//------------------------------// // Chills of the Winter Night // Story: Regret // by IceQB //------------------------------// Octavia chugged a pint of beer down her tired throat. "Another one, please," moaned Octavia. Hesitantly, the innkeeper handled another mug to her, and wiped the spilled-over contents Octavia had left off the counter-top. How much beer had she drank? She glanced over slightly to her left, revealing the clunky tower of mini-barrels she had taken in over the course of the night. There was at least five, stacked ceremoniously on top of one another. The leftover beer dripped from the tower, like her mood had tonight. “Hey, that’s a lot of beer you’ve drank tonight. You sure you gonna be alright?” asked the irked innkeeper. “Yeah.” It was all Octavia muttered before she downed another mug. With a smack on her lips, she placed the newly-finished mug down with a thud, and wiped the foam off, and yet, she hadn’t been satisfied. She was about to motion for another one when she felt a wave of nausea rush over her. She paused, and eyed the rotating fans twirling in the ceilings. The more she stared at it, the dizzier she got, and she decided it wasn’t a good idea to look up. She looked back down at the beer-laden floor, but the more she looked at it, the more she felt the beer travelling back up her throat. She tried to stand up, which sent her tumbling over the chairs in her vicinity. The other ponies glared at her, and murmurs rose in the crowd. Leaning on one of the only upright stool left standing after her mayhem, she glanced around the room, hoping for some sort of escape in her epiphany. She scanned the inn, and spotted an archway on the other side of the inn. The signs hanging aloof from the ceiling, which her intoxicated brain tried to decipher, told her the toilet was just right down it, and without hesitation, she half-limped, half-ran across the inn. It was like she had a moment of realisation, without the actualization. As she made her way towards the hallway, she bumped into a couple of stallions who had their hooves over their marefriend, causing temporal confusion among the couple. She had apologised to them, but she wasn’t going to remember any of the faces. After all, what was ‘sorry’ going to do to help salvage any situation? She had realised ‘sorry’ had been an anaesthetic for the fact that errors had been made, and that the conflict would resolve, but the underlying root problem would remain. At least her issue with Vinyl’s behaviour hadn’t been too hard to uproot. All she needed to do was to walk away from all of it. It was easy, and yet, Octavia felt the pain a hundred times worse than foalbirth, not that she could experience it with Vinyl anyways. She searched inside her heart if she had done the right thing, but all her woozy brain could manage were the cylindrical liquid-holding tanks, filled with raw painkillers she had consumed. It sedated her mind, although brief, she knew it would help her get over tonight. As she made her way down the hall, the burning sensation in her stomach left a bomb ticking inside, and she could feel it counting down. The explosion would mean regurgitation, and she needed to behave herself if she wanted to spend the night here. She doubled her pace, but on wobbles, she tripped over nothing, and landed face first on the tiled floors, inciting a couple of giggles and laughter from behind her. She stood up once again, and sprinted past a couple of doors, where she spotted the little cubicle. Her problems would all soon be over behind those doors, and once she got into her little haven, she slammed the door shut, locking herself away until her stupor state had ebbed. She slumped back on her swirly chair, and spun around, gazing at the wires that treaded along the edges of the room. Her turntable spun in front of her, and the monitor behind it had been waiting all night to be played. Behind her laid a sofa and a coffee table, where half-full, or half-empty, cups and half-eaten sandwiches laid in arrest. Guitars hung along the melancholy walls that sometimes drowned in pity at the sight of dust, the guitars often untouched. After all, the guitars were Octavia’s and she hadn’t picked one up in a while, but as of now, she wouldn’t be picking up any more of these guitars. Couple of strings had already broke off due to the tension pulling against it, making most guitars unplayable, but as Vinyl scanned the remains of her prized pony’s possession, a classical 8-string guitar laid still, the strings, however rusty, had remained intact. Behind the red eyes had laid a hue of blue. Yet in rage, stillness had embodied her, sadness consuming joy however. She hadn’t known what to do about tonight’s incident. Octavia wanted some time alone, but Vinyl didn’t just get it. She always had time alone to think about stuff, Octavia that is, but it seemed like matters Vinyl didn’t understand had engulfed her marefriend with thoughts of hurt and grief. She grabbed her headphones, which sat mischievously in between her legs, and held it to her face. She thought about the evening spent mixing with Neon Lights, and remembered about the tunes that they had come up with. It would have been her next single, but Octavia’s abrupt phone call had postponed it. She donned it, the cups comfortably sitting on her ears, and hit the play button on her mixer. Thump, the beat went as Vinyl listened to it, her posture now sprung upright. Her mind slowed down as the music took over her, the invigorating music refreshing her innate ability to think. There must be something I can do to win her back. After all, I doubt she really hates me… With the music blaring in her ears, she sat there, the double time beat kicking in, but her contented smile changed into a concrete frown, the anaesthetic effect of the music slowly draining away. She noticed the stray halved pebble that she had picked up in the alley, and cupped it in her hooves. Without a warning, she flung it towards the heart of Octavia’s eight-stringed guitar, the pebble spiralling into the gaping hole in the centre where the breath of music would sound out from. It hit the backboard, causing a loud thud, puncturing the wooden chamber, and as the pebble hit rock bottom of the encasing, all eight strings broke with an obnoxious snap. Great… now I’ll have to explain to Octy why her strings broke. That’s a minus one for me attempting to bring her back home. Minus one. The truncated notes in her head started a chorus, the DJ now playing a symphony in her mind. As her thoughts wandered to the world of bars and ledges, her hooves started to grab any spare pen and paper lying around her, and she immediately penned down what would be her next single. It was going to be meant for the other half of the pebble. Whether or not the other rock head would listen to another rock head would boil down to the winds of fate. Octavia burst out of the tiny cubicle, stumbling out onto the once pure white tiled floors, now a shade darker that Octavia easily recognized from nowhere. Her shadow cast in front, probing her affluent brain to reason with her wild behaviour tonight. “Who am I not to blame for her own selfishness?” thought Octavia out loud. “She is nothing but the icing on the cake. The filling itself, the cake, it can only come from within. No more will I stand for her encumbrance in my walk in fame. Today, I will walk alone!” She took another few steps, before she bumped into the innkeeper, who hadn’t been too pleased with her ruckus. She paused and without batting an eyelid, laid a hoof onto his body. “Innkeeper!” grumbled Octavia. “I demand a room this instance! A Canterlot mare shall not be subjected to the streets of Ponyville. It’s far too filthy!” Octavia could care less about what others would think of her behaviour. All she wanted was a bed to rest upon, a shoulder to lean upon, a Vinyl to- Vinyl… your warm body would be nice now. Just like that one time. The honeymoon. Foalrida. Those were good times. I still remembered the warm beaches, the cooling drinks, the… fun we had in our room. On our bed. That was great. I hadn’t forgotten what you said to me. “I won’t ever leave you.” I believed you. I trusted you. Then came the tour at Manehattan. You brought me along. We toured in the day, and partied at night. The times I would get so drunk you had to drag me back to the hotel. Just like… now… I need you to drag me back home. Back to you. Back to your warm touch. And who could ever forget Princess Cadence’s wedding. You gave me a shout out, and I blushed the reddest I had ever blushed before. I felt happy. Then you wrapped me around your hooves and did a slow dance with me. That was the most memorable day of my life. You asked if I loved you, and I couldn’t deny it. Those hot, fiery eyes you had. All a façade. DJ P0N-3’s true self lies within the shades. The peace you want. It was all in your grabs. The thoughts of Vinyl caused her to zone out, causing her to stick her tongue out at the innkeeper, who viewed her as a retard at this point. “I know I should be nice, but this is far too ridiculous! What kind of mare just makes a mess and leaves it behind?” The innkeeper points at a couple of ponies cleaning up what looked like an avalanched stacks of beer lying on the floor. “I have had lots of complaints about you, and I’m sorry, but I can’t let you stay. It will ruin my business. You’ll have to find some other place to stay for the night.” The innkeeper’s words hit her like a truck on a freeway, causing her inebriated mind to wake up. Somehow, his words had caused her head to clink together, the different pieces of reality lodging into bits and pieces of crevices in her jigsaw puzzle. She shook her head, took a deep breath and remembered what she had done- being drunk, rude and sloppy- and nearly slapped herself for her uncouthness. Vinyl would have been very disappointed. “No, no, you’re right. I just can’t just leave a mess hanging around.” She glanced past the angry innkeeper to the sheet of white outside the tinted windows. “I’ll be on my way now. Thank you for your hospitality… and for knocking some sense into my head.” Octavia walked past him and headed towards the main doors, her body embracing the cold wind and harsh weather that she was about to face. “Uh, no problem? That was easy.” Octavia’s words stumbled him like songs with uncanny time signatures, but a smirk grew large on his face, murmuring something on the lines of ‘damn musicians’. After Octavia grabbed her folder, she waltzed out of her temporary haven, and danced in the heart of stormy seas. What awaited her was simple, yet the cellist had not dared to do: to quell the storm in the eye. All this time, I had been blinded by love. Not Vinyl, but my own. I loved myself too much to see myself harming her. And when she did, who could I blame but her? Yet I didn’t see the truth. Her pain, her suffering, it would escalate ten times for me. But what of her? Wouldn’t she bear the pain ten times more than what I would feel? Her love was genuine like a stockbroker’s heart in the exchange, but in the up-and-down game of our love, hadn’t we all been losing? Octavia quickened her pace, bending street corners and racing down avenues like music notes on a page. Her footsteps wrote her melodies, as she knew each stomp on the ground meant one step closer to her happy ending, her resolution. Yet, if butterflies could further metamorphose, the throbs in her stomach would actually measure on the Richter scale. In a mere ten minutes, a panting Octavia arrived at the footsteps of her house, and attempted to reach for her keys in her folder, which ceased to exist at that time. “Don’t tell me… Buck.” Octavia felt the need to use such a coarse word with her blunder, something that happened one time too many. She searched around the folder, but to no avail. Her key to her home was like her key to Vinyl’s heart; it had probably been lost somewhere in the cold and dark streets. She fumbled around, trying to search around for her missing keys, but all she was returned were the blank stares of the snow, mocking and laughing at her epitome of failure. Great. I’m locked outside my own home. Think Octavia, think. Any windows you left open before you headed to you performance? She circled the house a few times, but the windows had all been shut. How about the basement? I’m sure Vinyl’s down there…” She went down the stairs leading towards the basement and attempted to unlatch the door, but it was locked shut. You’re usually not this careless. What has gotten into you, Octavia? As Octavia went back up the stairs, she stared at the white wooden door that separated possible warmth from definite cold. At least inside, she stood a chance to stay. Right now, Octavia could do nothing but stay calm, yet knowing that her keys are probably long buried in the snow hadn’t been the best piece of news that night. She counted in her head that amount of gloomy events she had gone through in just one night. One, when Vinyl hadn’t showed up for her concert. Two, when she and Vinyl fought. Three, when she lost most of her music in the snow and wind. Four, when she got locked outside of her own home. Things couldn’t get any worse, right? she thought positively, trying to salvage the ruins of her life. She had been a sucker to curse herself; as soon as thought of that, a branch hovering above her gave way, dropping a load of snow onto her. She moaned and shook the snow off her rigid body, and cursed the heavenly beings above for mistreatment. Yet, as the stars kept her entertained, all she realised she could do was to accept her ill-fated night. Feeling defeated by the world around her, she slumped right in front of her door, ignoring the icy cushion underneath her, then mentally added ‘avalanched by snow’ to her list of bad luck. At first, her body could tolerate the cold, but as the sun shifted the warmth further and further away, so did her flank. Her body started shivering and her hooves started numbing away to the winter night. The disdained snow was one, her distraught self was another, both being factors that could destroy her body and her mind, one probably sooner than the other. She laid still, and as the snow drifted onto her pale skin, she wondered if she would die by her doorsteps, if anyone would miss her, if Vinyl would miss her. Despite all the hardship, Octavia managed to produce a chuckle, second guessing the fact she might actually die in front of her haven. Now isn’t this ironic? Death by my own hooves. By the monster I’ve created within and of. As her motionless body ceased any will to move, so did her brain. She leaned against the door, her drunken stupor slowly regaining its strength with the numbing wind raging against her grey coat, and then looked down. Octavia could have sworn a shade of blue started forming on the tip of her hooves, and as she stared at it, the pale blue slowly crawled up like a thermometer dipped in hot water. Yet her body temperature failed to record frostbite as a sign of imminent danger, and she just continued watching it turn magically from blue to white. Octavia closed her eyes, and somehow felt a sign of relief. This had been ironically a good time to relax, which Octavia hadn’t had the chance to spring upon once her name had been constantly in the spotlight with Vinyl. Be it tabloids, or newspapers, their names spread far and wide throughout Equestria. As she opened her eyes and stared at the luminescent skies above, she thought of her life before Vinyl, before courtship; she was just an ordinary cellist, hoping to attain stardom- secretly, of course. Having grown from quite a well-off family that insisted her formalities and behaviour be kept in tip-top condition, she had kept her emotions quite well-reserved, allowing only the slightest of emotions to penetrate through her pores. She hadn’t been emotionless, of course. She thought about the happy times when she had been single- the times where she would just practice music all day, much for the love and nothing more. The way the strings resonated all sorts of cantankerous and gratifying feelings she had for her songs, and the way the conductor would praise her for her excellent technique and finesse. She felt self-accomplished, and felt no greater love for her music. That was until Vinyl showed up in her life. She hadn’t thought of mares that way before, and yet the wild side Vinyl presented intrigued her. Slowly, she got to know the ‘hyper’ mare that constantly raved about her beat, and too, got sucked into her vortex of excitement. As the amount of time spent with Vinyl increased, so had her boldness level, to the point she broke and narrowly escaped the laws a couple of time. She still remembered her first escape, being on the run with Vinyl for trespassing unsanctioned grounds, where she had convinced a reluctant DJ to take a ‘shortcut’. If it weren’t for Vinyl’s magic, the both of them would have seen the last of their careers. After all, no pony would hire a convict to bring entertainment; it would attract the wrong crowd. Or no crowd, rather. Of course, she still remembered the lecture Vinyl had given her, which accused her of being foolishly reckless. But Octavia cherished the bond she shared with her best friend turned life partner, and so did Vinyl. She knew she was doing this all to impress Vinyl, which seemed to work. "Huh, I wonder what Vinyl sees in me…" As the night aged, a bluish-grey mare rested under a blanket of white. Vinyl had trouble coming up with the lyrics to her next single. As the pen doodled away on pieces of papers, circle and crosses filled from border to border. Lyrics were cancelled out, re-written on top of it, before being re-cancelled out once again, only for Vinyl to find that the entire sentence didn’t fit the beat. Frustrated, she threw her hooves, and her pen, up in the air, swivelling her chair around as she grunted hopelessly. She stared at her room briefly, her eyes wandering around the corners, before settling onto a picture frame by the bedside drawer. It had been a shiny gold, dust now covering on top of it, and had a quarter note on the top right of the frame. Vinyl stood up, and lifted the picture frame onto her tired hooves. Behind the glass laid two pair of youthful eyes that Vinyl once knew, yet he couldn’t recognise that same glimmer in neither of them now. In hers, lacked the spark and fire that contributed to her wild side, the blazing spirit in her now quenched to a mere kindle. In the other, lacked the stillness and composure that invited peace, the rational beliefs in Octavia now turned awry. Octavia had turned into a loose cannon, but that was not why Vinyl had fallen for her. Rather, Vinyl had learnt to appreciate the little things in life that Octavia would had been proud of- her little accomplishments, like learning to ride a bicycle, something Vinyl had failed to even try in her childhood. She liked how Octavia could be so calm and rational even when faced with difficult situations. Heck, Vinyl dastardly hungered for Octavia’s level-headedness, and yet as more time was spent with her, the less Vinyl saw of that side. There were the rare occurrences she would act insane, going about doing whatever she wants, but she knew the Octavia she yearned for was still deep inside. Vinyl had toned herself down in order to capture that side once again, but to no avail. With each passing day, her hunger for trouble increased, which led to Vinyl’s muse for her fiftieth single, ‘I Knew You Were Treble’. To escape her crazy antics, Vinyl had to move to the basement just so she could work on her songs in peace. But her own peace had been constantly interrupted by countless demands to attend to Octavia’s request. At first, Vinyl would gladly go, but as things started to shape up for Octavia’s solo career, so did her attitude, to the point that Vinyl had subconsciously forgotten about Octavia’s concerts, which had led to the fight that just happened. Vinyl blew the dust off the golden frame, which resulted in a sneeze. She rubbed her nose, then placed the frame back down. She regretted not spending more personal time and less fame time with her, but still loved her equally as much, no matter how much the both of them had changed over the years. Sadly, the damage had been done. She knew ignoring Octavia had resulted into this, and had resented how selfish she had been, secretly wanting to fulfil her personal desires over hers. All Octavia wanted was someone to rely on, to depend on, but Vinyl ignored this fact, until this very night. Vinyl went back to her workspace, and without much of a thought, trashed the newly written lyrics, sending a possible hit down the baskets of no return. She then grabbed her headphones, and too, banished it from her life, accompanying the once lone lyrics that cried to be saved and reused. Like her new trash, she powered everything off, and flicked the light switch off. This room would have been part of Vinyl’s life, until now. Like a sealed chamber in a maze with no return, no undo, she locked this part of her life away, the key now thrown away into the pits of Tartarus. Only would salvation offer to one who would offer sacrifice, and Vinyl needed redemption as much as she wanted peace. With one last glance, she closed the door, promising herself that she would never step foot in music ever again, and headed upstairs, to the room she once slept in. All she needed to do now was to send a letter to the local press, revealing to the world that DJ P0N-3 was indefinitely going into retirement. But first, she had one more dedication, one more party she had to throw. That one last one that would decide it all. Octavia, where… where are you? Please… come back… “No! You’re not going to do this to me Octy! You’re not leaving me!” A heavy weight bore on Vinyl’s shoulder as she pushed on in the unforgiving snow, trudging an unconscious Octavia on her back. Where Vinyl had left a trail stood grim dark, and where his path forward returned absolute fear. “Why?! Why are you so foolish? Why didn’t you knock?! And why did you drink so much? You know you can’t drink too much with your weak liver! Argh!” ranted Vinyl to the wall of grey. “Stupid, stupid! I should have known earlier that you were outside! Argh!” With tears forming by the edge of her sockets, Vinyl held steadfast to Octavia, and ran towards Ponyville Hospital. However hard Vinyl tried to tread in this night, Octavia’s weight would eventually cause her body to give way to the sheer ache. It was a matter of time, but Vinyl had left the delusion of time behind her; it was to be her enemy and friend in the next coming hours. “I swear Octy, if you leave me, I’ll… I’ll…” Vinyl’s tears dripped in the snow, her sweat now profusely dripping despite the cold weather. “I’m not ready Octy. Don’t do this to me!” The moon shone bright, seeming warm but harbouring only the gloominess of the night. The bright stars offered no condolence to Vinyl’s plight, but they flickered anyways. Like hope, they had always flickered. “Doctor! Nurse! Some pony, any pony. Help! Help!” Vinyl yelled down the quiet hallways, waking up a few ponies in white who had taken a nap unknowingly. At the sight of the two mares, they jumped up instantaneously, and rushed towards different directions. Then, in mere seconds, they came back with a stretcher, an IV stand and a couple of wires, and without missing or dropping a beat, tied Octavia on the stretcher, securing her tightly with the straps. “Okay, let’s go,” one of the orderlies spoke as they wheeled her towards the emergency room, leaving a panicking Vinyl with a nurse in accompaniment. She paid no heed to the nurse, frantically pacing around the white hospital tiles as the red light turned on. “Come on, please be okay. Please!” shouted a mad Vinyl, at particularly no pony, seeming like she just wanted to rant her frustration out. She stared at the two swivelling doors in front of her, and shut her eyes. “Please…” Vinyl’s voice had been reduced to a mere whisper now, her heart feeling heavy as she drooped her head over her hooves, fretting at the possibilities that would happen when the light turned off. “No, this can’t be… No… Octavia…” Vinyl slumped back against the wall and slid down, then covered her face in her hooves, using her raised knees as a blockade from the outside world. Usually, she would don her shades, but they were snatched and thrown away by that burly guard. She thought about her shades, and remembered why she insisted on wearing them. No pony needed them at night, for it would seem ridiculous, but Vinyl would wear them anyways. Not for sight, or fashion if anything, but for hiding what she didn’t want others to see. In the past, it was for her meek self inside of her. For now, it was for the messy tears. The nurse stood beside Vinyl and simply stared past the torn unicorn. But Vinyl had refused to bulge, choosing to remain in that position. She shivered, not because of cold weather, but cold feet. Tiny sobs echoed throughout the hallways, and the only accompaniment had been the sound of rotating fans above her, but this quietness wasn’t what Vinyl wanted. The nurse let a deep breath out, with it a small frown, and tried to put a hoof on Vinyl’s shoulders to pacify her, but all she got was hostility. “No! Go away!” Vinyl flicked her hooves at the nurse, who complied with her request and walked away, leaving a lone DJ by the doors. The tears had drained all emotion and energy from its host, and no sooner did Vinyl find herself feeling rather sleepy, yet Vinyl refused to succumb to the pressures of sleep. I can’t sleep now… Octavia’s in there! Her mind tried to keep herself awake, but with so much that had happened, the night pony hadn’t had much energy in reserve. She fought the temptations to close her eyelids, but with each growing minute, the evil forces of Sandpony sprayed their magic dust onto her eyes, causing them to grow heavier. After a long fight, Vinyl felt no need to open her eyelids anymore, for any resistance met had been completely futile, and the eradication of unwanted waste in her body had begun. Vinyl woke up, and she could have sworn someone touched her, or moved her rather. She found herself on a bed rather than the hospital floors, and noticed not only the faces of Octavia, but hers around the room. Her eyes shot wide open, head pivoting eyes swivelling, as she tried to reason as to why she was back in her sleeping quarters. In Octavia’s and hers. “What the… buck?” Vinyl swore out loud, jumping out of the covers of the blanket, searching the room for any signs or clues as to why this happened. Everything seemed in place though- the desolate room bore nothing but a mahogany bed, cupboard and dressing table- but some things had been missing. “Huh? I’m back home? But… if this is our room, then… where are Octavia’s instruments? This… this doesn’t make sense at all!” Her eyes flashed, and for once, she stood in grace of Princess Luna. Vinyl customarily bowed at her, only to stop with a hoof forward. “Don’t bow down to me, Vinyl Scratch. The dreamscape is my domain, and I shall not resort to the methods of my sister. Rise,” spoke Luna. “P-Princess Luna… I-“ “No need to fear me. I am not who I once was, although I see the resemblance in your eyes.” “Wait.” In a spur of the moment, Vinyl touched her forehead where her shades often rested when un-used, and sure enough, the purple-tinted glasses were there. Eagerly, she put it on, but the moment she did, she shrieked in terror and tossed them aside, then swore and cursed at nothing as if there were a ghost there. “What did you see there my child? What have your glasses shown you?” “I s-saw you as Nightmare Moon… and I totally didn’t freak out just now,” said Vinyl in attempt to keep her cool. “I’m afraid that was no illusion.” Princess Luna shook her head. “You only saw what you needed to see. Nightmare Moon didn’t need to surreal, but it had appeared in front of you. Is there something of the nature you’ve committed yourself to? Some jealousy perhaps?” “I… I… It’s true. I’m jealous of Octavia. She found the perfect balance in her life until now. She had the perfect career, had the perfect life, but I had just been the flawed stake in her heart.” “No pony’s perfect, for perfection amounts to greater imperfection. And no stake can be planted firmly on the ground, for the soil it’s planted on will cave in and cause the stake to fall on its own,” spoke Luna in parables. “But why is it that she’s on her deathbed, and I can do nothing about it? Why?! Tell me!” shouted Vinyl. “There is not nothing, but something you can do. Reach for the key to her heart. Play the instrument you solely desire to give her the life you want, and she will play melodies that will last you a lifetime.” “Argh! Why do you have to speak like this? Just tell me what I have to do!” “Very well, I shall help you see the ways of your life.” Luna materialized a key, and gave it to Vinyl. “Over at her cupboard, you shall open the doors, like you have done so in her life. But what she stores in her cupboard takes a great commitment to retrieve, and only one instrument can save both you and Octavia.” Vinyl immediately hurried to open the cupboard, revealing at least ten instruments inside. “Take it out, and play to your heart’s desire.” “So, which one is it?” asked Vinyl. “May Celestia be with you,” said Luna ominously, and with that, she faded to the world, leaving a dumbfounded Vinyl with a cupboard of instruments. “No, wait! Don’t go!” But it had been too late, Vinyl was all alone again. Utterly confused, Vinyl turned to the rack of instruments in the cupboard and deliberated about which instrument was the one Luna had been talking about. “Ah ha! It must be the cello!” The cello towered over the other instruments, taking nearly half the cupboard. Vinyl tried pulling it out from its rack, but it wouldn’t budge. “Hmm, perhaps it’s the guitar! She loves to play it sometimes.” In the same fashion, she tried pulling it out, but to no avail. “No? Hmm… how about the lyre?” Likewise, her attempts had been futile, yet Vinyl kept yanking instruments out. She had repeatedly tried to remove the humungous cello, but as time, if dreamscape had anything existence of it, counted down, so did Vinyl’s patience. She pulled nearly all the instruments out, but left the 78 keys of black and white resting in the bottom left corner of the cupboard until the very end. Vinyl had thought that maybe that was the last thing that Octavia would be interested in, but if she recalled correctly, Luna said that only one instrument would undo the damage. The DJ stared at the synthesiser lookalike, but hadn’t had the thoughts to pull it out, partially due to fear, and partially due to confusion. “Why the keyboard?” she hesitated. “It’s nothing like what she is. It’s so… violent, jarring, and the keys make a fool of itself with its clunky appearance. The sounds they make aren’t beautiful, aren’t sophisticated. It’s basically a low-tiered instrument. How can something so ugly be paired with someone so beautiful?” At that moment, Vinyl realised something. It hadn’t been the instruments that Octavia would play to satisfy her. It wasn’t about writing songs, composing melodies and arranging orchestral versions of Vinyl’s song. It was something far greater then that. Something that money couldn’t buy, fame couldn’t attain, and power couldn’t manipulate. As of that insight, Vinyl grabbed her fallen shades and donned them once again, her eyes now hidden in sight from the cupboard. The instruments themselves had cloaked away mysteriously, leaving a bare wooden cupboard in full audience of Vinyl. “I get it now… these aren’t the instruments Princess Luna was talking about. It’s… it’s-.” A bright white light shot out Vinyl’s glasses, shattering it and causing Vinyl to tumble over. She glanced around as the walls started to melt like iced desserts and the wooden furniture dissolve into a pool of bright green. The ceilings cracked and the floors crumbled, but Vinyl had dashed around looking for the bedroom door, which had suddenly been missing. “It’s time to wake up now.” A cheerful voice called out loud. “But I can’t! I… I-I don’t know how!” “Wakey wakey, DJ P0N-3!” “Huh? Pinkie Pie? What in the world?” Vinyl eyes shot opened to the familiar white walls and Pinkie Pie, head tilted, eyes beaming, smile encasing, staring at her. “Oh goody!” said Pinkie Pie gleefully. “You’re finally awake! Now you’re not going to miss my super awesome, super spectacular party that I’m going to throw. Oh it’s going to be so much fun! There’s balloons, candies, cakes and oh, my favorites, cupcakes!” Pinkie licked her lips. “Mmm, cupcakes!” Vinyl scratched her head and stared at her pink reality, still wondering if this was part of her dream. “Pinkie Pie! Whaaat... what are you doing here?” “You silly filly, don’t you remember? I’m throwing a party for-.” And that was all Vinyl wanted to hear out of this helium-filled balloon of euphoria. Parties were the last thing she wanted to hear about now. She recollected her dream, knowing now what Octavia desired, yet Vinyl declined to a mere whisper as she said, “Love. The instrument of love.” Such strong words, yet the timidity of Vinyl carried it and hid in in her heart, not knowing how to apply such an act. “- and that’s why you were invited!” Pinkie Pie stuck a hoof out, offering to pick the still-grounded Vinyl, but Vinyl just smiled and shook her head. “Not today, Pinkie Pie. I… I gotta stay here for a while,” said Vinyl calmly, looking at the red light which was still on. She pushed herself off the ground, then wiped the drool stains off the side of her lips and swiped the dirt off her hooves. “Aww, not even for one hour? One minute? One second?” pouted Pinkie Pie, which made Vinyl chuckle a little. Pinkie had always known how to do that, and the godly element she possessed was merely an understatement to her true powers. “Nah man. You go ahead and have fun. I’ll just…” Vinyl scratched her head and stretched her arms, causing her to produce a yawn. “I’ll just stay here.” “Oki doki loki! The party is at room 302, just in case you forgot! Ok, time to go! I don’t want to be late for the party that starts in an hour!” Pinkie disregarded the actual term for punctuality and zipped off, leaving Vinyl staring at the red light. As soon as Pinkie Pie was gone, Vinyl’s mood went straight back down as she thought of the impending fate. “Please Luna. Please be right,” said Vinyl as she slumped back down onto the floor, legs stretched and hooves tapping incessantly at the floor. She couldn’t lift her eyes off the red button; the moment it turned off, she knew she would rush in there immediately. But as she waited for the light to diminish, so did her patience. Her nervous wreck had caused her mane to frizzle, and her eyes to turn dark. Minutes turned to hours, and Vinyl was still staring at the red light. Her stomach growled, but she didn’t care. All she cared for was the unconscious grey pony behind the two white doors. Then, at the corner of her eye, she saw a nurse walking towards the two doors. Immediately, she sprung up, and bolted towards the nurse. “Why is it taking so damn long? I… I want to see her. Now!” Vinyl tried to brush past the nurse, but got stopped with a hoof extending out, blocking the door. The nurse shook her head and stared at Vinyl with intent eyes, silently asking Vinyl to step away from the doors. “Hey! C’mon, my friend’s in there, so let me in!” yelled Vinyl, forcing the nurse to grunt angrily at her. “Keep your volume down! This is a hospital. And no, you may not go in! You can only go in when the red light turns off.” It was backstage all over again. Distraught, she panicked and jabbed the nurse, causing her to tumble slightly. The nurse regained her balance instinctively, and her eyes emitted fear. “I… I can’t wait any longer! I want to go in now! I need to be in there now! I-I-I gotta see here!” She tried to storm past the nurse, but she stood steadfast, blocking the doors with her body now. “S-s-sorry, I can’t allow it,” said the trembling nurse, who kept a façade of composure. “P-please, just wait it out here!” Vinyl, who grew irked at her request to just ‘wait it out here’, clenched her hooves and gritted her teeth. She lifted a hoof, ready to send a punch down the poor nurse’s throat, causing the nurse to gasp and flinch, but then, she reflected the situation and remembered the night before, and deliberated her actions. She stared at the nurse, who Vinyl knew those eyes were of harmless intentions, and with much consideration, dropped her hooves. She sighed and looked away, and breaths were taken to calm herself down, but the fact that she had to wait it out didn’t help. Rejected, Vinyl walked away from the two doors, and went back to her old spot. She leaned her forehead against the wall, and placed a hoof on it for stability. “Just… just go do whatever you have to do,” motioned Vinyl absent-mindedly to the nurse, who stopped shivering and hurried past the white doors. For once again, Vinyl had been left alone, something that she still hadn’t grown used to ever since Octavia stepped into her life. She closed her eyes and reminisced of her past. Her life before Octavia had been generous. Every stallion would find means and ways to approach DJ P0N-3, but Vinyl had always broken up with them after a short while. It wasn’t that she wasn’t into stallions; it was just how materialistic they all seemed to be. It had always been the musicians too, Vinyl realised, that wanted her attention. High school had been an interesting time for her; it was a time where she experimented with techno, and with different stallions of different music genres. She subtly found out that she enjoyed more of the company of the quiet pianist, such as Most Zart, and violinist, Joe Suabel, who hadn’t tried to hit on her, rather than the outgoing, loud guitarist, Jimie Drix, and lead singer, Just Beeb, who desperately wanted a chance with her. After all, who wouldn’t want to know such a cool pony? She graduated, but adulthood had been tough for her. Having found no stable job in the music industry, she wandered from bars to bars, often performing little stints for them just to survive. That all changed when she met Octavia, who introduced some big-shot to her. Vinyl didn’t care who it was. All she cared for was that Octavia had gotten her a prospect. That was where feelings erupted for her then best friend, and the rest, was history- a memorable one. Beep. And the red light was switched off.