Vinyl, as she always said, was no stranger to waking up in strange places.
This time, however, she immediately pulled the pillow over her head as hazy images of Silver Tongue scrambled her mind. Oh no. Oh no. Okay, don’t panic. Take stock first, then panic.
She glanced around the room. It was minimalist, but classy-ish. Generic paintings mixed with photos of the city were plastered everywhere. Her glasses were folded neat-like next to a glass of water. She tossed back the glass, which was still chilled. She didn’t actually feel that hung over right now, but that might be the panic and adrenaline.
No further clues in here. She snuck on tiphooves over to the door, and peeked through the keyhole. A small kitchen of nice stone and shiny metal, empty. Okay, moment of truth. She swung the door open.
Nothing. No smug Silver, no snarky remarks. She stuck her head around the corner. No sign of anypony. Just a couple bags, one marked with a purple cleff-Hang on!
Octavia?
Vinyl’s surviving brain cells turned on their heads. The horrible sinking dread of potentially spending the night with Silver suddenly turned to champagne bubbles of hype. She’d spent the night in Octy’s room! A smirk quickly conquered her face. Everything had apparently gone so much better than she expected.
Now that she was no longer freaking the buck out, she noticed a tantalizing scent in the air. Her eyes still weren’t picking up color very well, but her nose could sub in. A whiff of something reddish and spicy. She followed it to a faintly-steaming bowl of soup in the kitchen, which was next to her phone. Her phone had been plugged in, thankfully, and a text message from an unknown number flashed up as she lifted it.
Scratch. This is Octavia. The text began. Vinyl chuckled at that. Octy would write a text like a longform novel. She seized a pair of spoons as she read. I am sure you are feeling appropriately miserable by now, or at least I hope you are. I have left you soup, which is an old earth pony remedy, along with more modern medicine. Both had best be in your stomach when I get back. Vinyl chuckled to herself. Was Octy the mom type marefriend? Apparently so.
I spoke to Stellar this morning as well, The text continued. She claimed she would have someone deliver your things back to your room. As such, I have also left you taxi fare. Consider it repayment for the waffle. Please take care of yourself. Eat the soup. Drink water. Never make me come fetch you at 2 am ever EVER again. Yours truly, Octavia. P.S. Nothing happened between us last night, so wipe that smirk off your face, Nonsense Pony.
Vinyl barked out a patchwork laugh. Oh. So Octy had just come to rescue her. Faint memories started to surface, of a steady hoof at her side, hot chocolate and worrying about being too cuddly. That was probably one of the nicest things anypony had ever done for her. So why did she feel kind of disappointed?
She tried to shake that thought from her mind, which was a horrible error. The room spun, and all her aching muscles screamed in protest as she wobbled. Oof. She was getting too old for this. She finished the soup and took the medicine as requested, which did help a little bit. She resisted the great urge to look through Octy’s things. She should probably get going. . . but she also kinda wanted to wait for Octy to come back. At least to tease her a bit more.
Eventually, boredom made the choice for her. She shot over her own text, saying thanks and lambasting Octy for her dirty mind in even thinking that Vinyl would think that something would have happened. Hey, there’s another upside, she finally had Octy’s number!
She tucked the mostly empty soup bowl in the sink. Her color vision was starting to come back, which showed her that the soup was actually green. Whoops. Probably for the best she hadn’t been able to tell, or she’d have a hard time eating it. Suppressing the urge to snoop through the bags one more time, she slipped out the door, which closed itself forever behind her.
Naturally, she had forgotten the bits, as she realized half a second after the door locked. No big deal though, she could walk. Octy had very kindly charged up her headphones along with her phone, so she spun through her tracks to find something chill, and set off from the hotel.
The chillness lasted about twenty steps from the front doors before she spotted a local newsstand. Her own face stared back at her, giving her that ugly stomach-dropping-through-the-ground feeling. Gossip magazines. Great. She picked one up. The picture of her was not flattering. She was laughing, clearly wasted, Silver Tongue’s hoof around her. She flipped to the article, which was about her and Silver, but full of way too many buzzwords to actually say very much. Well, mom did ask for her to be seen with him, this was pretty seen. Maybe a little too seen.
She tossed the rag back on the shelf, ignoring the inaudible hollering of the newspony. She checked her account balance. Sure enough, mum's bits were sitting there. All told, that was not bad for an evening. She got paid and avoided horrible makeouts with Silver. Win-win?
There was also a text from Stellar. Vinyl braced for a complaint, but no. Apparently last night’s show was wildly popular. The vid had a ton of views, and there was a clip of her dancing like a crazy pony atop one of her speakers, which she did not remember doing. She looked pretty good though. She had felt at the time like she was playing sloppy, but she was too busy vibing to really care. Maybe she should do that more. Heck, that was how she’d got her start, anyway. Just drinking potions with the fillies and vibing the night away.
When had she stopped having as much fun with her music? It wasn’t just doing it for a living. Was it when she’d broken up with- Um, maybe when she’d been kicked out of the house? She wasn’t sure. She did miss doing songs with vocals, though. Ever since her marefri- Anyway, she missed vocals. She did a few with Coloratura once but that was more her doing a background beat for someone else, and less her making a Pon-3 song. Oh and she’d worked with Princess Twilight at the wedding, but that was a song designed for live vocals and also a one off, so didn’t really count.
The newsstand pony seized a broom in his misshapen teeth, and Vinyl decided it was time to move her thinking somewhere else before she caught bristles to the flank. She wasn’t sure what to do with her day. She seldom was. Nights were easy. She was either playing shows or going to shows. . . Or drinking. Days were hard, there was much less to do. She couldn’t believe it, but she was missing the terrible luncheons with Stellar and Mane-gel.
She checked her phone again. Somepony had to be around. Somepony who lived in Manehattan. She dug through her contacts, which was completely useless. Most were a description that she had slapped on, or whatever junk the pony had typed in when Vinyl hoofed them the phone. Some were unintelligible, probably earth ponies that had no magic or wings to operate the smaller unicorn phone. It was like a bunch of little time capsules, each text conversation ending when the show did, or soon after. The only ones that were active consistently were Stellar, her parents and little sister. Pinkie Pie texted every week like clockwork, naturally. . . and now Parish and Octy hovered there.
Would Octy and Parish be the same way? The show was over, after all. Awards had been given, and this was the honeymoon period before they went their separate ways again.
As she wandered from the crowded streets into a deserted park, one of the little text rectangles scooted its way to the top. Her sister. Raven Inkwell had been smart enough to skip the music field entirely and gone into government. Mum had really tried to complain, laser targeting on how Raven had worked her way up through the ranks rather than taking a seat on the nobles council. . . But now that Raven worked with the Princess directly, there wasn’t much Harpy could say. Not much anypony could say.
May I call? Are you working? The text itself said simply. Vinyl would’ve swore the digital letters were neater than usual. Inky had that effect. Vinyl didn’t bother answering, just magically punched call instead.
“Inky.” Vinyl said immediately. “It’s before noon. Why would I be working?”
“Ugh, Vinyl, first, you know if I don’t ask, you will be.” Inky replied, her clipped tone softened somewhat as she continued. “Second, I was half expecting you to still be asleep, it seems like you went a little off last night. Third, maybe you were having one of your silent episodes and couldn’t talk.”
“Well-” Vinyl glanced around. She was surrounded by bushes and a small, gross pond. Nopony close to her. “Yeah, that’s fair. I didn’t really plan on going crazy, I was actually trying to work on something, but Silver Tongue was there, so. . .”
“Yeah. Ugh.” Inky’s voice tightened. Vinyl could practically hear her muzzle scrunching up furiously. “I get it.”
“Yeah.” Vinyl said. Wasn’t much else to say. “So what’s up, anyway? Everything cool?”
“Oh, yes. Sorry, I was going to ask,” Raven put her Princess’ Functionary voice back on. “First, I will be organizing the Canterlot garden party in two weeks, and second; your performance was requested.”
“I was requested?” Vinyl rubbed the back of her head, disbelieving. “Like, by name?”
“Well, yes actually. First, you were requested by name by two ponies.” Inky gave the vocal equivalent of a shrug. “Second, others also asked for soft electronica or trance, and you were recently highly decorated by a respectable institution. . .”
“Third, I’m your sister. . .” Vinyl chuckled.
“That would be nepotism, Vinyl. That has nothing to do with my decision.” Inky giggled primly. “But it is a bonus. Or malus, depending on the day.”
“Right, right. Love you too” Vinyl laughed again. “Say, question.”
“What is it?” The longsuffering voice came on in full force. It made Vinyl crack up again.
“Uh, Octavia Melody.” Vinyl asked, trying to make her voice airy and don’t-give-a-bump, but she wasn’t sure how well it took. “She usually plays at these, right? She gonna play at this one too?”
“Yes. . .” Inky said slowly. “Why?”
“No reason. She’s just a buddy.” Vinyl backpedaled, literally, nearly walking into a bush. “Why so suspicious, Inky?”
“First off, you have a type. Tall, strong, dark coat?” Inky plowed on over Vinyl’s protests. “Secondly, you have a terrible track record of falling in love with straight mares. All the better if they are taken. You’ve done this ever since Tra-”
“Yep, I’ll take the gig.” Vinyl took a quick, deep breath, her mind blanking and rebooting. What was Inky saying? Something about Octy? “Sorry, got a little distracted there. What were we talking about?”
“Octavia is not a good idea, Vinyl. Especially for you. That’s the bottom line.” Inky’s voice was back to no-nonsense, which didn’t really fit the subject matter, in Vinyl’s opinion.
“You’re the one jumping to conclusions, for Celestia's sake!” Vinyl waved a hoof at her burning face and had a sudden mental image of ruining Ravens perfectly orderly mane with a mop of magic. “I ask one question and you think I’m ring shopping or something!”
“. . . Vinyl.” Still serious voice from Inky, but it was strained now. “Did you not read the paper?”
“No, I did. . . “ Vinyl’s mind raced. “I mean, I skimmed. It’d be all pictures of me and Silver, right? What’s the big deal?”
“No, Vinyl. First, let me read you the headline. . .” Inky cleared her throat. “‘Double Timing DJ? Vinyl’s Voracious Variety of Ponies!’”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes. Secondly, there’s even a picture of you and Octavia. Two, actually. One of the two of you blushing at a luncheon-” The serious voice had completely cracked now, the giggles bursting forth. Vinyl groaned loud enough to scare off a pair of geese. “And one of her practically carrying you to a taxi. . .”
“Oh come on!” Vinyl never whined, but this was probably getting close. She halfheartedly bucked a small pebble into the park pond. “That was the middle of the night! Who was snapping shots?!”
“The article was written by ‘Cross Reference’. Honestly Vinyl, you should try actually reading one of these days.” Inky had regained control of her voice.
“Cross Reference. . .” Vinyl rubbed her temple. Her memory was still extremely fuzzy, but something about that name was so familiar. “Ah whatever, I guess it doesn’t matter. But wait, if I was caught with Octy, why did mom still pay me?”
“Mom pays you?” Inky sounded surprised, and Vinyl kicked herself for saying that part out loud. Whoops. “Wait, Octy?!”
“Uh, yeah, she pays me sometimes. To be seen with this pony or that pony or go to some specific place. Probably some secret master plot about ruining everybody's lives and giving us over to actual Harpies.” Vinyl shrugged, wishing she could project it over the phone. She very deliberately ignored the nickname slip. “But it was really good money, so I was gonna just chill with Silver for a bit and then ditch him, but I guess I kinda got ditched instead and then Octy came to get me. . . Still weird though, mum always hated me being gay. You’d think she’d have stopped the payment. Maybe she didn’t read either.”
“I don’t know what to say about any of this.” Inky went silent for a long moment. Vinyl stared out at the algae covered water, watching chunks of ice float in lazy circles.
“Well, here’s what I have to say.” Vinyl said. “And I’ll do it in one of the lists you love so much. First off, Octy is absolutely not taken. Parish is gayer than one of those Summer Sunpoles you wrap rainbow ribbons around. Secondly, Octy and I are barely even friends, we’re more like. . . rivals. We just like to talk trash a bunch, that’s all. Thirdly, shut up.”
“Right. Rivals. Just be ready for me to say ‘I told you so.’” Inky didn’t sound convinced. Vinyl shook her head. Ponies could be so stubborn sometimes. “Anyway. Can I pencil you in for the Garden Party?”
“Yeah, sure. You just want some whatever trance or you want a new song or what?” Vinyl’s overworked brain was glad to snap back to business mode. “Let's talk brass tacks. Metaphorically, I mean, not about Uncle Tacky.”
“This is an event hosted by the crown.” Inky said, sounding almost offended. She had a better business voice than Vinyl. Vinyl wasn’t ashamed to admit it. “Spare no expense. You will be expected to work with the other musicians, so perhaps you can tune something to suit.”
“Hmm. You know.” Vinyl smiled slowly. Serendipity was knocking. “I have been working on electronic versions of classical pieces lately. . for completely unrelated reasons. Maybe I could double down on that. Could you get me a vocalist?”
“Hmm. We will see. Thanks, Vinyl. I’ll draw up the paperwork and send you the details later.” She sounded almost excited. Classic Inky. Who else got this excited over paperwork?
“Sounds good, sounds good.” Vinyl could envision the piles of bits already. “Always a pleasure to serve the princesses. Say, you think I could get face time with Celestia? You were talking about unrealistic crushes earlier, so I figure I might as well shoot for the moon. Or sun, in this case.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” Inky chuckled through her serious voice. “Goodbye forever, Vinyl.”
“Goodbye forever.” Vinyl echoed, and hung up.
With the call over, Vinyl’s music popped back into her ears. The shuffle had apparently kept going, and she landed right in the middle of some kind of bouncy pop song. She let her hooves get carried by it, dancing her way out of the park. She spun herself around an older stallion with a flourish, not caring how much of a crazy pony she looked like.
She was excited. About the bits, obviously. Octy and Parish being around again was just a nice bonus. Inky was talking crazy talk. Her and Octy? What did Inky think, that they’d spent the night together? You’d have to be bananas to think that. Vinyl couldn’t even imagine that.
Vinyl just couldn’t see her and Octy dancing at the party. Balanced against each other’s hooves. Ripples of soft violet music thrumming through both of them from the bass. Her looking into Octy’s beautiful matching eyes. Those eyes filled with the same admiration she had seen in them when she played piano. Vinyl leaning in, and Octy blushing, but not pulling away. The velvet fuzz of her muzzle as they pressed their lips together, just for a moment, before propriety tugged them apart. A hoof held too long after the song. A shared smile. The silent promise of more to come. Private dinners and concerts. Long talks and walks on the shore. A trip on an airship. A secret visit to Octy’s parents in Ponyville. Matching silver bands, with gemstones shaped to the partners cutie mark. A perfect moment at the end of her biggest show yet, the hoof band in her bag to seal a happily ever after.
Nope, Vinyl couldn’t imagine any of that.