Clack
I sat comfortably in my chair, lulled into a trance-like state by the rhythmic clacking of our train. Our week long vacation had flown by on the wings of companionship and uncertainty. The source sat across from me in our small little compartment. Vinyl was asleep, had been for hours, knocked out by the same soothing rocking and whatever she was listening to.
She’d always been able to fall asleep basically on command, something I was more than a little jealous about. Our ride back was almost a full day of travel, so I was going to have to sleep eventually as well, but I never could get comfortable in such a public place. Locked compartment notwithstanding.
The rest of our week had been almost perfect. Vinyl took the task I gave her in the restaurant seriously, and spent the rest of that night researching and sourcing information from Las Pegasus locals. With that information she led us both on a fantastic tour of the city, hitting nearly any place she thought I might even be interested in.
Not once did she again mention skydiving.
The whole experience had me in something of a daze. I knew she knew something was wrong, but no matter how much I tried to play it off as worry about the recommendation, there was a part of me that still feared I’d been found out. Looking at her peacefully sleeping, it’d be a lie to say that I didn’t feel something. Thinking back to our first kiss in Night-Glo was usually enough to derail any train of thought.
What was I monologuing about?
Our trip had only made my own reservations worse. After all the effort she’d put into making our vacation entertaining, how was I supposed to live up to that? It was growing more obvious that her feelings were stronger than mine. Was that fair to her?
“I don’t know what to do,” I complained to the darkness outside the window. I just didn’t want to hurt her.`
“Something wrong, Tavi?” Vinyl muttered from across the compartment.
I jumped at the sound of her voice, immediately worried that I’d woken her or that she’d spent the last two hours watching me watch her. A quick glance at her face soothed my fears; with her glasses off it was obvious by her barely-open eyes that she was only the loosest definition of awake.
“No, I’m fine. Go back to sleep.” I leaned forward, grabbing and pulling her blanket back into place.
The train rocked, knocking me within range of Vinyl. Unerring in their accuracy her hooves shot forward, displacing the blanket that put me here in the first place, and pulled me to her side of the train.
I struggled in vain for a few minutes before giving up. Within the small range of movement Vinyl gave me, I pulled the blanket over the both of us and drifted to sleep.
The sun was up when I woke up, breaching the curtains over the compartment’s window in fits and starts as they swayed in time with our carriage. I looked towards the noise that had woken me, the sound of our compartment door sliding open. Vinyl stood half in the hallway, exchanging words with somepony outside.
We were thrown into darkness as the train entered a tunnel, signaling our final approach to Canterlot. Our compartment door slid shut, and a few seconds of fumbling and swearing from Vinyl later, the lamp clicked on.
Vinyl smiled as she turned back, seeing me awake. “Morning. Any trouble sleeping?”
“Morning, and no. I made the mistake of going within five feet of you while you slept. How close are we?”
“Conductor says about fifteen minutes out.” She moved the blanket from the bench and flopped down next to me. “Sorry if I kept you up.”
“You didn’t, it’s fine.” I slowly stretched my hooves in front of me, trying to work out the sore from sleeping cramped up against Vinyl. A hoof rubbed against the sensitive fur between my barrel and forehoof. I jumped, did not squeak, and pushed Vinyl against the wall of the carriage. “And just what do you think you’re doing?”
“Ish cute,” she said through squished cheeks, “when you schqueek.”
“I do not squeak,” I threatened.
“Of coursh not. What wash I shinking?”
I reluctantly let go and moved to the safety of the other bench before resuming my stretching. Suitably chastised, Vinyl left me be until the train was pulling into the station. She pulled my luggage from the rack as a peace offering, which I accepted gracefully. We joined the shuffling wave of ponies trying to disembark, then the line of ponies vying for a carriage somewhere in the city. From there, it was another short ride back to Canterlot University, our dorms, and the arduous task of unpacking.
“Dunwanna,” Vinyl said for the fifth time as we climbed the stairs of my dorm room.
“You have to unpack eventually, might as well do it right away,” I said again as we rounded the corner to my hallway. “I’m not going to do it for you.”
“I can live out of a suitcase, it’ll be fine!” She rushed ahead of me to the apartment’s door and pushed it open. With an overly-animated bow she said, “after you, m’lady.”`
“I hate you sometimes,” I said, pushing past her into the dorm. “Symphonia, we’re back!”
“About time.” Her voice floated down the hall from her customary place on the couch. “How was the trip?”
“It was awesome,” Vinyl said. She trotted past me into the apartment and began filling my roommate in on everything. I used the distraction to pull my luggage into the bedroom and start unpacking. There wasn’t really much there, but I wanted to get everything squared away. I finished quickly and rejoined the others in the living room.
“—following her all the way back to her room, though? I’d have thought you’d be tired of Octavia after being around her for a week straight,” Symphonia said. I saw her glance over her shoulder at me and smile.
“Not at all.”
“You’ll have to give her some space for at least a little bit.” Symphonia fully turned around to look at me. “Bent Bow was looking for you after practice yesterday. I told him you were coming back today.”
A quick glance at the clock confirmed he should be in his office. It was Thursday; I could meet him after practice tomorrow, but I had a feeling it was better to get it over with earlier. “Okay, I’ll go talk to him. Vinyl, go unpack or something.”
I turned to leave, but Symphonia jumped off the couch to bar my way. “Come back after, alone. There’s a couple of things I need to talk to you about too.”
Internally, I sighed. I’d been avoiding her since she’d given me the recommendation letter. She’d been there when I asked Bent Bow to talk the day after, and I’d refused to speak at all about the meeting. Any time she mentioned it, I brushed it off. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk to her, I just knew that she would try to talk me out of dodging the audition. She would eventually give in, but the extra stress wasn’t something I needed.
“I’ll walk you out,” Vinyl offered, not waiting for me to answer before heading towards the door.
For the briefest of moments, I entertained the thought they were in it together. Vinyl following me to my dorm, forcing me to confront Symphonia and the summons from my orchestral adviser, thereby laying the trap of a later conversation. Funny, but unlikely. I agreed to meet with Symphonia later tonight and followed Vinyl from my apartments.
“Think it’s about your recommendation?” Vinyl asked as we exited the dorm building.
“Probably,” I replied. “It’s about time for the actual audition information.”
Vinyl resituated her grasp on her luggage. “Maybe. Catch you later, Tavi, and don’t forget your promise to Symphonia!”
She walked off, waving over her shoulder as she left. Maybe a conspiracy wasn’t as far-fetched as I thought…
I spent the walk to the auditorium, and Bent Bow’s office, feeding into my imagination. During her research, Vinyl found a chance to slip away and give Symphonia the heads-up on my plans to dodge the audition. Worrying about me, like they both do, they worked together to hatch a plot wherein they convince me to audition anyway. The train of thought carried me all the way to Bent Bow’s office. I knocked, then forced the thoughts from my mind. The more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed.
“Enter,” called a voice from within.
I opened the door and stepped through, inclining my head to Bent Bow. “Symphonia said you were looking for me?”
He waved a hoof at a chair opposite him, on my side of his desk. As I sat, he said, “I hear you just returned from Las Pegasus. Have a good time?”
“Yes. My father was performing a show there, so I went to see it and sightsee for a week. It was fun.”
“Speaking of your father…” Bent Bow trailed off, digging through the mass of papers sitting on his desk. Finding the one he wanted with a quiet, ‘ah,’ he pushed a piece of cardstock over to me. “The details of your upcoming audition.”
I looked warily at the thick paper. It was in one month’s time, at the practice building favored by Father, at four in the afternoon. The song was one I already knew by heart, a cheerful piece I’d written as a school project for Mother’s birthday four years prior. Father took and adapted it for his full orchestra, and they’d used it in their very next show. “Thank you.”
“I know we talked about it, but I believe it bears repeating that I think you should do it,” Bent Bow said. “But it’s not my place. I shall see you tomorrow at practice, Miss Octavia.”
At the stallion’s dismissal I stood, inclined my head again, and left the office. The trip back to my dorm took as long as I physically could make it. After walking nearly every path I could on campus, including a quick stop to pick up dinner from the diner nearby, I finally made my way back home. Hopefully I could deflect some of my roommate’s ire with freshly baked goods.
“Symphonia, I’m back,” I called as I opened the dorm door. “I brought dinner.”
“Good, I was just getting hungry. Now we don’t have to eat before our talk,” she answered.
I took a deep breath and walked into the apartment. I set the food down first on our small living room table, followed by the audition card. Symphonia focused on that first, picking up and skimming over the small card. Her stern expression immediately softened, and she sighed. “Good. After you wanted to talk to Bent Bow when you got the recommendation, I thought you were going to turn it down. If you’ve got this, I must’ve been wrong.”
For a blissful moment I considered going along with it. I could pretend to go, then say that I didn’t make it in. It was fun though, but I knew I couldn’t follow through. I would hate lying to Symphonia, and a simple statement by Vinyl, Father, or probably even Aunt Rosin would immediately destroy my ruse. “I’m not doing it,” I whispered.
Symphonia set the note down. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
“I’m just not ready,” I said, trying to jump ahead of whatever she was about to say. “Especially not for Father’s orchestra. You’ve seen and heard me play, I’m not there yet. I might be, one day, but it surely won’t be in just a month.”
“Okay,” Symphonia stated simply. She tore into the bag of dinner and extracted some bread.
“And I really don’t think you can change my mind. Bent Bow tried, Father tried, even Vinyl tried, but I still don’t think I’m ready,” I continued.
“Alright,” she said through a mouthful of bread. “Can you pass me that glass of water?”
I did so. “That’s all I have to say on the matter. Can we just forget this and eat dinner already?”
It took a second for Symphonia’s responses, or more accurately the lack of, to break through my own short tirade. “Wait, you aren’t going to convince me to audition?”
“For the record, I think you’re wrong, and kind of an idiot,” Symphonia said, setting down her food. “I have heard and seen you play. The only thing you do better than play cello is sell yourself short. Bent Bow was over the moon when I convinced you to apply to Canterlot University, and even more so to the Student Orchestra. He only knew you by reputation, and a couple of performances from high school, but he saw your potential, all of us do. I also know exactly how much of a waste of time it would be to bludgeon you into doing it anyway.”
She took a bite of dinner, then pulled something out of the bag for me before continuing. “Why do you think Lyra gives you so much grief? Even with hooves you’re a better musician than she will ever hope to be. You were taught by three of the best musicians in Canterlot, and actually care about it. Plus, you wrote that song. I didn’t want to talk to convince you to audition, I wanted to talk so you’d talk to me. It… kind of hurt that you hid your plans.”
I wilted, immediately guilty. “I didn’t mean to… well, I did, but I mostly just wanted to avoid another lecture. I’m sorry.”
Symphonia nuzzled me, a rare display of affection. “I forgive you. But if you want to make it up to me, tell me all the juicy details of sharing a hotel with your marefriend for an entire week.”
“I officially rescind my apology,” I deadpanned, reaching for my chilling dinner.
“Alright, alright. Sorry, sorry. How about you audition to make up for it instead.”
“Symphonia!”