Lyra hated hospitals. The stark white interiors, the smell of chemicals and bodily fluids, the overall somber mood… She shuddered from her seat in the waiting room; they needed something to cheer them up! As she pondered various ways to do this- most of her ideas having to do with live music and paint- a quick series of hoofbeats drew her eyes, and the rest of her gathered friends’, up to the doorway. A dark-coated, pink-mane nurse peeked inside, smiling warmly at the nervous gathering.
“She’s awake,” she explained, “You can come see her for a little bit.”
Cue mini-stampede into the ward, soft curses breaking out as the ponies fought their way into the hospital room. And upon spotting Octavia, Lyra couldn’t help but wince. Octavia’s forehead and cheek were tightly wrapped in bandages, as was a good portion of her barrel and right leg. Her muzzle was darkened with a massive bruise, as was most of her un-wrapped barrel. The rest of Octavia was covered by a whimpering, sniffling Vinyl Scratch.
Octavia blearily looked up at the group, one eye swollen shut; her right hoof was slowly stroking through Vinyl’s mane.
“H-hey…”
It took everything Lyra had not to whimper at the pained, scratchy voice that had replaced Octavia’s smooth, sophisticated one, instead rushing over to hug against her and Vinyl. The little unicorn looked up at her blearily, eyes blood-shot, lips trembling. She had a rather hefty bruise across her own muzzle, but the deepest pain was inside. It didn’t take a mare with a master in psychology that Vinyl Scratch unequivocally blamed herself. And that was something Lyra could not have stand.
“Hey filly,” she whispered softly, making Bon-Bon do a surprised double-check as her marefriend sat next to Vinyl, petting the other side of Vinyl’s mane, “How’re you two holding up?”
Lyra smiled, meeting Vinyl’s eyes as they rose to meet Lyra’s once more.
“I-I’m f-fine… Octavia was-”
“Being foalish and didn’t check my location,” Octavia butted in with a weak smirk, her hoof weakly flicking to silence Vinyl as the DJ’s face began to scrunch in self-loathing, “Vinyl, no.”
There we go, cellomare, Lyra thought with approval, noting the diamond-hard core of Octavia’s eyes.
“L-listen to me… Vinyl,” she whispered, her dainty hoof gently tracing the ragged outline of Vinyl’s ear, “I chose… to go after you. I knew I-I could be hurt. I didn’t care. My friend needed m-me.”
Her muzzle split into a shaky grin, “ ‘sides… he hit like a filly.”
The snrk was loud; it was undignified, and it opened the wellspring. Lyra could only beam as the old Vinyl Scratch broke through in that moment, and draped over Octavia, helpless giggles and tears bubbling out. Octavia giggled back, her fetlock rubbing down Vinyl’s back. Lyra merely grinned at the display, turning to wave back at a bewildered Frederic and Beauty Brass, quickly galloping out of the hospital room. The two needed some privacy, and she was not about to ruin the moment with future plans.
“But what about the concert?” Beauty Brass hissed, her lower lip worried between her teeth.
Lyra could only sigh. What indeed?
*******************
When the rest of the ensemble returned, several hours later, Vinyl was waiting for them on the cushions outside, eyes closed and head bobbing slowly to an unheard beat.
“Vinyl?” Bon-Bon piped up, looking worried, “How’s Octavia?”
“She’s sleepin’,” she replied softly, looking up at the group with a soft smile, “Finally got the painkillers, been out like a light. ...guys, we gotta talk.”
Vinyl’s hoof pawed the linoleum floor beneath her. To say she was nervous was an understatement. What she planned to do… she hadn’t had a gig since the incident. To be honest with herself, Vinyl Scratch wasn’t entirely sure she could conjure up the energy and… life, needed to play her part in the ensemble. Not to mention…
“Octavia can’t play,” Beauty Brass said with a heavy sigh, “There’s no way. We have to cancel the per-”
“No way.”
The DJ did her best to hold in her wince as the musicians looked back at her incredulously. Come on Vinyl, it was do or die time.
“We gotta do the concert, guys,” she whispered, running a hoof through her unruly mane, “For Tavi. For us… heh, for me.”
Vinyl grit her teeth, glaring down at the ground as tears threatened to spill over. And she… absolutely… hated it. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t DJ Pon-3, the sickest disk jockey to hit Equestria since her pal Neon Lights. Hell, she probably couldn’t even stand near Neon now without thinking… he’d… Vinyl’s hoof smacked the linoleum loudly; she ignored the faces of the glaring nurses from the desk. No.
“We can’t let win, guys,” she explained finally, closing her eyes tightly, “They… wanted to break me. And they did.”
She jerked a trembling hoof back at the hospital door.
“Octavia did all she could to bring me back. She risked her freakin’ neck for me, when she didn’t have to, twice.”
The nervous energy building in Vinyl’s limbs was too much, and she quickly began to pace back and forth. The cadence of her hooves on the hard surface helped her think.
“Now, she needs us,” she told the ensemble firmly, looking back up with firm, crimson eyes, “We’ll dedicate the show to Tavi. Might not be as formal as some ponies want, but we’ll open the gig to anypony.”
A thrill rocketed up Vinyl’s spine as an idea formed, and she grinned widely at the nodding, agreeing musicponies.
“Let’s get back to the recording studio. I… have an idea.”
*********************
Were they really this popular? Octavia had been quite stunned to see the size of the crowd packed into the stadium stands; thousands of ponies, screaming and cheering with excitement. High above, cloud seating had been set up for Manehatten’s pegasi population, and by squinting, the injured mare could see even those were packed to capacity. Wow. With a soft smile, Octavia carefully walked to the specially reserved box arranged for her, Lyra, and Bon-Bon. It had taken a good deal of pleading, cajoling, and threatening from all of them to get the doctors to allow Octavia to leave, but they had acquiesced after a time, as long as Octavia continued to come back for physical therapy, and use a wheelcart. The cart was shockingly comfortable, Octavia had to admit, with her hindlegs settled into the plush back of it. The wheels took some getting used to, especially on stairs, but determination had seen the earth pony through. Vinyl was doing this for her, the least she could do in return was make it up some stairs.
Peering over the balcony. Octavia had see the stage set up on the field quite clearly. Vinyl’s table was settled in the center, and… that… was it. The cellist tilted her head uncertainly. Where were the seats for the rest of the ensemble? Surely they would drag them and their instruments on at once… they had done that once in Trottingham, and the resulting pile of pony and instrument had been quite… painful. Glancing questioningly at Lyra, Octavia was not at all mollified by the sly grin on the mint-green unicorn. A surprise was coming. She certainly hoped it was better than the last one.
“This is gonna be great!”
Octavia’s mane practically blinded her as she whipped her head around, eyes widening at the trio quickly trotting inside the box.
“Beauty, Fred, Harpo, what are you doing up here!?” she squeaked, “The show is about to start! You can’t just leave Vinyl up there high and dry!”
“Calm down, Octavia,” Frederic replied in his high-class, soothing tone, “This is apart of the show and, amazingly enough, Miss Scratch’s idea.”
Part of the show? As the lights dimmed, Octavia turned her head back towards the stage just as an eager cheer went up from the audience. It was Vinyl. The little white mare was swiftly making her way towards the table, her trademark glasses settled over her lovely eyes. Octavia couldn’t see her expression from her spot, but Vinyl’s walk seemed… confidant. What was she up to?
“Goooood evenin’, Manehatten!”
The magically amplified voice rumbled through the stadium, the renewed cheers were practically deafening… and Octavia’s smile was near blinding. Vinyl was doing it. She was back in her element, and she could practically feel the energy pouring off her.
Vinyl chuckled softly, waving a hoof to calm the crowd.
“Aight everypony, calm your hooves. The show will start here in a moment. But I gotta say somethin’ first, ‘kay?”
The sigh was soft, but the emotion held in it made Octavia tense back up. Was she getting cold hooves? Was this too much stress? She should get down there, try to-
“A couple weeks ago… I went through a real bad place in my life. I’ll spare ya the details, ‘cause this ain’t the time or the place. But suffice to say, there is no way I’d be standing here, ready to play for you tonight, without one very special pony.”
The crimson eyes bored into Octavia from the stage.
“This concert is dedicated to one of my best friends in Equestria, my ponies. Octavia Philharmonica has stayed by my side through all of this, and to say I’m grateful… ain’t enough.”
White flashed in the lights of the stage as the little mare suddenly beamed, a chuckle bubbling out.
“Alright, my ponies, sorry to get sappy on you there. Are you ready to hear some music?”
The cheer was long, loud, and eager. Hell yes they were ready, but Vinyl was being quite the showmare.
“Are you guys sure?”
But Vinyl was already moving to stand behind the stage, silently laughing as the crowd screaming back, thousands of voices practically pleading with her to start the show, Octavia’s right there among them. She may have ear damage later, but it would be a small price to pay.
“Then let’s get this started, folks! Yo, Tavi! Watch this!”
The lights dropped suddenly, leaving the crowd in darkness. As the cello and violin began to play, Octavia’s eyes widened in surprise. Oh… oh my. The initial start was deceptive, as quick, light beats from Vinyl’s table began to intermingle with the playing, bringing up the speed and power of the piece. Up above, lights, like a multitude of auroras, began to swirl about. Light grey, light blue, yellow… as Octavia looked on, stunned, it was the dark blue and grey that overtook the others, each growing larger and intermingling as their respective instruments played on. The atmosphere was practically electric, and Octavia let out a squee as the violin suddenly burst into a brilliant, fast-paced solo.
She remembered doing this! Vinyl and her had practiced the solo for hours in the studio, before the… incident. She had loved the strength and speed of the piece, and it had left Vinyl nearly drooling as she remixed it in the machine. This… had to be what she had been working on the past few days. The lights were going larger, swirling about each other in time with the beats. The following song turned out to be another major classical piece- one of Beauty’s favorites, with the ensemble playing just behind Octavia as she ‘stole’ the show with her cello- only this time, Vinyl’s beats and magical sounds coaxed it along. The lights were quite grey now, with the yellow, light blue, and purple of her ensemble mingled in, but all encased in a swirling, nearly dizzying cloud of dark blue. It was… magical.
“This is gonna be awesome,” Lyra giggled out, and Octavia blinked back at her in surprise.
What was? This already WAS awesome She-
The tone of the music suddenly changed, harking a change of song, and Octavia quickly looked back down at the stage. Vinyl was flipping a record onto the table with a spin of her hoof, and her tail was flicking eagerly. She looked excited. So why was Octavia nervous? The beat at first, was simple. Small twirls and bass beats as it started, repeating itself a few times, before-
“Hmph. How uncouth.”
“Oh buck me,” Octavia muttered as her own, cultured voice rang out over the stadium.
Not the versus song. That had just been to bring Vinyl’s self-confidence around the ensemble back-
“Some ponies prefer stringed instruments.”
Oh, she was. Octavia had to admit, the solo was very well-played, and she had had fun when Vinyl overlayed another piece of Octavia’s over the original… and then a third, backed up by soft notes from the table itself. The lights above had formed a light blue eighth note, and a swirling, grey-and-pink treble clef. As the cello played, the clef grew to encompass the eighth note. A smile split across Octavia’s muzzle at the sight.
The song roared on, the cello and Vinyl’s table battling playfully back and forth. All around the box, Octavia could see ponies dancing or nodding their heads in beat, having the time of their lives. And from the way the little white mare on stage was bobbing about and waving her hooves, she was too. It was amazing to watch, and a few tears came unbidden to her eyes. This was the Vinyl she wanted to know more of. The self-confidant DJ; the life of the party, of the concerts. She spared a glance back at the lights. She wasn’t entirely sure if Vinyl had meant to do it, or if the magical sparks had drifted closer with the wind. The clef and eighth note were fully entwined, blue and grey swirling together, like two lovers in the sky, putting on a show for the world.
And as the music died down, Octavia lifted herself onto the balcony with her forehooves, even as Lyra and Beauty rushed over to keep her stable. The cellist didn’t care. She didn’t mind her voice dropping its careful groomed Canterlot accent, nor how she might look to the ponies around the box or around the stadium itself. She only cared about her voice carrying down to her best friend on stage.
“WAY TO GO, VINYL!”