Private Gig
by NavyPony
Op. 1, Movt 2
A Prima Vista
Octavia was gorgeous.
‘Gorgeous’ was the only way to put it. She was too lovely to be merely ‘attractive’ or ‘good-looking’, too regal for ‘sexy’ to be appropriate, mature enough to preclude being ‘cute’, and striking enough that ‘picturesque’ fell grossly short. The mare was graceful and refined, with a smile that somehow managed to be equally amiable and mysterious. The dainty way she slid her bow across the cello strings and the dexterous way her hoof moved across its neck both spoke of the refinement and sophistication expected of a Canterlot native. But just as much, she was an earth pony, and it showed. There was a robust passion in her movements – a stubborn and sensuous strength which crept into the way she threw her shoulders and how she turned her neck.
All of these things crept into every aspect of the mare – from her movements to her music – and from the first moment she was revealed on the doorstep, Octavia drew every eye in the room. Even when the Cakes did finally appear, a reproduction of their now-infamous Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness balanced perilously between them, Octavia remained the center of attention. It was only after Pinkie Pie led the party-goers in a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ (Octavia singing and playing along with them) that things began returning to normal. Cake was served, drinks were poured, and the party’s most recent addition started playing J.S. Buck’s Six Suites. Before long, she was just another source of background music.
Still, even as the games resumed and the guests moved back to what they were doing before she arrived, some ponies continued to talk about the musician.
Rainbow Dash was amongst them. “So what’s up with her?” she wondered aloud, scratching her mane bemusedly. “I mean, she’s not from Ponyville. Did she come all the way out here just for Twilight’s party?”
“Ah don’t rightly know, Sugarcube. Ah mean, she ain’t from Ponyville, and the mare sure as hay don’t look familiar to me, but Ah’m getting’ the feelin’ that she’s a big deal o’ some sort. Definitely gives off that vibe, don’t she? A real genteel sorta mare, and right good at that instrument, too.”
“Genteel? Really, AJ? She’s-”
Happening to overhear her friends’ conversation from where she stood by the wall, Fluttershy stepped in. As uncharacteristic of her as it was to interject, she did so, albeit in a whisper. “She’s Octavia. She’s a really talented and popular cellist in Canterlot, you know.” The pegasus increased her volume slightly when Dash and Applejack both paused their conversation. “In fact, she was one of the performers at the Grand Galloping Gala last year, although she normally only does smaller, private performances – parties and receptions and the like. Still, I’d never imagined she would come all the way out here, especially for… well, something like this. I hear she’s really exclusive, and almost never-”
“Uh, Fluttershy?”
“Yes, Rainbow Dash?” The other pegasus’ eyes widened and her neck tilted towards the floor. “I’m sorry, was I being rude again? I shouldn’t have interrupted you; I was being boring, wasn’t it?”
“What? ‘Course not, Darlin’,” Applejack answered. “It’s just… Ah think Dash here was wonderin’: where didja learn all o’ this? Ah’ve never heard ya mention a… uh… more than a passin’ interest in music.”
Rainbow chimed in with a vigorous nod. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about this stuff before. Since when have you been all classical-music-y and stuff?”
Fluttershy blushed with an apologetic grin. “What? Oh, I’m sorry. I talk about it with Rarity and Twilight, sometimes. I just figured that you weren’t big fans, so I wouldn’t waste your time with it. Was I wrong?”
“Ehh… It’s just surprisin’… And not that Ah don’t enjoy myself a bit o’ music like this, just that Ah don’t know much about it.” Applejack gave a good-natured chuckle at herself as she explained, “Guess Ah’m a li’l bit ignorant when it comes to this stuff.”
“Well that’s okay, Applejack. I’d be glad to tell you all about it.” The usually timid pegasus broke out into an enthusiastic smile. “I suppose the first thing you should know is that-”
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
Not all of the partygoers were quite as enthralled as Fluttershy. One such pony was Lyra Heartstrings, whose words weren’t intended for many ponies to hear. “I can’t stand her.”
“Really?” Bonbon turned to her on-and-off marefriend, expression mildly perplexed. “You probably know more than I do about it, but I thought she sounds very nice, and-”
“That’s not what I mean,” the unicorn muttered with a roll of her eyes. “Sure, she can play – but that’s not much. Blues can play, Fiddlesticks can play, Kazooie can play, Meadow can play. Hay, I can play. As of the last Equestrian census, do you know what percentage of non-pegasus ponies have cutie marks that are music related?”
Bonbon clung to a hope that answering the question would keep her friend from devolving into a party-stopping tirade. She could only try. “Sev-”
It didn’t stop her from continuing, but at least she kept quiet. “Seven. Seven percent of all non-pegasus ponies cite their special talent as ‘music’ or ‘music-related’. Lots of ponies can play just as well as Octy.”
Damage control involved changing the subject ever-so-slightly. “Octy?”
“Octy, because her name’s Octavia. It’s like… what do you call it? A sobriquet, maybe? It’s diminutive, and that’s why I use it.”
“Like how I call you Ly-Ly sometimes?”
“No, that’s a hypocorism, which… you know, not right now. The issue is that Octy isn’t better than I, but she still…” Lyra scrunched her visage up in a generic sort of scowl; it may have been intended to hide her jealousy, but it did a poor job thereof. “She’s famous, and rich, and popular, and famous and…”
“And you’re not?”
“And I’m stuck playing in the park for bits… I just can’t figure it out.” Her shoulders drooped. “Maybe it’s because she’s prettier than I am…”
Living with a bipolar marefriend was hard. “Lyra…”
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
Living with a bipolar anypony was hard, in fact, and Spike could’ve attested to that fact. Twilight was acting weird tonight, and although a certain amount of strangeness was typical for her, this was a little bit more than he was comfortable. After all, better safe than sorry. “Umm, Twilight? Is everything okay? Hello~” He had to wave a scaled claw in front of her face to provoke any sort of reaction. “Twilight? Is someth-”
Being the first pony to really speak with her since the cellist’s arrival, Spike felt the full brunt of Twilight’s excitement, built up over the last ten minutes – she went from expressionless catatonia to beaming like Pinkie Pie in less time than she could’ve cast a cantrip. Spike may have been the one speaking to her, but he wasn’t the only one to take note when Twilight declared, “That’s Octavia. That’s the Octavia van Clef. She’s… she’s Octavia!” She wasn’t quite shouting, but it was close.
“Uhh… yeah, she said that when she came in,” Spike replied, urging Twilight to calm down. “Do you know her?”
She laughed aloud. “Hahahaha… Know her? Of course not. Spike, if I knew her, my life would be complete.” The young mare paused for a moment, indulging in her more meticulous nature. “Well, except for finishing my reading list, visiting Neighpon, learning to play the piano, getting published in a scientific journal, perfecting my teleportation spell, going on a fishing trip with Shiny, adopting a foal, earning a teaching certificate, having Celestia declare me a pr-”
“Twilight?”
Spike’s question got her to stop speaking just long enough to notice the attention she was attracting. With a blush and an awkward hoof through her mane, Twilight muttered, “Oh. Umm, sorry. I mean, no, I don’t know her, but I know who she is. She’s a cellist from Canterlot, and she’s really, really good. She’s like, my favorite modern musician, and-”
“Excuse me, darling?” Carrying a piece of cake with her magic, Rarity stepped from the crowd with an immense smirk plastered on her face; only the seamstress’ closest friends might’ve guessed that it was forced. “A word please?” She threw a hoof around the birthday mare in an uncharacteristically casual gesture and pulled the other unicorn away from the forming crowd (and Spike), not stopping until they were in a private corner. Rarity didn’t say anything more until they were safely ignored by the rest of guests, at which point she dropped her friendly demeanor entirely. "Twilight,” she started with a serious tone, “how much do you know about this Octavia?”
“Hmm? Oh, lots,” Twilight answered after collecting herself. “She’s specializes in Baroque-era music, even though she’s most known for playing a Tchaiklopsky piece at one of Prince Blueblood’s celebrations – it’s where she got her start, in fact. After that, she started playing at parties and get-togethers for the nobility, and-”
“That’s not quite what I mean,” Rarity said, cutting in with a hesitant grimace. “How much do you know about her – not her music, but her?”
The way Twilight creased her forehead answered the question before she could form words. “What do you mean?”
Rarity scoffed. It was a polite scoff – the very pinnacle of refinement – but it was a scoff nonetheless. “Twilight… have you...” She hesitated momentarily, searching for the proper phrasing. “Have you ever inquired about this pony from… from anypony who knew much about her?”
As bright as she might’ve been, Twilight missed the gist of the question. “Of course,” she answered, smiling obliviously. “I talked to Princess Celestia after I heard her play, and she likes her music, too. She says that Miss Octavia does some of the Baroque-iest Baroque she’s ever heard, and that’s saying something – she was alive back then, after all. But don’t you see? That’s why she’s here: the Princess hired her for my birthday.” The way Twilight beamed went beyond ecstasy. “She is my birthday present.”
Rarity sighed, and her sigh was not quite as polite as the previous scoff. “I… I think that should be taken as a no, you haven’t heard about her… Or else you do know about her, and I miss my mark entirely.” She thrust her untouched plate of cake towards Twilight with a questionable glance and a dark tone; it was only her minimal volume which kept her from attracting attention. “Darling, I’ve been to Canterlot more recently than you, and in a more… worldly capacity than you ever were. I’ve seen the kind of… soirees Miss van Clef performs at, and more importantly, who she performs for. It’s-”
“Whom.”
“Why, this Octavia van Clef, of course,” Rarity said with a slightly confused pout. “Who else are we talking about?”
“No, ‘whom’,” Twilight corrected once more. “As in ‘whom else are we talking about’, or ‘whom she performs for’. Although that should actually be ‘for whom she-”
“Shush,” the white unicorn pronounced, once more pushing her plate towards Twilight. “Eat some more cake and listen to me.”
Taking the cake up in her telekinesis, Twilight silenced herself and did as she’d been bade. Also, she ignored Rarity’s diction – one could always have more cake; one could never have less.
“Now, as I was saying,” the white unicorn whispered, “you may have lived there most of your life, but I understand a bit more about Canterlot than you do, and if the rumors are true… Miss van Clef is very Canterlot. I’m worried that you may have the wrong idea about her, you see. Unless I’m very much mistaken, she’s,” Rarity punctuated her sentence with an acute sniff, “she’s not really here to play music.”
Try as she could to follow her friend’s account, Twilight was distracted; the MMMM was probably the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted, and for a pony who’d shared meals with the Sun Goddess, that was saying something. “I’m sorry, what do you mean?” she managed to ask between bites. Actually, ‘between’ wasn’t completely accurate – her mouth was at least partially full. “Princess Celestia hired her to perform and-”
It was getting to be too much for the seemly Rarity. “Yes, I know,” she said, massaging a temple. “And who am I to argue with a Princess about such trivial matters? Temporal matters, I suppose. But still… I’ve known you for more than a year, now. You’re my friend, and I’m worried, is all. It’s your business, of course, and I won’t tell the others, but… do be careful, won’t you? Just because she’s charming and proper, just because she specializes in the upper crust, it doesn’t change what she is, it’s just another boon for her. Her real job isn’t music, it’s pleasure.”
Twilight was confused enough to put her fork down and place her plate of cake on the nearest surface. “Well of course, right? I’ve read that it’s what performance is all about – the key component, if you will. Sensory pleasure is the foundation of any entertainer’s success.”
“Precisely,” hissed Rarity, “and Miss van Clef is very successful. She’s not a musician, darling – she’s an entertainer.”