CHAPTER EIGHT
Vinyl's Lament
You are Vinyl Scratch.
And filly, you are in a world of pain. All of this stuff going on with Anon has left you physically and emotionally drained. You've not touched a drop of alcohol since the incident in the Crystal Empire — or, as it's more commonly known, the Night You Bucked Up.
But you can't help how you feel about him. He's a great guy – something you've known since you met him – and you feel that the two of you are made for each other. It's just a pity he doesn't agree with you. But you're not one for giving up, oh no.
You can still dream about being with Anon even if he is unwilling to reciprocate your love. You could have sworn you've seen Princess Luna in a couple of your dreams, but you probably just imagined it. Love makes a mare see – and do – silly things.
"Vinyl?"
You've been racking your brain trying to figure out ways to make Anon see that the two of you belong together. But your brain doesn't seem willing to come up with any ideas. All you can think of is Anon's body pressed against yours as he—
"VINYL!"
Somepony shouting your name pulls you back into the realm of cognitive thinking. You look around and find yourself looking at a grey Earth pony mare, who is looking at you concernedly.
"For a minute there," she says dryly, "I thought you were dead. Is a life of partying finally catching up with you?"
"Sorry, Octavia," you reply, "I was lost in my thoughts."
Octavia sits down next to you, the concern on her face even more apparent than it was before.
"Okay," she says, "now I know something is wrong with you. You just called me 'Octavia'. Not 'Octy' or 'Tavi', but 'Octavia'."
You don't reply. Octavia sighs and places a hoof on your shoulder.
"What's wrong, Vinyl?" she asks gently, "Does this have something to do with your friend Anon? Are you still worrying about what happened in the Crystal Empire?"
You shake your head.
"Look, Vinyl," Octavia continues, "I know you and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye when it comes to music, but I still consider you to be a friend of mine. So please... tell me what's wrong."
That's all you needed to hear. You burst into tears and wrap your forelegs around Octavia's neck. She seems surprised at first, but returns the gesture and allows you to cry into her coat. Five minutes pass by, though to you it feels like five hours, and you eventually manage to compose yourself. Pulling back from Octavia you smile sheepishly and sniffle pathetically.
"Wow," Octavia mutters, "you must have some serious issues. Come on, tell me what's wrong."
With a deep breath you launch into the whole story, starting from the day you met Anon. You go on to talk about your feelings for him growing, the day Tech Beat turned up at the club, the Crystal Empire incident, telling Anon you loved him, his furious denouncement of your friendship and then him moving out.
By the time you are finished you feel like crying again. Octavia passes you a tissue and you blow your nose into it.
"I'm so sorry, Vinyl," she said, "I had no idea you felt like that. In fact, I didn't even know you felt anything."
She smiles to let you know she's joking and you chuckle weakly. You bury your head in your forehooves and sigh.
"What the buck am I supposed to do, Octavia?" you say, "I can't be with Anon, yet I can't forget about him either."
"From the sounds of it," Octavia replies, "Anon is simply confused about his own feelings. Give him time to think and he might end up surprising you."
You snort derisively.
"Yeah," you sarcastically reply, "and on that day I will become an alicorn just like Twilight Sparkle."
Octavia sighs and rolls her eyes.
"Sorry," you mutter, "I shouldn't be dropping my problems on you like this. Thanks for listening, Octavia. It's good to know that I still have one friend in my life."
Octavia smiles and pats you on the back.
"Don't mention it, Vinyl," she replies, "I'm happy to help. And who knows? Perhaps one day I will come to you for advice."
"And on that day," you crack a smile, "we'll both become alicorns."
You chuckle at your own joke and Octavia soon joins you. You sigh contentedly, happy to be in good company.
"So, Octavia," you say, "you've heard what's going on with me, but what about you? I take it you're preparing for your performance at the Grand Galloping Gala next week?"
Octavia glances around the room and rubs a foreleg nervously, seemingly unable to look at you.
"My ensemble isn't playing at the Gala this year." she says quietly, "Apparently the organisers have decided that we are 'too boring', and have given the entertainment contract to somepony else."
"Who?" you reply in shock, "It's not that pony who ruined it for you last year, is it? Pinkie Pie I think her name is."
Octavia shakes her head.
"No..." she sighs, "I didn't want to tell you, but since you're probably going to read about it in the papers tomorrow..."
"Octavia..." you say firmly, "who's the jerk that's taking your spotlight away from you?"
Octavia looks you dead in the face.
"Anon." she replies, "They gave the job to Anon."
You stare at her blankly for a moment before replying.
"Oh," you say, "I'm sorry to hear that."
Octavia waves a hoof dismissively.
"It's not your fault," she grumbles, "blame those brain-dead fools on the organisation committee. Ever since your kind of music became popular, more and more Canterlot ponies have come to accept it as the norm. I, however, am not one of them. No offence."
"None taken." you reply, "I'd feel the same way if dubstep was here first and then classical came along."
"I know that you always get a ticket to the Gala," Octavia muses, "but now that you know Anon is going to be performing there this year... are you still going to go?"
You mull it over.
For about a microsecond.
"Of course I am." you reply jovially, "Anon has no control over where I can and can not go."
"And what will you do," Octavia asks, "if you run into him?"
"If I run into him," you say, "then I will simply say 'hello'. What happens after that is up to Anon."
Octavia smiles warmly and nods.
"That's good," she says, "because Anon can't very well snap at you in the middle of a crowded area. It's bad PR. But what, if anything, do you hope to get from going to the Gala in the first place?"
You stare at the ceiling in silence for a brief moment before a single word escapes from your lips as a hushed whisper.
"Closure."
"So you hope to get a final answer on the future of you and Anon's relationship?" Octavia queries, "Good luck with that."
"I know Anon," you reply, "so I know that he'll be thinking things over and maybe talking to somepony. Though who that somepony could be is anypony's guess. By the time the Gala comes, he will want to talk to me. Whether he tells me that he loves me too, or that he's done with me once and for all, I cannot say."
"What if it's the latter?" of course Octavia had to ask that question, "What will you do then?"
"If it comes to that," you sigh, "then I will accept Anon's decision and try to move on."
"And if it's the former?" Octavia smiles, "What then?"
"Then I will show Anon just how much he means to me." you grin, "Right in front of everypony if I have to."
Octavia facehoofs.
"Too much information." she mutters, "But I get what you mean. I guess all I can do is be here for you, and wish you all the best."
"Thanks, Octy." you resume using your nickname for her, "Your support means a lot to me."
"I'm going to bed," Octavia stifles a yawn, "you are welcome to stay here if you want."
"I could use the company," you reply, "so I think I will. Thanks."
"My pleasure, Vinyl." Octavia says, "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Octavia leaves the room, turning off the light as she does so. You lie on the couch and stare at the wall. As sleep takes you, you only have one thing on your mind.
"Anon..."