Octavia breathed deep, letting out a sigh and glancing at herself in the mirror, adjusting her bowtie for the umpteenth time that night. Everything had to be perfect. She couldn't blow it. Her appearance was fine, but her nerves were shot. She didn't know if she could do this. They were agents out there! Agents! And now, here she was, supposed to perform Beethoofen's Moonlight Sonata flawlessly?
"Madame Philharmonica?" a tall thin pegasus mare questioned, glancing at the nervous cellist. "I realize this might not help, but you're on in two minutes."
Octavia nodded simply and swallowed. This was it. Her moment to shine, and hopefully make it. She could do this, couldn't she? She had known this piece since she was a filly, it was the first melody she had ever mastered. Why, she could play it backwards if she tried! ...But then again, stage fright was a sneaky little devil.
"And now, ladies and gentlecolts, our final performance of the night, may I present the young and wonderfully talented Miss Octavia Philharmonica..."
The announcer's words rang throughout the earth pony's head like a mantra - young. Wonderfully talented. Final performance.
'Oh, as if the pressure wasn't enough.' she thought bitterly.
Everypony had set through those other magnificent performances, and now, she was supposed to top those? She would probably have a better chance of sprouting wings right now and flying out the nearby window.
...But nonetheless, on shaky hooves, Octavia went onstage, looking through the entire crowd and now, she could barely stand up to play her cello as she saw multiple gazes completely locked on her and only her.
And yet, in the back row, waving her hooves like a mad mare, with a million dollar smile plastered on her expression, sporting her typical ruffian look, was none other than the one and only pony that could lift Octavia's spirits right now.
'Thank you for coming this concert, Vinyl.' she said to herself, as a small grin formed and in that moment, the beautiful melody wove from the cello strings and enraptured each and everypony in the hall.
It didn't matter if Octavia got that record deal now. Not if it meant each and every concert had that insane disk jockey in the crowd.