My Dear Cello,
My faithful companion all these years. Can you actually believe where we’re going? Equestria University of Music! Father is still against me attending, of course, but Mother snuck me new strings for you in my handkerchief. I’ll have to tune and practice with you later, since there’s no room here on the train. I have a rather unfortunate looking compartment companion, who smells of hard cider and looks quite uncouth. Don’t worry, he hasn’t been eyeing you; I have your case covered with a cloth to prevent intruding gazes.
Equestria is beautiful, all laid out beside us. There’s trees and lakes and rivers with dappled shade all within view. I hope my dormitory at EMU has a view as nice as this one. Don’t you think there’s no more delightful transportation than by train? Flying may have its perks, but on a train there’s no nauseating feeling of one’s hooves leaving the ground. And the view from a train is constantly changing, whereas there’s nothing but clouds, clouds, and more clouds to be seen from the sky.
I hope my roommate is tolerable. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they were a violinist? The cello and the violin play so well together, if I do say so myself. It’s been a while since you’ve had anyone to compliment – you poor thing, cellos are so overlooked, aren’t they?
Father promised that I would send a message as soon as I got unpacked. But he won’t know the difference. I’ll get unpacked and see a few things before I write him a note; I want my experiences in EMU to be wholly mine.
Your faithful companion,
Octavia Philharmonica-
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My Dear Cello,
This is the first moment I’ve had to myself in the past two days! Things here have been such a wonderful chaos I can hardly think, even when I’m sitting alone in the library. There’s so many other musicians here – of course there are. Stupid me. Music students at a music college, of course there’s going to be other, more talented musicians. I didn’t know everyone else would be so practiced though. I’ve been going over the notes in my head, and I keep worrying that I’ll mess up. I’ve done it before, of course you remember that horrendous birthday party.
My roommate has yet to arrive. There’s a little brass nameplate on our door that says Octavia Philharmonica and Vinyl Scratch in beautiful lettering. Everything here is so polished! There’s always music in the hallways from other ponies practicing, and it all muddles together in the most beautiful noise! You and I must find ourselves a little band. Everyone here is pairing off into music partners, and if I don’t move quickly, all of the good ones will be taken. That sounds selfish of me, there must be plenty of ponies who match our skill level.
I don’t have a view from my room. I mean, I have a window, but all I see is the colt’s dormitory windows. We face each other, and since I’m on the end I’m closest to the colt’s dorm. I hope they aren’t too noisy at night, since I do have difficulty sleeping in a strange place.
Mother wrote to me and sent me a new journal. It’s truly beautiful, a gray cloth-covered book with my cutie mark emblazoned on the cover. I know everypony else thinks its strange that I write to a cello, but you really have been my best friend over the years. We’ve been through so much, through things that I still can’t bear to write. I hope our stay at EMU marks a turning of a page for the both of us, and maybe we can finally shake that Fillydelphia dust off our coats.
Classes start in ten minutes, I have to go.
Your faithful companion,
Octavia Philharmonica-
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Octavia swished her tail lightly, in what she hoped was an elegant fashion, as she rounded the last landing to her dormitory. On either side of her were two rather lovely fillies, who played the flute and the saxophone respectively, and the two of them were making very nice conversation over Octavia’s head. Being only a first year student –- and having only attended three days of school thus far –- Octavia kept rather quiet in the middle, nodding her head appropriately and trying to look wise.
The door to her dormitory was wide open, which alarmed her at first; then the gray pony remembered her roommate. “Oh, look,” she said brightly, interrupting the two of them, “I’ll have to excuse myself, have a wonderful day –- I believe my roommate’s arrived.”
Octavia nosed her way into her room and was stopped in her tracks.
Rummaging through a suitcase, headphones over her ears, was her roommate. It was an altogether absurd looking pony, at least in Octavia’s opinion; she had a long, dark blue mane that was dyed and streaked in lighter colors, and chopped spikily to create a sort of wave across one eye. Shiny purple glasses with rhinestones at the corners covered her eyes, and she appeared to be biting her lower lip, getting into whatever tune was playing inside her head. Her coat was a very pale yellow, which made Octavia think that the blue mane wasn’t natural.
“Pardon me,” Octavia said, clearing her throat, “but I believe we’re roommates.”
The other filly continued dancing, unpacking what looked like an impressive records collection. Octavia felt her stomach sink when she noticed the titles. Vibrant Techno. Dance Mix #3. The Electrohide’s Greatest Hits. They might as well have been labeled Crazy Incessant Noise. And, to Octavia’s growing horror, there was no instrument case! No violin, no ocarina, no horn or trombone or anything! She coughed, and then tapped the other filly on the flank.
“Oh!” the other pony shouted. “Hi! Nice to meet you!” She pulled her headphones off with one hoof, and now that they were away from her ears, Octavia flinched at how loud the volume was turned up.
Octavia gingerly shook her hoof. “I’m, eh, Octavia Philharmonica. And you must be...Vinyl Scratch, if I’m quite correct.”
“Yep, that’s me!” Vinyl said cheerfully. She had a deeper voice than Octavia was accustomed to, with a slight rasp as though she’d been partying all night. Which, Octavia thought to herself, she probably had been.
“So, listen, I was wondering if it would be chill if I moved some of your stuff around? To make it more even. That okay?” Vinyl continued.
Octavia sat – or rather, she fell into -- in her overstuffed gray chair. “Of...of course. Go right ahead. Do you need any...uh, help?”
“Nope! You just sit right there and I’ll finish unpacking.” Vinyl pushed aside Octavia’s collection of Equestrian Literature to one side, and replaced it with a magic eight ball. Octavia blinked in mounting trepidation as the sheet music she had tacked up prettily on her bulletin board was covered by a enormous color poster of the punk band Nine Inch Tails. Vinyl was a unicorn, something she made excellent use of as she unpacked the rest of her things. Her record floated around her, encased in a globule of fuzzy blue magic.
“Why...why are you here?” Octavia asked. Why are you here in my life?
“At college? Well, I’ve always had a knack for music ‘n stuff, so I figured, why not come to a place full of jammin’ tunes? I’ve been working down at a little soda joint, scratching a few records every night so some ponies can shake their flanks. What about you, what are you here for?” Vinyl asked in her carefree, coltish voice.
“I play the cello,” she managed feebly.
“Cool! You mean like those big upright fiddle things?”
Color flushed beneath Octavia’s violet eyes, and she seemed to rouse herself. “A cello,” she said tartly, “is a unique instrument unlike other, flightier pieces. A talented musician can make or break the entire orchestra with a cello. It is well accompanied with a violin, as you may have guessed, but it is not, under any circumstances, identified as a ‘big, upright fiddle’.”
Vinyl blinked behind her glasses. “Jeez. Okay then. You play a cello.” She swished her tail and then closed her suitcase with a snap. “So why is your cutie mark a treble clef?”
“Excuse me?” Octavia asked, furrowing her brow.
“You’re excused. A treble clef. Surely a cellist can explain why she has a treble clef, which is more commonly associated with flutes, clarinets, or coronets. Even bagpipes. Cellos, as I’m sure you know, are –“
“-More commonly associated with the bass clef,” Octavia cut her off. “I know. I think the best way to answer that question is I am not a pony who associates commonly.”
Vinyl Scratch laughed and flipped her spiky mane. “Sure. Too bad you’re stuck with me, such a common pony. Where are you from, again?”
Octavia’s cheeks colored deeply. “I don’t believe in answering questions phrased so rudely.”
“Oh. See, I was trying to make conversation. I’m from Canterlot. Judging from your accent, I’d say you’re from, where, Fillydelphia?” Vinyl cocked an eyebrow, smirking a little. “I’m trying to remember the last great cellist who came out of Fillydelphia...” she murmured sarcastically, rubbing her chin with a hoof.
“Canterlot? That explains your rudeness. However, I did think Canterlot ponies had better taste than this...garbage.” Octavia sneered, gesturing to her roommate’s vast collection of records. “Techno? Pop? Remixes? Is there not a single Beethoofen in your collection?”
It was Vinyl Scratch’s turn to flush. “Sorry, I thought music was about expressing yourself, like art. I express myself with a nice bouncy beat. Unlike you, who seems to like expressing yourself through piano strings.”
Octavia whirled on Vinyl, violet eyes narrow slits, her voice full of anger. “I do not play piano!”
“Jeez!” Vinyl said, backing away. “Fine! Okay! What are you, crazy?”
She took a deep breath and smoothed her thick black mane away from her face. “I believe I need a moment to compose myself. Don’t leave your things lying all around our room.”
“Yeah, sure,” Vinyl muttered rebelliously, glowering at Octavia’s retreating tail.
It was all downhill from there.