Octavia allowed her head to ‘bang’ rhythmically as she played back what she had just written. These beats were, in fact, comparable to her family's potato stand in terms of sheer freshness. She believed she was finally getting the hang of the ‘drops’. Speaking frankly, the key seemed to be relying more on her own musical instincts than on any theory as she knew it. In fact, thinking about it in reverse, some of her favorite classical pieces had drops by other names.
She spun one of the strange plastic disks on the. . . ahem, deck, underhoof. The meeting with Vinyl today had inspired her greatly. She’d made excellent progress. She restarted the song to listen once more. Maybe a little more here-
A shadow from the window covered her, and she jumped. Cadance was waving. Her face was serious. Octavia raised an eyebrow. Cadance gestured to the lock, wings flitting in a graceful hover. Octavia stepped over a cluster of wires and let her royal friend in.
“What, pray tell, was wrong with the door, your highness?” Octavia asked with a smile.
“Oh, I’m sure the door is functional, Octavia.” Cadance smiled back, slightly acerbically. “The ears of the pony who would be answering it, however. . . those might require a check up.”
“Oh my, my sincerest apologies. I was rather engaged in my work.” Octavia gestured vaguely at the deck and the headphones. Something about Cadence’s demeanor was making her nervous. “Electronic music is much more complex than I understood it to be. I feel somewhat guilty for calling it mere noise for so long.”
“. . . Is this still the song for Vinyl?”
“Yes indeed it is! It must be perfect, as I’m sure you understand. I was rather inspired by a . . . chance meeting I had with her recently.” Octavia smiled. She hadn’t heard back from Vinyl yet. She was a little worried, but Vinyl was a smart filly. She would certainly be able to expose Astral for the fraud she was. And Octavia did not wish to become overbearing. No no. Vinyl would reach out on her own terms.
“How about a little break?” Cadence said, her strained smile returning. “I happen to be on my way to lunch with some other friends. . . It would be lovely to have you accompany us!”
“Lunch, you say?” Octavia considered, but found her eyes returning to the deck. She still had so many little changes to make. . . when Vinyl and her did reconnect finally, it needed to be perfect. She would not let this fade away. “I should really continue working. I must make time to practice for my own performances as well-”
“You’re not doing that?” Cadence asked, shock writ across her muzzle. “Octavia, when was the last time you ate lunch with friends? Or, um, at all?”
“Don’t be silly, Cadence, I am not so lovestruck as to forgo food.” Octavia laughed, waving a hoof airily. “Though I will admit, with Parish having finally moved out, I have had little occasion to eat with other ponies. It’s no trouble. Now that I am not paying rent on the apartment-”
“You’re not?!”
“Well, no, why would I wish to live there by myself? I travel enough. I am in hotels most of the time in any event.” Octavia shot Cadence a look. “You seem nervous, Cadence. Are you quite all right?”
“Um, yes, absolutely!” Cadence grinned nervously. “Are you quite sure you will not dine with us? Miss Rarity has come all the way from ponyville-”
“Miss Rarity has? In that case I simply cannot turn her down.” Octavis pushed VInyl to a corner of her mind. She did not stay there, but it was a symbolic gesture. Octavia cast about for her coat. “It has been several weeks since the wedding. I would like to see her.”
“Weeks? Erm, Good! Good.” Cadence exhaled. “Come on then! We have reservations. . .”
Cadence remained somewhat stiff throughout the walk to the restaurant. That was fine with Octavia, she had minimal smalltalk to contribute as it was, with her head full of music and love. Cadence led her to an outdoor patio space, and a large round table towards one of the edges, overlooking the beautiful Canterlot mountainside. Rarity and Applejack were seated next to each other, both with loving smiles on their muzzles as they argued violently over appetizers. Parish stood quickly, wrapping his hooves around Octavia before she could settle.
“Oh! Parish! Lovely to see you.” Octavia hugged him back, absently. “It has been a few days, truly an unthinkable distance between us.”
“Try a week and a half, dearest.” Parish squeezed her. “I was getting worried.”
“Oh pish, I have been busy, that’s all.” Octavia settled down at the table, and glanced idly over the menu. “Miss Rarity, Miss Applejack, a pleasure. How are our respective in-laws settling in?”
“Oh they’re cozier than a litter of barn cats.” Applejack said, adjusting her hat. “You mighta known that had you come to the housewarming Rare invited ya to-”
“Applejack!” Rarity hissed, shushing her. “I know you must have been busy, darling. You were sorely missed, however-”
“Missed?” Octavia searched her memory. Had she gotten an invitation to a housewarming? She couldn’t recall one.
“Octavia informed me that she is no longer living in her old apartment.” Cadence said, pointedly. “Perhaps that is why she is missing our invitations?”
“. . . You left the apartment?” Parish asked, a frown on his face. “I thought you loved it there. . .”
“It was a lovely house while you shared it with me, Parish.” Octavia frowned right back. What was with everypony today? “Without you, it is a lonely place indeed. I was no longer comfortable there. Even a hotel room felt more lived in.”
“Oh, Octavia. . . Forgive me, I didn-”
“Come now!” Octavia slapped the menu down, glaring around at her friends. Her famous temper was roaring to life in full force. “What is the purpose of all these questions? Am I a suspect in some sort of theft? An act of treason, perhaps?”
“Erm. . .”
“Well, that is. . .”
“I reckon so, yep.” Applejack said, probably the only blunt instrument sharp enough to neatly cut through the hemming and hawing. “More to the point, we’re worried about ya, sugar cube. We shoulda said as much instead of steppin’ around this acre of eggshells.”
“I-” Octavia blinked slowly, looking around at each of her friends. Each looked back with a slightly different cocktail of emotions. Pity. Concern. Frustration. Love. Her anger fizzled. “I don’t understand. I thought this was-”
“It might be a bit more of an. . . intervention.” Cadence said, kindly, but firmly. “We are worried about you. You seem to be struggling a little.”
“I- I wouldn’t say that.” Octavia huffed. Struggling? She was doing fine! “As I said, the apartment was no longer a sound financial investment-”
“And you didn’t pick up another one? Are you just living out of a hotel?” Cadence pressed. “What about your mail? What about your phone? The door? You don’t seem to recieve or answer any of them. None of us have spoken to you in almost a week!”
“W-well, I had a performance to give, among other things.” Octavia sniffed. “It was very highly reviewed, I’ll have you know-”
“I don’t doubt that, but-” Cadence seized Octavia’s hoof with magic, holding it up. “You’ve worn right through your calluses. So much so you’ve been favoring your hoof on the walk here. Have you done anything but play music?”
“What else should I be doing, exactly?” Octavia tried to muster up her temper again, if only as a defense. It did not answer her call. Her eyes trace sightlessly over the menu again, desperately avoiding these words.
“I know it’s not what you want to hear. . .” Cadence said, carefully. She floated over the table with a single wingflap, ready to hug Octavia. “But you should consider. . .well, allowing Vinyl and yourself to travel different roads. You should still finish your song, but maybe you should do it for yourself, and then allow yourself to move on. Or at least prepare yourself to do so. I- We fear you’re becoming somewhat obsessed.”
“Obsessed?!” Octavia said, still unable to conjure her temper. It rang true even as she shook her head violently, shaking the words loose. “No. . . I am not. I am merely a determined mare, that is all!”
“Octavia. Regardless of what you call it, it is unhealthy to accuse your crushes new lovers of being magical infiltrators.”
“‘Specially when they turn out to be princesses instead.” Applejack said, kindly, but no less bluntly. “That’s a Royal screwup an no mistakin’ it. You been honest with Vinyl. Reckon it’s time to leave it fallow.”
“Princesses. . ?” Octavia said. She suddenly felt very faint.
“Astral Brilliance is a civilian identity sometimes held by Princess Celestia.” Cadence clarified, clearing her throat several times. “We don’t blame you, perse. . . you couldn’t have known, but-”
“Princess Celestia. . ?” Octavia wobbled, leaning on the table. Her breath came in gasps as her heart stumbled on its usual rhythms. “Oh no no no. Vinyl must think- And how am I to compete with that?”
“Breathe, darling.” Rarity was at her elbow. Her face was concerned through the strange blurring effect it had on it. Was her vision failing?
“I am fine, I am-” Octavia followed a drop of water as it fell, landing on the tablecloth. Then a second. “Is-Is it raining?”
“Darling?”
Octavia reached up, a blistered hoof tracing the path of a large salty tear. Crying? No. She never cried. But the evidence was unmistakable. Moments later, the full force of the shattering of her heart struck her. Her friends were right, were they not? She had been living a fantasy.
With a lurch, she pushed away from the table, ignoring the muffled cries. She ran the whole way back to the hotel, dodging ponies left and right. The elevator took too long, so she took the stairs, stumbling as she went. The instant she closed her door behind her, she took a shuddering breath, and let it out as a wail. She couldn’t remember a sound like that ever escaping from her before. A pink blur hovered at the window, so she fled further, fumbling with the door to the bedroom and slamming it shut, snapping the lock. She dropped then and there, her energy spent, her hooves trembling too much to continue.
And for the first time in fifteen years, Octavia Melody cried herself to sleep.