//------------------------------//
// The End of One, the Beginning of Another 
// Story: Regret 
// by IceQB 
//------------------------------//

	Sniff.... sniff...

Octavia started walking off the stage, eyes glimmering with one last shimmer of hope as she turned her head and scanned the crowd for a streak of blue. Amongst the cheers, she stood behind the piano, wondering if she had ever seen blue in her performances. Jitters treaded every performer’s nerves, but Octavia felt pale in comparison to her grey coat. The more she searched, the more the color blue had grown cold in her memories; her bright skies obtruded by the hazy rainclouds that had once stood in front of her but were pushed away dimmed. Now, her rainclouds were back, and her sky had become dark.

Her rousing applauses and her dying faith had been similar; both would diminish over time. Like fire, her burning curiosity had raged at the end of her performance, with hedges of praise and appreciation formed where the crowd was, and barricades of fear and disappointment instituted where her head stood. The ever similar question popped up at the start, middle and end of every performance, her head swirling in fear as her trance-inducing, bass-loving supporting pillar of confidence crumbled with each of its presence absent.

“Are you here yet, Vinyl?”

Often, the question would delay itself until the very end, which often came as no surprise to Octavia. She had grown used to Vinyl’s empty promises and defected love; a once mare-loving pony indulged in her own passion, a now DJ-obsessed pony replaced against her will. She had kept herself going with her own façade she thought was willpower, spending the time she was left alone learning different instruments to block out and avoid the underlying problem with her relationship. Her choice of piano was an odd one, given her hate for synthesisers, a similar instrument that struck hard on her eardrums, and now her heart. After hours of solitude, the cellist cum pianist had mastered it, channelling her thoughts of her last few concerts onto the black and white keys.

With Vinyl working hard on her own music, Octavia had plenty of time to focus on her lyrics in what used to be their room, which had become solely hers as Vinyl would sleep in the underground recording studio, often exhausted from work and perhaps too lazy to climb upstairs. Her muse of lyrical ingenuity had started after the coronation of Princess Cadenze and Prince Shining Armour, where she had personally been invited by Princess Cadenze to the post-wedding dance that Vinyl herself DJed, whom had been recommended by Octavia herself. After the dance, which had been a hit, Vinyl had rode away on her train of fame, slowly distancing herself from the world, from Octavia, but closing in on her personal goal of being more than just famous: she demanded the respect. Her obsession had led more than one astray, Octavia now trapped inside Vinyl’s fissure. She wanted her best friend’s dream to be reality, but in actuality, her nightmare started. And it was all her fault.

Maybe she shouldn’t have let Vinyl chance upon the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Maybe she shouldn’t even have fallen for her. But until now, she hadn’t regretted any of these. Now, the only thing she could do was to live on with what was still sane in her life: her own music, which she had often compared to with her own actions. There were the classic string pieces, which, like life, she would rely on muscle memory itself to execute. There were the occasional guitar pieces, which, like love, she would painstakingly press down on each string with poise to create even the slightest resonance, with every wrong execution returning nothing but static silence. And then there were the experimental piano pieces, which, like hate, she would do nothing but let her hooves do all the talking, drowning out her sorrow in melancholy and music. More often than she thought, her piano pieces had taken centre-stage in her life, fulfilling the gaping hole that punctured in her heart.

“Are you here yet, Vinyl?” Octavia asked again, but all she was replied were the praises for her performance. She glanced down onto her grey coat, which had dulled itself over the course of the performance. She wondered if it had been her natural coat in the first place, and wondered if that tint of orange she thought she had had ever existed. It looked more like a mix of grey and brown to her right about now. Her eyes danced in its sockets, and the more she stared, the more she started believing that indeed, grey had always been her natural coating, and her sugar-coated orange she always wanted had always been a faded brown. Well at least, her brown would go well with her grey, both possessing unique qualities to compensate for one another’s flaw.

“I guess not… once again,” said Octavia, who now had been dulled to her pain. She faced the audience once again, and took a graceful bow to the ponies that actually came for her. That was where she noticed in the reflection of the waxed wooden floors a face of defeat had emerged. Had she been defeated by Vinyl’s failure to appreciate her hard work? Or was this all a game her head played on her at times? Rejection and failure were common to her after years of auditions and performances. The chants and jeers had only brought herself to work harder, to strive for excellence, and to attain perfection. In return, she made it big time, her music now recognized throughout Canterlot. But unlike her song, she felt she could break all this while. She hadn't been as strong as titanium as most people perceive her to be. The masses had demanded her nothing but what she was capable of, and she was afraid of breaking down and succumbing to her emotions. Everyone knew about their relationship, how music had transformed her, but Octavia held steadfast to her heart, refusing to let any jealous ponies ruin her life. Was all of this just a game of fame- a game that she had created for Vinyl- but got sucked into it unknowingly?

She stared further into her reflection, unable to comprehend until now, the magnitude of her own actions. Was it so that she hated Vinyl so much for not showing up for her performances? She needed answers. She needed Vinyl. But Vinyl hadn’t ever been here for her. In realisation, she hadn't exactly been there for her either. On Vinyl’s birthday, Octavia thought it would be a great idea to surprise her with a song. She had invited her to one of her concerts, and planned to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ there. Yet on that day, Vinyl already had plans she wanted to do with Octavia alone, but Octavia had insisted she attended her recital. The two of them fought on that day, leaving a heartbroken, yet strong-willed Vinyl alone on her birthday, and confused, saddened Octavia alone on her stage.

Maybe she did get an answer. But she had been too stubborn to realise the upbeat DJ craved solitude, and the solemn cellist craved attention. She had always seen it as the other way around, where Vinyl would go off partying, and Octavia would stay home practicing for another recital. It looked the norm, and everypony else did view it that way. But deep inside, she knew she wanted the attention of everypony. She wanted Vinyl’s fame. Then it struck her.

I... I had been jealous of Vinyl all along.

Vinyl had been more of a best friend to her. She had been an inspiration, a motivating factor for herself to push past her limits. All this while, she had tried to overtake Vinyl in her pursuit of fame, but little did she know, Vinyl’s fame had help Octavia rise to where she was now. Octavia might have taken Vinyl in, but Vinyl pulled all the ropes in their separate careers. Without the attention of their marriage, which Vinyl proposed, they wouldn’t be in the limelight as often. Without DJ-ing for the Royal Wedding, they wouldn’t be well-known throughout Equestria. And without her absence, Octavia wouldn’t have come up with catchy tunes that made her famous. Yet with all of this, Octavia kept her head held high, riding on the success she thought she built alone, but her shame brought her head back down.

I gotta apologise to Vin. I gotta fix this before it’s too late, thought Octavia. As she looked up at the crowd one last time, she flashed a smile; tonight though, it wasn’t for her success, but rather, for the failures; the mistakes she had made throughout her life had revealed themselves to her, and played beautiful chords in her heart this evening. She backed off behind the curtains, received the standing ovation she deserved, and then bolted towards the exit as fast as possible. She looked down at her coat once again, the radiant grey now reflecting the sparkles in her eyes, the never-ending fire blazing in her heart. In the calm night skies, the silver mare rode off, and the feint orange she had had faded away. As the moon showered grace upon her, she thought maybe, just maybe, she did have a tint of brown in her coat after all.