//------------------------------// // The Morning // Story: Syncopation // by Terrasora //------------------------------// Octavia Philharmonica stared at the ceiling. Admittedly, there was nothing particularly interesting about this ceiling, but Octavia could not think of anything better to do at the moment. She could, of course, have gotten out of bed, but that action was not very appealing at the moment. And it did not help that her bed had gained the ability to magnetically bind ponies named Octavia Philharmonica to itself. Not that Octavia was complaining; it was a rather comfortable bed. But the musician was currently employed. Which meant that she would be able to pay bills and  food, but also meant that she would, at some point, have to leave her bed. Octavia silently cursed every job throughout Equestria as she forced herself to her hooves. Mornings. I don’t think I like mornings. I never had a problem with them as a student, but I am now quite sure that Discord himself invented mornings. Yes, Parasprites and mornings: Discord’s agents of Chaos. The grey mare trudged slowly to the kitchen, feeling especially sluggish. Or it may be the idiotic amount of sugar I consumed last night, she thought, filling a glass with water. It’s worse than a hangover. Octavia returned to her bedroom, sitting heavily on her bed. She glanced at her nightstand, a small paper bag catching her attention. The cellist smiled softly. Maybe mornings aren’t all that bad. The smile wavered slightly. Vinyl. Oh dear, what am I supposed to do about Vinyl? I should apologize. But what if she’s still annoyed and this whole mess doesn’t clear over? Stubborn mare. Octavia wasn’t sure whether she was referring to herself or Vinyl. The cellist sighed, glancing at a nearby clock and downing the rest of her water. Well, no need to brood on that. I have just enough time to shower and eat before heading out. I’ll deal with Vinyl when I see her. You’re procrastinating, said a slightly teasing part of Octavia’s mind. Shut up! snapped the rest of Octavia. She walked towards the restroom. I am not procrastinating! There’s simply no other way to speak to Vinyl until I get to work. What am I supposed to do, go see her at her home? I don’t even know where she lives! Besides, nopony in their right mind would visit somepony else this early in the morning. There was a knock at the door. Admittedly, it was a very quiet knock. Octavia straightened slightly, staring towards the sound. There was another knock at the door. Slightly louder. It wouldn’t be… Octavia’s thought trailed off. The knock returned, more insistent this time. The grey mare shook her head. Somepony somewhere is getting a sick pleasure out of my dilemmas. *** Vinyl stood at the door of Octavia’s home. She had been standing there for about five minutes, trying to psyche herself into actually knocking. Her hoof twitched an inch closer to the door, but she pulled it back as though the door were a snake. I wish the door were a snake, thought Vinyl. An angry Octy is probably a lot worse than a snake. She tried again, and this time her hoof lightly rapped against the wooden door. Vinyl recoiled, shielding her face with her hooves, half expecting an angry cellist to rocket through the door. A few moments passed. Maybe she didn’t hear me. I could just leave and she wouldn’t even know I was here! The DJ’s hoof moved to the door, knocking three times. Vinyl stared down at the treacherous appendage. I never liked you. A few more moments passed. Where the hell is she? I come here to apologize and she doesn’t even answer the door. Vinyl knocked on the door a third time, far more insistently this time. “Come on, Tavi,” murmured the DJ. “Don’t make this any more awkward for me.” She shifted her weight from hoof to hoof, a slightly complicated task as she had four of them. Vinyl considered knocking again. The door opened and a disheveled Octavia stepped out. Her mane was not combed and stuck out in places, her bowtie was not on, and there were still some sleep lines on her face. There was some kind of blue ball, one with a slightly lighter swirl of blue going through it, stuck in Octavia’s mane. The cellist rubbed her eyes against the sudden sunlight. This, thought Vinyl, may be the cutest thing ever. The two mares stared at each other. Then they blinked a few times. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Vinyl lifted a hoof. “Yo,” said the DJ. She winced inwardly. That was stupid. Octavia nodded slightly. “Good morning Vinyl.” “Yeah, um… morning.” Vinyl’s voice trailed off. “I—um—wanted to apologize for… you know.” Smooth, Vinyl. Good job. “I mean,” continued the DJ, “it’s cool if you don’t want to hear it or anything. Well, actually, that wouldn’t be very cool. I’d actually be really sad to hear that, but what I meant was that it would still be cool… you know?” Octavia had a rather confused expression at the moment. Vinyl stomped a hoof, annoyed at her ineloquence. “I swear, I had this all rehearsed! It was going to sound awesome and completely get my point across. And then you walk out looking like you just woke up, which is really bucking cute, and all of that just flew out of my head!” “So,” said the cellist, “you came here to apologize?” Vinyl nodded glumly. “How did you even find where I live?” “Doc told me. This morning. He’s already at work.” Octavia blinked, remembering the talk she had had with the brown stallion. She frowned slightly. “How did he know where I live?” Vinyl shrugged. “It’s the Doctor. He just kind of knows stuff.” Octavia nodded. A few seconds passed in an awkward silence. “So, Octy,” ventured Vinyl, “are you still pissed at me?” The cellist shook her head. “Vinyl, I was never ‘pissed’ at you. Slightly annoyed, a bit bothered, but not angry.” “So,” the DJ paused. “So, can I apologize?” Octavia was on the verge of rolling her eyes. “You did a rather large amount of apologizing yesterday.” “Yeah, but you didn’t accept any of them.” A spark of annoyance leapt with the cellist. “Because there really wasn’t any need for an apology.” Vinyl looked up, giving Octavia the biggest puppy-dog eyes she could muster. Admittedly, the over-all effect was diminished by the giant reflective shades Vinyl wore. “Please Octy; just say ‘It’s okay.’ Pretty please?” Octavia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Does it matter that much to you?” “Yes,” replied Vinyl without hesitation. “Fine then,” said Octavia, opening her eyes. “It’s okay, Vinyl. I forgive you.” The DJ breathed a sigh of relief. “That feels a lot better.” She took the moment to hug Octavia. “See, doesn’t accepting an apology make everything better?” The cellist tried to push Vinyl away. “I still don’t see why you stubbornly insist on apologizing.” The DJ kept Octavia firmly in her embrace. “Long story. Tell you later. Why do you care so much about not accepting apologies?” Octavia hesitated for a few moments. “Also a long story.” Vinyl smiled in an understanding matter. “That’s cool. It’s all water under the bridge now anyway.” “Indeed.” A beat of silence. “Vinyl?” asked Octavia. “Yes, Tavi?” “Will you be letting go of me anytime soon?” “No chance, Pillow.” Octavia blinked. “What did you call me?” Vinyl’s response was drowned out by a growl from her stomach. The DJ blushed slightly. The cellist blinked again. “Vinyl, how long has it been since you’ve eaten?” “I ate yesterday.” Vinyl paused. “Chocolate bars count, right?” Octavia rolled her eyes and ground a hoof into Vinyl’s side. The DJ jumped and the cellist was able to slip out of her grasp. “I’m surprised you haven’t collapsed.” The grey mare walked back into her home. “Come in, Vinyl; I’ll treat you to breakfast.” Vinyl waved her hooves dismissively. “No, that’s fine. I’ll eat later.” Her stomach growled again. “I’m not even hungry,” she said through a sheepish grin. Octavia arched an eyebrow. “You’re lying. Just follow me; consider it an apology for being so pig-headed yesterday.” Vinyl smiled. “Well, if you insist.” She glanced at the candy stuck in Octavia’s mane. “But only because you look so sweet today.” The cellist shook her head, walking back into her home. Vinyl followed, busily trying to think of candy puns. ‘Give me a break’? No, that’s a little obscure. ‘I could Hershey’s kiss you’? No, that’s too obvious. And those were both chocolate puns, that’s a hard candy stuck in her mane… Is chocolate a candy? It’s not a hard candy, duh; but I’ve always thought of chocolate as chocolate and candy as candy. But they put chocolate in the candy aisle… except when they don’t. Vinyl’s train of thought had been completely derailed, spiraling into a sweets related existential crisis. Octavia trotted into the kitchen, looking back towards the DJ. Vinyl had a pensive look about her that betrayed her profound thoughts. “Vinyl, do you have any preferences for breakfast?” called the cellist. Vinyl snapped out of her stupor. She flopped onto a nearby couch. “Do you have any of those chocolate cereals? A couple of those are giving away toys.” Octavia peeked through the kitchen doorway. “You’re not serious.” “I know! They’re just giving away toys! I mean, the toys are kind of lame but it’s okay because they’re free, right?” The cellist disappeared into the kitchen, mumbling to herself. “Of course you’re serious, you’re completely serious. My boss is a five year old.” She rummaged through the refrigerator. “How about oatmeal?” she called into the living room. “Oatmeal? Are you crazy? Nopony actually eats oatmeal. Too healthy.” “I eat oatmeal,” murmured Octavia. “What? I couldn’t hear you!” “Nothing!” Octavia rummaged a bit more. “How about pancakes? Do you have a problem with pancakes?” “No ma’am.” Vinyl put a hoof up to her forehead, before remembering that Octavia was in an entirely different room. “I don’t have a problem with pancakes.”   *** “Taaaaaaaavi.” Vinyl placed herself inches away from the cellist’s face. “Are the pancakes ready?” “No, Vinyl,” said Octavia in a deceivingly calm tone. “It’s been five minutes. I’ve only just finished the batter.” “Can we eat that?” “No.” Vinyl slumped. “Can we just leave? We’ll eat on the way to work.” My boss, everypony, thought Octavia sarcastically. She placed a pan on the stove, allowing it to heat up slightly. The DJ poked the grey mare’s cheek. “Tavi, this is taking foreeeeeever!” Deep breaths, Octavia, she thought to herself. This is an apology. I can’t snap at the pony I’m trying to apologize to. Vinyl poked Octavia again. “Can I at least have some candy?” The cellist arched an eyebrow as she poured the batter. “What candy?” The DJ lifted up a portion of Octavia’s mane. “Well, it looks like a really sweet bit of hard candy.” She squinted at the sphere embedded in black.. “Hey cool! It looks kind of like my mane!” Octavia snatched her hair out of Vinyl’s hoof, staring at the offending piece of candy. When did that? Octavia nearly facehoofed. I fell asleep without finishing it. “Vinyl,” said the grey mare as she walked out of the kitchen. “I hate to do this, but I need you to watch the pancakes for a while. Make sure they don’t burn; I need to shower.” Octavia walked out of the room. Vinyl nodded. “Right, watch the pancakes. I can do that. I mean, even a filly could do something like th—Dear Celestia, she’s taking a shower. Right now. And I’m just sitting in the kitchen.” The DJ poked her head through the doorway, catching a glimpse of Octavia’s tail enter a room. The door closed firmly behind the cellist. Vinyl cursed under her breath. “She’s showering and I’m all the way over here. Damn it Vinyl, you need to step your game up… I can’t believe I just said that.” She turned back to the task at hoof. Pancakes. Shouldn’t be too hard.   ***   Octavia washed out the last bit of candy. “Honestly, that was just careless of me,” she mumbled to herself. “And I looked like an idiot. What a wonderful way to begin the day.” There was a shout coming from the direction of the kitchen. Something heavy clanged to the floor. Octavia hesitated slightly, and then bolted through the door. “Vinyl! Are you okay?” The DJ pointed an accusing hoof towards the floor. “It jumped at me! That thing’s crazy!” The cellist followed the hoof. “Vinyl… That’s a pan.” “An evil pan! First it wouldn’t let go of my pancake and then it threw my pancake up into the air! So I tried to make some more pancakes, but every time I tried to flip them, this evil thing sent them up there!” Vinyl pointed sharply towards the ceiling. Octavia glanced up, dreading the sight of a pancake-covered ceiling. “And where exactly did the pancakes go?” “Well,” said Vinyl in an exasperated manner, “it’s clearly”—she looked upwards—“not stuck to the roof. Huh. Where did they go?” Octavia shook her head. She lost a pancake. How do you even lose a pancake? This is the pony I apologized to. “So no more pancakes?” asked Vinyl. “Can we head out now?” Octavia found it strange that Vinyl Scratch, of all ponies, couldn’t seem to wait to get to work. “There’s still some batter left.” Vinyl shifted her weight, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Are you sure you don’t wanna go?” “Is there a reason why you want to leave now?” The DJ paused. “Well, I didn’t come here just to apologize. I mean, that was a big part of it but it’s not the only reason.” Octavia didn’t respond. “I’m actually a cyborg form the future that’s supposed to protect you.” Vinyl maintained a serious expression as she spoke. “… Pardon?” “I’m just messing with you,” said the DJ with a slight laugh. “Actually, Fancy Pants sent me over here to get you.” Octavia felt a chill come over her. “Fancy Pants wants to see us?” “Yup.” “Vinyl… it’s been about forty five minutes since you first came here.” “Yup.” “How long have we kept Fancy Pants waiting?” “It’s been abou—“ Octavia held up a hoof, cutting off Vinyl. “Think carefully. Be certain, absolutely certain, of how much time has passed and how long you kept Fancy Pants, our boss Fancy Pants, waiting.” Vinyl nodded. Scary Octy. Engage survival mode. “Not very long.” Octavia’s eye twitched slightly. The DJ’s mind was screaming at her. Wrong answer! Change answer, for the love of Celestia, CHANGE YOUR ANSWER! Vinyl began speaking as quickly as she could.“It’s been about an hour, but Fancy Pants is really cool and I’ve kept him waiting for way longer than an hour before. Besides, Harpo and the Doctor are there and they can keep Fancy Pants entertained and—Tavi, why are you picking up the pan?” Octavia stared at the metal object in her hooves. Vinyl briefly considered bolting outside. “Tavi… we’re friends, remember? You like me. You don’t want to cause me pain. Pain hurts.” The cellist reluctantly put the pan onto the stove. “Yes Vinyl, we are friends. Let’s go.” Vinyl breathed a sigh of relief and turned towards the door. Octavia lashed out with her hoof, connecting with the back of Vinyl’s head. “Next time that our boss asks us into work,” said Octavia, “tell me that our boss is asking us into work.” The DJ rubbed at the back of her head and nodded. “I’m your boss too,” she mumbled. “Yes, but we’re also friends, aren’t we?” Octavia smiled sweetly. Vinyl tried to fight back a growing grin. “Do you always beat your friends?” “Vinyl, I only beat my friends.” A few blocks away, in a squat and imposing building, Harpo Parish Nadermane sneezed.   ***   “Vinyl, Octavia, I’m so glad that you two could join us.” Fancy Pants grinned in his normal affable manner. Octavia looked down slightly. “We’re sorry we kept you waiting.” “He’s gonna be fine with it,” whispered Vinyl from beside the grey mare. Octavia didn’t respond. “And I am fine with it,” asserted Fancy Pants. “Harpo and the Doctor have kept me company. They are remarkably informed about local gossip.” The stallions grinned from a nearby couch. The Doctor was wearing a custodian’s uniform with two names stitched onto it: ‘Doctor’ and ‘Time Turner.’ Fancy Pants leaned slightly towards the mare. “So, have you finished your little spat?” he asked with an amused glint in his eyes.                  Octavia nodded. “Yes, Fancy Pants,” said Vinyl in a monotonous voice. The rich pony clapped his hooves. “Wonderful! That certainly makes my job much easier; I was considering hoof-cuffing you two together until you made up. But that doesn’t seem necessary anymore.” Fancy Pants grinned. Nopony was quite sure whether he was joking or not. The ponies relapsed into a smiling silence. “Now,” continued Fancy Pants, “in all seriousness, I wanted to check your progress. Is there any problem? Well, besides the fact that you couldn’t work together.” Octavia began to wonder whether there was some actual malice behind Fancy Pants’s teasing. “I can’t think of anything.” Fancy Pants thought for a moment. “Well, maybe not a problem. Is there anything you need would be the better question.” Vinyl put a hoof to her chin. “Can we get the piano in here? And some kind of recorder?” Fancy Pants nodded. “Doctor, can I ask for your assistance?” Time Turner sprang to his hooves. “Of course you can ask! Better yet, you can have it.” The two left the room. Octavia rounded on Harpo. “You told Fancy Pants about yesterday?” The composer held up a defensive hoof. “We told Fancy Pants about yesterday. The Doctor and I. And it was a wonderful little chat!” The cellist was not amused. “You had ‘a wonderful little chat’ about personal matters! My personal matters! That you discussed with our boss!” “Honestly Octavia, you need to calm down,” said Harpo. “Fancy Pants is not like any other boss. He’s far more forgiving, especially when compared to the other ponies who own record labels. Can you imagine working for somepony like Hoity Toity or Prince Blueblood?” Harpo shivered. “Terrible.” Vinyl took a seat by Harpo. “Yeah Tavi, relax a little. Fancy Pants is a really cool pony.” “He’s rather like your parents,” added Harpo. The DJ perked up slightly at that. “Tavi’s parents?” Harpo nodded. “Yes, Marcato and Legato Philharmonica. They’re about as nice as Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis and just as easy-going. In fact, they’re probably even more ‘go with the flow’ than Fancy Pants and Fleur.” Vinyl whistled softly. “That’s a lot of flow to be goin’ with.” She turned to Octavia. “And Miss Stick-In-Her-Flank Worrywart is their daughter?” The cellist threw a frown at Vinyl. “Yes,” said Harpo. “The most liberal parents can have the most conservative children.” The DJ nodded slightly. “I can see that.” “Are we finished talking about my family?” asked Octavia with a raised eyebrow. “Indeed, we’re moving on to your personal past now.” Harpo smirked and leaned towards the DJ. “Vinyl, have I ever told you one of Octavia’s drunk stories?” Vinyl’s smirk grew to match Harpo’s. “No, I don’t think you have. Wanna share with the rest of the class?” “Well, this one happened around two years ago at one of Berry Punch’s parties.” Octavia punched Harpo’s foreleg. “That’s quite enough out of you.” “But it’s a very good story!” whined Harpo. “One that I don’t want repeated.” Vinyl huffed. “So I’m the only one who can’t know? That’s no fun!” Harpo winked at the DJ and mouthed the words “I’ll tell you later.” Octavia hit him again. “Ow!” cried Harpo. “Always with the violence! I’m going to report you to the Guard one of these days.” “Not with your record,” smirked Octavia. “Woah!” said Vinyl. “Harpo’s got a record? Dude, hoofbump.” The DJ reached a hoof out to Harpo. “To be honest,” said the composer with a sheepish grin. “I don’t remember doing most of the things I did.” “Doesn’t matter. Hoofbump.” Vinyl shook her outstretched hoof. Harpo bumped it. The Doctor poked his head through the doorway. “Right, so the recorder isn’t a problem; that’ll fit right through the door. But the grand piano doesn’t work in the same way. Help would be appreciated.” Octavia walked out and Vinyl got to her hooves. Harpo caught the DJ’s eyes and gestured for her to stay. “So,” whispered Harpo. “Alone in Octavia’s house, were we?” Vinyl nodded. “Please tell me that you didn’t let the opportunity pass.” “… Define ‘pass.’” “I’ll take that as a yes.” Harpo didn’t look too sad at this news. “Perfect.” “Perfect?” “Yes,” said Harpo with a malicious grin. “I have such a malicious mind for relationships, and I would hate to be robbed of this opportunity. Just wait until this gig is over.” “Harpo,” said Vinyl uncertainly. “I don’t know if this is a good idea anymore.” The composer looked taken aback. “What do you mean?” “Look, Tavi’s great and everything, but I don’t know if she’s, you now, for me. I wish she was, but I’m not really sure.” Harpo nodded slightly. “I see… Do you still care for her?” “Well yeah, but—“ “Do you still want to be with her?” “Of course, but—“ “Then I don’t see a problem!” Harpo grinned. “Besides, you’ve only known Octavia for a few days. Give it a few more, and you’ll probably be head over hooves with her.” Or completely through with your crush, he added mentally. “Oi, you two!” came the Doctor’s voice. “You have eight working hooves that are currently not working!” Harpo winked at Vinyl as they got to their hooves. “Trust me on this.” Vinyl smiled weakly. “We’ll see, Harpo.”