Pink Symphony

by DragonLS


CH5: History

Special Thanks To:

Editor: DaMobbs

Proofreader: Meeester

*****

How about now? Anything?

…..

It’s starting to come back? That’s it? Anything stick out like a sore hoof?

…..

You only remember what I’ve read to you? Well then you haven’t remembered anything then! You’re merely remembering what I’ve—you know what, it doesn’t matter. Either way, you’re quite the talented musician. A jazzy solo with your trumpet and then a minute later, this Pinkie pony joined in and turned your solo into a duet. Surprised?

…..

Well, frankly I wasn’t. I mean c’mon. I was surprised that she didn't join in earlier. Even me of all ponies used to be a musician back in the day. The trombone was my weapon of choice persay back in my teens. Oh great, now you’ve gotten me thinking of the past… with the freckles and buckteeth I used to have. It feels so long ago.

…..

Why do I keep bringing up my old memories to you? Well, one can reminiscence and monologue whenever they so please. Are you saying it’s not nice to talk to yourself?

…..

Oh... well it’s clear to me that you’ve never stood in a dark abyss where there’s not a single pony around except yourself. Trust me, it’s rather fun, but I think we’ve rattled on long enough. Shall we continue on with your tale?

*****

Chapter 5: History

Saying the crowd liked it would be like saying that Pinkie Pie only liked cake. They were cheering for you, almost pleading for an encore. You hadn’t felt this kind of thrill since back when the band was still together and playing almost nightly gigs. You thought that since this was a special occasion, you started up again, Pinkie Pie already backing you up.

Having Pinkie Pie in hoof made it exceptionally better. She surprised you at every turn, whether it be with her ability to switch pacing on the fly or the ability to somehow balance a cake on each hoof and still be able to play that good. Not to mention that it was all on a toy piano! You still couldn’t get over that. You shuddered at the thought of what would happen if she got her hooves on a real piano.

As the last notes slowly faded, they were replaced by the hoof-stomping applause from your audience. You could see Pinkie was certainly happy and shivering with excitement. You kinda figured it out when she began bouncing around the room like a pogo stick attached to a rocket.

After the party was over, the majority of the guest filed out into the night. Soon, it was only you, Mrs. Cake, Pinkie, and Twilight. You were currently sitting down, chugging down a bottle of water as you wiped the sweat from your forehead. You hadn’t played that hard since your opening gig.

“Wow, I had no idea you were so talented! I’ve never heard such music move me like that before.” Twilight said ecstatically.

“Hee hee, yeah! You should’ve seen her GO. She was all up on her back hooves, shaking her front hooves all about like a monkey. Ooh, I haven’t seen Twilight do that since that party in Canterlot and—”

Mrs. Cake interrupted Pinkie before she could finish.

“What Pinkie is trying to say is that you were utterly fantastic. You definitely have talent.”

You stood up and bowed, appreciating their praise of your performance and skill. You placed the trumpet back into your case before heaving it up on your back and strapping it on, tugging on the straps to ensure they wouldn’t slip en-route. You once again bowed, thanking them all for an outstanding night and for welcoming you to their town open hoofed.

“I’m glad you enjoyed one of my super fantastic parties, Mr. Top Hat!”

You face-hoofed. Would she ever stop calling you that?

*****

After you said your goodbyes, you set out for home. The sun had already fallen over the horizon, leaving Luna’s moon in its wake. It was chilly and you were already starting to shiver. Your thoughts drifted back towards the party as you trotted through the desolate streets.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it; that feeling of standing on stage, pouring your soul out into your instrument, as the crowd cheered you on, not to mention Pinkie Pie as well. After all that downtime, it was refreshing and nostalgic to play in front of an audience. You could still remember your band mates clearly…

You were one of the three members that made up the band, in which you were the Sax and Trumpet player. Jazz was your specialty, and you liked to think that when compared against other ponies of similar profession, you were slightly better than they were. You didn’t exactly have any rivals to compare yourself to, so it was probably just your ego doing the talking. You dabbled in the Classical genre too, but that’s because your father introduced it to you at an early age. However, the point of the matter was that Jazz was your bread and butter.

One of the others was a pegasus by the name of Flying Beaver, but you usually just call him Beaver. You didn’t know why he was called that, but it probably had to do something with his two large front teeth that continually hung out of his mouth. Perhaps his parents thought he looked like a beaver? You stifled a laugh as memories of all the tomfoolery the band took part in resurfaced in force. He seemed to end up as the scape goat in the end, but you thought he liked being that pony. Regardless, he was a talented Bassist and Pianist, playing those smooth grooves like they were nothing. He was an energetic sort, but something about him always struck you the wrong way. Maybe it had something to do with those teeth after all.

Then there’s the unicorn percussionist, Loud Hoof. He was a very talented percussionist, and you were constantly amazed at his ability to change tempo and beats on the fly. From the booming beats of the bass drum to the sharpness of his snares, if you asked him for a specific beat and tempo, he’d deliver it with his own twist; however, he was always the quiet sort. You and Beaver used to tease him about it, but he always shrugged it off.

You sighed as you thought about the experiences you had had with the band. You wanted to live them again, but alas, you all had to go your separate ways. You didn’t know where they were or what they were doing. You assumed they were off in Manehatten or in Canterlot playing small gigs here and there, but regardless, you don’t think you’ll be seeing them again.

As you snap out of your thoughts, you find yourself in front of your house already. Quickly trotting up to the door, you take out your key, open it, and step inside to escape the chilly night. Your first pit stop was on the nearby sofa. You were completely out of energy after all that, and crashing on the couch was so much more enticing than walking the extra steps to the bed. However, you noticed something... peculiar about the apartment tonight.

You scanned the room, looking for anything that might be out of place. It could have been just your over-tired nerves playing around with you, but you could have sworn that you felt another presence inside your house.

You just shrugged as you scratched your head with a hoof, believing it to be your imagination.

“Hee hee, ooh, scratch a little more to the left.” came a relaxed voice.

You did as your head asked, eliciting a happy groan from—

You froze. Since when did your head talk by itself? And in a girly voice too?

“Aw, why’d you stopppp... It was just getting goooood...” came the same voice again, this time slightly irate.

You breathed out a sigh of relief and sat down. Of course, of ALL the ponies that you had met in your short stay, only one of them would do this of all things. You placed both your hooves on your head, feeling a body sitting and resting atop your head. That’s when a fluffy, pink pony placed her face in front of yours.

“Hiya!”

It was none other than Pinkie Pie, whom was sitting atop of your head this entire time. She hopped right off and sat right next to you, with your hat on her head. How she managed to pull that off without you noticing was beyond you, but there were other pressing matters to attend to, like how she had your hat again. Before you could ask for it back, she placed it back on your head and brushed something off of it.

You pointed a hoof at her, irritatedly asking her what she was doing on your head. She shrugged.

“Good question, Mr. Top Hat! While you were leaving Sugarcube Corner, I started to think what it would be like being a hat. Then I realized you wear a hat everywhere you go, so I figured ‘Hey! I should be his hat! It looks soooo comfortable!’ So I rested on top of your head the entire way. You were pretty zoned out by the way.”

Her logic confused you to no end as you rubbed your temples with a hoof. She got off the couch and looked around the living room and the kitchen next door.

“Ooh, so this is where you live? It’s not very ‘homey’. I mean, where’s all the furniture? You need tables, chairs, and other furniture things.” she said, before gasping very loudly. “It doesn’t even have that ‘Look at me! This is fun!’ look. Do you always live in boring houses? I think you need to have a party here to live it up a little!”

You pointed out to her that you didn’t have much money to afford much except the bare essentials. Pinkie frowned.

“You don’t have a job?”

You nodded.

“But that won’t do! You need to get a job so you can afford all the super-duper things out there. Like candy, ooh, or maybe you could work at a candy store! That would solve both problems! Wait, that’s too much candy…”

You also pointed out the fact she was trespassing to which she broke out in raucous laughter.

“But I’m your hat silly! Hats can’t trespass into other people’s homes!” She then crept up to you and whispered into your ear with a creepy voice. “Or can they?”

It was a bit uncomfortable with her being so close to you, so you backed away as fast as you could and shook your head. It was late and you asked her to politely leave, citing the fact that her party had completely worn you out and that you had a busy day tomorrow.

“Aww, but I wanted to play some more funky jazz music, Mr. Top Hat! Pleeeeeeeeeeease!?”

You were taken aback by this, but you pointed out to her that she followed you due to her… hat fetish, as you put it. Her response was to break out into another fit of giggles.

“Hey, a pony can multitask too ya know. I actually wanted to see where you lived so I can stop by whenever I want and play with you! The music we made was super-duper terrific!”

You told her that it’s because a Piano and a Trumpet go well together when it comes to Jazz, blues, or fast paced duets. You didn’t want to hurt her feelings on the matter, not to mention that you did have a spectacular time playing with her. You discreetly let slip that in the future, you wouldn’t mind playing with her. She bought up her hoof and scratched her chin, apparently deep in thought, before the proverbial light bulb turned on and she bounced around happily.

“Really really? So you mean we can play again together sometime?”

You sighed and just told her directly that she indeed could. She seemed to be a very easy pony to please. She began digging an imaginary hole in the floor with her hoof absentmindedly with a small blush on her face.

“W-well, I do a lot of parties, and I play a lot of instruments. With parties comes music. The gramophone I have—well, had—was only one of the things I have! Did you know I saved the town from a bunch of parasprites from just music alone? Here, let me show you! I’ve got triangles and maracas and—”

She proceeded to pull out a plethora of instruments ranging from the simple triangle to the complicated accordion. You were still stumped though, as she kept pulling out instrument after instrument. Where was she finding the room to put all these things in that mane of hers!? Was there some sort of gravitational anomaly that resided there? Was it a portal into another world? You felt a headache coming on and stopped down that line of thought, remembering what Twilight said earlier.

You also didn’t know what she meant by parasprites, but you swept that under the rug for now. It was clear to you now that she was a jack-of-all-trades pony; something very hard to pull off nowadays. A baker, a musician, a party-goer, and who knows what else. She had quite the future ahead of her, you assumed.

A yawn escaped your lips, your weary body reminding you of just how exhausted it was after the party. Pinkie stopped her rant when she noticed you yawn.

“Am I boring you? Ooh, I don’t want to do that! Quick, cheer up before you fall asleep!” she quipped.

You chuckled tiredly, saying it was just because of the impromptu gig earlier at the party. Pinkie nodded with a small smile.

“Ohhh, okay! Well, I guess I should let you get to your sleepy-weepy dreamland?”

It was a foalish way of putting it, but you didn’t have the energy to correct nor admonish her. You just nodded.

“Alright then! Get to sleep then mister!”

Pinkie shuffled out the front door and before you could close it, you caught one last look of her smiling face. It brought a smile to yours as you wondered why she smiled so much. Was it because she wanted to make ponies around her happy or was it just a perk of her cheery personality?

You didn’t know, but despite that, it’s been a day. You were beginning to grow used to her, but her spontaneous-ness confused you to no end. You had a feeling that that might never change.

After sliding your trumpet case back into your closet, you threw yourself onto the bed, and fell asleep before you even hit the pillow.