A week didn’t take as long as Octavia had imagined. It wasn't like she was excited to go to her new school; unpacking and practice simply used up more time then even she expected. Luckily for her, this new school hadn’t required any pre-requisite work, so she didn’t have to worry about studying just yet. Soon enough though she knew she’d be studying just as much as she would be practicing.
Octavia hopped up into the seat of their new Bitsubishi, relishing the beautiful sight of the morning dawn through the open carriage. It had been said that the greatest musical composers received influence from nature, and a sight like this would be perfect for that. Unfortunately, she was on a busy schedule now, and had someplace she had to be in a few minutes, so she couldn’t absorb as much inspiration from it as she’d have liked.
Her mother strapped herself into the yolk as the driver of the shiny black cart. She flicked her long mane out of her eyes once more; Octavia didn’t understand why she didn’t just go to a barber. She pulled the cart out of the driveway onto the black macadam of the street.
Octavia barely managed to keep her eyes open. She’d gotten used to sleeping late this past week; suddenly having to get up early threw her mind and body all out of whack, and she still hadn’t slept off the jet lag.
But all of that paled in comparison to the disturbances that plagued her attempts at sleep the previous night.
---------------------------
Almost perfectly in time with when she had pulled up the covers to drift off to sleep, the invasion had begun. Loud pounding bass, seemingly from nowhere, had shaken her entire room, to the point where a few music sheets fluttered off her music stand. No amount of pillow cover could block the sound, despite multiple attempts. She couldn’t even silently practice her way through the aural garbage; all her delicate runs were instantly drowned out by the excessive amount of wub-wub. With no other ideas, she decided to take a walk, not so silently creeping down the hallway. She figured that if her parents could sleep through the noise, they wouldn’t mind the cushioned footsteps of a filly. She swore, anypony could be robbing their home right now and her parents wouldn’t even know. How they managed to sleep through this was unthinkable to her.
She had just rounded the turn to head down the stairs, when another noise had made itself prevalent amongst the bass, something little Octavia didn’t think possible. It wasn’t quite like the deep beats; those at least kept a steady tempo. This new one seemed uncontrolled and less than constant, mixing different noises that clashed with each other at every possible instance. And through it all, she could ascertain that some of the sounds had been generated by a pony’s vocal cords, all coming from the kitchen. She had a talent for picking up sounds, though sometimes she considered it more of a curse, like right now. She went against what reason told her and stealthily traversed down the steps, careful not to let whatever was down there catch her before she obtained a proper inspection.
Truth be told, she was scared. Scared right out of her little mind. She had no idea what waited for her in her new kitchen. Were her initial suspicions correct, and they were in fact being robbed? It would be the opportune time to strike; all their belongings were in the same room, more or less. And if they were being robbed, there was a good chance the thief had weapon of some sort. One that could easily kill or horribly injure a young filly, who had just as much fighting experience as… well she actually didn’t have any for that matter. The only ponies she’d ever battled were in musical competitions, in which she was usually the victor.
Every thought she had at that point told her to turn away. There were exactly 20 reasons she should turn back, and zero reasons she should keep going. However, one of Octavia’s most prominent aspects was her curiosity, which easily overpowered her sense of reason and forced her to continue towards her goal. On the last step, she hesitated one last time before pushing herself forward with all the courage she could muster. Carefully tiphoofing through the darkness was harder than she expected, but it was necessary. The last thing she wanted to do was alert the intruder prematurely, which would only end badly.
Now having a view of the kitchen, she could see that the assailant had turned on a light for himself, to aid in his thievery. Was he so confident he thought he could just help himself to whatever they had whenever he wanted, without any fear of the owners of the house catching him in the act?
But then she noticed something else odd about the situation. The door of their fridge had turned on its hinges and was now standing wide open, concealing the identity of the intruder. Would a burglar really desire a snack, and at such late an hour? Nothing was making sense.
She suddenly felt a surge of confidence, compelling her to venture forward to figure out once and for all who it was. Her previously hesitant movements regained their normal spring, while still being careful of her darkened surroundings. It became easier as she neared the archway to the kitchen with the light from the fridge being the only source of illumination. It cast an eerie silhouette of the figure standing engulfed in its mouth against the opposite wall, mirroring its every move.
The filly now stood a good two meters away from her target, refusing to get any closer for what small amount of fear still existed within her. The shadow wasn’t quite what her overactive mind had pictured a burglar to be, if it even was one. A small amount of extra strain on her eyes had allowed her to ascertain that the figure was not in fact wearing all black like she’d imagined. It shifted ever so slightly from side to side in its search for the perfect food item.
A minute of watching passed and nothing interesting happened. Being honest with herself, she was slightly disappointed that she hadn’t had to scream because an intruder was stealing their valuables. She was getting so bored; she actually considered trying her luck at sleep again. Unfortunately for her, she lacked any motivation to move from her current position, essentially sealing her movements like quicksand. Sleeping standing up was always something she’d pondered, and her mind agreed with her whole-heartedly on giving it a test run right then and there.
Just as the lids of her eyes began their descent, the movements of the figure in the fridge became more and more complex, transforming from simple fidgets to a few full swings of forelegs. With one last look into the cold storage, it slammed the door before turning around to trek back to where it came.
Without the guiding light, the stallion previously stationed at the fridge stumbled into the first object he came in contact with. It might’ve been a misjudgment of his own ability to see in the dark, or maybe it was the fact that something existed there that previously hadn’t, but neither changed the haphazard result.
Octavia’s face was instantly smothered with the tuft of hair that was a stallion’s chest. Both reacted to the other with opposite effects, the larger losing his balance and stumbling backwards while the smaller dropped to floor with a soft thud. Unable to maintain balance, the fridge raider also dropped to the floor, with a sound that wasn’t quite as soft.
“Aggh, what the?!” the disembodied voice yelled out in surprise.
The figure scrambled to its hooves, then quickly flailed one of its forelegs towards the closest wall. In less than a moment the overhead lights flickered on, as all was revealed to the two opposing ponies.
“Octavia?!” Her father yelled, controlling his volume so as not to cause any more of a commotion in their household. “My lord, you nearly scared me to death!”
“I’m sorry father. Are you ok?”
“I’m fine.” He looked down to the now illuminated tile floor. “Though I can’t say the same for my sandwich.”
Octavia traced his gaze to the floor, where the various components of what was once a delicious egg salad sandwich lay scattered.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll… I’ll…” she stammered.
“No no, it’s ok. More importantly, what are you doing up so late?”
Still shaken but completely awake now, Octavia tried to prepare her story the best she could.
“Well, I…I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d walk around a little. Th-then I heard you down here, and I thought you were a burglar, so I came down to investigate.”
“A burglar? Oh Octavia, come here.” He wrapped his forelegs around his daughter in a warm embrace. “I’m sorry. I thought you were already asleep.”
“It’s alright father. I’m just glad it wasn’t a burglar,” she said enveloped in his embrace.
“As am I.” He let out a small laugh, which simultaneously lifted Octavia’s shaken spirit. He slowly let his forelegs fall off of his daughter to the floor. “Seeing as we’re both up, may I interest you in a glass of milk?”
“That would be lovely father.”
The fridge door swung open for the second time that night, and the beige stallion reached his maw into its supply and returned with a half-filled gallon of Equestria’s finest milk. He gently set it on the only part of the table that wasn’t covered with open cardboard boxes. Octavia had figured that, since that particular table wasn’t available, that they’d move their little nighttime date to the living room, which at the time possessed the only cleared table in the entire house.
“Now, where did they put the box with the glassware? I swear those city ponies have no idea how to organize.” Muttering the phrase seemed to have keened his senses for detecting glass, for a moment later he reached down into a nearby box and returned with two glasses. After gently setting them upright on the table, he proceeded to pick up the gallon and pour the white liquid out of its container, trying to make the amount in each as equal as he could. Only a moment after he’d finished pouring the second glass, Octavia reared up on her hind legs to grab her glass, succeeding easily despite her short stature.
The light from the kitchen illuminating their path, they trotted over to the sofa in the living room. Her father needed only plant himself on it; Octavia had to manage a short jump to reach the couch. Sitting her flank on the cushion greatly calmed her nerves. She’d been so uptight since the wub-wub invasion; it felt nice to just sink back and enjoy a glass of milk with her father.
The thuds of bass had softened since its initial attack; now it existed only as a soft background noise, like a choir of electronic crickets, though it was still enough to annoy the sleep-deprived Octavia. She looked into her father’s dimly lit eyes, staring into the darkness of their living room, viewing it in a perspective he’d never seen before.
“So how’s my little filly doing?” he asked out of the darkness.
“Father, I told you not to call me that. I’m not a filly anymore,” she answered.
“Ah that’s right, I forgot,” he mumbled.
“But to answer your question, I’m a bit agitated.”
“And why’s that?”
“That music coming from next door. I can’t fall asleep with that noise.”
“Ah, that? That’s what got me up in the first place as well. Some ponies can be so inconsiderate, don’t you think?” His gaze became more intense. “But that’s not all, is it Octavia?”
“Huh?”
“There’s more to it than just that music. I’m your father, I can tell. What’s troubling you?”
She was surprised at how quickly he’d infiltrated her inner thoughts, like some sort of psychic pony. “Well, i-it’s nothing, really.”
“It’s not nothing Octavia. Ever since we told you about the new school, you’ve been more withdrawn than I’ve ever seen you. I don’t like seeing my daughter depressed like that.”
She gave in. There was no way to stop this until she spilled the beans.
“I… I don't want to go to school tomorrow. No, I don't want to go to school ever.”
“So that’s it.” Being the calculating stallion that he was, he already knew that was the reason; he just needed her to admit it before they could make any progress.
“I don’t like how I have to go to this new school with all those other less educated foals. It’s not fair for me to have to do that. I’m better than they are.”
He let out a soft chuckle. “Well that’s a bit egotistical, if I may say so.”
“But it’s true father! I’ve already taken those classes; I even remember the pictures on the covers. And they were easy! Why can’t I go to a music school like back in Germaney?”
“It’s just the law honey, I can’t do anything about it.”
“Why do Equestrian laws have to be so difficult? It’s not fair!”
Her father let out a short sigh. “Octavia, you can’t go along in life on just music alone. You might get bored with some of the material, but I think you’ll like school here. The ponies here are certainly friendlier than the ones back in Germaney. You’ll make friends before you know it.”
“That’s nice, but I don’t plan on making friends anytime soon.”
He understood she was nervous about starting school, but he was genuinely surprised at this. “Now what on earth do you mean by that?”
“You know what I mean. You’re a musician. We can’t make any friends, especially if we’re always travelling to new places like you do.”
“Now don’t be ridiculous. Friends are the best things a pony could ever have. I pity the one who has to go through life without them. Musicians don't, that’s for sure.”
“I meant lasting friends, not somepony you just met for the first time and happened to be a little extra friendly with.”
“Octavia, you make it sound like I’ve never had a friend in my entire life. You make it sound like you haven’t either.”
“But I haven’t.”
“What about all those fillies back in Germaney?”
“They weren’t my friends. I just knew them. I honestly don't plan on contacting them ever again, especially if its going to take away time from my practicing. ”
“Is that so?”
“I can’t make any friends, I know I can’t. If I’m going to be a talented musician like you, then I can’t waste time with something like friends. If I’m going to be the best I can possibly be, then I…”
He brought his hoof to meet his daughter’s mouth, insisting that she let him speak his thoughts. “Listen Octavia. In the music business, it’s a tough life. You’re always travelling and practicing with other ponies you don’t know. And it’s true; after every recital you’ll probably never see most of them ever again. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make friends. Our lives are difficult, and without anypony to help us through them, it makes it that much more difficult. Don’t isolate yourself Octavia. Give the ponies here a chance.”
Octavia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. For a moment, she questioned if she heard her father correctly. What he was saying went against everything she’d assumed about the art of music, at least in the realm of acquaintance making. She pondered for a few seconds, then hung her head down in realization.
No. It clashed too much with what she had clung so closely to her entire life. After all, what gave him the right to say such things? She knew all too well; her father never had any friends that he had over, no fellow stallions he ever hung out with. How could she listen to his words, and even try putting them into practice, when her entire life she’d been told the exact opposite? How could HE, of all ponies, say these things? She blew it off as just the fatigue talking.
Besides, what the hay could friends possibly do for you?
However, in a less than moment new thoughts bombarded her psyche like a mental meteor shower, smashing against her ideas. This was her father that had said that, and while that supported the idea that it was false, it also supported the idea of it being true. He’d never let her down before. All his advice, all his musings, everything he said, she kept with her and was regarded as the truth. She didn’t go so far as to write down everything he said; that would just be plain silly. But how could she not listen to him now, of all times, when she could tell he truly cared about her well being?
So many conflicting thoughts battled within her mind. She couldn’t stand to try to think about this now; she was already tired enough as it was, and doing so would only add to her exhaustion. She threw her head back on the backboard of the sofa, putting the off the thoughts till another day.
She reached back to the table to pick up her glass of milk; periodic sips had left it half-full. The liquid cascaded down her throat, washing away what was left of her worries.
Her father’s gaze shifted from her back to the darkness of the living room. For the longest while they sat completely silent before he renewed the conversation.
“Octavia, what do you think?”
She hadn’t expected him to restart the conversation so abruptly. She was having a great time just looking into his eyes. “Well, I like the style. It’s very modern, it’s spacious, has…”
“I didn’t mean the house. I meant about the move.”
“What do you mean by that, father?”
He downed a quick swig of milk, wiping his lips before answering.
“I want to know your opinion on the matter. I know it wasn’t fair of me for just making my decision without your or your mother’s consent, and I’ve been constantly regretting that. I know you hate me for it. You just said yourself how you’d prefer a Germane school.”
“Don’t worry about that father, I understand. You did it for us, I know you did.”
“Well, that might not be true.”
“Huh?”
“You already know that I will now be the second violin of the Equestrian Orchestra, right?”
“Right.”
He hesitated for a moment, before forcing himself to continue. “The truth is, there was actually another position that was offered to me. By the Germane National Orchestra. They offered me the first seat, and the pay was much better. But I chose the position here.”
Octavia had no idea her eyes could widen as much as they did in that moment. “Wh-why on earth would you?”
His gaze intensified. “I hated Germaney. It was selfish of me, but I couldn’t stand to live there another day. Everypony there was so rude, so snobby. I didn’t want to raise you in a dreary place like that. I really just wanted to make you as happy as you can be.” His gaze fell to the carpet floor. “But just now, you made me realize that was just my opinion. I didn’t even ask you your thoughts, or your mother’s; I basically forced you both to go along with it, using the excuse that we were hurting for money. I had no idea that you’d be so upset because of it. It’s pointless to do it now, but I have to get this out of my system. It’s been killing me Octavia. I’m so, so sorry.”
“I’m not upset father. To be honest, I really didn’t like it there either.”
He looked at his daughter in disbelief. “Really?”
“Yes. The school system there was the only thing I liked about it. I completely agree, it was too dreary there for my liking.”
She gently nuzzled his face, reassuring the brooding stallion of his decision. His grin returned once more for the first time that night. In return for his words of wisdom, her simple reassurance seemed trifling in comparison, at least to her. But the look on his face attested otherwise.
“Thank you. You don’t know much of a relief that is.” Under cover of perpetual night, he gave her a peck on the cheek. “I love you Octavia.”
“I love you too father.”
She was going to sleep well tonight.