“Okay, what about this,” Octave suggested. By now, Octave had decided that it was time to get home. That was to say, to go back as slowly as was equally possible. To procrastinate, both of them would chat back and forth, covering a wide range of topics about nearly anything they could think of. “How about... our first?”
“Our first what?” Record asked.
“Anything, I suppose,” the cellist shrugged, “Like for example, do you remember the first piece of music you ever listened to?”
“Oh… That’s a real tough one, dude…” Record paused to think for a moment. “I guess... the earliest song that I could remember hearing was from dad. He put on a record of… Ugh, what was it? I think it might have been a song from a silent movie star. Chaplin, I think, it was called ‘Smile’ or something like that. I don’t know for sure, it’s been a really long time.”
“For me, I think it was Beethooven’s sixth symphony. In fact, it’s one of the earliest things I could remember. Dad later told me that when I was about four or five, mum wasn’t able to take care of me, and neither of them was able to find a foalsitter, so my dad offered to take me to work with him. He said that at the time, they were rehearsing the sixth, and when we came in, I was having a fit for some reason. Anyway, all I remember was that I was crying over something until dad started conducting. When he did… I just went silent. To this day, I can’t explain it, but there was something about that music that I found hypnotic.”
“Okay… What about the first time playing music in front of a crowd?”
Octave chucked dryly, “How could I forget? The first time I performed, I was playing the piano. I couldn’t stop shaking. And I’m sure that I wasn’t nearly as good back then.”
“Eh… For me, when I got up to a crowd for the first time, I couldn’t see them. Since you know, at a dance all the lights are off, except for the one spotlight in the DJ’s face. I think I did well on my first try. Heh, I mean, the school has been asking me to do the music for their events since then.”
“True. From what I’ve heard, you’re getting better at what you do.”
“Ya bet I am!” Record looked ahead, now realizing that Octave’s home was now just down the street.
“Record,” Octave said softly, “I want you to know that I had a good time tonight. Thank you once again for giving me my first date and all… Say, do you remember your first date?”
“Mine? Eh… To tell ya the truth, brony, my first date wasn’t nearly as good as this one.”
“Why? What happened?”
“You remember Stinking Rich? Ya know that filly, whose family runs Ponyville?” Octave nodded, “Yeah, if you wanna know what real… what’s the word? Narcissism? Yeah! If ya wanna know what real narcissism looks like if it was given a body, it’ll be her. I tell ya, from start ta finish she talked about nothing but herself.”
“That doesn’t seem polite,” Octave commented.
Record snorted, “That’s a kind way of putting it, I broke up with her the very next day. But still, I’m glad that I went out with ya too.” He saw his best friend looking away but noticed that the cellist’s muzzle was turning red.
“Likewise,” the earth pony nodded. By now, Octave’s home was now only a few yards away. The lights were on, and he’d checked to see if nopony was watching. He didn’t notice anyone. “Record?”
“Yeah?”
“Is this going to be a one-time thing?” Octave asked. “I mean, I did have fun talking to you… and playing for you, but since this date is over… are we going to go back to being friends once more?”
Record put a hoof to his chin, “To be honest dude, and I mean, really, brutally honest here… this has to be the best date I’ve ever been on.”
“R-Really?”
“Yeah, it makes me kinda wish that we’ve should have done something like this sooner.” The DJ smiled, “You’re a good stallion, Octie… So do you wanna… I don’t know…” Record was blushing, and rubbing the back of his neck with a hoof.
“Yes?” Octave raised an eyebrow, guessing what’s going on inside his friend’s mind.
Record shook his head, “Nevermind. I think I need to think this out for a bit.”
The cellist nodded, “I suppose I might do the same.”
“So… see ya at school on Monday?”
“As usual. Good night Record.” Octave turned to the front door and started to make his way there. But deep down, he couldn’t help but feel something was missing from all of this. Something that would make this lovely night complete, but the question was what. Before Octave could touch the door handle, hoping that it might be unlocked, he heard his friend calling out.
“Hey, dude! I forgot to give ya something!”
“Give me wha-” There have been times that Octave had been caught off guard. There indeed have been times that surprises had been thrown at him. But at this point in his life, on those very steps on that night, an unexpected miracle occurred. Record did something that he thought would never do outside of his fantasies.
Record gave him his first, real kiss.
Of course, part of Octave was in shock, that what he considered to be the impossible was now being pressed up against his lips. Eyes wide, stiff, the Cellist was conscious that his entire head had turned into a glowing, red lantern. To his surprise, Record wasn’t as aggressive in his kissing at he thought he would be. If anything, those soft lips were shockingly gentle.
Record pulled away, but Octave still had a look of shock on his face. The DJ’s eyes widened behind his glasses as he realized what he’d done. “Uh… dude?” he asked, warily.
“You… did you just…” Octave struggled to figure out what to say after all of that.
“Was that… your first?” Record asked with dread. “Oh, dude. Octie, I’m so sorry about that! I-I thought you wanted i-it and-”
“Record.”
“I-I just didn’t know okay! Augh! I really screwed things up, didn’t I?!”
“Record.”
“Y-You know what brony, forget that I-” Octave kissed him. Even though it lasted for a few seconds, it might have been an eternity for Record, now his turn to be surprised. Yet, at the same time, it wasn't unwelcomed.
Octave broke the kiss, “Record,” he said, “Has it ever occurred to you that you might worry a bit too much?”
“I… but…”
“Although, rude as it was, it was quiet… enjoyable to say the least.”
“Rude?” Record asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Please, Record; a gentlecolt never kisses their dates, at least not on the first night.”
Record smiled, “Well, good thing I’m no gentlecolt then, huh?”
“I…” Octave trailed off, “… you know, you can be so evil at times.”
The DJ chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. Glad that didn't ruin anything...” For a moment, neither of them said a word until Record said, “So… See ya on Monday?”
Octave nodded, “Of course, good night.”
“Night,” and with that, Octave watched Record trot off. Octave stood for a moment, lifting his head to the sky, and then started to laugh. Now, the night seemed whole to him. Complete. And he couldn't help but feel happy about it all.
With a smile, he turned to the door, which he found to be unlocked. He wasn't sure if he’d heard his family asking how it went, nor even remembering walking to his room, but he did remember being in his room, putting in a record that reflected his mood perfectly.
For the rest of the night, he couldn't help but sing, as well as play along with Beethooven’s greatest work. And even when he played or sang off key, he felt nothing but joy for the rest of the evening.