//------------------------------// // Forgive and Forget // Story: The High Note // by FlashFoward //------------------------------// “I take it that the date went well?” Roast asked while you skipped into the café the next day. “Went well? Ha, better than I ever could imagine!” You make a beeline to the counter and happily bang at it. Roast eye’s your banging and you immediately stop. “Good. I heard from Rose things started rough though.” Your happy go lucky smile flips upside down. “Don’t remind me, Melody and Greg’s date fell apart and Greg ended up sitting by us for a bit. Who is this Rose anyway?” “Rose is the owner of La Palma. Why do you think the place had so many darn plants?” Roast asked this question like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That might explain a lot.” You reply gruffly. “What happen after the dinner date?” It was easy to tell this is what Roast really wanted to know. You couldn’t suppress the blush that filled your cheeks. “Well I walked her back home and that’s pretty much it.” Roast didn’t buy your weak story. “Lies, there is more to it.” “There is...it’s just.” How odd it was, not being able to tell Roast anything about last night. He was one of the few ponies you would trust with anything, even your life. But this was a touchy subject. “It’s fine, talk about when you feel like you’re ready.” Even if Roast gave an understanding nod, he still looked a little down. Feeling guilty never suited you. Dad really capitalized on that weakness of yours whenever you would miss a note as a kid. Seeing dad sigh and gave a disapproving shake of his head ate away at what little confidence you had. It was when you finally started to respect yourself a little more is when dad’s disappointment didn’t drag you down so much. He must have realized that, since he started threatening you if you refused to play. Through the whole mess, all you wanted was your dad’s approval. But that seemed like such a distant goal now. The last and only show your dad came to see you in was a simple band show back at school. That was to be the day when dad was going to finally give the recognition you ever so wanted. Sadly, during one of the last songs of the show, you slipped up. No, it wasn’t to the point where every pony would mummer about your mistake. So small and easily could be missed from all the other instruments playing and with a novice ear for music. However, dad was no novice in the slightest. It broke your heart to see his long face at the end of the show. Mom offered praise, like she always did, but dad remained stony faced. Last night’s ending was nothing compared to you and Octavia’s little make out session. Still, the walk to her house was a pleasant one. She had complimented you and your skills on the piano while you two walked. Her compliment really caught you off guard. Many ponies complimented you on your skills, but this coming from Octavia meant a lot more to you. The outside of her house looked a lot any of other buildings in Canterlot, in all its white marble glory. Octavia gave you a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before going in. What were the looks inside of her home would remain a mystery to you. Maybe you just couldn't tell Roast how anticlimactic the ending of the date was or just part of you wanted to keep that memory to yourself. “I can’t thank you enough Roast for last night.” You mutter after a moment’s silence. “Think nothing of it lad. Anyway, shouldn’t you be practicing?” Your eyes shoot wide open in horror. “Uh…” “I would get moving if I were you.” No sooner does Roast finish his sentence is when you pushed through the doors and made a mad dash to Note Theater. This is the last thing you needed, to be late and make Melody look superior over you. One thing was in your favor, even if it wasn’t much. Greg was pretty annoyed with her right now. It wasn’t much to grab at, but it’s better than thinking negatively. For some reason, the Note Theater bared no sound today. No sounds of instruments penetrated through the walls and spilled all over the busy streets of Canterlot. You couldn’t help get your hopes up at the idea you might be early, even earlier than the rest. All the instruments were left on the stage, which wasn’t new. You settle at the seat behind the piano and look around the stage, your eyes finally resting where the cellist would play. More than ever, you wanted an audience present. Not a large one, just Octavia would do. The song sheets had been left on your piano and you take the time to practice a bit. After what felt like hours, playing on the piano started to get tiresome. There wasn’t a pony that entered the Theater while you practiced. Had you been late or maybe Greg was just to down in the dumps to bother showing up today? “A workaholic like you even needs a break.” A rather frilly voice interrupts your focus. Melody could be seen trotting down the Theater and making her way to you. Anger and spite flows through your veins at the sight of her. “Had fun breaking hearts yesterday?” “Oh, don’t sound so mean about that. You know as well as I do that Greg has little to say about who becomes the pianist. Besides, I thought Greg and you didn’t like each other. Why feel bad for how I treated him?” True, Greg and you weren’t on the best terms. “That is true.” It suddenly occurred to you that you didn’t know what lead to Greg’s outburst. “By the way, what did you do to him?” “Idiot tried to kiss me when I was looking at you and Octavia having so much fun.” Melody muttered darkly. “After that, I told him to back off. He believed that he could get me the pianist spot with ease. I told him he was a no talent scrub after that.” “I would think that would tick off anypony. Sad to hear how about what Greg did.” You reply, actually starting to feel a little bad for Melody now. “No matter, I got my message through his egotistical head.” Melody took a seat by your side and made no move to start rubbing your leg, so you don’t try to scoot away from her. “Look at that, you’re actually sitting next to me without nearly falling of this chair.” “Don’t make me consider it. Speaking of sharing seats and piano’s, why don’t you use the other one?” Melody shoots a glance at the black piano you gestured to. “Well, I’ve actually heard you play before. I wanted to get a closer look while you played, figured this would be my only chance at such an opportunity.” You couldn’t help but rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “I’m not that great.” “Oh, come now.” Melody brought her face closer to yours. “We both know your underrating yourself.” “I haven’t seen you play yet. For all I know, you could start giving me lessons.” Melody started laughing and stopped when she noticed how serious you looked. “Didn’t I tell you I needed to rely on my dad’s influence to get the spot?” You simply nod, knowing this was true. “I need to tell you something.” Melody whispered. The front doors of the Theater could be heard opening and you tilt your head to see who it might be, only to be held in place with Melody’s firm hooves. “What?” You reply a little impatiently, trying to tilt your head to see who walked in. “Come closer.” Melody pleaded, she sounded a little desperate. You roll your eyes but do as told. “Closer.” If you had gotten any closer, your muzzles would be bumping into each other. “Enough games, just tell me already.” You demanded while a mares voice could be heard, she sounded awfully familiar to you. Melody leans in and, before you know it, is kissing you on the lips. Unlike with Octavia, you didn’t feel entranced or let alone enjoyed the feel of Melody’s lips. To your horror, you could see the mare, who had been speaking before, was none other than Octavia, Greg accompanying her. You push aside Melody, who let out a shriek at your sudden actions, and quickly try to get over to Octavia. Tears were gracing her face and you started to feel like a monster for doing this to her. Greg was giving you an uglier look then he has ever thrown your way. He was the least of your worries though. All that mattered right now was explaining the situation to Octavia. “Octavia, please, I can explain.” You beg desperately, trying to grab her hoof to reassure her. She pulls her hoof from your grasp and you know better not to pursue. Her hoof rises into the air and descends to smack you right on your jaw. Once her hoof makes contact with your jaw, you can’t help but remember how dad would vent his frustration on you this way at times, a loud crack echoes through the Theater. A burning feeling starts to form where Octavia had slapped you. “I trusted you!” Octavia whimpered, her voice cracking which only made you feel even worse. Without notice, she turns her back on you and runs for it. Every fiber of your body screams at you to go after her. But you knew better, seeing you again would only make her feel worse. Had it been only yesterday that the both of you shared that tender moment? It felt so distant now. The warm and beautiful look of her eyes was now replaced with sadness and confusion and it was your entire fault. “You,” All the rage in your heart targeted Melody, who wore a sly smile. “you planned this from the start you witch!” Melody threw you a casual wink and left the Theater as well. She laughed and this only further annoyed you. Without thinking, you blindly charge at Melody and was stopped short by Greg. Instead of his usual angry look her reserved for you; he now looked down at you in pity. “Being used to?” This was more than you can bear. The only mare you cared and looked forward to seeing to everyday… gone. For the first time in ages, you broke down and cried. Dad always said that was for the weak and deserved what they got. Mom believed that crying cleansed the soul of sorrow and guilt. More than ever, you hoped she was right. Greg let you calm yourself down, which took a fair amount of time. “That’s enough. Nothing is going to get better if you just sit here and cry.” Greg snapped, sounding a little gentler to you than usual. “She hates my guts right now! What can I do?” You choke out before breaking into renewed tears. “What can you do? No, what you should do is what you need to ask.” Greg helped you back up and gave you a firm pat on the back. “Do I have a chance?” Greg opened his mouth and closed it. He knew how much weight his next few words will carry for you. “Yes, go down trying at least.” Usually, it was Roast who you would lean on for advice. Not this time though. The only pony that could give you a fighting chance was… “Nate!” You shout once you storm into the Musicians Friends store. The blind stallion had been sitting near a piano behind the counter. He looks mildly frustrated before addressing you. “Octavia just dropped by.” Your heart feels like it would shrivel up and die. “So, you know?” “Yes.” All hope had disappeared into nothingness. “I didn’t want this to happen.” You let out a sigh and slam your face against the glass counter. The glass cracks under your cheeks but this was the least of your cares. “Get your face off my counter.” Nate actually pulls you by the mane and brings your face level to his. He might be blind, but this didn’t seem to hinder him at all. “I have hope for you.” “You believe that I had no intention for that to happen?” You couldn’t help but feel relieved. “I believe that you’re the right one for her. So, yes, I guess I have to believe your story.” Nate muttered and let go of your mane. “I have to talk to her, explain that this isn’t what I wanted.” “She is either heading home or taking refuge with a friend. Worse comes to worse is that…” Nate trails off and shudders. “Nate, please, I need to know where she might go.” “She might be in a club drinking away.” Okay, now you could see why Nate was nervous at the idea. “Thanks. Any good guesses about her friend?” “Vinyl is a mare that comes to mind. You could also try Juliet and Amber. However, I think Octavia and Vinyl are closer friends.” Nate informs. “How can you tell? What does Vinyl do anyway?” How Nate was able to dissect information with just his ears was amazing. “The tone of their voices says everything. It sounded more friendly and caring. Similar to how Octavia addresses me and you. Vinyl is a DJ that plays here every once in a while.” Nate’s eyes look glazed over, a gray film lingering around as well. This didn’t stop him from giving a rare smile. “A DJ, that only means that…” “Yes, Vinyl will be keeping an eye over Octavia if she ends up in a club.” “Should I worry about that?” Since you had close to no idea how Vinyl was, you braced for the worse. “If you consider the situation now, yes, this could be something to worry about. I wouldn’t worry much about Vinyl, she mainly works in Ponyville.” “I can’t thank you enough Nate.” You really meant this as well. “Get going.” Nate shooed you away and turned his attention to his piano. Checking out Octavia’s house seemed like the smartest move right now. Perhaps she’d have the sense in drinking inside the comforts of her house, rather than going to a club? All this wishful thinking is mainly due because you don’t want to contend with a drunk Octavia in public again. You are able to recall the entire route to Octavia’s house by memory alone. As if it would be a crime to let such small details slip through your mind. The small water fountain in the park, a tree that had pleasant chirping birds in their nest, Note Theater, all these little things helped you find your way to Octavia’s. Finding her house might have been easy if it actually stood out in Canterlot. While standing at her front door, two things dawn on you. First is that you’re shaking slightly and second that there were small lines of a light purple around the frames of windows and doors on her house. It had her flare while remaining truly traditional to the Canterlot setting. You give yourself a little shake to fight of your nerves; this doesn’t help, and anxiously knock the door. There wasn’t a sound of shuffling from within the house to get to the door. She was ignoring your efforts, but you weren’t going to give up. You give another patient knock and wait a little longer, pressing your ear against the door now to pick up any sound. There was a click of a lock and the door sprang open. Without the door supporting your stance, you fall flat on your face on the wooden floor of Octavia’s home. “Ugh, it’s you again.” Yep, she was still pissed off. There was a noticeable slur in her words, your previous assumptions were right. You raise your head up and look into Octavia’s eyes, which glared dagger at you. “Can we talk? I need to explain myself.” “Let me think about that.” Octavia mockingly tapped her chin a few times. “No!” She slams the door on your face. The pain was nearly unbearable and you covered your face with your hooves, hoping to protect yourself from another attack. “I won’t move until you hear me out Octavia.” “That’s a shame then. Hope you’re not fond of your face then.” Octavia whispers before slamming the door on you again. Did you deserve this abuse? Probably not, this was all Melody’s fault. Well, no, it was yours to. You should run at the sight of her entering the Theater. So much regret and guilt was settling in your heart. Was this going to be the story of your life? Always looking back, wondering what could have been if you performed correctly? Dad was right; being perfect had its rewards. Nopony could blame you if nothing was wrong about you. However, mom was annoyed with the idea of you being perfect. “Perfect? That’s impossible! Making mistakes is normal! Even you and I mess up!” Mom snapped at dad one day. “That’s why I want him to try! Make his standards for much more superior to his contenders!” Dad snapped back. “Oh please, for what? Sacrifice what little self-dignity he has for music? You want him to be a slave to music?” Their screaming and yelling was so loud. They had no idea that you laid wide awake in your bed upstairs, listening to every word of their dreadful conversation. Your temple ached terribly due from dad smacking the back of your head, which forced your head to bounce off the piano keys, when you refused to play A flat major. Mom wasn’t to know and, frankly, it felt pointless to snitch. “Not a slave, I want to mold him into a master of it.” Dad responded gruffly. “All right, fine, he might become talented beyond measure. At what price? The two of you don’t exactly get along.” Mom hissed back. There was a moment of silence. Seemed like mom hit dad in a place where he never expected. “I’m doing him a favor.” “That’s what you call it? For shame Oscar, be a real father to him for once. I promise you, it won’t hurt.” A slight cough cuts through the tense air. “I see your health isn’t getting much better.” Dad says grimly. “Ha, I plan to live a very long life, far longer then you. Besides, I want to see our boy grow up.” Mom let another cough slip out. “Let’s see about that.” Was mom seeing this? Was she crying? Was she mad at your failure to remain loyal? Did she dearly hope that dad would have improved? In a way, you became the monster mom didn’t want you to become. Cold, calculating, in a love-hate relationship with the piano, this was you. The only thing that brought joy in your life was smashing your face in with a door. Wait, Octavia wasn’t slamming the door on you now. Celestia knows how many time she hit you before you returned from memory lane. All you knew was that your face ached with all the punishment that came your way today. You rub your face with your hoof to relieve some of the throbbing and see any signs of blood. Nope, your coat was free of the substance. “Are you done yet?” Your eyes shoot up and see Octavia standing there, looking down at you with a look of annoyance. “Don’t make me consider doing it again.” Octavia lashed back coldly. You laugh at the bitter idea. “Like I said, I’ll wait all day.” “Fine, get up.” Octavia turned her back on you and walked to the dining room. Getting up was surprisingly easy, the headache you’ve been given was of the only hindrance. Still, you slowly follow Octavia into the dining room. There was a fairly large chandelier hanging over the table and a rather pristine carpet graced the floor. A few bottles of wine had lingered on top of the table, which made you feel a little nervous. Octavia took a seat at the head of the table and stared at you while you take a seat across the table. “Well, explain yourself.” You let out a sigh. “I didn’t know if there was a practice at the Theater today. Naturally, I didn’t want to be late so I came anyway. While I was practicing alone, she came.” “Melody?” “Yeah, she took a seat by me as usual and started to talk about her failed date with Greg. Wasn't long before she caught me off guard and you know...” “What was the deal with their date anyway?” Octavia’ expressions barely softened, but you felt happier anyway. “Greg offered Melody the pianist spot and he tried to kiss her. Melody got annoyed, called him a no talent scrub, and you know the rest.” “That’s kind of sad, trying to win her over with the position. She hasn’t even played in practice yet!” You couldn’t suppress a faint grin. Even when Octavia was mad, she still defended you in some way. “To be fair, I haven’t played yet either.” “Not your fault that Greg can’t pull himself together.” Octavia grinned a little at the dismay of Greg’s failures. “If you had the chance to play though, everypony would fall in love with your skills.” Octavia might have complimented you, but her face was showing no signs of friendliness. “You flatter me to much Octavia. I can never see what other ponies see in me.” “Never notice the comforting and delicate feeling in the air when you play?” “Shame I don’t feel none of those when I play.” Octavia’s eyes gave away the concern she had for you now. “What do you feel when you play?” “Feelings of bitter memories and guilt are all I feel when I play.” You reply sadly. “I don’t understand.” Octavia whispered. “No pony does. Since I’m going to be honest, I didn’t enjoy the way I was trained to play the piano.” “Why didn’t you try something else if you didn’t enjoy it?” “Dad wanted me to become a pianist. I had no choice but to go with it.” You explain. “Was it really that bad?” You can only manage to nod. She didn’t need to hear about how he yelled and hit you through all those years. “I’m sorry to hear that.” There was no pity in her tone, it was sincere. “Eh, dad wasn’t all the supportive. I guess the worst part of it all was that…” Again, she didn’t need know your sad tale of your mothers passing. Surprisingly, Octavia got up and took a seat right next to you and even more so when she grabbed your hooves. “Please tell me.” Her eyes said it all, how she was willing to be there for you and will try to understand. “Mom was ill when she first saw me perform on a school show. It was only a few weeks after that is when she…” You couldn’t say it, you never could. Admitting it made the pain of your lose feel worse. A hoof starts rubbing your neck and the will to keep talking flares up again. “When she was gone, he only got worse. No pony could tell him to take it easy.” Why did she have to leave you with dad? Part of you was angry with her, for not taking action against him, while the other part felt pity that even she couldn’t talk sense into your old man. All her efforts were in vain, you became the monster that dad wanted you to become. You start to sob into the wooden surface of the table, not having the courage to face Octavia anymore. “I’m really sorry about everything Octavia. You know how much I hate Melody. Can you please forgive me?” You beg while continuing to sob. There was a moments silence and the gentle hoof around your neck tightened. Was she going to snap your neck? Another warm hoof wraps around neck and Octavia pulls you into a hug. Her warm delicate coat rubs against yours. You could hear the soft heartbeat of hers and wonder vaguely if Octavia can hear yours. “I forgive you.” Octavia gives you an affectionately nuzzles on your neck before squeezing your neck tightly. “Try not to let that happen again will you?” “I’m all yours.” You manage to reply with what little oxygen Octavia allowed you to breathe in. Maybe the next time when you play on the piano, you too will feel the comfort and delicate energy Octavia was talking about. There was still hope. Dad hadn’t taken all your self-dignity. As long as Octavia guided you, there was hope for somepony like you.