As Lyrica took a taxi back to her apartment, she wondered why the others had only been momentarily confused by her suggestion of attack.
I suppose they've been playing music for longer than I thought. It is a shame though... She started singing to herself.
"It's such a shame, it's such a shame, how we beat ponies for their fame. And is it fair, no it's not fair, but darling, I have ceased to care..." She continued this song all through her ride home, sometimes starting over or veering off, never being quite finished. When Lyrica was dropped off at her home, she sat down on her couch and practiced her guitar, then she got up and made a cup of tea. She finished the novel she had started, and put another VHS in her TV. She had bought all the most popular band tapes at a discount video store.
"Raven and the Songbirds, another premier band of Ponyville," she muttered, "and I suppose I'll have to fight them next." She put a pot of boiling water on for spaghetti, and pulled some garlic bread out of her freezer and placed it in the oven. Her phone rang, and she picked up.
"Hello, this is Lyra Heartstrings. As you might have surmised, your performance was cancelled because we found another band, which took your place. That band has been... incapacitated, so you will still be playing the show this weekend," said Lyra. Lyrica smiled, tucking a strand of hair away from her face.
"Oh, that's excellent, Mrs. Heartstrings. But I do hope the other band recovers soon," she said. And then it was her turn to hang up on Lyra. She slammed the phone down, attempting to make the most audible click possible.
Click, click, click, CLICK! HA! Lyrica grinned triumphantly, and a sudden burst of inspiration came to her.
"When I call, you don't always pick up the phone, or a short conversation, but after that I'm on my own. I know you have a job to do, but I just want to work with you. How should I know what makes you tick? You're boring me, you make me sick! I wait for you, you don't wait for me, I tire of all of this ennui. Hang up, hang up, hang up. All I hear is your answering machine. Hang up, hang up, hang up. You say, can't you leave me in peace? I just want to be serene. But I just want to talk, or else I'm going to scream..." She decided she would tell the band about her new song at their next practice, being certain that it would be well received. She practiced her guitar, trying to put a tune to her new song, and then glanced up at a tack hole on her wall where Vinyl's photo had hung. She realized it was only one in a sea of holes in her wall, all formerly photos of friends. Only a weathered family picture remained.
Well, you can't make friends in this business. Ponies do what they do to get ahead, and then you hate them for it. All the same, I am a bit lonely, I ought to go out and meet some ponies. Social opportunities are scarce in Ponyville, but I'm sure I can find something. She set her dinner on the table, put on a scarf, and set out to try to meet a friend. After some discreet asking around, Lyrica found that a party would be happening that weekend, for the birthday of somepony named Berry Punch. Though Lyrica had never met Berry Punch, it was an open party, hosted by some Pinkie Pie in a meadow bordering the Everfree Forest. This she learned through badgering a slightly intoxicated mare named Bottlecap about social opportunities in the area. Lyrica had finished this by ducking her head and running away, yelling that nopony was to know of their interaction.
She came home to find that her food was cold, and she put it in the oven. She made her bed, stomped several ants, and then idled around the house. Unfortunately, when she came back to her meal, she found that it was slightly burned.
"Curses. Well, tomato sauce fixes everything," she said. True to her word, she poured copious amounts of jarred tomato sauce (which she had not bothered to heat up) all over her spaghetti. Thinking on the matter of tomato sauce further, she decided to smear her garlic bread in it, in lieu of butter. She took a bite of the bread. It crunched.
"Delicious," said Lyrica. When she had finished her dinner, she did the dishes, picked up around her apartment, and placed a mousetrap in front of a new hole in her wall. She reread her favorite parts in the novel she had just finished, and then she went to bed early, giggling in her sleep. The next day, band practice had been planned and everypony piled into Lyrica's home that afternoon. They were in a pile specifically because Midnight Strike had knocked them all over.
"Strike, are you honestly a klutz, or are you trying to clobber everypony?" said Noteworthy, extricating himself from the stack of ponies. Midnight Strike did not answer, as she was still assembling her drums, but Fiddlesticks spoke for her.
"I think she's just naturally a mare of destruction, a pony wrecking ball, so to speak," she said, laughing. Midnight turned around.
"Yeah, hilarious or whatever. I'm done setting up my stuff, are you guys ready to go?" she said. After a moment of scrambling to finish assembly, everypony nodded assent. Then Lyrica remembered her song, and raised a hoof.
"Oh, could you all wait just a moment? I wrote this song, and I'd like to show it to you all," she said.
Don't Hang Up On Me
When I call, you don't always pick up the phone, or a short conversation, but after that I'm on my own. I know you have a job, but I just want to work with you. How should I know what makes you tick? You're boring me, you make me sick! I wait for you, you don't wait for me, I tire of all of this ennui. (Chorus: Hang up, hang up, hang up. All I hear is your answering machine. Hang up, hang up, hang up. You say, can't you leave me in peace? I just want to be serene. But I just want to talk, or else I'm going to scream.) When I telephone you, you let the phone ring, if you're answering at all. But I've got no choice, you know I'm in your thrall. Would it kill you to pick up some of those times I call? Mare, you know, you're gonna have to be the death of me! You have to figure out this isn't how it has to be, I tire that we're not getting through, I decree! Chorus. You have me, where you want me, I'm waiting, I'm holding the phone. Can't you do something for me? 'Cause all I hear is dial tone! Chorus (slower reprise). So don't hang up!
Fiddlesticks looked at Lyrica closely, as if she was attempting to scrutinize her personality.
"That was actually very good, but it didn't sound a thing like you," she said.
"Are you saying there's something wrong with that?" Lyrica huffed. Fiddlesticks shook her head.
"No, I liked it. It was just... it was just different. We are more of a classical band though, so we likely won't be playing this," she said. Lyrica nodded, with just a sliver of disappointment, like a splinter stuck in her hoof.