//------------------------------//
// The Pianist and the DJ 
// Story: Synchronization 
// by Terrasora 
//------------------------------//

Fancy Pants sat in his seat, his eyes firmly shut, and a pack of ice resting on his head. His office was a mess, paperwork strewn about, interspersed with empty cans of coffee and cookie wrappers. He heaved a sigh. He'd forgotten how hard it was to keep a business up and running without Fleur de Lis by his side. The Doctor was there to help, yes, but it wasn't the same. Fleur was calming; she could dance among the media, and ponies in general, with the utmost grace. Ponies liked her, liked her as very few ponies could like Fancy Pants. Sending her with the musicians was the right decision, Fleur could connect with the Equestrians more thoroughly than anypony currently working for Syncopated Records. But she wasn't by Fancy Pants' side. She wasn't even near Canterlot.

And Fancy Pants felt her absence keenly.

"Cup of tea, boss?" came the Doctor's voice.

Fancy Pants nodded, forcing his eyes open. "Yes, please."

The Doctor smiled warmly, if a bit sadly, and set a tea saucer on Fancy Pants' desk, just within the elder pony's reach. Then the Doctor set about the room, trying to make a dent in the mess.

Fancy Pants shifted slightly, readjusting the ice pack and floating his teacup up to his mouth. The Doctor didn't have Fleur's calming aura, or her interpersonal skills, but he knew how to brew a decent cup of tea. And he was a hard-worker.

"Doctor, you do realize that it's well past five o' clock? You're free to head home."

The Doctor looked up from his work. "There's still a few things left to do."

"A few signatures, yes. Bit of paperwork. Nothing I can't handle on my own."

"Forgive me for saying this, Fancy Pants, but you're not exactly in your best condition. I'd rather hang around."

Fancy Pants scowled from under his ice pack. "And make sure I don't fall down dead?"

"Well... not in so many words."

"I assure you, Doctor, I am more than capable of signing documents. There is no need to inconvenience yourself on my behalf."

The Doctor frowned slightly, tossing a few cookie wrappers into the trash can. The cans were placed in recycling. "Is there any reason why you can't finish it in the morning?"

"It would go against the schedule." Fancy Pants took off the ice pack, placing it on his desk and drawing out a fresh quill and ink pot.

The Doctor's frown deepened. "You need to sleep at some point."

"Once I'm finished."

"You need to sleep more than two hours a night!"

Fancy Pants' scowl darkened. He glared at the Doctor. "Once I'm finished. Now, kindly leave my office and go home before I say something we'll both regret."

The Doctor met his glare with worried eyes. They stayed that way for a time, silently testing the others' will. Fancy Pants turned away first, fixing his eyes on the documents before him and dipping a quill into his inkwell. The scratching of quill against parchment followed the Doctor out of Fancy Pants' office.


***


Coda lowered his baton, nodding silently to himself. "Yes, it's almost halfway decent. Violins, you're still rushing into your part. Keep your eyes on my baton, not on Master Horseshoepin and Mademoiselle Scratch; their solo ends abruptly. Bassoons, remember that we flattened that A in measure 287."

"Yes, maestro," the orchestra chorused.

"Yes, yes. Now off with you. And make sure you take care of yourselves! I will not have you coughing onstage unless the music calls for it!"

"Yes, maestro," the orchestra said again, leaving their seats and working off the weariness that came with three hour rehearsals. Light conversation filled the concert hall as the orchestra members packed up their instruments and carried their seats offstage. Vinyl Scratch sat just outside of the sudden flurry of activity, her eyes scanning over her sheet music while her hooves played over the piano's keys. She could hear the music in her head, even above the din of the packing orchestra, but her hooves couldn't keep up. 

Vinyl sighed, allowing her aching hooves a brief respite. Maybe it was time to throw in the towel. "Hey, Frederic," she began, turning to the other half of the duet. But Frederic Horseshoepin was nowhere in sight, having snuck away just after Coda dismissed his orchestra.

"Vinyl?" asked Octavia, materializing just beside the piano bench. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, Tavi," Vinyl replied with a slight pout. "How'd practice go for you?"

"Decently. No problems. You haven't had a headache or anything of the sort, have you?"

Vinyl rolled her eyes behind her purple lenses. "Tavi, I'm fine. The doctors said I was fine."

"They also said to report back if your head hurt in any way. And don't roll your eyes at me!"

"How did you...?"

"Honestly Vinyl, your entire head turns whenever you roll your eyes. You're not exactly a subtle pony."

"Are we making fun of Vinyl's habits?" asked Harpo, trotting into their conversation. "Have you ever noticed that her best comeback is 'Shut up, Harpo'?"

"Shut up, Harpo," said Vinyl.

"Case and point! It's like bantering with a record player."

"I'm just afraid of hurting you, Harpo."

"Sticks and stones, Vinyl Scratch."

Coda's voice carried over from his conductor's stand. "Mademoiselle Scratch, if you can spare a moment?"

"Yes, maestro!" Vinyl smiled apologetically at Octavia and Harpo. "Don't leave without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," answered Octavia.

Vinyl trotted off, stopping in front of the conductor's stand. Coda had been shrunken by age, but he stood far above Vinyl on his stand.

"Forgive me for dragging you away from your friends."

"Hey, no worries. What's up, maestro?"

"I have some concerns regarding your performance, Mademoiselle Scratch. I fear that Master Horseshoepin is covering for you and doing it well enough to make me question whether it's actually happening."

Vinyl's eyes widened in surprise. "I-I'm not sure. I've been trying to get my half of the music down, I wasn't paying attention to Frederic."

"Weren't paying attention?" asked Coda, arching an eyebrow. "To your partner?"

"Well, I've been having trouble with a few measures."

"Then you should be asking Master Horseshoepin for help!"

I tried! He avoids me! "Yes, maestro. I will."

Coda was silent for a moment. Then, "We're coming down to the wire here, Mademoiselle Scratch. You had to take a few days off to coalesce, and I understand that, but you must make up for those days on your own time. Ask Master Horseshoepin for help. I know you don't know him very well, but he's a kind pony; I've never heard him turn down the opportunity to help somepony else."

"Yes, maestro. I'll ask first chance I can."

"Thank you," said Coda, smiling warmly. "I will see you tomorrow, Mademoiselle Scratch."

Vinyl nodded, walking back to her friends with slightly subdued steps.

"Is everything alright, Vinyl?" Octavia asked.

"You look like Coda just fired you," Harpo added helpfully.

"Nah, I'm good. Just need to practice a bit more."

"There's a piano in the hotel. We can ask Particular if we can use it," suggested Octavia, leading the way out of the concert hall.

"I'm actually rather surprised you're having trouble with the duet," said Harpo. "I mean, yes it's technically challenging, but that's if you've only got your hooves playing. Didn't think it'd be that difficult even with magic."

"I'm not using magic."

"Oh. May I ask why you aren't using the thing that can fix all of your problems?"

"Frederic plays it without magic."

"Yes, but Frederic Horseshoepin is a monster. He might as well be a griffon. Or a kraken!" Harpo put a thoughtful hoof to his chin. "Yes, kraken would suit him quite nicely."

"I have to agree with Harpo," said Octavia. "Well, the sentiment if not the exact wording. Frederic, for all his faults, is a very talented pianist."

Vinyl scowled. "I'm pretty good too!"

"Yes, but you're not a kraken."

Vinyl rolled her eyes, turning her entire head in the process and catching a glimpse of a tan shape retreating through a doorway. She frowned slightly. He really was avoiding her. Well, no problem; she could confront him tomorrow. Vinyl took a few steps forward, towards the exit of the concert hall and the safety of the hotel.

Then she stopped. And she thought.

"Guys, I have to go talk to somepony. Head to the hotel without me."


***


Frederic Horseshoepin cursed his small bladder. He had a clear shot home; Vinyl Scratch was distracted by her music, Harpo and Octavia were putting away their chairs, nopony asked him to join them for a drink, it was perfect! And then he had to go and literally piss his chance away. All three of them were just in front of the exit and though Frederic had duck around the corner at soon as he saw them, he had never been the fastest pony. Leaving was the best option. Yes, he could return to the stage, pretend that he'd forgotten his music! Clever Frederic! Smart Frederic!

"Hey Frederic, I wanted to talk to you," said Vinyl, rounding the corner.

Frederic nearly jumped out of his skin. "Vinyl Scratch! I-I had no idea you were here."

"I'm pretty sure you dove out of this doorway a few seconds ago."

"You must have been imagining things. I'm a terrible diver, never was any good at swimming, I think I'll go practice!" Frederic tried to step towards the exit, but found his way thoroughly blocked by Vinyl.

"Frederic, how many syllables does your name have?"

"... Pardon?"

"Five total, right? I'm rejecting your name. You're now Freddy."

"That's... That's hardly shorter than Frederic."

"So it's not as efficient as Tavi. Don't worry about the details. I need to talk to you, Freddy."

Frederic cast a longing glance towards the exit, then sighed. "This has been happening far too often."

"Deal with it, Freddy."

"Please don't call me Freddy."

"Continue dealing with it, Freddy. I'm having some problems with the duet and I need you to help me out."

"Use your magic. Problem solved. Can I leave now?"

"You don't use magic, so I won't."

"You do realize that I can't use magic at all?"

"Can't?" asked Vinyl, "Or won't?"

Frederic knit his brow. "Can't."

"Well, then I can't use magic either." Vinyl nodded affirmatively.

Frederic stared at her incredulously. "You're absolutely infuriating, aren't you?"

"Tavi actually chilled me out a bit. I'm in a kind of in-between place right now. Haven't had coffee in a while." Vinyl shook her head. "So are you gonna help me or what?"

"I'm going to have to go with 'or what'."

"I'll tell Coda that you refused to help your duet partner."

"Be here half an hour early tomorrow. We'll go over what we can."

Vinyl smiled warmly, stepping aside. "Awesome. See you tomorrow, Freddy."

Frederic forced himself to return the smile. "Until tomorrow, Vinyl Scratch." He made towards the exit.

"Wait, Freddy, one more thing!"

Frederic visibly cringed, painting a smile onto his face before turning around. "Yes, Vinyl Scratch?"

"Harpo told me and Tavi about your talk at the bar."

"Did he?"

Vinyl nodded. "He said that you probably still have a grudge against Tavi."

Frederic frowned.

"Do you?"

A few moments passed in silence, both ponies watching the other. Frederic spoke first.

"Octavia Philharmonica," he said, "is a monster."

Vinyl didn't respond.

Frederic Horseshoepin continued. "She plays pieces meant for unicorns with hardly any effort. She keeps perfect time. She knows most everything and anything she doesn't know she can learn with a few hours of study. Do you think that Octavia Philharmonica has ever had to ask for help the way you just did?"

"You're jealous of her."

"Jealous?" Frederic asked, seemingly amused at the thought. "If anything, I pity her. A monster can't change. Someone as perfect as Octavia has nowhere to go, nothing to grow into. I knew Octavia for three years and she never did anything that shocked me. She'd be angry or sad or happy, but always in that perfect way. Octavia Philharmonica has always been Octavia Philharmonica."

Vinyl felt the heat of anger growing in her stomach. She strove to keep it down. "She's Tavi now."

"And how long have you known Tavi? What makes you think that you know her better than I do? Than Harpo does?"

"I love her," Vinyl said truthfully.

"So did Harpo." And that was also true.

The silence returned. Frederic regarded Vinyl with a cold stare that she couldn't meet, even through her purple shades.

Frederic sighed. "Maybe I said too much. I'm not here to change your opinion of Octavia. Tomorrow, half an hour before rehearsal." He made towards the exit.

"You know," Vinyl said, trying to keep herself from shouting, "they talk about you the same way."

Frederic Horseshoepin straightened slightly, glaring back at Vinyl. "Goodbye, Vinyl Scratch."

"Goodbye, Frederic."