Vinyl sat at her piano, a wide grin plastered across her face as her hooves and magic danced across the keys. Her eyes burned with tension from behind her purple shades as she tried to outplay the cellist-turned-bassist behind her. Holy Celestia, she thought with a start, forget outplaying, I can barely keep up! She glanced back at Octavia. But I’m not done yet!
The DJ-turned-pianist put on an extra flourish, signaling the beginning of an impromptu solo. Octavia rolled her eyes slightly and toned down her playing, providing the basic bass line to go along with Vinyl’s solo. The unicorn’s mind went blank and her hooves re-doubled their efforts. She improvised for around a minute, the notes she played as much a surprise to herself as to the other ponies in a room.
Octavia Philharmonica could not take her eyes off of the DJ; the sight mesmerized her. Vinyl was too caught up in her improvisations to notice, but the cellist never once took her eyes off of the DJ.
Vinyl’s already tangled mane flew as she played. Her glasses slipped slightly, revealing her steadily reddening irises. It seemed as though the more passionately she played, the redder her eyes became. A smile was steadily growing on Vinyl’s face. A single line of sweat dripped down from the DJ’s forehead.
Octavia took in each and every detail.
Vinyl allowed her piano to settle back into the song, snapping the cellist out of her stupor. They played in harmony again, Octavia desperately trying to keep herself from staring at the DJ.
On the other side of the room, Harpo placed his hooves together, a devious glint in his eyes.
The song came to a close. The Doctor and Harpo stomped the ground, cheering and whistling for their two favorite musicians. Fancy Pants resigned himself to a dignified clap.
“That was brilliant!” cried the Doctor. “That was absolutely fantastic!”
Harpo shouted his agreement. Octavia grinned sheepishly, not quite used to overwhelming praise. Sure, there were a few articles which praised the cellist to the stars, but most of her performances ended with polite applause.
Vinyl, on the other hoof, was soaking everything in. She lived off of a crowd’s energy. The DJ held a hoof to her ear, leaning in towards the stallions’ compliments. She rolled a hoof in the air, the universal sigh for ‘keep it coming.’
“Yes,” said Fancy Pants once the Doctor and Harpo had cheered themselves out. “It was a wonderful performance, and quite the departure from your usual style, Octavia.”
The cellist smiled, her cheeks tinged slightly pink from the praise.
“And you Vinyl,” continued Fancy Pants. “It’s rather incredible that you were able to instill such a stylistic change in such a short amount of time.”
Vinyl scuffed at the ground in mock embarrassment. “Aw shucks, Mr. Pants, it ain’t much. Just doin’ my job, is all.”
Fancy Pants smiled warmly. “An impeccable job, as always.”
The DJ beamed. “Well, Tavi did a lot of the work. I kind of passed out for about an hour yesterday and when I woke up, she was jamming. I don’t know how she did it!”
All eyes turned onto the grey mare.
Octavia looked around, her own eyes eventually settling on a gramophone in the corner. “I listened to the songs. Quite a few times, actually. I can still hear Fiona Apple singing.” The cellist paused for a moment and shuddered. “It’s rather disturbing, actually.”
Vinyl grinned and walked over to Octavia. She thumped the grey mare on the back. “Disturbing is good! Disturbing means that the song got to you!”
Octavia sharply rapped Vinyl on the side.
“What was that for?!” protested the DJ as she rubbed her side.
“You hit me,” said Octavia matter-of-factly.
“I didn’t hit you! That was a thump.”
“Well, I don’t appreciate ‘thumps.’”
Vinyl grinned. “You sure? I wouldn’t mind thumping you some more.” The DJ waggled her eyebrows.
Octavia sputtered, her face growing steadily redder. She opened her mouth to provide a sharp retort.
Fancy Pants clapped his hooves sharply. “I’m going to cut off this digression. I’d rather prefer that my musicians did not maim each other in front of me. I would have to hide the remains.” He gave a weary sigh. “I speak from experience when I say that it is not an easy task.”
The other four ponies stared at Fancy Pants.
The distinguished unicorn chuckled lightly. “If I weren’t so planted in business I would go in for acting. But I have already begun this venture. Tell me, my dear musicians, do you think that you’re ready to perform?”
Harpo and Octavia looked at Vinyl. Fancy Pants noticed this and resumed his chuckling.
The DJ took on a thoughtful pose. “I…” she began slowly. “I think that there’s a point where more practice doesn’t help.”
Harpo coughed. It sounded like a laugh.
“And what are you laughing at Harpbutt?”
Harpbutt took his new nickname in stride. “Well, Harpbutt, meaning myself, is simply commenting on the irony of your statement. Yesterday you literally worked yourself to the point of exhaustion. And now you think that practicing won’t help us.”
Vinyl dismissed the idea with a wave of her hoof. “That’s different. You can work until you pass out as long as you’re getting somewhere. You can only relax if you can’t do anything about something. Follow?”
Harpo lifted his hooves. “Harpbutt concedes the point.”
“Thank you, Harpbutt.” Vinyl smiled sweetly.
Octavia mentally facehoofed. I am working with a group of foals.
“So,” continued Vinyl, “like I was saying. Actual practice, like playing instruments and staring at music notes, won’t help us anymore. It’ll be useless, it’ll confuse us, and it’ll tire us out.”
Fancy Pants smiled serenely. “So is this the final practice session?”
Vinyl nodded. “Yeah, I think it is.”
The cellist squirmed at the thought, but held her tongue.
Fancy Pants got to his hooves. “Wonderful. Remember that you will be playing in the Lighthouse Café on the day after tomorrow. Meet here at about noon and I will take care of the rest. Is there a problem with that?”
The musicians shook their heads.
Fancy Pants turned to the other stallion. “Doctor, is there anything that you’d like to add?”
The Doctor considered it for a moment. “No, not particularly.” A pause. “Well, actually, that’s not true. Vinyl, we haven’t finished our test run of the sound system.”
The DJ clacked a hoof against the ground, bumping it against a table and dropping a cup of coffee in the process. “That’s right! Is Neon already over at the Lighthouse?”
The brown stallion nodded.
“Alright, we’ll head over right after we clean up here.” Vinyl levitated the cup back onto the table, staring down at the spilt coffee with disappointment.
Fancy Pants nodded. “A good plan. I’m afraid that I won’t be joining you; I have some business that I must attend to.”
Octavia frowned. “It seems as though you have nothing but business these days, Fancy Pants. I hope that you’re taking better care of yourself than Vinyl did.”
“Hey!” said Vinyl as she rubbed at the coffee with a rag. She jerked upwards, slamming her head against the underside of the table. “Ow! Who the hell put that table there?!”
“You did,” the Doctor offered helpfully. “You levitated it over because you needed someplace to put your coffee. That was right before you moved over to the piano and knocked over another cup of coffee.”
“Thanks for that, by the way,” said Harpo.
Vinyl threw a look at the brown stallion. The Doctor smiled warmly. Octavia hid her mouth behind a hoof as she giggled.
Fancy Pants looked on with a grin. “I assure you, Octavia, I will not be crashing into tables anytime soon. I am simply in the middle of negotiations.”
“Negotiations for what?” questioned Octavia.
Fancy Pants winked. “A surprise.” He walked towards the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take my leave.”
He pushed on the door and nearly crashed into Trans Script. The mare had one hoof raised, evidently about to knock on the door.
“Oh!” said the receptionist. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir! You told me to find you at about this time so I came up here, but it looks like you’re already about to leave, so my being here is kind of pointless… I’m sorry.” There were slight bags under Trans Script’s eyes, but she spoke at a breakneck speed. Her final two words, however, came out slowly and pronounced.
Fancy Pants gave her a slightly worried smile. “It was my fault, Miss Script. I was attempting a slightly theatrical exit and was not aware of my surroundings.” He put a hoof on the receptionist’s shoulder. “Are you quite alright?”
She looked up, locking eyes with the unicorn. Her lower lip quivered slightly. Trans Script took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine in a little bit. By tomorrow. I’ll be good by tomorrow.”
Fancy Pants nodded. “I hope that you are.” He turned his head back towards the musicians and the Doctor. “Goodbye again.” He gave Trans Script another nod, brushing past her on his way through the door.
The receptionist nodded her own goodbye, trailing Fancy Pants as she made her way back to the lobby.
The musicians and the Doctor watched them leave.
“So,” said Vinyl, “what do you think’s wrong?”
Harpo shrugged, getting up to stretch his hooves. Octavia nodded, her mind preoccupied with the idea of not practicing.
The Doctor looked thoughtful. “There’s no way to know for sure.”
“But you have an idea, don’t you Doc?”
The brown stallion nodded slowly. “I know that there’s something wrong. That is the extent of my current knowledge.”
Vinyl nodded. “You gonna investigate?”
The Doctor considered this for a moment. “I might.”
Silence reigned in the room for a time. Harpo paced from side to side, feeling restless for no apparent reason.
Vinyl got to her hooves. “Alright, Doc and I have to go down to the Café. You two can go home already; we’ll take it from here.”
Harpo nodded. Octavia’s eyes widened slightly.
“Home?” asked the cellist.
“Yes,” said Vinyl. “Home. That place with a bed. You can go to sleep or just relax or something. I’ll see you in two days.”
“Would you mind terribly if I went with you two?”
The DJ arched an eyebrow. “Really? We’re just going to be messing with wires.”
“That’s fine,” replied Octavia.
“It’ll be boring,” warned Vinyl. “Neon already has most of it done; we’re just going to top things off.”
“I don’t mind. And neither does Harpo.” The cellist turned to the composer. “You don’t, do you?”
“Actually,” said Harpo. “I feel a slight crick in my back. I think that heading home would be a goo—“
“He doesn’t mind.” Octavia smiled sweetly.
Harpo threw up his hooves. “Nopony ever listens to me. I could say absolutely anything. Zippity doo-da. Bobo squawkin’ boppin. Vinyl has a crush on Octavia.”
The DJ magically threw a Styrofoam cup at Harpo.
Octavia ignored Harpo. “So, would you mind terribly if we joined you?”
Vinyl kept her eyebrows raised. She stared at Octavia for a while. Then she shrugged. “Whatever.” She walked out through the door, the Doctor following close behind.
“Octavia,” whispered Harpo to the cellist. “What are you planning?”
“I’m not planning anything, Harpo. I’m simply curious as to what Vinyl works with. And now we get to meet another member of Fancy Pants’s staff. It is a completely positive situation.” Octavia unconsciously fiddled with her bowtie.
Harpo noticed this. “I don’t believe you.”
Vinyl’s voice floated in from the hallway. “So are you two actually coming, or what?!”
Octavia trotted out of the room before the composer could continue his questioning.
Harpo frowned slightly. “I will never, never in my entire life, understand the thoughts of that mare. And Luna help me if I ever do.”
***
Fancy Pants walked through the doors of his newly built studio, his mind preoccupied with Trans Script’s obvious discomfort.
It’s clearly some kind of personal problem, but it is not one that can be solved through a pay raise or a few sick days. He frowned slightly. I wish she had told me what is actually bothering her.
“Dear, please stop frowning. It does not suit your normally handsome face.” Fleur de Lis appeared at Fancy Pants’s side.
The husband jumped. “Fleur! When did you get here? You almost gave me a heart attack!”
The pink unicorn giggled lightly, gesturing to the cart in front of her. “We’ve been here for some ten minutes. You walked out of your building, walked to the curb, and then simply stood there and frowned. It was slightly worrying. Is there anything wrong, dear?”
Fancy Pants smiled down at his wife and quickly kissed her. “Yes. But I can’t do anything about it just yet, so there’s no point in worrying. Now come, we’ve a party to get to.”
He took his wife by the hoof, helping her back into the cart.
“Good morning Spokes,” called Fancy Pants as he passed by his driver.
“Mornin’, sir,” said Spokes with a nod. “How’re your musicians doin’?”
The dapper stallion grinned. “Wonderfully. Absolutely wonderfully. It’s incredible just how quickly some ponies grow.”
Spokes grinned. They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Fancy Pants joined his wife in the cart.
“You’re in a better mood,” noted Fleur de Lis with a smile.
Fancy Pants nodded as his cart began to move. “I had a rather nice talk with Spokes just now. Those three, those musicians, have been incredible. They’ve only known each other for a few days, but most anypony would think that they had been working together for months!”
Fleur nodded, her smile widening at her husband’s enthusiasm.
“It’s incredible, Fleur,” continued Fancy Pants. “Octavia has completely switched her playing style, Harpo took a moment to seriously advise Vinyl, and Vinyl herself seems to have taken a leadership role.” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “I’m so proud.”
The mare laughed. “You better be after all of the work that you’ve put in. You’ve been running yourself ragged.”
The stallion nodded. “But it will pay off in the end. Especially if today goes well.”
“Not that there’s a reason for it to go badly.”
“Don’t jinx it!” Fancy Pants looked from side to side. “Okay, I don’t think that the universe heard you. We should be fine.”
Fleur de Lis rolled her eyes. “Honestly Fancy, think of who you’re going to speak to. It’s an easy feat!”
Fancy Pants put a hoof to his lips. “Fleur, never underestimate the power of a jinx.”
“Dear, will you ever grow up?”
The husband nuzzled closer to his wife. “Only if you asked me to.”
Fleur smiled, kissing Fancy Pants. “Never.”
“Good. I was bluffing anyway.”
The cart rolled to a stop. Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis exited. They stood in front of a luxurious mansion. Carts were steadily arriving, each one carrying a member of high Canterlot society.
The couple put on their show smiles, greeting any pony that recognized them. Which is to say every pony that they encountered. Through some tactful maneuvering, Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis were able to enter the mansion within fifteen minutes.
Fleur glanced up at a nearby clock. “It took us a little under twenty minutes to walk about twenty five feet.”
Fancy Pants smiled. “Indeed. I think that it’s a new record. Come on, we’ll greet our host.”
The pink unicorn grimaced slightly. “I don’t like him.”
“Nopony does.” The stallion looked towards the staircase where, sure enough, a white unicorn with a blonde mane stood.
Prince Blueblood was reluctantly shaking hooves with his guests, making a point of not making eye contact with any but the most respected ponies.
Fancy Pants shook his head. “He thinks that he’s Princess Celestia at the Grand Galloping Gala.”
“Do we have to greet him?” asked Fleur.
“I’m afraid so.”
The couple stood in line, making pleasant conversation with the ponies around them. The atmosphere seemed to grow more unpleasant as they drew closer to Prince Blueblood. Conversation ceased altogether while there were still five ponies between the couple and the pompous pony.
Eventually, however, Fancy Pants and Fleur found themselves at the front of the line. The husband put on his social grin, taking the other stallion’s hoof. “Prince Blueblood, thank you for having us.”
The Prince literally looked down his nose at Fancy Pants. “The privilege is yours. Try not to associate with the rabble.”
Fancy Pants’s eye twitched imperceptibly. Fleur placed a hoof on his side, leading him away from the line.
“Two sentences,” said Fancy Pants. “Two sentences and I am quite ready to leave.”
“You and I both,” agreed Fleur. “But don’t worry. There are some ponies here that are actually worth speaking to.” She gestured to a nearby table.
A grey stallion with a short, black mane and dark blue eyes sat with a white, yellow-maned, violet-eyed mare. They were leaning in conspiratorially, the grey stallion shaking from some form of laughter.
Fancy Pants gave a half-smile. “Fleur, you’re too good at changing my mood. I’m beginning to think that I am bipolar.”
“Darling, you are bipolar.”
The dapper unicorn shrugged.
The mare at the table had spotted Fancy Pants and had begun to wildly wave her front hooves. The stallion was still broken down with laughter.
Fancy Pants raised a hoof in greeting and he and his wife made their way to the table.
“Fancy Pants! Fleur de Lis! We did not expect to see you here!” The mare had a melodious, energetic voice. The stallion’s giggles devolved into hiccups.
“Really?” asked Fancy Pants. “I was under the impression that we had agreed to meet here.”
The mare put a hoof to her chin. “We did, didn’t we?” She turned to the grey stallion. “Honey, we did, didn’t we?” Her husband, recovering bit by bit, nodded. “Well, then” said the mare turning back to Fancy Pants, “why did you keep us waiting? And after we had agreed to meet!”
Fancy Pants smiled. “Pardon us, but we had to greet our most esteemed host.”
Prince Blueblood’s voice carried through the open room. “Raspberry punch? I asked for strawberry punch! Do you not understand who I am?!”
The stallion, now recovered from his fit of laughter snorted. “A bleating idiot is what you are,” he said loudly.
His wife rapped him sharply. “Don’t say that! What if somepony heard you?”
“Then they would probably agree with me!” The grey pony smiled slyly.
Fancy Pants grinned. “Now I see where she gets it.”
“Where she gets what?” replied the other husband. “A tendency to beat ponies that she loves?” That earned him another punch from his wife.
“No, darling,” said the mare. “He means the tendency to make snide comments.”
Fleur smiled. “I think it’s a bit of both, really.”
“And how is our dear daughter?” asked the mare.
“Well, Legato, Octavia has been growing by leaps and bounds! I’ve been saying it all day, but it is astounding! I am, however, for her to grow fully comfortable with the ponies she’s working with.”
Marcato Philharmonica’s turned excitedly to his wife. “She’s exactly like me, dear! Remember when I couldn’t say more than two words to you?”
Legato sighed wistfully. “Those were the days.” Fleur de Lis hid her mouth as she giggled.
“Oh, be quiet,” said Marcato. “You love me. You love my voice! I could speak for days on end and you would listen to every single word.”
“Darling, you have been speaking for years on end. I’m lucky that my ears haven’t fallen off.”
Marcato grinned and turned to Fancy Pants and Fleur. “We’ve been married for 27 years and I have never once bested her in an argument. Even when I won, I lost.”
Legato swung a hoof at him. Her husband caught it and gave it a quick kiss. The mare turned slightly pink, but chose not to withdraw her hoof.
Marcato’s grin widened. “A few years ago, that would have left me with a black eye. Well, at least I can still make her blush.”
“Indeed,” said Fancy Pants with a warm smile. He glanced at his own wife. “Some things never change.”
“Oh,” said Legato, “but time inexorably marches on.” Her voice took on a slightly more serious tone, though it kept its bright lilt. “That’s the reason why we’re here Fancy Pants. Time is marching on and you’re going to help it along, replacing the last generation in the process.”
Fancy Pants shook his head. “Nothing can replace the past. Everything simply builds upon it.”
“Pish posh,” said Marcato resolutely. “The future will overshadow the past, will change the changes that our generation has made, don’t pretend that it won’t! And I say it’s about time.”
Fancy Pants arched an eyebrow. Fleur de Lis smiled lightly.
“Yes,” continued Marcato, “let the new replace the old. I believe in that even more firmly now that my daughter’s part of the new.”
“Then you’ll help us?” asked Fancy Pants.
“Of course we will,” affirmed Legato. “Whatever else could we have decided? You didn’t think that we’d deny your offer, did you?”
Fleur de Lis gave her husband a teasing smile. Fancy Pants replied by quickly sticking his tongue out at her.
The business pony turned back to the Philharmonicas. “Then we will see each other in a few weeks time.”
Marcato and Legato nodded.
“In that case,” said Fleur de Lis, “we’ll take our leave for now; Fancy and I have to make our rounds.”
“Wait,” said Legato, “one last thing. Please make sure that they are completely prepared for the occasion. Oh, and don’t tell Octavia that we’re involved; I want it to be a surprise.” The mare had a child-like glint in her eye.
“Of course,” replied Fancy Pants. He and Fleur de Lis walked towards the epicenter of the party, their walk constantly interrupted by greetings.
The Philharmonicas leaned closer together, taking on the position they had been in when Fancy Pants first walked in.
“This is going to be so much fun!” said Legato in a slightly squeaky voice.
“Isn’t it?” replied Marcato excitedly. “Octavia and her friends will either be made or mortified! What more could a parent ask for?”