Vinyl scratch sat in the booth right at the back of the bar, the one that practically nopony ever went in, because it was dark and full of spiders. Vinyl didn’t mind the dark, and the spiders had been cleared out with a brush of her hoof. A candle kept the table lit just enough for the DJ to see by, but not much else, and a glass of scotch rested on the table, the ice slowly melting into the finely aged whiskey. But the unicorn’s focus was on the blank piece of paper lying on the table in front of her, and the quill held in her magical grasp.
Hey Tavi, she wrote, and almost immediately scrubbed it out.
Dear Octavia, she began again, and was more satisfied with it.
I guess I owe you an apology. Okay, I owe you a lot more than an apology, but this will have to do for now. Look, I know I’ve screwed up. I know I’m not the easiest pony to live with. So, let me count the ways in which I’ve made a discordant mess of your life right now.
One: I broke your favourite bow. I know, you told me never to touch it unless it was an extreme emergency, but I was lazy and couldn’t find the practice bow you told me that I could use. I was in a hurry, though. I needed to hear what a melody I was working on sounded like on a string instrument and... Octavia, I swear I’m not trying to make excuses.
So, number two. I tried to hide the fact that I broke your bow, and damaged your violin. I should have just told you when you got home. But instead, I freaked out, and hid them both.
Fault number three: I made a complete mess of the music room, and not just my corner. I know you tolerate my mess as long as it’s contained, but what I did broke that rule into a million little pieces. I mean, I knew you were going to be out of town for a while, so I figured that I could allow myself to have a bit more mess, and then clean it up before you got home. I swear, I didn’t intend for it to go that far.
And finally, fault number four: I promised you when you left for that concert that I’d get your spare cello over to Vincenzo’s. I kind of forgot, in the rush of me accidentally making a mess out of the music room, and then accidentally breaking your favourite bow.
I know you’re probably still mad at me. And you’ve got every right to be, Octavia. I completely screwed things up this time, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you never let me touch another of your instruments ever again. But can we please go back to being friends again, Tavi? I’ll do whatever you want to make it up to you; I just want my friend back. Please?
Really really really sorry,
Vinyl.
[Time]
Reading over the letter once more to make sure it sounded right, Vinyl then rolled it up, downed the rest of her drink, and headed towards the apartment where she normally lived, and hopefully would again, if Tavi didn’t decide to kick her out permanently. Picking out Octavia’s window was pretty easy-the cellist had a habit of sleeping with her window open, even in the dead of winter. Vinyl took a breath to steady herself, and then levitated the roll of paper up and through the window. Vinyl waited hopefully for a few minutes after letting the letter drop inside the room, but Octavia was either not in the room, or asleep.
And so Vinyl walked away, sliding her shades down over her eyes, and trying to ignore the biting cold of the snow under her hooves, and desperately hoping that she could find somewhere warm to spend the night while she waited for Octavia’s hopefully positive response.