Octavia remains clinging to her. “I was so proud of you at that party,” she says. “You played that experimental remix of Blue Danube. While I've never been too terribly fond of that track, I could tell that you were thinking of me when you selected it...”
A nervous nod, and Vinyl keeps scribbling notes... notes... notes.
Like sweatdrops.