I had my eyes locked on her, her pace was strong and set with conviction, and I wouldn’t blame her. I pretended to make myself believe that Tavi had her mind set on regaining what she had lost, but I knew that she had grown unaware as to the disharmony within her. My quick trot wasn’t enough, and, at times, I found myself taking a double step gallop to catch up to her. The Doctor and Ditsy stared at me as I walked. I silenced Ditsy with a stare before I continued forward.
“Tavi! Octavia, I need to chat.” My informality had even seeped into my concern.
She continued her quick pace, but gave me a glance back. “What is it Victoria?”
“Excuse me? Victoria?” My committed speech ran into the recess of my mind. “I thought we agreed that you would never call me that in front of other ponies.” My defensive anger began to grow.
“One shouldn’t hide from their true name.” She still hadn’t slowed. I considered that a smart move on her part as my desire to clop her in the mouth began to grow.
“Stop acting like your some sort of ritzy, ditsy pony, Tavi.” I looked back at Ditsy. “No offense.”
She hadn’t even heard me and raised her ears at me. I knew she was going to ask ‘what?’ but I didn’t let her and turned back to Octavia.
“It is Octavia. Not this pet name of Tavi.” She gritted at me. I stared at her both in shock and in sadness. This wasn’t the same mare that I wanted to give my heart to. This wasn’t the mare that I had made that present for. I saw myself, as being delusional into thinking that this ‘graying’ was some sort of minor change and not a complete change in character. I wished that I could have my old, classy pony back, one that would still play in harmony with me.
“Octavia. Listen to yourself. When have you ever talked to Vinyl that way?” I turned around to see Lyra galloping up to the front. “You are letting the corruption win.” She bellowed.
Her words even caused my heart to stand still, even more so when I saw that Octavia had stopped. She chuckled at the ground before turning to Lyra, her face cracked in irritation and another emotion that I couldn’t distinguish. She had lost almost who she was completely, at an accelerated rate. I didn’t even know who I was looking at anymore. Her movements were stiff and shaky as her ears flapped on her head. The more I stared at her the more I found her appearance to be frighteningly broken and struggling. I wanted to reach inside of her and somehow save her, but I knew it was beyond me.
“Listen to myself? I would love to listen to myself. I would love to hear music again and not the same old sad songs I scribbled when I was sobbing in my room. I’ve lost everything, and I am as big as a failure as I had started.” Her voice was cracked and strained. She meant every word, but it wasn’t the Octavia I had just talked to, but the one that I knew. My heart fluttered in an almost sappy and romantic way, but now I understand why those mares fell so hard for those handsome stallions in those movies she made me sit through. The feeling was unrivaled and simply unlike anything that I had ever experienced. I had felt something with each of the stallions I was with, but she had a far different sensation that resonated through me like… well a lethal decibel bass drop.
“Octavia?” I found myself only able to say to her.
She turned to me with tears in her eyes. They had regained their color. It was then that I realized how much I enjoyed her eyes. Even after the short amount of time since her transformation and the time she has had her flanks in my face, I had began to miss the purple. People always comments on my eyes, but I felt I had nothing against Octavia’s. The more I thought, the more my mind wanted to be a cliché suck up and fall to her feet sobbing and wishing for her to come back. The more I thought about it the more I realized how that wouldn’t even work right, and amid the truth that I had fallen for my classical roommate, I wasn’t going to humiliate myself in front of her to make my confession.
The gray quickly began to return to her eyes as the tears dried up. She stared at me, almost in anger. “Just leave me alone… miscreants.” With that insult she stormed off to the front of the pack again. I returned to Lyra’s side.
“You tried your best. We need to get rid of Discord.” I whispered to her, trying to hold back my desire to run up to Tavi and tell her everything including what was contained within the locked box on her back.
“I don’t know how we are going to manage that. There is no putting a dent in that guy.” She admitted to me.
“Still… do you have any ideas as to what we can try?”
“None…” Lyra grunted. I don’t even see how we can think when everything is collapsing around us into a fridge of fudge-tastic follies.”
“Sounds like Pinkie Pie.” I affirmed, trying to take my mind off of the events around me, from the pony walking in front of me.
“I haven’t a single party that she has thrown. Bonbon and I always try to catch them. Bonbon bobs around while I normally bust out some shuffles.” I watched as she began to kick her legs and slide them across the ground. She had some moves to her, but I she had nothing on mine. I could only smile at that fact, but I avoided the thought.
“I’ve always enjoyed her parties as well, though the fun and overall happy tone is sometimes difficult to get used to. I prefer more serious, upbeat raves. The ones that cast in the dark of the clubs with the lasers lighting up the room of my adoring fans.”
My mind began to wander back to the time that I had my first successful gig. It wasn’t the most crowded of rooms, but it was still a sizeable group of ponies that expected to have their manes vibrate off of their heads. I had full intention of bringing a shiver down their spines and a new rhythm to their heartbeats. I stretched behind the curtain as I listened to the warm-up music beat into my head and pump me up. I jumped and cracked my neck, catching sight of the messenger colt, but I kept my back to him for dramatic effect.
“Ms. Scratch. You are on in thirty seconds.”
I had always grown to think that they would warn you when you had five minutes left, but instead I was caught off guard and almost tripped over my leg as I tried to turn to question the quickness of the message. Before my mind even had time to process the urgency of the time I had left to prepare, I was being pushed out into the lights and the cheer. No pony had even heard of me, and yet they cheered my stage name: DJ Pon-3.
It felt good. It felt right. It felt too soon, but I didn’t care. I climbed to the top of the disc jockey table and I threw my hoof into air and heard the roar from the ponies in the crowd. I commanded an army of thralls, and I wished of them to dance. My horn lit up and placed my records onto the turntables, putting the needle down and let the music slowly begin to set in and grow in volume. The sound was deafening and the roar of the crowd quickly vanished from my ears as my music exploded into life. The faces, the sweat, the collective movement of bodies, hitting, grinding, and rubbing moved in front of my eyes. I saw ponies dance while kissing, while others should have found a room. The followers were as dirty as the music, my group of people, yet one pony didn’t belong.
I didn’t know her then, but I knew her now. Pinkie Pie and her far more uptight and classier sister was hidden in the crowd. Pinkie had a nice smile plastered on her face as her perpetual sugar rush bumped to the bass. Her sister, on the other hand, had a look of distaste. I wanted to jump into the crowd and smack some sense into her. I wondered how Pinkie even managed to get her sister to come to this rave. I have never asked either of the time. I doubt Tavi even remembered that she had been to one of my raves way before we had even met. I doubt she even heard me arguing with the guards outside of one of her concerts.
My regular occurrences outside of her concerts getting into a bit of a ruff with the guards weren’t my attempt at actually trying to listen to her play. I wasn’t even interested in the little classical prodigy that she was. I saw her as a boring mare with a twenty-foot pole hidden up her rear. I remember trying to throw a pie at her just for the kicks of it. I can say that I have never seen a pony react as fast as her and not only duck it, but grab it out of the air and set it on the table next to her. That was when I learned her name was Octavia Pie, which only made it harder for me to consider that she had any of the sugar soaked blood inside of Pinkie. I figured that is why Pinkie had so much color versus her grayer sister.
It wasn’t long before the immature crashing of other parties began to bore me. I still enjoyed the occasional crash, but Octavia’s were by far the least successful. I couldn’t land any prank or joke on her, which only laid a foundation of admiration in the back of my mind. I enjoyed it greatly, so great that I wrote plenty of musical masterpieces from it. The beats became unpredictable and swift to symbolize her reaction times along with intense build-ups. It wasn’t long before I realized that I had created ten songs using her as my inspiration. I threw out the eleventh as I paced my empty house. There was no way that I was falling for that black and white mare. Given she was… well a she, she simply had no color to her and a lack of personality. I grunted at the idea. A knock at the door helped me escape my mind. I opened the door to find one of the other DJ’s that played around Equestria. The shock of being visited by someone as famous as Bass Drop was something that no DJ mare could take lightly to. I could have sworn my desires flipped instantly to him. I wanted him. I wanted him so that I could escape the thoughts of Octavia.
Sadly, that was not meant to be as she moved into my house a few days later. I avoided her as much as I could, and found that she avoided me just as much. It helped me keep my senses and not listen to the ever-increasing voice inside of my heart that wanted to see if there was a character behind that dull exterior. Conversation became inevitable, as I would sit at the dinner table eating my cereal. She would enter slowly, locking eyes with me before rolling them and opening the cupboards. Instead of the simple, she cooked up delicate foods. It looked and smelled wonderful. Nights of the temptation led to me stealing some of her food, which should have been all of her food, but I couldn’t bring myself to take all of it. Dirty looks still grew, but she never complained.
It wasn’t long before I forced myself to ask her how she did it. I even apologized for taking her food before, which felt so unlike me that I was sure that I was lying to not only her, but also myself. Talking became more common in the household and eventually I began to connect with her on many more levels. She had a personality that was biting and bitter as mine. We talked about politics of other lands, different cults, dragon castes, butterfly religions, and eventually music. I had always seen our music as incapable of being together, but they were similar, scarily similar. I still kept my distance and considered her as an acquaintance and that was all, not even a friend.
Then there was a night that changed everything and opened my eyes to what I had blinded myself to. I had my usual weekly house party with Bass Drop. We had the guests bumping and moving in the living room. I had kept the study closed off at the request of Octavia who had kept her things inside. I punched my hoof into the air to the beat as I grinned at the control that I had over my techno thralls. It felt good to feel the love coming from my guests. That was when I saw the study door open, and Bass Drop and two of his friends enter the room. He should have known more than any other pony not to enter that room so I went to investigate.
“Bass Drop?” I poked my head in the room.
There he sat with his two goons messing with Octavia’s things. It bothered me immensely that it was Bass who had broken the rules of the party.
“Oh, Scratch darling. We were just checking out your posh roommate’s stuff. I don’t know how you can manage to live with such a stiff mule.” He laughed.
“We agreed that no one was allowed to be in here that includes you.” It irritated me that I had to tell him the rules that we had made together.
“Oh shush… we aren’t hurting anything.” I listened as they began to detune Tavi’s cello. The line had been crossed.
I hurriedly stepped forward as to stop the shenanigans when goon two decided that I was trespassing, taking his place right in front of me.
“Bass… Stop messing with her stuff. That isn’t cool.” I had to plead through my gritted and annoyed teeth.
“No. You know what isn’t cool and just so unlike you? Her. That Octavia. Do you see what she stands for? She is part of the elite that thinks of us as dirt. I mean, look how picky they are Scratch, I turn this knob a quarter turn and their world has ended. I would think you would support this kind of fun more because you get to see her pitiful reaction to when she touched it the next morning.” He laughed as my heart began to boil.
“How can you even judge her like that when you don’t even know her?”
The question rang truer in my head than anything I had ever said before to him. It was a question that even I was guilty of breaking. It was a question that told me more answers about myself than any drop-guru had ever told me. She had been a kinder friend to me than any of my followers who I tried to pass as friends. I stared at Captain Large who blocked my path to Bass Drop. There was no question that I was going to break up with him this night, but I wanted to break him first.
I picked up I book with my magic just as I stared at Large-a-lot, the gluttonous pig and mental vacant. The other goon I knew was agile, but was fragile. I threw all of the books off of the bookshelf as if it were a shotgun sending the small one across the room just as I socked the larger one in the face with my hoof. The looks on their faces were priceless. Dropping a bookcase on the quicker one helped hold him back as I easily dodged the lumbering attacks from the more difficult to deal with stallion.
I used my magic to toss furniture at him before he lunged at me just as I bucked him with both my back hooves. I felt his jaw dislocate and a dull thud follow confirming that it was only I and Bass left. The adrenaline had me at such a loss, I didn’t even realize that the music had stopped and the guests had been watching the fight through the door that I never closed.
Earth pony versus a unicorn turned out to be a tougher fight than I thought. He managed to crack my back as he smashed my threw me into the coffee table and pinned me against the ground. I broke my glasses and my nose into his face and wailed him into the broken pieces of wood. My glasses were shattered and blood trickled from my face and my sore and out of place back. I yelled at everyone to leave. Everyone including the two goons were scraped up and dragged out as I stood over the hurting and bleeding Bass Drop.
“We are over… and if you ever…” I had to take a breath to steady my rage and to not continue grinding him into the floor, but Octavia had made a more civil, a more mature pony rise out of me. “…Find you in Ponyville again… I will… end you…” I meant every word.
I watched as that sorry excuse for a DJ left and a large single sign re-emerge onto my name though at that moment I had already known where my heart was leading me. A creak from the stairs had me staring at the Octavia, staring at me with worry and shock. I had to admit that my adrenaline had not worn off yet, and I could only chuckle at the mess in the house.
I forget what I said to her. I didn’t really care. I retreated to the bathroom to clean up my wounds and wash the blood out of my fur. It had to have been quite the surprise to her to finally see my bizarre eye color. She reacted like most ponies and just stared. Most ponies did. Most would then ask why my hair was blue when I had crimson red eyes. Octavia never asked. She responded to my blur of words and I heard the same blur of incoherence. My ears were ringing like I just exited a club when I had my head inside of the subwoofer.
I grew up that day. I was the same old party pony and I rocked harder than anyone in all of Equestria, but my home life changed. Octavia evolved into more than just an acquaintance and eventually into more than just a friend though I couldn’t rightfully say what exactly this new level of respect and admiration was. I think the best explanation I could come up with was when our music combined in perfect harmony. Harmony.
My gift for her would have told her everything, but now I see someone that was just like Bass. I thought she was someone different and stuck on him or her like they would realize the love I had for them and it would just work for us. I even tried to get drunk and spill the beans to her, but the “inside joke” had gone to far. She never reacted to me. She always seen it as a joke and always pushed me back to just a harmonic sister. I wanted to tell her that I loved her and mean every word of it, but she wasn’t the pony that defended in that house. She wasn’t the Octavia that had brought a new beat into my life. She was a drop, and a bad one at that. I decided to reserve my confession to when she was cured of her corruption… if she could be cured of it. I hoped that she could. I hoped more than any pony could ever hope.
My lapse into thought had let time pass me by. We had exited the mountains surprisingly. I looked back at them with a longing look. I had preferred memories of Tavi and me to an adventure. I looked back at my self and began to question who I was anymore. I barely even saw the black shadow the folded inside of my shadow. The whisper was even harder to actually pinpoint the source.
“Why didn’t you save her? You could snap her out of it, yet you didn’t. Why blame her when it is solely you to blame. She tried to help everyone as you stood there and selfishly protected your own well-being.”
“I know…”
“Know what?” Lyra asked.
“It is your fault…” It continued.
“I know…” I felt my senses began to dull. I believed it. It made so much sense.
“Whom are you talking to?” Lyra stared at me.
“It’s all my fault…” I continued to speak.
“Who…” She saw my blue tail beginning to turn gray. “Don’t listen to Vinyl! Snap out of it!”
“But you can help her.” The voice added.
“What?” The advancing gray stopped as I listened to the unfamiliar voice.
“There is always a way.” It died to a distant whisper. The sound of the real world began to climb around me as I heard Lyra yelling at me, the rest of the ponies staring at me. The color returned to me quickly as I looked around at the group, the shadow peeling off of my shadow and into the swamps.