Truth or Dare

by Alexandrite Ward


It Ain't Over Yet

A few weeks later and Vinyl still was uneasy after the Truth or Dare incident.

“You’ve been acting strange and distant since I said that we’d slept together.”

Vinyl turns and scowls at her. “C'mon, do we really have to talk about that?”

Octavia glares at her. “Vinyl.”

Vinyl sighs exaggeratedly. “Alright fine. I’m sorry, okay? It’s just weird, we live together and we work together-”

“And that’s never bothered you before.” Octavia cocks her head inquisitively, studying Vinyl’s face as if she can read the reason that Vinyl’s being such a knob in her eyes or the tension around her mouth. “It was years ago, Vinyl. I fail to see why you’re behaving as if it was yesterday.”

Vinyl exhales, forcing the tension from her body, placing a hoof over her eyes. “Sorry. I just freaked, I guess. It was just a dumb drunken mistake that happened, and it doesn’t have to be a big deal.” She glares at her friend. “But you’re explaining to everyone that we’re not secretly married, or whatever.”

“Fine. Are you done being idiotic, now?”

“I’m not-”

“Vinyl.”

Vinyl rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m done.”

“Good,” Octavia says, straightening and heading to the door, “because I have a date tonight and I don’t have time to deal with your neediness.”

“I’m not needy,” Vinyl grumbles, turning and heading to her room, trying not to dwell on the first part of Octavia’ sentence. A date? Since when? And with whom? And while she’s at it, since when does Vinyl care?

It’s not like Octavia never dates, although she definitely doesn’t do it as frequently or as obviously or as loudly as Vinyl. But she does occasionally go out in the evenings, and on occasion she even stumbles in the next morning, her hair sticking up every which way, mumbling a hello to Vinyl where she sits at the kitchen table before going straight to the shower.

For some reason, over the years, they’ve developed an unspoken agreement in which neither of them discusses their conquests. Relationships, sure, but it’s not like either of them has had one of those recently.
But now that she thinks about it, Octavia has had a few more late nights than usual in the past few weeks. Has she been seeing someone? Is it getting serious?

She opens her mouth to ask, but then Octavia says “And yes, before you ask, I most likely won’t be home tonight, so don’t wait up” and turns and heads out the door, making it clear that the conversation is over.
-----
Vinyl, alone in her room after Octavia has left, lets her mind wander inexplicably to that night, three years ago, when close quarters and mutual attraction and Vinyl’s good friend Appaloosa brand Apple Cider had pushed them somewhere they’d never gone before, and hadn’t since.

It had been Octavia who started it, she thinks. They’d been arguing about the merits of Arwenny over Eowynny and why (in Vinyl’s opinion), Arwenny was useless. Then Octavia - the sore loser - had reached across the too-small distance between them and poked her hard in the side, and Vinyl had made an embarrassingly high pitched noise that made Octavia collapse into a fit of laughter, crinkles all around her eyes and her lips pulled back in a gummy smile. And then Vinyl had shoved her, but the good ol’ cider had thrown her off balance and made the room tilt alarmingly, and Vinyl fell against Octavia’ side. She could feel the heat of her, pressed in one long line beneath Vinyl, the jut of her hipbone against Vinyl’s own. Their faces were suddenly too close together, and Octavia wasn’t laughing anymore, her eyes flickering down to linger on Vinyl’s lips.

She’s jolted back to the present when the piercing sound of a dog barking outside comes through her open window. She’s alone in the house she shares with her best friend, who is out with her new marefriend Cherry Spices, and Vinyl has no right to hate her, no right at all, but she does. Not as much as she hates herself, though, nothing can compare to that. she thinks that she really is a great liar, but maybe the lie she’s told herself all these years since that night is the worst of all, and if only she hadn’t had to play that stupid game on air, and if only she hadn’t been forcefully reminded of that night, she might have been able to keep believing it.

Yep. This is all Derpy’s fault.
-----
A few weeks after “the incident,” as Vinyl had labeled it, she picks up Neon Lights for their Saturday night ritual of salad and cider at The Canterlot Corral. Ever since Neon Lights got a job as the head DJ for the biggest club in the city, they’ve made a habit of hanging out once a week without fail to catch up, whatever else happens to be going on in their lives.

Vinyl’s walking along next to Neon Lights, who is in the middle of telling her a story about the new mare he’s totally gone on, when Vinyl spots the billboard out of the corner of her eye. Ignoring Neon Lights startled protests, Vinyl runs in front of him and over to the park located in front of the sign.

Vinyl skids to a stop and stares up at the bold white billboard, her mouth hanging open and eyes wide in disbelief. Neon Lights joins her a moment later, stepping up beside his friend with a similar expression of astonishment on his face.

In bold blue letters, the words The Octavia and Vinyl Show: The Pon3 Mix stretch across the bottom of the advertisement, and there’s Vinyl’s sexy mug, her lips pursed and eyebrow raised invitingly. Vinyl remembers the photoshoot they’d had a couple weeks back, and how she’d offered the guy her pose as a joke. The photographer had caught Octavia mid eye-roll, her forearms crossed over her chest in a typical moment of exasperation. Their backs are pressed together and Octavia’ head is tilted towards Vinyl’s so that it’s obvious to anyone who the object of her contempt is. But somehow, underneath the disapproval, there’s also a familiar affection that makes a smile tug insistently at the corners of Vinyl’s mouth, her chest filling with warmth as she looks up at the sign.

But the words on the leftmost side of the ad cancel all of that out, wiping the smile off of Vinyl’s face and replacing it with a burning flush and a gaping disbelief.

Are they, or aren’t they?

“Oh Celestia,” she groans with feeling, placing a hoof over her eyes. " Derpy!” Who in Celestia put that mare in charge any way?

Things had just settled down with Octavia after “the incident,” during which Octavia had blurted out to their thousands of listeners that she and Vinyl had had sex. Live. On Air. Which, by the way, had been Derpy’s fault too, since she was the one who started that stupid game of Truth or Dare in the first place. But now… now everything is going to be flipped on its head again, all because of this stupid billboard.

Neon Lights casts a sidelong look down at his friend. “I don’t think it’s as bad as you think. I mean, it’s good marketing, you’ve gotta give them that.”

Vinyl rolls her eyes. Sure, the stunt Octavia had pulled had boosted their ratings, increased the number of listeners (particularly of the young, female variety) who now tuned into their show, always waiting intently for Vinyl and Octavia to slip and reveal the true nature of their relationship. Which, regardless of how much Vinyl might wish it could be, was not the true nature of it at all.

“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s gonna make things tough for Octavia and me,” she grumbles. “Besides, Octavia has a marefriend, or didn’t you notice? How do you think she’s gonna feel about that sign?”

Vinyl spins on her heel and heads back to where they came, silently swearing along the way. Neon Lights follows more slowly, taking time to occasionally look back at the sign. He catches up but her eyes don’t leave Vinyls, boring into the side of her face.

“Sweet Celestia, what?”

Neon Lights studies her intently before answering. “Why does this bother you so much? Ponies have thought you and Octavia were together before and you were never this freaked.”

“It’s nothing, Neon Lights. Hurry up, I’m starving.”

Neon Lights makes no move to speed up his walking. “Vinyl, I know you. You can’t lie to me.”

Vinyl stays stubbornly silent, dropping her eyes to glare at the ground.

“Is it about Cherry Spices?”

Vinyl freezes and Neon Lights must see something on her face because he crows in triumph. “It is! You don’t like Cherry Spices!”

“It’s not that I don’t like her, per se,” Vinyl protests, because it isn’t. Octavia had brought Cherry Spices over for dinner a few days after Vinyl had found out there was a Cherry Spices in the first place. She was sweet and friendly and pretty, with wide green eyes and wavy red hair that fell softly around her face. She was even a little bit funny, and Vinyl had actually liked her a lot. If she were a better pony, she might actually want Octavia to settle down with this mare, move out, get married, have kids and the cat she’s always wanted but can’t have because Vinyl’s allergic.

Cherry Spices with her pretty face and her kind smile and her bakery, and being way better for Octavia than Vinyl could ever be. Cherry Spices and her sweetness that’s impossible to hate, even though Vinyl tried. Really, really hard.

“Then what is it?” Neon Lights asks, his voice is still amused. “Gonna finally admit that you’re in love with Octavia?”

“What?!” Vinyl yelps, her eyes snapping up to meet Neon Lights’. Her heart is pounding about a million beats a minute, her blood roaring in her ears, and she knows that her face must be flushed scarlet. “I am not in love with Octavia.”

Her jerk best friend barks a laugh. “Sure, Vinyl. Whatever you say. Next you’re gonna try to tell me you don’t like music.”
“I’m not,” Vinyl grumbles, stubbornly refusing to meet her best friend’s eyes. Sure, she spends a lot of time thinking about that night they accidentally slept together, now that she’s been forcefully reminded and the floodgates are open. But wanting to jump somepony isn’t the same as being in love with them. Octavia is hot, but she and Octavia are friends. It doesn’t mean that Vinyl’s in love with her.

“Listen, Vinyl,” Neon Lights says patiently, “you can keep lying to yourself if you want, but we’ve known for a long time, okay? Everypony you know does. I bet if you even asked any of your last ex’s, they’d say the same.”

Vinyl’s head snaps up. “Everypony knows?” she asks incredulously, forgetting to deny it in her shock. “And none of you thought it would be a good idea to clue me in to this vital piece of information?”

Neon Lights laughs, dimples flashing in his cheeks - really, her best friend is sickeningly cute some times, and Vinyl doesn’t know why he doesn’t have mares lining up around the block for him.

“I dunno, Vinyl, I guess we just thought you were smart enough to figure that one out on your own,” Neon Lights says, reaching out to bump his friends side, mockingly consoling. “Looks like we overestimated you a little, there.”

Vinyl hits him.

“Ow, Vinyl! Take it easy!” Neon Lights glares, rubbing his side grumpily. “All of us kinda thought you were already together, at least until Octavia started bringing Cherry Spices around. We were just waiting for you to make it official. You just work, you know?”

Vinyl knows. There’s no way they could’ve lived together and worked together for the past eight years otherwise. Sure, Octavia yells at Vinyl for leaving their house a fucking sty and Vinyl might do it purposefully just to pay her back for all the times Octavia drank the last of the juice and left the empty carton in the fridge so Vinyl doesn’t know to buy more. And maybe Vinyl flips out at Octavia when Octavia buys crappy cider instead of the good stuff, which she knows Vinyl hates, and Octavia just rolls her eyes and says that it’s cheaper and they’re not millionaires and tells her not to drink it if she doesn’t like it. In fact, Octavia might roll her eyes nearly every time Vinyl opens her mouth, but Vinyl knows her well enough to see the humor underneath the expression, and maybe Vinyl tries extra hard to get a rise out of her because it’s just as endearing as her smile.

And sweet Celestia on a tortilla. She’s in love with Octavia.

“Son of Celestia,” Vinyl moans, placing a hoof over her face in frustration.

“There it is,” Neon Lights says quietly.

“I screwed up, Neon Lights,” Vinyl says into her hoof. “I messed up bad.” This whole ridiculous situation was awful enough when she just thought she really wanted to screw around with Octavia, but this? Being in love with her best friend who, oh yeah, has a marefriend? This is a thousand times worse.

She drops her hoof suddenly and moves faster. “Pick up the pace, Neon. There’s a bottle of cider at The Canterlot Corral with my name on it.”
-----
“Cherry Spices saw the ad for the show,” Octavia says the next morning after making them breakfast, twiddling her empty fork as she squints down at her apple slices as if they’ve mortally offended her.

Aha. Vinyl was right, tired from the night before after coming home at two am and crashing on the couch from drinking waaaaay to much cider, but still right; she did have a problem with the insinuation on the ad that she and Octavia are together or whatever. She thinks that if her head were pounding less and she was less exhausted, she’d probably be feeling pretty triumphant right about now.

"I saw that same ad yesterday as a matter of fact," Vinyl rasps, bringing a glass of water to her lips.

Octavia fixes her with a sharp gaze. "That wouldn't happen to be the reason you decided to drown your troubles in cider, would it?"

Actually it is, Vinyl thinks. It’s because apparently, I’m in love with you, and the whole world knew it except for me, and I guess you, and it’s just been rubbed in my face in the form of a giant billboard. Vinyl shakes her head stubbornly, hoping that her flush isn't noticeable. "No, I don’t care,” she lies. “It's just PR."

"That's what I tried to tell Cherry Spices," Octavia says, running a hoof over her hair, making the already mussed strands from sleep stand even more on end. “I believe, from what I managed to understand, she is worried about what her family might think.” She sighs, turning to face Vinyl and leaning wearily against the countertop.

Vinyl shrugs feebly. Truth be told, she kind of gets it. She wouldn’t want her marefriend to be in an ad implying that she was in a relationship with somepony else either. “Just blame it all on Derpy. That’s what I’m gonna do.”

Octavia huffs a laugh and Vinyl smirks back at her, ignoring the stabbing pain behind her left eye as she does so. There’s a long moment where they just sit there grinning at each other like a couple of idiots, but then Octavia’ smile falters and she looks away, clearing her throat.

“How is Neon Lights?” Octavia asks, looking up when Vinyl nudges her with her elbow and taking one of the last pieces of apple left from the their shared plate.

Vinyl extends the plate with the apple slices, letting Octavia take another piece for herself. She tries and fails to stop herself from watching Octavia’ mouth close around the slice. Octavia catches her staring, raising her eyebrows expectantly, her face impassive, and Vinyl realizes that she’s already forgotten the question.

“Uh,” she says intelligently, heat rising in her cheeks.

Octavia rolls her eyes. “Neon Lights?” she prompts.

“Right.” Vinyl nods, taking a large bite of apple before continuing. “Neon Lights’ his usual suave but still-can’t-get-a-date self. Still pining after that mare that he hasn’t got the guts to ask out yet.” Never mind how long it’s been since Vinyl’s been on a date, or that she’s been in love with her roommate slash co-host slash best friend since approximately forever and is too chicken to even spend time at their house because of it. It’s totally different.

Octavia makes a noncommittal noise. “He still hasn’t asked her out?”

“I know right,” Vinyl says thickly, swallowing. “He needs to get his act together. He's been into her for months.”

“Maybe she’ll will get tired of waiting and make the first move,” Octavia suggests, watching Vinyl as she takes another bite.

Vinyl grins. “Celestia, I hope so. If she doesn’t, I’m gonna have to intervene.”

Octavia rolls her eyes, but Vinyl thinks she sees her lip twitch in barely concealed amusement. “How very kind of you.”

They lapse into silence as they finish the slices. Normally this type of silence between them is comfortable, easy, but Vinyl feels a growing tension in the room that she doesn’t know how to break. She knows now is the time she’s supposed to ask how Cherry Spices is, but she can’t bring herself to do it. It’s selfish and childish, but she’s in love with the mare and she doesn’t want to hear how great her marefriend is. Vinyl already knows she’s great, so much greater than she is, and she should be happy for Octavia but she’s finding it pretty hard to make that leap.

Thankfully, Octavia’ phone rings from its perch on the table, some classical song Vinyl doesn’t know ringing out into the quiet of the room. She shakes her head at Octavia’ taste as her friend answers the phone.

“Hello?” she says.

“Hey Octavia,” their boss’ cheery voice sounds shrilly through the speaker.

“Hello Derpy,” Octavia replies. “Vinyl’s here too.”

“Oh, hey Vinyl!”

Vinyl grunts “hello” back, rolling her eyes.

“Sorry to bother you both on your night off. Just wanted to let you know so you’re not blindsided when you get in, I’ve got a great plan for the show tomorrow!”

Derpy sounds way too excited, and Vinyl would be willing to bet that if they could see her, she’d be bouncing in that overexcited way of hers, like no self-respecting adult ever should. Vinyl smells trouble. She rolls her eyes, mumbling under her breath so that only Octavia can hear, “I swear to Celestia, if she says Truth or Dare-”

And sure enough, Derpy continues, “Truth or Dare!”

Octavia smirks across at Vinyl, who groans. “Really? Come on, we already did the Truth or Dare thing and it was a huge bust-”

“Are you kidding?” Derpy interrupts. “Everyone loved it! I’m thinking of starting up Truth or Dare Tuesdays, like a weekly thing? Except this time it’s caller’s choice.” She laughs to herself. “You’re not going to get away with only choosing Truth this time, mare!”

Vinyl shoots a pained look at Octavia, who is pressing her lips together tightly, trying not to laugh. They listen as Derpy explains the details of how the game is going to run this time before she hangs up, leaving them with cheery goodnight wishes. Vinyl mumbles something mutinous in response as Octavia disconnects the call and replaces her phone on the table.

“Don’t look so smug,” Vinyl warns Octavia who turns back to her, not even bothering to hide her amusement at Vinyl’s discomfort. “I’m going to bribe somepony to call in and dare you to burp the alphabet.”

So because Derpy is evil, Tuesday finds Octavia and Vinyl once again playing Truth or Dare in the studio with a bunch of equally evil callers. On Derpy’s instruction, they post pictures or videos of all the dares on the station’s trotter account as proof of their antics, so Vinyl can’t even lie and say she did what she’d been dared to.

Unable to avoid dares, Vinyl ends up singing this time while Octavia snorts into her coffee, but she gets her own back when Octavia is dared to run outside in the snow after having a bucket of cold water poured on her and comes back in swearing and hopping back and forth from one hoof to the other like a deranged flamingo. Thankfully, a couple of callers take pity on them after that and ask them some questions instead.

“What is your greatest fear?” a pony named Press Pass asks on Vinyl’s turn.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Vinyl tries but Octavia just cocks an eyebrow in her direction.

“Oh really, Vinyl?” she says into her mic, casting a smug sidelong glance at her co-host. “So you’re not afraid of trains?”

Vinyl groans. “Ugh, c’mon that’s just low. It’s not fair that you know all my dirty little secrets.”

“Truth, Vinyl,” Octavia reminds her, smirking.

Vinyl rolls her eyes. “Trains aren’t hooves Octavia, they go much, much faster. Being afraid of trains isn't even embarrassing; it’s just good sense.”

Octavia leans over the desk in front of them, turning in her chair to face Vinyl more fully. “Not a single pony has ever died in a train crash,” she notes. “You’d be more likely to be trampled than to die by train.”

“Yeah, all right Ms. Know-It-All, shut up and take the next call,” Vinyl says, bumping her smug co-host and grinning in spite of herself.

Vinyl’s laughing when she answers the next call. “Hi, The Octavia and Vinyl show! Who am I speaking to?”

A familiar cheery voice comes over the line, filling Vinyl with a sense of dread that’s completely at odds with the cheerful perkiness of her voice. “Hi Vinyl, it’s Lyra. Remember me?”

“Ahh, Lyra, of course I remember you.” She’s hardly likely to forget the pony responsible for starting this whole gigantic mess. Vinyl wonders if she listens to the show religiously, biding her time, waiting for opportunities to call in and make her life horrible.

She glances at Octavia who squints back at her over the brim of her coffee cup. “Well, Lyra, do your worst. Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” the voice comes back over the line. “I dare you to kiss Octavia.”

Everything inside the booth goes still, the only sound is Colgate’s loud whoop from the other side of the window. Vinyl feels Octavia’ eyes boring into her but she doesn’t dare meet her gaze.

She tries to laugh, grimacing when she hears how wooden it sounds in her own ears. “Listen, sweetheart, I can’t kiss Octavia. Ask me something else.”

“No. Way, Vinyl. The game is Truth or Dare. I dare you to kiss Octavia.”

Vinyl sighs. “Lyra, Octavia and I are friends, and Octavia has a -”

She’s cut off by a hoof that circles the back of her neck, tugging her forward. She has enough time to register that Octavia is close and moving closer, her eyes impossibly purple as they stare determinedly into Vinyl’s, before their lips are connecting. Vinyl’s eyes go crossed for a second in her shock, stiffening under the dry, soft touch of Octavia’ mouth to her own. Octavia tastes like the coffee she’d been drinking and the touch of her lips feels so good that there’s no room in Vinyl’s brain for anything else.

Then there’s the recorded click of a camera phone going off and Octavia draws back. Vinyl’s traitor body tries to follow before she can stop it, but her co-host isn’t even looking at her anymore. “Check our trotter feed, Lyra,” Octavia says into her mic. “I think you’ll be pleased.”

She starts up the next song and shuts off their mics, leaning back in her chair and tipping back her coffee cup as if absolutely nothing happened, as if she hadn’t just kissed Vinyl without the influence of alcohol for the first time ever, and hadn't just shaken Vinyl’s world down to its core.

Confusion and guilt flood back into Vinyl’s body, chasing away the last humming pulse of pleasure. “What in Celestia, Octavia?!” she splutters.

Octavia finally turns to face her, eyebrows raised. “What?”

Vinyl’s eyes bug out. “What do you mean, what? What was that?”

“I’m fairly certain it was a kiss,” Octavia replies dryly.

Vinyl can’t even begin to understand how one pony can be so irritating and so attractive all at the same time. “Uh, yeah, Octavia, it was a kiss.” An awesome kiss, too, but that’s beside the point. “But don’t you think maybe we shouldn’t be kissing?”

Octavia finally looks at her, and her eyes are carefully blank. “We’re just friends, Vinyl,” she says, her voice level, giving nothing away. “It didn’t mean anything.”

Vinyl feels her stomach sink down somewhere around the bottom of her back hooves but she nods jerkily. “Right. Didn’t mean anything.” She’s not sure Cherry Spices would agree, but that’s Octavia’ problem. And the empty, wanting feeling in Vinyl’s gut - that’s Vinyl’s problem because the kiss “didn’t mean anything”. At least not to Octavia, anyway.

The rest of the shift is awkward. Neither of them feel like playing Truth or Dare anymore, and Vinyl can tell Octavia wants to say something about the kiss but doesn't because they both feel the distinctly tense atmosphere in the booth. She keeps quiet, mercifully shushing Colgate when she opens her mouth to make a comment, and even Derpy falters as she slings her front hooves around them and squeezes them to her side like she always does.

As they walk home, Vinyl gets the distinct impression that Octavia is mad at her, but that’s totally unfair because Octavia is the one who kissed her, and she’s the one who’s aching and longing and wishing they could have something more than they do and hating herself for not realizing it until Octavia was already in a serious relationship with a sweet, wonderful mare who absolutely deserves to have somepony as awesome as Octavia.

As soon as they get home Octavia disappears into the kitchen instead of going to change for her afternoon run. Today she heads straight for the liquor cabinet which is very unlike Octavia, and just adds to the feeling of wrong that’s settled in Vinyl’s gut. “Anymore cider?” Octavia asks, her voice level but her eyes hard as she looks up at Vinyl.

“Drank it,” Vinyl grunts back, and she had, one night when Octavia wasn’t home, presumably at Cherry Spices’, one of those nights that Neon Lights was busy and Vinyl hadn’t wanted to face her feelings so she’d drank instead.

Octavia’ eyes narrow dangerously before she rises with a salt lick that somepony had left behind the last time they had a party and brushes past Vinyl without another word. Vinyl hears the TV come on in the other room and she takes it that she’s not invited. She realizes she really, really needs a drink right now. She heads to the door and calls over her shoulder that she’s going to the grab some cider, to which Octavia waves a hoof over the back of the couch distractedly and Vinyl grumbles all the way about stupid, irritating, gorgeous housemates and the mess her life has become.