//------------------------------// // Moving On // Story: Regret // by IceQB //------------------------------// ARGH! She assaulted the brick red sidewalk, throwing relentless punches against the immobile, indestructible, and yet innocent target, just to vent her anger out. And when she got tired of it, she picked up pebbles and hurled them, hoping to break the wall down. One of them hit the sign above, which read ‘Backstage. Authorised ponies only allowed. No exceptions.”. She took a slightly larger pebble than the average, and took aim at the taunting words above, only stopping to reflect upon her words earlier this evening. She doesn’t hate me. I know she doesn’t. The words, painted in crimson against a white background and black squared frame, stood out visibly in the cold, winter night, the snow refusing to blanket the rocky flooring. The streetlights shone above her, but she was a broken beacon herself; her light had died off, her flames had dried up, and she could do nothing but wait for her shattered bulb to heal itself in time. Could she still see? After tonight, she hadn’t had the slightest clue. Disappointment had been second nature to her, as far as her music life went. But she tried hard to keep her music life and regular life apart... or at least she thought she did. With each day passing, her clock ticked faster than it should have, her ears picking up each note in the piece like a jigsaw puzzle. Except that in her jigsaw puzzle of life, she had been missing a piece all this while. Where the missing piece was, she could take forever to search for. I… I don’t get it… I tried my best... but… She breathed a sigh out, and dropped the pebble she had been holding onto. It clinked and clanked onto the gravelly pavement, the pebble joining its companions once again. Then, as she watched it rest on the floor, the pebble broke into two, and a strong wind blew, sending half the piece across the deserted alley. She kicked the remaining piece aside, then stood there in utter silence. Then, as fate wanted her to do, she moved towards the direction of the two half-pebbles, and picked up the one she had kicked away. She looked around for the second half, but it was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, Vinyl bolted out of the alley, with half a pebble in her possession, and sulked bitterly along the streets of Ponyville. At this hour, most ponies would be sleeping, preparing for the next day. But Octavia had found herself lumbering on the streets, unsure whether or not to go home. The streets littered with an assortment of shops, most of which had taken their due leave for the day, and would resume business after the brink of daylight. On the grassy paving, Octavia travelled on conjured illusions; in her mind, heavy bricks were all she felt. Had I been made the fool tonight? As she made her along rows of empty shop houses, a tiny pebble had rolled its way over to her side, gently nudging her right hoof. She stopped and stared at it, before swooping down and picking it up. The pebble rocked gently in her hoof, the half of it visibly broken straight down the centre. “Well, hello there, little one. What are you doing here all alone?” said Octavia to the pebble. The light from the lamppost shone onto the pebble, its smooth surfacing reflecting a sparkle like one pony did when they smiled in the light. “All strong and independent, I see. Well, care to join me on my journey?” Octavia tossed the rock slightly in the air and caught it once again. “I’ll take that as a leap of faith, a jump for joy then.” Gently, she placed it inside her music folder, where hundreds of pages of lyrics, songs and melodies, in an array of classical, pop and the occasional dubstep pieces she had transcribed from the years spent with the rugged DJ, lived in unison. Something caught her eye in the dubstep section, and pulled out, from the corner so as not to damage the manuscript, a piece titled ‘I Knew You Were Treble – DJ P0N-3’. She recognised this piece easily, having modified the tune sometime back when she was learning how the play the piano. She also decided to leave the lyrics intact. Instead, her own rendition consisted of a piano and string duet, leaving the dubstep totally out, something which Vinyl disapproved of her. The DJ had always enjoyed what she called the ‘resonance of bass’ and ‘pulsing euphoria’ in her dubstep songs, and having listened to both versions some time ago, Octavia had to admit, Vinyl’s version was much more catchier. It swayed her vibes in a way unimaginable to most Canterlot ponies, and she didn’t need more than the disdained looks on everypony’s face when Vinyl cranked it on her set to recognize that it wasn’t socially accepted. Before she realised, she started humming the chorus. “Cause I knew you were treble when you walked in.” She stopped mid-verse, and scanned her surroundings. Other than the occasional fireflies that flew by, no other living soul was in her immediate vicinity. She then continued, daring to raise to volume just a notch louder. If she had been caught singing pop tunes, she would most likely be disgraced, a risk she had however taken. “Cause the fame’s on me now. You got me to places I’ve never been.” She thought back to the days where they first met. A DJ-wannabe disappointed from a rejected record label bumping into a frantic cellist on her way to her rehearsals. Octavia pitied Vinyl, and introduced her to the conductor, where Vinyl had her first showcase. After five minutes of ear-splitting DnB music, which forced Octavia to shut her ears, Vinyl was offered a deal of a lifetime: to DJ for Princess Cadenze’s wedding. “And you had me realise, I knew you were treble when you walked in.” Vinyl had been a genius with lyrics too. Treble meant much more than high frequencies in a song. No, Octavia knew what Vinyl had meant; she called Octavia ‘treble’, a play on the word ‘trouble’, and a slur on the ‘t’ that Vinyl sung intentionally, making the word sound like ‘rebel’, because Octavia had always been a ‘treble’, a trouble rebel. During the courtship period, Octavia had always been the one getting themselves in sticky situations, but in the end, the two of them always enjoyed each other’s company. Perhaps ‘treble’ meant ‘high frequencies’, meaning that Octavia was energetic and spontaneous, and brought the fun to the two of them. Fun. That was all that mattered to Vinyl. Yet Octavia prospected on the thought of it. Vinyl loved her music. She enjoyed it. But Octavia, she loved her fame. It wasn’t about music to her anymore. It was the recognition she craved. And she knew about it tonight, albeit a little late. Maybe ‘treble’ did mean ‘high-strung’ as well, as Vinyl knew Octavia had the tendency to spaz a little. Or her cutie mark, although that was quite unlikely. She smiled at her recollection of memories, before continuing the song with volume increased once again. “Cause the fame’s on us now.” She produced a slight chuckle, and proceeded on with the rest of the chorus. “You got us to places we’ve never been.” Her heart skipped a beat; these words were her second favourite lines, her favourites following soon after: the lines where her reasoning could not comprehend the roughness, yet raw power of this few words. She let her heart take over her soul, her brain now clocking double-time as she readied to hone her vocal capabilities. She shut her eyes, and harnessed the muscle at the back of her throat. “Now we’re living bass and treble love. Oh!” Those were… fun times… “Oh!” …eh Vinyl? “Treble, treble love. Oh!” … Vinyl? “Oh!” Sigh… “Treble, treble love.” She ended the song and opened her eyes slowly, the low light seeping into her eyes as she squinted at the figure not too far for her, but far enough for its identity to be vague. Is that... no... it can't be... she wouldn't... she doesn't... apologize Yet she hoped some sort of reconciliation could happen tonight. She continued staring with an incredulous look on her face, a smile forming on top of that, but words escaped her thoughts. Her heartbeat delivered that voltage needed to jumpstart the vehicles inside of her, racing the red track, swerving and covering every vessel and tunnel with full throttled engines. Her eyes opened like flowers in spring, enveloping the radiance that stood, like sunlight to flowers, in full view of the moonlight. She dared not move a step, deciding to hang the suspense a little further. Instead, she thought if Vinyl had been thinking of her. Whether Vinyl had wanted to reconcile as much as she wanted to. Instead, Vinyl spoke first. “Octy! There you are! I have been looking all over for you!” Vinyl galloped over and stopped in front of Octavia. She had been panting and her mane frizzled in the cold night, but the sight of her marefriend warmed her cheeks, a red streak visible. It was there when Octavia noticed not a pair of violet sunglasses, but a pair of bloodshot eyes on the face of her beloved mare, and as much as she wanted, staring into Vinyl’s eyes felt like a black hole devouring all presence of warmth. Accompanying the drained eyes were two lumps of blue and black on her left cheek, and a tiny cut on the bottom of the chin. Seeing the hard work Vinyl had tried to get to her, Octavia could feel nothing but remorse and pity for Vinyl. She then decided to end her series of silence. “Vin… um, before you begin, I’d kinda like to talk to you about-” “So do I actually. Um, Octy… uh… look, I’m really bumped I couldn’t attend your concert tonight. Like, I’ve got a lot of things to do and… um, the amount of projects never seems to end and, um, well… you know what? I’m here now, and… that’s all that matters, right?” Vinyl leaned forward to hug Octavia, but Octavia turned her back against her and looked away, leaving Vinyl in the cold. She stood there in silence as the chilling wind brushed against her mane, the street void of sound once again. No... sorry, whatsoever? “Right?” pleaded the confused Vinyl, with a hint of hurt in his tone. Wrong. “Vinyl Scratch, haven’t you learnt your lesson?” yelled Octavia. “It has always been you, you, you the entire time! When was the last time I heard a ‘good morning’, or a ‘good night’? For Luna’s sake, Vinyl, we’re married! Do you even stop to care about me? All you do is tinker in your basement on that machine of yours. You don’t even have time for me anymore.” Octavia’s words lashed a whip, which Vinyl flinched at the sound of her snap. At an attempt for conciliation, Vinyl had tried to envelope the raging pony with her hoof over the shoulder, but Octavia swiped it away almost immediately. She wasn’t going to accept Vinyl’s apology tonight. Vinyl had used to same tactic on her once before: the DJ had promised a favour, which she did carry out, but no lesson had been learnt from that day. Vinyl would still revert back to her music-obsessed self after a few days, and all Octavia was given had been the cold shoulder. She wasn’t going to take it in anymore, and she was going to explain it to Vinyl the hard way, as the easy way failed. “Octy, please, don’t do this to me! I swear everything will be fine after tonight. I promise! Remember how I told you I’ll bring you to that restaurant to eat? I’ve already booked off all plans on Saturday to go with you! I mean it! You can even order that salad that you always wanted.” “No!” shouted Octavia. “You still don’t get it, do you?! It’s not about the food Vinyl. It’s about the meaning behind all of it. You always leave me hanging-” “No, I don’t! Please, Octavia, listen to me!” protested Vinyl. Octavia lowered her head, closed her eyes, and sighed. She let out deep breaths to calm herself, but she knew she was still shaking inside. How long had she held it in? Maybe if she’d settle it with Vinyl in the early stages of the relationship, maybe all of tonight wouldn’t had happen. Yet again, none of tonight could have happened if Vinyl didn’t ignore her. “I… I just can’t take it anymore, Vinyl, please. I need some to think.” “What?” replied a flabbergasted DJ. “You can’t be serious Octy, come on! I tried so hard, and you’re gonna throw it all away like some old, washed up piece of rag?” “At least a rag is more useful than you,” replied a disheartened Octavia, who had given up all hope of reconciliation. “Oh come on, Octy. I’m sorry! I promise, there won’t be a next time. Please!” Vinyl’s red eyes stared into Octavia’s, hoping for a sincere answer. However, in those fifty shades of grey that Octavia bore, none of them moved to alleviate the tension. They however, did bore the apt feelings one another had, and in chorus, decided to turn Octavia around and drag her away. Octavia’s footsteps came with impendence; the left leg made way for the right, the pair working in unity. No fights, no quarrels. Just love and tolerance. “Octavia! I’m begging you! Please!” Vinyl chased after Octavia, stopping only when Octavia stuck her hoof out, bridging her and Vinyl. She let another depressed sigh out, looked away, and shook her head. With her eyes staring into space, even the brightest of suns couldn’t lift her spirits up. Vinyl then held Octavia’s hoof close to her chest and tugged on it, just like how little foals would plead their mums for favours, but Octavia just let the blue hoof rest against her icy, cold skin. She turned around, and faced Vinyl’s teary face for one last time. “Just… leave, Vinyl. Don’t force me into a decision I might regret later. Please, just… I need some time alone to think. “Please…” Vinyl tugged even harder on Octavia’s hoof, but loss had been a pain long numbed for Octavia. “Come home with me.” “Vinyl…” pleaded Octavia. She was at a loss of words. Her mouth were shut and her heart had malfunctioned to the errors of her epiphany; Vinyl hadn’t want to apologise for her mistakes, but to just carry on living life as if Octavia owed her. Part of it was true, that Octavia’s success rid on DJ-P0N3’s name, and the pair was more than often seen out in public, the cameras wasting no time to snap away. Reluctantly, Vinyl let Octavia’s hoof slip away from her grasp, and stared at her with a heavy heart. Her face was like a river, the episode a dam which broke. “W-will I ever see you again?” asked Vinyl, but Octavia just broke off and walked away, head drooped and hooves lumbering. She paused for a while, staring into the grass, and burrowed the hope she once knew into the ground. Her head turned to face Vinyl for one last time, and her mouth quivered a little. “I… I-I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.” With that, Octavia hurried away, afraid of what Vinyl would do to make her stay any further. Her mind was set as she galloped away from this street, and towards nowhere. She hoped that in time, her memories with Vinyl would be like this stretch of roads: the more you ran away from it, the more you wouldn’t remember living on memory lane. Like the stores at night, she wished for her past to be locked away temporary. Whether or not the sun would rise, would depend on whether she wanted to start remembering again. With her thoughts as her only companion in the lonely night, she couldn’t help but focus all her attentions on it, which made her trip over a pile of boxes she hadn’t notice. The manuscripts inside her music folder were sent flying out, a few fortunate ones landing on the boxes, the rest making its way towards the soft grass. Had it been cruel, but the skies decided to snow on her parade, leaving most of her music sheets wet, and unreadable. She hurried to salvage as many pieces as she could, but as the wind blew stronger, so did the snow fall harder. Her tears were mixed with white powdery snow, as she watched her hard work all crumple at nature’s will. Soon, the boxes, which had been empty, flew away, sending more music sheets to the cushioned snow. But as she tried to pick them up, the cruel wind came and blew most sheets away, leaving a ventilating Octavia and a couple of manuscripts alone in the blanket of snow. Defeated, Octavia slumped onto the cold, unforgiving floor and sobbed. Her life had blown itself up in just mere minutes; first Vinyl, then the music. These were the two things most important in her life, and in one night, she had single-handily massacred her two love. “Come on Octavia. You’re on your own now. There isn’t anyone you live for, except yourself,” thought Octavia, trying to cheer herself up with her undying spirit. She looked down, and wondered about the future, which looked solemn as the white snow looking forward to pollution. She wiped away her tears and stood up, opening up the folder to see the contents that she had managed to salvage. Inside it contained five of her old string pieces and two of her dubstep remixes, as well as the tiny pebble she had sheltered against this harsh weather, which she took out, and threw it against the snow. She packed the remaining survivors inside her folder, gripped it tight in between her hooves, and walked down the road. Where it led, she didn’t care, as long as it was away from her old home. She thought of starting a new life, away from Ponyville, and maybe back to Canterlot, just to avoid Vinyl for the time being. But tonight, all she wanted was a fate without a pebble to throw. She inched her eyes, and spotted an inn, still lit, and decided to spend the night there. It was a stone’s throw away, and she could afford it, albeit the risk of filthy rooms. As she walked with head up high, she approached the inn, and knocked on the door. After a voice inviting her in, she turned her head around, and stared at the horizon. Part of her wanted Vinyl back, and part of her wanted her old life back. Whether or not her old life wanted Vinyl in it, Octavia hadn’t quite figured it out. Had she missed the days of solitude, or the days of aptitude? “Come in , you’re gonna catch a cold in this weather,” said the innkeeper, but Octavia kept staring, hoping for a miracle to bestow upon her. As the clock ticked, the snow got thicker, but her hope got thinner. “Vinyl, are you here yet?” Octavia thought out loud, reminding her of her stage experiences. “I guess not…” She gave the pitiful moon one last look, before she stepped hoof into the inn, shutting the door, as well as her old life, behind her. The pebble she had thrown laid still on the ground, dormant, until another pony would pick it up. With any luck, Octavia would.