My name is Vinyl Scratch. There are a few things you need to know about me. For one thing, I'm pretty much the greatest DJ in Equestria. Two, I'm extremely modest. Three, I despise classical music and musicians. And finally, I've been living a lie for a very, very long time. Me, the real me I guess, is a pony named Staccato Symphony, and is really only recognized because she is the daughter of Starlight Symphony; the greatest violinist Manehattan has ever known. I know what you must be thinking. How can I despise all things classical when my mother was herself one of the greatest classical musicians Equestria has ever known? Am I ashamed of who I am, or was?
It...wasn't always this way. There was a time, a very long time ago, before I had even heard any sort of deejaying, where I loved classical music. I loved my mother, and despite how busy she was she loved me back. She always made time for me no matter how famous she became, or how much time was demanded of her. She always made sure she made time for her little Staccato, even if it meant cutting into her schedule.
Eventually, a few months before she was hospitalized due to her illness, she took me with her when she traveled. Some might call it irresponsible, to take such a young filly on the road when they should be attending school and making friends. I didn't care though, I was able to be with my mom all the time, and nothing could wipe the silly grin I wore on my face off. Not the surprised looks, not the concerned parents, and not even the homework my mom would assign me to make sure I still got a proper education. It was the happiest few months of my life, and I wished it would never end.
...
My father?
Me and my father never saw eye to eye. Don't get me wrong, he was an alright pony I guess. He loved my mom with all his heart, just not me. He always saw me as the mistake. I was not a planned foal you see, so he never really regarded me with the same love and adoration that most parents would have. Growing up, he was hardly around because he worked in Phillydelphia at the steel mills. I was always in the care of a nanny when he was away and mom was busy. Despite not having them around very much, I still loved them, as any child would. And more importantly I never held it against either of them that they had to work a lot, mostly because they made sure that they would come see me when they could. Well, mom would come by every day and play with me. Dad only stopped by occasionally.
Huh? Why do I despise classical musicians? Octy, you have to stop with all the questions or I won't be able to get through this right. But...this was before I met you. You're different than the musicians I knew when growing up. Don't ask how...you just are.
I guess it's just because of how they saw my mom. You and I know the difficulties that come with a celebrity status, and it was no different with her. Apparently her loving my dad, a working class pony that the upper class considered a nopony, was a faux pas already. When you add the announcement that she had become pregnant by this same "nopony", then it causes some ponies to see her differently. They saw her as someone who was teetering on the brink of a collapsed career because they claimed that nopony in the entertainment industry could both keep their stardom and be a good parent.
It didn't affect me too badly until I started touring with my mother, and at the time I didn't really understand why some ponies talked in hushed whispers around her or treated her different from others they considered colleagues. It wasn't until after she was gone that I was able to really brood on my growing up. Like I said though, at the time it didn't affect me too greatly. I was with my mom, and I was the happiest filly you could have imagined.
It was before I started traveling with her that I started to play the violin. She was my role model, and like most fillies, I wanted to be just like her. You can call it fate or luck, but it turns out that I was musically gifted, like my mother. I got my cutie mark for a little miniature concert that I put on for her. It was nothing elaborate or fancy, but I worked hard to make sure that I put on the best show I could for her. I made a little stage, asked Bright Lights (my nanny) to help me choose a pretty dress, and I definitely practiced my music as much as I could. It's almost laughable at the amount of time I put into rehearsing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Greensleeves, and Row Row Row Your Boat, but at the time it was hard. It was worth it though. I didn't even feel the mark appear on my flank because I was too busy relishing in my mother's applause. I loved the violin as a kid, and I loved playing with my mom who would teach me when she could.
I guess it turned sour after she died, but I'll get to that. What was completely devastating to me as a child was the time of her diagnosis to her passing. I saw her change from a vibrant and energetic pony, to someone who could barely move on their own as their strength left them. She lived for two and a half months after being diagnosed, and after a month she wasn't even able to play her instrument properly. After nearly two months she couldn't even lift it. It was devastating to me, seeing her wither away like she was and being powerless to do anything about it. I may have been blissful most of my youth, but I wasn't ignorant. I knew exactly what was going to happen to her, and I knew there was no way I could keep her around for longer.
It was kind of funny really, I was more upset with her condition than she was. Then again, that's how she was. Always smiling, always kind, always looking out for me. She knew that if she were to become upset in front of me, then I would just have that much harder of a time dealing with it. Instead, every time I would visit her in the hospital, she would try to cheer me up. At first she would play for me, songs that were always upbeat and cheerful. She would also pass the time between visits composing music to play for me. It only lasted a short while though.
Eventually, it was me who would play for her, but what I never expected was to be playing on her violin. She gave it to me one day, claiming that her time was nearing and that the instrument shouldn't die along with her. It was that day I became inspired to compose something myself. I'm sure if you've snooped around enough Octy then you've found the recording. She took that recording three days before she passed away. It was the last day I ever saw her alive...
She was so proud of me for composing my own music, so proud she wanted me to play it over and over again. I was happy that she was happy, but at the same time I wish that I could have finished that piece before I played it for her. I was sad that day, sad when they told me I had to leave. I didn't know it was going to be the last time I ever saw her. Then again, what could I have said to her? I told her I loved her with all of my heart, I guess I can rest easy knowing that she knew that.
...Can you...give me a moment? ... Thanks...
...
Sorry, thinking about her sometimes makes me emotional. If it's alright with you, I kind of want to skip the funeral. Not because it's not important, but because it wasn't a good time for me. The entire funeral I spent my time practically hugging the casket and refusing to look anypony in the eye. I honestly believed that they were all there for show and that they weren't mom's friends. Maybe it was the case for some, but I was extremely bitter at the time.
The biggest question everypony seemed to have after the funeral was what would happen to me. A lot of people offered to take me in, but the decision they made seemed to be the obvious one; I was to live with my father from now on. Many ponies thought it was good that I would still be with family, but I wasn't. He never treated me like a daughter, more like a stray that he took in from the streets. He always acted like I owed him for what he should have been doing his entire life, and I grew to hate him. He was not warm, kind, or comforting like a parent should be. He would wake me up every morning before he would go to his job, leave breakfast on the table for me and told me to get my flank to school.
I lived like this for a while, each day missing mom more and more as I grew to dislike my father. I missed the music, the feel of her embrace, and the sound of her voice. It was especially difficult for me because he forbade me from ever playing the violin in the house because it reminded him of her. I think he blamed me for mom's death, as stupid as it sounds. But he was never there for her, so I think whatever notions he has in his head can rot in Tartarus for all eternity.
I guess in a way I can thank him for becoming who I am today. If it's not obvious to you yet, I ran away, though it took me several times to successfully do it. Because I toured with my mom, plenty of ponies knew what I looked like and who I was, which made getting out of the city hard for me. The first few times I was stopped at the train station for trying to buy a one way ticket. Every time they brought me home, my dad would always scold me in front of them. When they were gone however, he would beat me...severely. All he did though was make me want to run away even more, though at the time I was losing hope.
Then I found it. I know you saw it for you to have returned me to who I was. That book was brand new when I was a filly, and I couldn't get my hooves on it fast enough. But nopony could find out I had it or else everyone would be put on high alert for my changed appearance. Nopony could find out, not even the ponies running the bookstore. So I did what I had to; I stole it from the shop and snuck away.
I had to plan my escape perfectly or else I'm pretty sure I would never be able to leave the house again. So I made sure to secretly pack some things away into my saddlebags the night before and stow them away. When my father left for work that morning, I spent the next two hours altering my appearance to find something I liked. The eyes were the toughest part because of how much magic they took, and by the time I was finished I was ready to collapse from exhaustion. But I bucked up and grabbed my things and started galloping to the train station as fast as my hooves could take me.
My disguise worked, and soon I had a one way ticket to Canterlot clutched to my chest as I rode the train there. In the meantime I had to come up with a new name at some point, because even mentioning the last name Symphony would spell disaster for me. For the time being, I decided to go by Vinyl. Don't ask me how I came up with the name, it was so long ago that I can't even remember. Maybe it was because of the record that I had taken with me, the one of my song I played for mom. Either way, I had a name and a new face, I just had to start a new life.
When I got to Canterlot, I didn't really have a plan. I was young, so my entire plan only went as far as escaping from my father. I had no idea what I was going to do about food or shelter, and for a while I didn't do anything about it except for what I could. I slept on benches and under bridges, I played my violin in parks for bits to pay for what little food I could afford, and I managed to dodge most questions about where I was living and why I was so dirty all the time. Until one day, I must have been either too tired or too hungry to think about lying, but I was caught. Instead of reporting a lost child to the authorities, the pony offered to take me to the Canterlot Orphanage.
I didn't know what to say. Sure it was an orphanage, but it was a place to stay, it offered food, and most importantly, my father wasn't there. I must have been crying tears of happiness as she led me there.
...Yeah, that's where we are now. This is where I grew up for the most part. This is the birthplace of Vinyl Scratch and DJ Pon-3. And I will be damned if I let anypony talk bad about the ponies who ran the place. They were the kindest souls I had encountered since my mother, and they always made sure that I and the other kids were provided for, and at least got something for our birthdays and Hearthswarming. That's where I got my trademark shades, it was a birthday gift the year before I was allowed to leave on my own.
I...guess that's everything. Everything important that is. I...really owe you an apology Octy, you didn't deserve the abuse I put you through or the drama I've been causing since this whole fiasco started. I guess I was always afraid of you finding out who I was while you were in my body, but I guess it's more my fault that enough hints were dropped.
...
No, I don't hate you...as...crazy as it sounds, I consider you a friend. You're the first pony I've met in a long while that never treated me different because of who I am or who I was. I just...I dunno. I don't trust many ponies, I never have. But you're different. Maybe Luna was right about us being friends after all...well at least for me.
...
Thanks Octy...I'm glad I was able to talk to you about this. You have no idea how big of a relief it is that there's someone I can talk to about anything.
...
Can...I have a hug Octy?
...
Thank you...this has meant more to me than you can ever know...