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// Evening Star (Octavia) 
// Story: Special Request 
// by Poetic Justice 
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	I didn't really recognize her at first. She was just another customer. The only reason she drew my attention was because that rather annoying bell my parents decided to attach to the front door. If I remember right, my younger brother, Painted Sketch,  was the one that greeted her and showed her to her seat. I don't know what she did after that, I put my focus back to the piece I was performing with the small band that played with me on the stage. Although the restaurant is run by my family, the band is made up of friends who knew my parents, and need a place to practice. I'm the only pony that plays an instrument of any kind. However, if you asked the youngest of us three, he would say he is rather talented at the triangle.
The piece I was playing was not difficult, especially for me. It was only four different notes. I was next to the piano, which was situated to the right and further back from the other five. I would occasionally look up to see the crowd. Any good musician knows how to adjust according to the audience's emotion. Unfortunately, the audience was rather busy with personal conversations and food. There was, however, one pony that maintained eye contact with the band, that white unicorn. I can't say for sure if she was truly  looking at us though, she had obnoxious purple glasses on. Her head was looking my way though. 
At the end of the piece, we all stood up and bowed. We did get some applause, but I'm sure that the majority of the ponies there didn't notice. I couldn't help but look back at the white unicorn, I knew that I knew her somewhere, I just couldn't tell. When I turned my head back to see, she was looking at the menu. Painted Sketch likes to tease me, saying that I looked disappointed. I deny that. There was nothing to be disappointed about. The white unicorn was there to eat, not admire the band. Why else would she enter a restaurant?
I was used to sitting in the back room for an hour or two before being called back to the stage. I couldn't practice my cello, the sound would enter the main room. I usually just read novels or even slept on the slower nights. I had enough time to take a sip of water before my elder brother, Stylish Treasure came into the room.
"Octavia, you're wanted on stage."
I almost choked on the water. "Already?"
"Yes. They want to hear you play 'EveningStar'."
I was certainly surprised. I was familiar with the song. It was exclusively cello, and one of the first songs I've learned. 
"I'll be there in a second." I put the glass down and walked back on stage. I was alone up there. I cannot recall a time before this has happened. I grabbed my cello, which was still next to the piano near the back, and placed it near center stage. Before taking my place, I scanned the crowd. Nopony was looking at the stage. Well, except one, that white unicorn. I bowed, then assumed my position. I was used to closing my eyes while I perform, it wasn't an ego. I grew up learning that the greatest musicians are not ones that can hit one-hundred notes in five seconds, the greatest ones are the ones who can mess up every five seconds, but no pony will notice. I closed my eyes to pay more attention to the music. 
At the end of my piece, I opened my eyes. Nopony applauded. A few fillys and colts stared blankly at me, so I guess I can't say I got no attention. I looked back to the white unicorn. At least she applauded at the last song. Sadly, she was not there. I walked back to the waiting room. The rest of the night was spent with my lying on the couch and sleeping. I'm not sure if I was wanted on stage, but I surely would like to thank the other ponies who played with me, for not disturbing me.
The next day, as soon as I left university, I went straight to the restaurant, as usual. When I got there, there was, quiet literally, nopony there. Stylish and Sketch were sitting at one of the tables near the stage. Stylish was drawing in his notebook, no doubt it was a clothing design he came up with. Sketch was on her phone. My parents were discussing something behind the bar. It was nothing that I would worry about, so I paid no mind to it. 
I went to the waiting room. The band was there, of course. The five of them sat in a circle playing some card game while they talked about what they did that morning. I laid onto the couch and closed my eyes. I would have loved to practice my cello, but then I would have both my siblings shouting at me to be quite, then my parents would shout at them. It's a vicious circle that I'd prefer not starting. 
I heard the bell, followed by my family shuffling around.
"Welcome!"
"Can we help you?"
"Really?"
Hoofsteps approached.
"Can we get you anything to eat?"
"I said, can we get you anything to eat?" Slightly louder. I could tell it was my mother.
"If you're going to keep up this behavior, I will have to ask you to leave this building!" I'm positive the people next door were calling the guards as I speak.
"Octavia." My brother came into the room. "Evening Star. Now." He left before I could respond.
I sighed as I took my place on stage. The cello was placed behind the piano. It took a few seconds for me to find it. Once I did though, I got a good look at the pony that came in. I didn't know who I expected, I'm not even sure if I was surprised to see who it was. It was her, that white unicorn from yesterday. I turned my head to my cello, then played the same piece as yesterday.
When I finished, I did feel some relief, since she was still there. Her purple glasses were aimed at me. I was never nervous on stage, don't get me wrong. However, there was something odd about her face. As I walked back to the waiting room, I looked back to the white unicorn. I froze in my tracks. My mother brought her a cake, but that was not what caught my attention. As my mother put the dessert down, I saw the while unicorn remove something from her ear. At first, I thought it was an earring or something of that nature. However, when she pulled something else from the ear that was on the side of the face facing me, I knew what it was. She was wearing ear buds. I fought back tears as I ran back to the waiting room.
The next few days was the same thing. She would come in, my mother would take her order, then she would have my brother fetch me to play that damned annoyance of a song. It was an embarrassment. It got to the point where the other members of the band would not bother me after I played that piece. They would leave me as I silently cried to myself on that couch. Day after day, like clockwork. I show up, I wait in the waiting room, play one or two songs with the band, then she would show up. Everytime I finished, I watched her pull those things from her ears. 
Friday showed up. I was thankful. Friday was our busiest day, and with the addition of events happening downtown, our restaurant would be flooded with upper class ponies that would actually enjoy listening to the orchestral band. I was so excited, I actually purchased a bow tie on the way to the restaurant. I was a few minutes late because of this, but thankfully no song that was requested needed a cello. As soon as I entered the waiting room, my brother was waiting for me.
"When they are done, Evening Star."
"But, everytime I play-"
"I don't care."
"But."
"No."
"But!-"
He left. That's normally how "discussions" went on with my family, I was used to it. Before the band returned, somepony else came through the door.
"You must tell your friend that she is no longer welcome in our establishment!" It was mother.
"Who are you talking about?"
"That white unicorn that orders my cake everyday. She never eats it!"
"I assure you she is not my friend."
"Regardless, after you perform your piece, you tell her!" With that, she left the room.
When the band returned, I took the stage. My cello was already set up for me. I looked back to the band. The piano player, the father of the group, met my eyes and smiled. 
I closed my eyes as I took the cello into my hands. I didn't need to focus anymore. I played the notes the same way as I had the last few days. I opened my eyes as I held out the last note. The new ponies applauded, but I didn't mind them. I looked to her. She had her purple glasses faced my way. When I put my cello down, she looked down to her cake, then put her hooves to her ears. However, I didn't go back to the waiting room. I stepped off the front of the stage, and walked directly to her table. She did not notice me, not until I placed...more accurately slammed...my hooves on the table. She looked up to me, startled. 
"You have some nerve!" I shouted at her. 
The entire building was silent.
"Every day, you come in here and ask me to play. Why? You wear those ear plugs every time you request me to perform. I am not some pony that was brought from the streets to play for a few bits a day. Have you seen my cutie mark? I am a musical genius. I've practiced everyday since I could stand on my hooves. You humiliate me by coming in here, ordering food, which you do not eat, and watching me play a simple song with plugs in your ears. What kind of joke is this to you, because it is not funny!"
I was breathing rapidly. I've never raised my voice like that. My entire body was aching. I hated that feeling, but I needed to maintain my ground. I couldn't go back on what I said. I needed an answer.
"Wow. Never knew you could shout like that." The white unicorn removed her glasses. Past her blue hair, I saw her red-violet eyes. They were rather beautiful.
"I don't like classical music." She said.
"W-What?"
"Yea. I hate it. I like more exciting stuff."
I took my hooves off the table and placed them on the ground. I'm sure my eyes were the size of my head and my face was more red than the cherry on my mother's cake.
"I-I...So why do you come here everyday and ask me to play?"
"Well, you're like, the smartest girl in music class at university. I couldn't just approach you, I would've felt like an idiot. So I come here and ask you to perform so I could see you."
"But what about the cake?"
"Don't get me wrong, I like chocolate, but this thing, this is too much. The old mare said she'd kick me out if I didn't order food, and this is the cheapest thing on the menu."
I didn't know how to respond. I ran to the waiting room. The band was not there, fortunately. I locked the door as I passed through it. I expected to hear somepony pounding on it. Father, Mother, one of my siblings, or even the guards. I thought I was embarrassed when I played that song everyday. I was wrong. This is what embarrassment felt like. I won't lie, I cried. I'm not sure what over though. It could have been raising my voice, disrespecting a customer, humiliating myself in front of such esteemed guests, or maybe, the possibility I lost a friend. 
I spent hours in that room alone. It was past closing by the time I left. The lights were shut off and all the tables were cleaned. All except one. The one she was sitting at. When I passed it, there was something on the table. Upon closer inspection, it was a piece of paper. It read "Vinyl Scratch" and her phone number. What was more surprising was what was under the piece of paper. It was a plate, with remnants of a certain chocolate cake. I never tried my mother's sweets, and there was a piece on the plate. I got a fork from a clean table and placed the piece of cake in my mouth.


It was dreadful.