//------------------------------// // Chapter Three- First Lessons of First Disaster // Story: The Strings Of Life // by MLPxMaestro //------------------------------// The Strings Of Life: Chapter 3- First Lessons of First Disaster: “I still can’t believe you made me go up there in front of everypony in that sold out crowd.” Those were Maestro’s first words, as they entered into Octavia’s lovely home. “Well, I suppose you did in fact have a few issues. But now you know the discipline it takes to be a performer.” She replied. They soon after made their way into her living room, as Octavia made herself comfortable on her couch, while she asked Maestro to remain standing, and take out his Cello. “You’re kidding right? Do you even know how late it is?” “It’s only eleven o’ clock, what’s the matter?” “Well I just…” He figured he didn’t want to keep talking to her, and instead get on with it. “Well, what are you waiting for? Play for me.” Maestro felt a bit nervous after she asked him to play for her, he didn’t even know what to play. “Um, what would you-” “I just want you to play whatever comes to your mind. Feel it in your mind, let it flow down your arm, and flow out onto your bow, and make the strings come to life.” “Wow…I’ve never heard it explained in such a way.” “Oh…well thank you…now play.” With a gulp, he took a seat on a chair, and began guiding the bow along the strings, making the instrument come to life with a voice of its own it seemed. He continued playing, and to his surprise, he was doing pretty decent so far, he had not messed up yet anyhow. He then briefly looked back at Octavia merely sitting there surprised at his level of play, and yet she was wondering why he wanted her to teach him. She takes a sip of a glass of water she had placed on the coaster beside her, and then raises her hoof in a way of telling him to stop. Silence continued for a few moments there, and Maestro was now unsure yet whether or not it was silence from observation, or silence from perhaps how bad it sounded. “That was not bad actually, but needs work however.” “What? It sounded fine to me?” he wondered. “No, your strings are not in tune with one another, that’s why it doesn’t sound right. May I see your Instrument please?” Maestro then brings his Cello over to her to readjust the strings. “Now your bow, please, I need to tune these myself. This might take a bit, so um…why don’t you take a little look around my place if you wish, your choice.” She then faces herself towards the Cello, playing between the bridge and the edge of the fingerboard, or hoofboard as it were for them. Maestro without her looking, decides to head upstairs, and accidentally stumbles across her bedroom. “Hmm…she never said I couldn’t enter into her bedroom…oh what the hay, it’s not that bad is it?” He then enters into her room; the room’s walls a soft cream color, her bed matching the colors of the walls. He continued further into her quarters, noticing pictures of her family, her mother and father included. “Look at her, she looks so happy in that picture.” He thought with a smile on his face. His smile was met with the sight of Octavia as the little foal she was in one of the pictures. Looking so happy in that group portrait of her mother, father above her, and little Octavia right below her mother, her grandmother next to her on the right side. They all looked so happy together, what atrocity could’ve caused this wonderful looking family to go to ruin so quickly? “What are you doing?” Octavia’s voice was heard as Maestro froze with being surprised. He held one of her family photos in his hoof, and then…it slipped as he turned around facing towards her. “I was just-” The photo then crashed to the floor and the glass protecting it, shattered into pieces. Octavia was shocked, and was now lost for words. All she could do was first; look at him and wonder why he was in her room, and now not believing what just happened. “Oh my goodness I am so sorry Octavia, I really am!” He immediately gets down to pick up the pieces of glass, then looks back up at her holding his Cello. “Y…you didn’t…I…can’t…bel-...leave...” “B-but Octavia I said I’m sorry, things like this-” “I said leave, your bucking Cello is in tune...lessons over…goodnight Mr. Maestro.” “Surely you’re not-” “Goodnight I said…get out of my house!” Not wanting to add fuel to the already large fire, he grabbed his Cello, and made his way out of her house…for good it seemed. He closed the door back behind him, hearing slightly the sound of frustrated tears and crying coming from her voice. He then lets out a disappointed sigh, and his ears go downward, and makes his way back home for the night. As for Octavia herself, one of her most prized possessions has been broken by the hoofs of, to her knowledge, a total stranger that she’s teaching to become a better player. What if he steals her talent, and ultimately uses her own talent against her, and ends up getting famous, and not her? It's happened before..but for another time perhaps that will be known to you. “Maybe being kicked off of that quintet was the best thing that ever happened to me.” she said to herself frustrated, as she now lay amongst the broken pieces of glass scattered across her bedroom floor. Much like the glass of her dreams becoming shattered by the floor of denial, prejudice, and misunderstanding. She then after having her moment to herself of thinking back to her family, and her grandmother she recalled once again telling her to be a strong image if you want to succeed in life. Those were some of her grandmother’s last words spoken to her before she passed away of natural causes just years ago. “Why must I go down such a hard trail of life?” she thought again. “I only wanted to find tranquility, heart, and soul in life through my music…why must all of these things occur? Oh Grandma…I miss you dearly…so very dearly.” She looks back down to the photo, wiping away the tear from her eyes once more, trying to stay to her Grandma’s wishes for her. However…she then realizes something. “This isn’t what she wanted…this isn’t what my parents wanted for me. They wanted me to be successful and strive towards my passion…not this Octavia…not this one at all.” Maestro makes his way back home, through his front door, and the sight of his mother who had left the kitchen light on with her standing there waiting for the news from him. “I take it you found a new teacher?” his mother anticipated for the good news, but it only being met with great disappointment, and sadness. “I did…not anymore though.” He didn’t even bother to glance over to his mother, and instead making his way back up to his room for the night. “I’m sorry to hear that…really…I am dear. But keep at it, okay? You’ll find one in this gorgeous city I assure you.” Maestro then mumbled to himself in reply to her comment. “That’s not the only thing that seems gorgeous around here…and now I don’t know what to think of her now, I’ve got to stay away from her now, it’d be the best thing to do I think.” He decided to take a warm shower, letting the warm water droplets tap against his coat and run down his mane like a wet rag. He thought about what he had did, and now felt terrible, realizing that was after he thought about it, it was probably one of her prized possessions. “Gosh, what an idiot I am! I knew I should’ve just looked…damn it Maestro! Why do you have to be so curious about things?” he thought out loud in a low tone to himself, since he didn’t want to hear his parents hear any of what he was saying. After spending a good while contemplating about what had happened earlier today, he stepped out of the shower, got dried off, and then made his way into bed for the remainder of the night. He got into his bed, wondering if maybe he should apologize again sincerely whenever she cools down from this incident. Yet another part of him was telling him to just stay away from her from now on, but that wouldn’t be easy. Considering where else would he go in the first place to avoid her? He let out a good long exhale of his breath, and then cut out his light on the world, and himself…telling himself something that he’d never do again. “I shall never see her again...ever."