A light, funky smooth jazz tune subtly strummed through the coffee house’s speakers as Vinyl took in the atmosphere of Alotta Latte. Despite being only a block away from the ESPA, she’d never visited the area’s most popular coffeehouse. Aside from a small stage for live performances, there wasn’t a lot setting Alotta apart from other similar shops. It smelled like coffee, overused chalkboards in an attempt to seem more grounded, and was coated in a wide array of colors ranging from brown to darker brown. The only stunning difference setting it apart was the price they charged. Vinyl didn’t find overpaying for theater district coffee appealing, especially when it was more important to be seen drinking the brand rather than enjoying it. She’d never come here by herself.
“At what point does a latte become a milkshake?” Octavia asked Vinyl while overanalyzing her large drink.
The DJ shrugged and went back into indulging herself in her own Strawberry Surprise Latte. Octavia had stopped her archiving report with Steeplechase before it started and whisked her away for an impromptu mentorship meeting. Judging by Octavia’s befuddlement at the menu, she wasn’t familiar with Alotta Latte either. Usually Vinyl would be more hesitant to waste time during audio lab hours, but after what happened this morning, she wasn’t in any hurry to get back to the school.
Octavia stirred her straw, shuffling around chunks of strawberry suspended in thick, fluffy cream. “This is supposedly a latte. That’s what it says on the menu, correct?”
Vinyl nodded along silently, refusing to cease the straw’s flow of sweetness.
“But it’s blindingly red and white. Coffee’s famously brown.” Octavia took another sip, moving the sample around her mouth with practiced, wine-tasting precision. “I think I’m sensing the slightest note of coffee? Maybe mocha? Whatever it is, it’s being absolutely destroyed under pounds of sugar and syrup.”
“You’re the one who ordered two of them so I couldn’t pay,” Vinyl noted before diving back into the safety of the fruity flavor.
“I know, but I think they somehow managed to distill more than half my daily calories into a single cup,” Octavia fretted as she swirled her straw through the creamy mass. “I’m almost certain I’ve had healthier cheesecakes in the past.”
“Well, I think it’s good,” Vinyl said in between sips.
“It’s criminally good!” Octavia’s purple eyes sparkled with rare delight and she drew another generous serving through her straw. “I’m just glad Steeple is such a fruit purist. He’d be more blob than pony if he got hooked on something like this.”
Feeling on the precipice of brain freeze, Vinyl took a break from the strawberry escape to get their meeting officially started. “So, something up with the Showcases?”
“No. We’re pretty much set for that next week, thank Celestia.” The other mare breathed a sigh of relief. “I finalized the schedule yesterday with Woodwind and we’re just waiting for the playbills to be printed. Barring any last minute hiccups, it’s simply a matter of managing public ticket sales now.”
“Okay. Then what did you need from me?”
Octavia frowned. “Do I need a reason to want to share a drink with you?”
Vinyl didn’t like the cut of the question. Unlike herself, Octavia was a rigidly structured mare, rarely doing anything on a whim. “You usually have one for these mentorship meetings.”
“Then consider this me trying something new. I’ve been letting myself get so absorbed in my work that I haven’t been leaving any time for you,” Octavia admitted while rubbing the sides of her frosty treat in shame.
“That’s okay. I mean, we’re both pretty busy these days, right?”
“Maybe that’s good enough for you, but It’s not okay with me,” the earth pony complained as she tapped the table with conviction. “I’m supposed to be your mentor, but somehow Steeple manages to meet you more than I do these days.”
“I’m archiving records. That’s his department.”
“Fair point, but please allow me a little jealousy to steal you away for some quality time between the two of us.” Octavia tilted her nose up from practiced haughty indignation. The proper mare was one of the few ponies Vinyl accepted such fashionable Canterlotian arrogance from. Octavia had the bona fides to back it up with both musical expertise and physical strength. That cello of hers wasn’t carried lightly in any sense of the word. “That being said, I do hope I’m not interrupting anything important that you need to rush back to the school for.”
Vinyl began playing with her straw, watching the remaining half of her latte swirl around in a hypnotic circle. “Not really. We’re analyzing some new samples from the Crystal Empire for Professor Arpeggio. You know, checking their harmonics. We hit a snag this morning, so I’ve got some time.”
Octavia smirked knowingly. “I see that my father has you doing his grunt work as usual. Is it musical or physical?”
“Both, actually. Cacophony doesn’t draw hard distinctions between the two. Professor Arpeggio’s trying to find discrepancies between Imperial crystals and Canterhorn crystals found under the castle. They’re similar in structure and formed through intense magical forces, and he thinks he might be able to compare their ages. He’s trying to determine the nature of Sombra’s banishing of the empire, since the leading theories are a sort of timeskip teleportation or mass magical stasis.”
Octavia waved a mixing stick like a baton, as if silencing an orchestral performance. “Pardon, but I will be cutting you off right there. Anything deeper will reduce me to smiling and nodding along to something I barely understand.”
“Sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for, Vinyl. You’d think I’d learn not to ask questions like that after being raised by a CSGU professor.” Octavia rolled her eyes with a smirk at her own folly. “At the risk of making more of a fool of myself, how are things going at the mansion?”
“You mean the archiving?”
“You can spare those details. I already know too much about it through Steeple. I’m pretty sure I’ll hear all about what you gave him earlier tonight over dinner. Probably doubly so since he wasn’t able to ‘geek out’ with you.” There was a subtle shiver in Octavia’s shoulders at the thought. “No, I want to know about how you are doing, Vinyl.”
“I’m okay. Just archiving and preparing for the Showcases.”
“And?” Octavia pursed her lips and rolled her fetlock, motioning for Vinyl to continue.
“That’s it.”
The cellist dropped her forelegs to the table and gave Vinyl a flat look. “You’re joking, right? There simply must be something else.”
“What else do you want me to say?”
“I’m not trying to gossip, but do you really expect me to believe that? You, one of the most popular DJs on Dressage Drive, are living with Fancy Pants, one of the most illustrious nobles of our time. You can’t seriously be telling me that absolutely nothing has happened at all since you moved in.”
Vinyl dipped herself into the strawberries again, leaving Octavia in the lurch.
The cellist sighed and put a hoof to her forehead. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to bring this up myself, but you leave me little choice.” Octavia’s gaze sharpened as she leaned over the table towards her mentee. “Vinyl, why do you think I interrupted your meeting with Steeple?”
“To catch up?” Vinyl hoped against hope despite the exasperation scrawled across the other mare.
“If it was something so simple, I would’ve waited.” Octavia tapped her hoof just above her eyes. “You were wearing your sunglasses in the library.”
“So?”
“I repeat, in the library. Indoors. Like you are now in a dimly lit coffee shop.” Octavia nodded slowly as she tried to goad Vinyl into saying the obvious.
“I can still see fine,” Vinyl argued half-heartedly. “I just forgot I had them on.”
Octavia hummed to herself and raised a hoof with an idea. “Very well. How about this: I’ll tell you how I know you’re lying if you take off your sunglasses.”
“Do I have to?” Vinyl asked. Seeing Octavia raise her brow at the foalish question, she sighed and threw her shades down on the table.
Octavia grabbed at her heart upon seeing Vinyl’s unshaded face. Her eyes had been stinging enough since the morning to know they were red and puffy. She hadn’t cried, but she felt on the verge every time she thought about Fleur and Fancy. She hated how weak she felt.
“I don’t need the pity party,” Vinyl spat under her breath.
Octavia shook her head. “Please, Vinyl, I’m just—”
“Worried, right?” she finished for Octavia bitterly.
The mare backed up and cleared her throat at the sudden shift. “I was going to use the word ‘concerned,’ but the difference is negligible,” Octavia clarified, to Vinyl’s annoyance. “Steeple was either being polite or too distracted by his toys to notice, but I couldn’t stand watching you go through the motions like nothing was wrong.”
“You and everypony else. Can’t seem to get anypony to stop.” Her mentor was maintaining a good front, but Vinyl could see the cracks of worry forming in her proud stance. “Just spill it already so I can stop freaking everypony out.”
“For one, you agreed to take your sunglasses off,” Octavia noted.
“Octavia!”
“I admit that was in poor taste,” she apologized. “For a less cheeky answer, it’s still rather simple. If the topic is something you might need to stretch the truth about, you seem to be wanting to avoid talking about it altogether. The Vinyl I know speaks fully and candidly.”
The unicorn bit her lip, mentally cursing herself. “I can’t win, can I?”
“If it helps, I think it’s actually sort of adorable that I know foals that are better liars than you,” Octavia politely teased, hoping to brighten the mood.
Vinyl slammed her head on the table, groaning from both the frustration and the impact. “I just want to stop making everypony miserable!”
“You’re not making me miserable,” Octavia assured softly. “We all know you’ve been going through a lot. I’d rather know if I can help than think you’re suffering in silence.”
Vinyl pulled her head up, trying desperately not to give into the tightness in her chest. “But that’s just it! It doesn't matter if I shut up or not, everypony just keeps jumping to their own conclusions! What am I supposed to do?”
“Just tell somepony, Vinyl. If you don’t want my help, then at least Fleur can—”
“B-but that’s what I did! I thought I was doing the right thing, but I wasn't! I was wrong and now she’s mad at Fancy because of what I did and it caused an episode and it’s all my fault!”
Octavia grabbed ahold of one of Vinyl’s hooves and sandwiched it between her own. “Slow down, Vinyl! Deep, controlled breaths.” Octavia tapped her hoof on rhythmically, directing the pace of her mentee’s breathing to slow it back down. “Better?”
A few more long breaths later, Vinyl nodded.
“Okay. Now let’s start from the beginning. What was that you were saying about Fleur and Fancy Pants?”
“Well, we bumped into Fancy Pants on the way to the school, and… it wasn’t what you’d call cordial.”
“And Safe!” Fleur sing-songed as she flicked on the lights of the lab and grabbed the startup clipboard. “C’mon Vy, we gotta get going before the professor realizes we were late.”
Vinyl followed her friend into the studio, letting the larger mare start the day like nothing had happened. Even though the lab was completely dark, meaning they were in the clear with the professor, it was little consolation after what she saw her friend do.
“What the hay was that?” Vinyl demanded.
Fleur slumped her shoulders and sighed. “Do we have to go through this song and dance? I know how it’s going to play out, so let’s just save ourselves the trouble and drop it.” Fleur glanced over her shoulder at Vinyl’s simmering temper demanding an explanation. She clicked her tongue as she flicked on the soundboards. “Relax, Vy. I was just messing with him. No biggie.”
“Horseapples! You treated him like trash!”
“Okay, so maybe I got a little testy trying to talk sense into a certified idiot. Can you blame me?” she scoffed with a dismissive hoof wave before refocusing on the morning’s systems check.
Vinyl frowned and strode over to her friend. “So, is Fancy not welcome on the Friend Ship anymore?”
“Depends if he keeps associating blindly with those stupid nobles,” the taller unicorn replied coolly while turning away and focusing on her tasks. “Garbage in, garbage out. And no, I’m not apologizing for being right.”
Vinyl couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you serious? You’re the one who told me that Fancy stress casts in the first place!”
The claim stopped Fleur’s work in its tracks and the mare turned to Vinyl in utter confusion. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“You knew full well that he struggles to channel spells under pressure, but even I didn’t think you’d go so far to purposely trigger him to have an episode!”
“Seriously, what are you talking about?” Fleur set the clipboard down to give Vinyl her undivided attention. “He’s just bad with magic. A regular clumsicorn.”
“That’s because he stress casts! The whole monocle polishing thing, remember?”
Fleur shook her head and sighed. “Vy, you’re reading way too much into that. It’s a simple delaying tactic. He does it all the time.”
“Because that’s his favored object! Haven’t you ever noticed him fixating on his monocle when he’s frustrated or anxious? At the worst times, his aura is almost nonexistent, but he still manages to barely keep it in his magic. When you were cornering him, he started casting levitation on nothing trying to alleviate the stress. He wasn’t even aware that he was channeling at all!”
“That’s not—no. You’re not making any sense!” Fleur accused, poking a hoof into her friend’s chest. “Fancy’s got everything that matters to him: wealth, power, prestige, fill-in-the-blank with whatever other commodities the nobles are chasing and then some. What could he possibly be stressed about?”
“Well…” Vinyl rubbed her leg as her mind jumped to the obvious culprit.
“No!” Fleur screamed over her friend’s unspoken train of thought. “For the last time, it’s not your fault! It was never your fault! Get that stupid idea out of your head right now!”
“Then what is it? You were just fine with him until I told you what happened over the holidays. Now all of a sudden, you’re treating him like dirt out of nowhere?”
“Well, it’s not that, okay? Besides, he should’ve—It’s his—” Their eyes met once more, briefly. Fleur recoiled and turned away from Vinyl’s gaze. “It’s not that simple!”
“But isn’t it? I was the one lying to you about it all in the first place.”
“So? If you were too scared, Fancy should’ve told me!” Fleur turned away, pulling at her hair. “I should’ve been there for you! I could’ve helped you!”
“But that’s exactly what I didn’t want!” Vinyl countered. She trotted around to confront her friend trying to ignore her. “I don’t want ponies to worry about every little thing about me! Is that so wrong?”
“Yes!” Fleur urged breathlessly in utter disbelief. “If you need help, obviously yes! How stupid can you get?”
“So I was right. It is all my fault.”
“Stop. Twisting. My. Words!” Fleur grinded her teeth and seethed trying to keep a grip on her anger. “I said it was fine! Fancy can take it!”
Vinyl frowned and returned with an icy glare. “What, and I can’t?”
Fleur grabbed at her head, reaching her wit’s end. Shaking it to refocus her thoughts, the mare doubled down and stomped her hooves in frustration. “Okay. He got his feelings hurt a little bit. So what? The guy’s got enough bits to blow on anything he wants and then some. He’ll get over it. Better him than you.”
“But that’s not fair to him!” Vinyl countered.
“I don't care anymore!” Fleur yelled, her eyes slowly cracking under the pressure of her blazing anger. “I don’t care at all! In fact, why do you care so much anyway?”
“What?” The smaller unicorn shrank back, confused by the unexpected question.
“You heard me! Why the hay do you care about him? You’re just there to archive old records until everypony forgets the mess I made, right? You said it yourself that you’re scared of him! So, why do you give a flying feather about him at all?” Fleur demanded as she stood rigid, towering over the smaller unicorn. “Why do you care about Fancy Pants?”
“Because…” Vinyl trailed off. The more she thought about it, the more she didn’t know the answer. She should obviously care on some level. Even if it wasn’t codified in a written contract, Fancy Pants was her de facto employer. Every day she woke up in his opulent guest room, she came face-to-face with the power he held over her. With nowhere to go, it was in a word: terrifying.
But through all of it, Fancy had never used that power against her when he could, not even once. He said she always had a choice, he always gave her space, and despite having virtually limitless wealth and influence, he wanted to earn her respect. Fancy said Vinyl was worth it.
“Well? Spit it out!” Even when she had confided in her about her situation with Fancy, Fleur had never gotten this angry. Vinyl just wanted something, anything that would calm her down.
“Because he’s your brother.”
Instead of finding relief, Fleur’s breath hitched from Vinyl’s words, crushing the air out of her lungs. All the anger and fire fizzled into nothing as she staggered from the spear piercing her heart. Her rear leg caught the chair in front of the soundboard and she stumbled backwards, catching herself on the console behind her before her complete collapse.
“Fleur, are you—” The tears streaming from her friend’s shattered eyes silenced Vinyl’s thoughtless question immediately.
“Why won’t Fancy tell me that?”
Fleur’s desperate question echoed through the quiet room. With no possible answer, the broken mare stumbled towards the exit. She galloped out of the department as best she could on her uneven gait, hitting the door on the way out, and leaving Vinyl alone with a cold stone sinking into her heart.
She messed up. Vinyl Scratch always messed up.
Vinyl drank deeply, desperately pulling every last drop of her milkshake or latte, whatever it was, anything to numb her racing thoughts. The brain freeze was better than the memories of Fleur and Fancy burning in her head. She was breaking them apart. Her weakness was ruining their relationship, and it was all her fault.
She could hear Octavia on the periphery, begging for her attention, but the DJ ignored the distant noise. Greedily, she chugged and chugged, hoping there was an infinite amount of cream to drown herself in. She was sick of constantly being overwhelmed. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want sympathy, pity, or anything anymore. She just wanted everything to stop!
A cold chill splashed Vinyl’s face, interrupting her spell and causing her to drop her latte. What little was left splattered on the table with a puddle of water. She blinked, feeling her wet fur and looked up from the mess, to see Octavia absolutely livid after splashing her with a pilfered glass of water.
“Stop that right now!” Octavia chastised, her hot glare gripping Vinyl’s heart with an oddly nostalgic fear.
“But I—”
“This kind of behavior will not help anypony, least of all you!” the cellist reprimanded. Vinyl opened her mouth to speak, but Octavia flourished her hoof to quiet the orchestra of emotions, informing the DJ that she wasn’t allowed to make a peep.
For the first time in years, Vinyl felt the pressure of being in trouble. Not from a sense of danger or fear for one’s life, but the sinking disappointment while being addressed by a parent. It bore a forgotten nostalgia that was both terrifying and strangely comforting.
“Now. You want the truth? You’re being way too hard on yourself. You can’t simply blame yourself for everything!” Octavia slammed a hoof on the table, the tidy mare completely ignoring the mess from the watery strawberry remains. “The absolute nerve of you thinking all the woes of the world can somehow be your fault.”
“What about—” another silencing hoof wave cut her off succinctly.
Octavia took a deep breath before continuing to be the adult in the room. “You got caught lying to ponies that care about your well-being. That was wrong. But, you did the right thing and admitted it rather than continuing to try hiding it. Anything beyond that is solely between Fleur and Fancy. Do you understand?”
Vinyl nodded quickly, biting her lip seeing that they were drawing shocked looks from the other patrons. Octavia straightened up, adjusted her bowtie, and glared out the corner of her eye. The disquieting contempt demanded to know exactly what everypony else was looking at. With no adequate answers of their own, they all returned to minding their own business.
“Good.” Octavia cleared her throat. “Now, you’re only allowed to speak if you can do so without the breakdown. Got it?”
After processing she had been asked a question, Vinyl nodded vigorously under the pressure Octavia’s will exerted.
Her mentor exhaled, releasing the tension she was wearing. “So, please tell me about this stress casting theory of yours,” she asked as she calmly fixed her hair.
“It’s not a theory; I saw him doing it,” Vinyl urged with absolute certainty.
“Fine, so he was stress casting. You said it was the monocle, right?”
“When idle spellcasting progresses into a compulsive habit, it usually surfaces as a form of stress relief. There’s comfort in burning off excess magic, like scratching an itch or preening a wing. The sufferer often inadvertently casts basic spells like illumination or levitation. In the case of manipulation magic, it gradually selects a focus to channel into.” Vinyl sighed as she fiddled with the straw in her hooves. “Mine was a—”
I just want what’s best for you.
Vinyl cleared her throat. “A locket.”
“You’re also a stress caster?” Octavia asked.
Don’t forget…
“I was. It’s why I’m so sure. Takes one to know one.” Vinyl smiled wistfully while ignoring the familiar, rusty chains wrapping around her neck once again.
“I’m surprised you haven’t fallen back into the habit, considering the circumstances.”
…Mommy loves you.
“Y-yeah, don’t worry. I’m fine,” she assured herself.
“Wide, down-right,” Octavia stated.
“Huh?”
“Just now, your eyes widened when I asked, and you looked down and to the right when you answered,” she clarified, pointing her hoof in the direction Vinyl looked.
“Okay. So?”
“Left, straight, right, left.” Octavia dictated, along with pointing a hoof in the corresponding directions. “Okay, now you’re just staring daggers at me.”
“What are you doing?”
“I said I’d tell you how I know you’re lying. I’m just holding up my end of the deal.”
“But you already did?” Vinyl asked.
“No, I just told you how I deduced something was wrong. Watching your eyes is how I know you’re lying. Erratic movements, dilation, lack of eye contact; you’re very expressive with them, you know.”
“Okay. So, how am I supposed to fix that?”
“There’s nothing to fix. Last I checked, honesty was a virtue. Just make sure you wear your sunglasses during poker games and surprise parties to give yourself a fighting chance.” Octavia smirked at Vinyl’s grousing. “Now, you were just failing to lie to me about stress casting?”
Vinyl grumbled and clopped her hooves together being caught dead to rights. “It wasn’t exactly stress casting, but I did have a magical surge.”
“Oh my,” Octavia gasped, covering her mouth in shock. “Those can be quite serious from what father has said about them. Father told me about one of the students briefly turning their parents into house plants during a rather harrowing one years ago.”
“Luckily, I’m not so magically gifted. It boiled down to a burst of pure mana. I did end up hurting somepony though.”
“Are they okay?”
“I sprained Fluff’s—err Fluffer Duster’s wing.” Vinyl’s heart clenched with guilt at the memory of launching her after all the hurtful things she said to the younger pegasus. After all of that, it still floored her to think Fluffs had still given her a second chance.
“Seeing as how you’re on a nickname basis, I will assume it worked out in the end. You did apologize though, right?” Vinyl nodded, unable to look Octavia in the face. “Good. That’s about all you can do.”
“Forget about me, we were talking about Fancy! He’s the one compulsively polishing that stupid lens of his all the time! Seriously, am I the only pony who has ever noticed it?”
“No, but I didn’t think anything of it,” Octavia dismissed with a shrug.
“That’s because he doesn’t realize he’s doing it half the time and Fleur’s angry at him and it caused him to have an episode right in front of me—”
Octavia tapped the mixing stick loudly, calling Vinyl’s attention. “What did I say about breakdowns again?” Vinyl shrunk under her mentor’s glare and nodded. “Listen, if it’s true, then he’s been doing that for years. It's simply impossible for you to be the root cause of it now.”
“But aren’t I making it worse?” Vinyl hung her head in guilt. “I try to lie because the truth hurts too much, and I can’t even do that! If it keeps going like this, I’m going to lose the only friend I have!”
Octavia flinched, pushing herself straighter in her seat. “The only friend?”
“Well, I guess Fluffer Duster is trying, but I’m probably going to ruin that one somehow too.”
“But… but aren’t we friends?”
“What?” Vinyl murmured in reply.
“I know I’m your mentor because I've been in the ESPA for most of my life, but I’m only three years older than you. Under different circumstances, I’d like to think we would’ve been friends for a long time.” Octavia put her hoof to her chest and her ears dipped. “Steeple and I, we both think the world of you.”
“But why? I haven’t done anything to earn it.”
Octavia searched Vinyl’s eyes, slowly growing more concerned at the unicorn’s gaze pleading for answers. “You really believe that.”
She moved to take a seat next to Vinyl in the booth, putting a hoof on the DJ’s shoulder. “Vinyl, the better question is why wouldn’t I want to be your friend? You’re honest to a fault, dependable, and far more brilliant than you give yourself credit for. Even if we strip it down to our talents, I might enjoy more traditional music, but your style is what I’d call the ‘in’ thing right now. After listening to that wonderful sample submission for your Showcase slot, frankly, I’m shocked you aren’t already selling out tours all across Equestria. I’d be lucky if you wanted somepony as boring as me to be your friend.
“Maybe you haven’t done something you feel is worthwhile, but friendship isn’t some black and white transaction. It’s true that all relationships have some level of give and take, that’s a given. You don’t need to earn it though. You’re a great pony that anypony should be glad to have in their lives.” Octavia smiled softly as she leaned over, trying to catch Vinyl’s face. “Even if you don’t believe me, I know it’s true. I’ll believe it for the both of us until you can, okay?”
Vinyl could remember believing in something like that. Just a few months ago, DJ Pon-3 had been a great pony. Her actions always spoke for themselves with an unshakable, solitary confidence. There was no need to listen to fools trying to bring her down. For all of the nobles’ bluster, they still hired her every time because she brought the bass that drove everypony wild. She didn’t need their approval, her value was self-evident. After all, DJ Pon-3 never answered to anypony, because who in their right mind could question her?
Then reality reared its ugly head to prove just how fragile and empty that bravado was. The constant threat of failure shackled her to a cliff crumbling on the edge of oblivion. But Fleur, Éclair, Octavia, Steeplechase, Fluffs, Dapper Dandy, and even Fancy Pants, despite everything, had all rallied around her. On her own, she would’ve disappeared into the depths of an uncaring world a long time ago, but they held on to keep her from falling. They cared.
DJ Pon-3 couldn’t do it alone anymore, but maybe her independence had been a story that Vinyl had fooled herself into believing. Even somepony as amazing as the Sensational Sauna Summers had ponies helping her all along the way; not with giving a hoof-out, but in offering a hoof up. That was okay, right?
“I’ll try,” Vinyl promised. She might not have believed in herself anymore, but she wanted to believe in the ones that did.
Seeing the truth in Vinyl’s eyes, Octavia’s smile spread across her face. “Wonderful. Now, if we’re going to continue this meeting, then I think we need another round of lattes to enjoy this time. It’s on the ESPA’s bits, so let’s call it reimbursement for missed mentorship meetings. If we’re going to catch up, we'll need another round.”
“Fancy Pants? Sledding?” Octavia couldn’t help but laugh at the idea.
“He’s surprisingly good at it. According to him, sand dune sledding is harder. Not as soft and you can burn yourself pretty bad when it gets really hot.”
“I’d be surprised he’d even bother with it, but he always has a reason for his more wild decisions.”
“Apparently, it’s a rite of passage in Saddle Arabia. ‘Proactive cultural exchange’ is how I think he put it. Earned him a few points with the sultan despite getting last place.”
“The hazards of that stallion’s hooves-on approach to diplomacy.” Octavia chuckled to herself and took a sip of her water. After cleaning the table, she’d gracefully downgraded to her own glass after checking the frightening caloric content of the Strawberry Surprise Latte. She swore to stick to salads for the next week to “detox” in her words. Meanwhile, Vinyl was content with accepting the comforting sweetness of her milkshake by another name.
“Did you know him back then?” Vinyl asked between sips.
“Fancy? I knew of him, but then again who didn’t? Never met him until I started working with the ESPA. In fact, I wouldn’t be where I am today if he hadn’t recommended me to Princess Celestia for the Gala. While that night wasn’t the best working experience, it did lead to something incredibly special.” Octavia smiled warmly as she ran her hoof along the silver wedding band around her fetlock.
“On that note, Steeplechase knew him before I did, at least professionally. I’m not sure how his constant hounding about the collection led to a friendship, but stallions will be stallions.” Octavia curled an eyebrow at Vinyl as she perked up from her latte. “And no, before you ask, I can almost guarantee he hasn’t noticed a single thing about his potential stress casting.”
And as quickly as it came, Vinyl slumped back down over her drink. She might know the mechanics to everypony’s mind reading, but it wasn’t helping.
“Listen, Vinyl. I think you’re right to be worried about Fancy if he really is stress casting. You could do some real good for him.”
“But I might be making it worse,” Vinyl argued.
“Or you could help make it better. You don’t have enough information to be certain. Assuming you’re right, the fact that you’ve identified the problem already proves that you’re helping, unequivocally. Perhaps this ‘Friend Ship’ of Fleur’s can help the both of them too. You might be the one that needs to hold it all together.”
Vinyl balked at the absurdity of the notion. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Well, you said your stress casting was in the past. What helped you stop?”
“The source of my stress was… removed.”
“Up-left.”
“Don’t,” Vinyl warned.
“Sorry.” Octavia raised her hooves and backed off the line of questioning. “Just don’t assume it’s you that must be removed from the equation.”
“I wasn’t gonna—it’s not like that! I can’t do the second thing.”
That caught the other mare’s attention. “Really? What was the second?”
“Fleur,” Vinyl admitted. “She wouldn’t leave me alone back then…”
For years, Fleur had always been the one to bail Vinyl out. For all of the mare’s zany antics, she was the steady rock Vinyl needed in life. And now, the foundations were crumbling under pressure. The thought sent chills through her spine, realizing just how dependent she had become on her friend.
Fleur had been the one to rightly warn Vinyl about the experimental flings she had after getting popular at Cantrips. Those multiple, vapid physical flings that were as empty as the void she had been unknowingly trying to fill. Before that, she had urged Vinyl to finally try that music mixing thing she enjoyed, which ultimately led to her initial debut on Dressage Drive. And to start it all off, ‘Schlurr Delish’ was the strangely confident dweeb who invited her to play some complicated, make-believe game out of nowhere.
“It’sh better than looking shad in the corner, right?” the young Schlurr explained with copious braceface spittle.
Vinyl had been taking so much for many years without even realizing, and how had she returned the favor?
“I haven’t seen you smile in weeks! Not really. You’re my best friend, Vy. You’re like a sister to me. You can tell me anything, you know that, right? Please! I… I don’t want to lose you too!” Fleur begged with tears streaming down her face.
“She never left me alone…”
“So, why can’t you?” Octavia asked, pulling Vinyl back to the present.
“What do you mean? There’s only one Fleur.”
“And thank the stars for that. I’m not sure Equestria could handle two.” The older mare laughed behind a hoof. “But I digress. What I meant was why can’t you, Vinyl? Let’s say for the sake of argument you are the problem. Why not turn yourself into the solution? Open up about yourself. Let him know he isn’t alone.”
“I don’t think I can do that.”
“Obviously not with that defeatist attitude,” Octavia chided with an admonishing hoof waggle. “But I know you can, Captain.” The gray mare straightened up and saluted.
“Fleur is the Captain of the Friend Ship. I’m the first-mate, or a sea turtle. I can’t remember.”
“Fair enough. Although, if you do decide to attempt a mutiny, you have my full support. I’m sure I can twist Steeple into it as well once he realizes he’s onboard. I believe in you, Vinyl.”
A spark of warmth flickered in Vinyl’s heart. It was a flicker Fleur always managed to light through her encouragement. Maybe it was her turn to help fan the flames and finally be there for her friend. She wasn’t sure if she could do it, but somepony believed she could. It was worth a try.
“Thanks, Octavia.”
“Now, now. That won’t do at all,” Octavia chided once more before placing her hoof over her heart. “My friends call me Tavi.”
Vinyl smiled at the newfound warmth, but stopped as she considered the nickname. To her knowledge, Steeplechase was the only one that called her that, and it didn’t seem right.
“What about ‘Octy?’” Vinyl offered as a cursed image flashed through her mind. “Y’know, if I’m a turtle, you could be an—”
“If you dare finish that analogy, I will be forced to see if griffons have a recipe for turtle soup,” the sour Octy-pus stated with a lethal finality usually reserved for a certain insufferable bat-brain.
“Got it,” Vinyl sputtered all-too quickly.
Octavia’s steely ire bore down on Vinyl until she couldn’t hold the facade anymore. A small smile crept across her face as she began giggling. Vinyl joined Tavi as they both cracked, the two friends sharing a laugh as sweet as the lattes.