Octavia didn’t waste too much energy trying to find Trixie. She knew there were only three places she could be: the motel, her cart down at the zeppelin station, and the dance hall itself. The rest of the town was too gaudy, too oppressive in its over-engineered extravagance. Every single building leaned two-thirds over the edge of the mesa. Outsiders like them were bound to feel ready to fall off any moment.
The motel room took little time to rule out. Not only had the receptionist not seen Trixie pass by, but Octavia knew the rooms’ perpetual gloominess would’ve seemed too oppressive for even Trixie. Octavia’s dash to the zeppelin station and the adjoining storage shed likewise proved fruitless. The cold seeped into Trixie’s cart more than the motel, with most of the items within either covered in frost or soggy from the brief bursts of sunlight that managed to break through the clouds. As strange as it seemed, Octavia knew Trixie wanted to be comfortable in her misery.
So Octavia returned to the dance hall. The doors echoed once again across the empty space, though there seemed to a certain melancholy to the ways the hinges squeaked. Said sadness was reflected clearly in the bar’s mirror, where a sullen unicorn stirred a drink absentmindedly.
Octavia walked forward, steps echoing across the floor once again. She stopped when she reached the stool adjacent to the one Trixie occupied. Neither said a word for a few moments. Only the high-pitched wind whirling outside gave any indication the world would move without their voices.
“I tried to find a place to sulk in,” Trixie finally said. “But everywhere else was too depressing or too cheerful to be in. You need to be miserable in a place both cozy and cold. Only place I could think of was back here.” She took a swig of her drink, a dark ale still bubbling from the tap.
“Trixie…” Octavia began. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
Trixie took another drink. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve known better than to try that trick.”
“It’s not your fault. I overreacted.”
“Maybe. But I still should’ve warned you.”
Octavia hopped onto the stool and leaned onto the bar. She looked at Trixie in the mirror. Trixie just kept staring at the drink.
“I have a friend,” Trixie said. “Starlight, back in Ponyville.”
“Really?” Octavia said. “I’ve seen her around every now and then.”
Trixie nodded. “If she were here, she would’ve set me straight. Told me all the things a good friend is supposed to do. Wouldn’t have complained about just being my assistant.” She paused like she expected Octavia to laugh, but continued when the silence remained. “She was like me once. Maybe she still is. I don’t know.”
“I have a friend in Ponyville too,” Octavia said. “Live with her even. We’re not the same, though. She likes the loud electronic music, I love the soft orchestral melodies.” She stared down at the scratches in the bar’s well-worn oak. “She would have told me to relax, to not let things get to where they were between us. To sit back and wait for something fun to happen, or to just go and make some fun myself.” She brought her hooves to her face. “I wanted so badly to spend Hearth’s Warming with her. Now I’m stuck up here, making you and me and probably everypony else miserable instead of doing something productive.”
Trixie looked up into the mirror. Her eyes no longer showed the half-drunk glaze Octavia expected. “What were you doing? Before you came here, I mean.”
“I was down in Neighami for a show.” Octavia laughed. “Only I would rush back up to snowy Ponyville instead of having a tropical winter. That’s friendship, I guess. Makes you do funny things.”
The silence filled the room once again, before Trixie said: “I was going on an Apology tour.”
“A what?”
“An apology tour. You know, for everything I did.”
“What, did you saw a pony in half for real?”
Trixie stared at her. “You really don’t know?”
Octavia shrugged. “I really don’t.”
“You mean…you don’t hate me for what I’ve done?”
“Of course not. I hated you because you were an obnoxious twit.” Octavia cringed when she saw Trixie shrink back into her cloak. “B-But I was wrong about that! You were just… passionate, shall we say.”
Trixie chuckled. “It’s been a long time since somepony from Ponyville didn’t give me the stink eye. Even after I did the show there with Starlight and the manticore, I get looks. Like they didn’t know Twilight forgave me and I hated everything I did to them with the Amulet.”
“Amulet? Wait. Now I remember. Vinyl said somepony came around with an amulet one time and enslaved the town. That was you?”
“Yep.”
“I mean, we might’ve gotten off on the wrong hoof, but I didn’t really think you’d do that.”
A mirthless chuckle escaped Trixie’s lips. “Nopony ever thinks they can really do what they do with that thing on. But it happens all the same.”
Octavia shuffled in her seat. “Look, Trixie, whatever you did in your past, just realize that… that you’re not a monster.” Octavia stared into the mirror, deep into her own eyes. “I was. I only wanted to escape this town, to go back home to my friend and spend the holiday making myself happy. Even now, when I had an opportunity to make the ponies of Hilltop a little bit happier, I threw it away for a little bit of attention.” Octavia cast her head downward to the bar. Her reflection wavered both from the varnish and her own growing tears.
“We were both selfish,” Octavia sputtered. “I just hid it a little better.”
A hoof slid over to Octavia’s and pressed down. Octavia grasped the hoof and massaged it with a circular motion. The wind continued making itself known while quiet tears shed on both sides.
“Trixie, this is a tough time for me too. I’m stuck in a town I didn’t want to be in, separated from my best friend, all during a holiday I love. This year, Hearth’s Warming is just… I don’t know. Just plain terrible. But that doesn’t mean I need to be.”
“Or we need to be,” Trixie said.
“Right. Right.” Octavia gazed directly up into Trixie’s eyes. “Can we try again? With the Spectacular?”
Trixie gave a ghost of a smile. “Trix- I mean, I would like that.” She glanced up at the clock sitting just over the bar and her face fell. “But we only have two hours! How could we possibly cobble together an act like that?”
A sly grin crossed Octavia’s face. “Well, let’s just say improvisation plus inspiration are a musician’s best friends. Are they a magician’s?”
Trixie paused, then smiled back. “They most certainly are.”