Lyra shivered as frost slowly began to coat her turquoise fur. One of the few downsides about chariot travel was the fact that very few chariots were made with covers over the sitting area. This unfortunate feature left passengers very vulnerable to the frigid air that surrounded Mount Celestia(ironic, considering who the mountain was named for). Lyra shook the ice crystals off, careful to avoid hitting the other ponies sitting with her in the gold-plated car.
She had been in the chariot for about an hour. Despite the fact that it was well past midnight, Lyra wasn’t anywhere near being tired. There was just no time to be, with all that had happened. Finally, after years of practicing, gig after gig, her music actually did something worthwhile. If she played her cards right, she could become a millionaire from this deal. Okay, even Lyra had to admit: that was probably pretty far fetched. But still, there was big money in Galaxy Music Group. She couldn’t wait to tell Bon Bon.
Bon Bon. The name resonated in her head as it slowly turned from a tone of excitement to one of dread. Once this deal went through, she was probably going to end up having to move to Canterlot. What would happen to Bon Bon? They may have been the best of friends, but Lyra wasn’t sure that even their friendship could take on such a long distance and still survive. What would she say?
Lyra’s thought became jumbled as the royal guard ponies pulling the chariot hit the ground, pulling their live cargo along for the ride. They galloped a few more yards before eventually coming to a full stop, their golden horseshoes clinking against the hard concrete runway. “All off who’re gettin’ off.” said one of the white pegasi who had been pulling the carriage. “This is the last stop, so that means the lot a’ ya.”
Lyra slipped the straps for both her red suitcase, which held her money, trophy, and other things, and her jet-black lyre case over her shoulders. She slowly shuffled out of the carriage, glad to finally stretch her limbs after being crowded together with six others for an hour. Everypony walked toward the only building in sight: a shiny, bright terminal. This “airport,” as they called it, was relatively new. It was a well known fact that when Princess Celestia’s student, Twilight Sparkle, first came into Ponyville, she and her escorts simply landed in the middle of main street, almost running over quite a few innocent bystanders. Fortunately, nopony was hurt; unfortunately, the gust of wind created from the landing was enough to knock Ponyville’s resident mail mare to the ground, sparking a massive lawsuit which resulted in the new terminal.
Despite Lyra’s usual lack of extra money, she did travel often, usually to perform at out-of-town shows. As such, she knew the routine well for passing through a terminal.
First, they magically scanned her luggage. Disregarding Lyra’s multiple comments that her trophy, in fact, was not a bomb designed to take out half of Ponyville, the unicorns that led the security force still felt the need to triple-check the object with the most thorough probing spells they could find. Even after they had checked her luggage, she didn’t get it back; that honor went to a large, noisy, metal conveyor belt.
Next came the stage where they check the actual pony. Even if she almost never wore actual clothes, Lyra always found the scan to be somewhat intrusive. They claimed that it was for security, but where on their body was a pony supposed to hide something, anyway? Lyra tried not to think very hard about it.
The final stage was arguably the most difficult of all: waiting. Apparently, that conveyor belt was either very long, or very slow. So, Lyra stood, tapping her hoof impatiently, waiting for the metal catwalk to produce her luggage. A minute passes. It hasn’t come. Another five minutes passes. Still nothing. By now, she just wanted to go home, fall into bed, and pass out forever, but she couldn’t, because her luggage still wasn’t there, and there were unicorn guards staring at her like she was going to blow up half of Ponyville, and in the background, is that godawful elevator music that always seems to play in the most annoying of situations, grinding into your eardrums until you don’t know what music is anymore.
Lyra, her senses heightened by pure impatience, snatched her baggage within seconds of it exiting the metal tube. She gripped the straps in her mouth, not even caring to put them on properly, and rushed out the exit, into the cold night air. It was at least a mile to her house from there, but she could deal with the cold. It would have been nice to have somepony to talk to, though.
Suddenly, a knit cap forced its way over Lyra’s head. “Lyra, you really need to be more careful! Did you know that you lose more heat from your head than anyplace else?”
Lyra lifted the cap over her eyes, only to be greeted by a familiar sight: it was Bon Bon! “Oh, Bon Bon!” Lyra yelped, surprised. “What are you doing here? It’s, like, three in the morning!” Lyra looked around for a moment, then leaned in close to her friend. “You haven’t been drinking coffee again, have you? Because you know how you get...”
Bon Bon laughed. “No, silly! I’ve just been so excited to hear how you did! I couldn’t wait until tomorrow...or, today, rather. And besides, I figured you could use some company on the way home.” Bon Bon said, a smile on her face. “And it looks like I was right! You really need to learn to pack accordingly, Lyra! You would have frozen to death!”
Lyra sighed, and pulled the cap down again. It wasn’t much, but it was better than walking bare. “Yeah, I know, I know! You’re right, I’m wrong, I know how it goes.”
“Speaking of how things are going...how was the competition?! I was so anxious to hear from you!”
“Oh, right. Just wait a sec.” Lyra stopped and popped open her rolling suitcase. Much to Bon Bon’s delight, out came a large, golden trophy, the top of which was decorated by a golden pony surrounded by music notes. “You could say I did well.”
“OH, LYRA! CONGRATULATIONS!” Bon Bon shrieked, embracing her friend in a hug so vehement, it nearly sent the trophy flying. “You see? I told you that you would do well! You were all like, ‘Oh, I’m so bad,’ and I was like, ‘No, you’re amazing,’ and look what happened!”
Lyra smiled at her friend’s enthusiasm. “There was also a cash prize of about a thousand bits. I haven’t-”
“A thousand bits? Lyra, you’re rich!”
“Rich? I don’t think so. You make more than that in like a week.”
“Yeah, but I own my own shop. I hate to say it, Lyra, but you don’t even have a regular job. You should feel lucky.” Bon Bon gave Lyra a playful punch on the shoulder and returned the trophy. “Did anything else happen?”
Lyra’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah, I-” Wait. Should she really tell Bon Bon about Noteworthy’s offer? As seen by her excitement over Lyra’s victory, Bon Bon was a very emotional mare. And, as much as Lyra hated to admit it, Bon Bon didn’t really have many friends besides Lyra. What would happen to her once Lyra left? Lyra really didn’t want to think about it. Besides, it was late, they were both tired...Lyra wasn’t in the best of moods to be trying to comfort a frantic, crying mare.
“What?” Bon Bon asked, turning her head in confusion. “What happened?”
“Oh, uh, nothing important. What did you do while I was gone?
----------
“What’s Noteworthy doing here?”
“Didn’t he get fired?”
“I heard he made some deal with Two Step!”
“Oh man, do ya think it’s...you know?”
“Oh Celestia no! I mean... I don’t think so...”
Noteworthy slammed his office door closed. Rumors had been spreading ever since he had come back in that morning, surprisingly unfired. He really was shocked at how little faith everypony in the office had in him. How common of knowledge was his sell rate? Whatever. It didn’t matter now. He had about four days until Lyra came back to Canterlot. While he was waiting, he needed to prepare.
knock knock
Noteworthy jumped at the sudden, albeit gentle noise. “Come in?” he called. The door slowly swung inward, creaking as it went. And, standing in the doorway, was a dread and ghostly figure.
It was Two Step.
“Oh, sir! Thank you for coming to-”
Two Step inhaled deeply, as he held up a hoof denoting silence. “Save it, Noteworthy. I got your message. Have you found somepony yet?”
Noteworthy nodded heartily. Unconsciously puffing his chest out in pride, he said: “Yes, sir, I have. Just yesterday, she won the Canterlot Amateur Music Festival.”
“Huh. Maybe you are not a failure after all.” Two Step declared. Noteworthy’s stance lowered a bit at the backhanded compliment. “What is her name?”
“Her name is Lyra. She comes from Ponyville, and she’s a pro on the lyre. Now, I think-”
“Really? A lyre?” Two Step interrupted.
“Yeah. Why, is that a problem...?”
Two Step chuckled, all the while piercing Noteworthy’s eyes with his own gold orbs. “Noteworthy, answer me this: how many artists have you heard of recently that have made it big playing a lyre?”
“Uh...none, I suppose.” Noteworthy admitted. In fact, he wasn’t sure he even knew what a lyre sounded like, let alone a song. “B-but, couldn’t that work to our advantage? It’s original, it’s new!”
Two Step sat on Noteworthy’s desk. “And therein lies your problem. You are trying to think like an innovator, like you are just going to come up with the best new thing in music since rock n’ roll. People do not want new; they want a catchy song that you can sing and dance to. We want the songs that those idiots on Equestrian Idol can sing.”
“So, what do you want me to do?”
Two Step clucked his tongue. “Well, if you are not willing to find another pony, then you have to get rid of the lyre.”
Noteworthy blinked. “Sir, her cutie mark is of a lyre. According to her she’s been playing the lyre all her life. Her name is Lyra, for Celestia’s sake.”
“So? Look at Bustin’ Jieber. His cutie mark is a can of hairspray. His real name is ‘Crew Cut.’ And yet, he sings for millions of school-age fillies every day.” Two Step held a hoof to his chin in thought. “Actually, that gives me an idea. Make her sing.”
“Sing?”
Two Step smiled and nodded. “Sing.”
“Uh...okay? I guess I can work with that.”
Two Step nodded. “You will have to learn to. You have less than two weeks left; make them count for something.” He turned and headed for the door, but stopped after a few feet and turned back. “Oh, I almost forgot. I figured since you actually have something to do now besides napping, you could use some extra help. I am giving you an assistant. Choose who you want, run it by me, and carry on.” Two Step shut the door gently behind him.
Noteworthy breathed deeply as he pulled a small notebook from his desk. Turning over the first page(the contents of which Noteworthy would deny to his grave), he began to jot down what he had learned from the meeting.
Singing
New name(stage)
Assistant?
He stared at the last word. Apparently he could choose anyone. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Considering the rumors that had been floating around, it was unlikely he would find somepony willing to work for him. He could only think of one pony who could, or would possibly take the job.
----------
“Hey, Backbeat.”
“AIYAAA!” Backbeat yelped, shooting straight out of her seat. Luckily, a pegasus passing overhead was able to catch the mare before she fell straight back down and hurt herself.
“Damn it all, Backbeat! That’s the third time this week!” the pegasus said as he lowered the white unicorn back down to her desk. “You gotta calm those nerves!”
“Sorry...” she murmured as the pegasus flew away, grumbling under his breath. She turned to the source of the original noise, brushing a few red locks out of her bespectacled eyes. “Oh, hi, Noteworthy...sorry you had to see that.”
Noteworthy laughed. “It’s no worry.” Warily, he eyed the multiple empty coffee cups scattered around his friend’s desk. “...Maybe you should take his advice. Maybe try decaf?”
“Oh, it’s not usually like this...I was up all night doing data entry for this week’s top twenty charts. Oh, uh, sorry, but Hayseed wasn’t there.”
“Well, because that’s definitely a big surprise. Anyway, you’re probably wondering why I came.” Noteworthy said. Backbeat slowly nodded. “Well, I have a question for you, Backbeat." He spread his arms out in the air with a dramatic flourish. "One that could change our lives as we know it.”
The unicorn’s white fur began to take the color of her mane. He couldn’t possibly be...?
“How do you like your job?” Noteworthy asked.
Backbeat's hackles raised as her fur paled once again. "Why, I hate it! Do you know what it's like to stay up every night just to fill out meaningless spreadsheets?! It's torture! I'm amazed I haven't thrown my godforsaken computer out the window yet! And they can't even have the decency to pay me a decent salary! It just makes me want to scream!" She slammed her hooves on the gray desk in frustration. Pointing at her flank, she continued: “I mean, what’s this microphone supposed to mean if I’m just supposed to have a desk job all my life?!
Noteworthy slowly retreated from the mare, unsuccessfully trying to pass through the wall behind him. While Backbeat was usually a kind, albeit timid pony, there were some subjects which she felt very passionate about. One of these just happened to be her job. Despite her cutie mark, designating her for a life of music, Backbeat had been working with computers for as long as Noteworthy could remember.
Backbeat took a calming breath. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Did I, um, get carried away again?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s okay, though. In fact, that’s just the answer I wanted to hear.” Noteworthy said. He knew that Backbeat was his friend, and would listen to him no matter what, but still...it couldn’t hurt to use some sleaze for what he was about to ask. “How would you like to come work for me?”
“Huh? You’re quitting the company?”
“No, no, you don’t understand. I told you about Lyra, right?” Noteworthy asked, prompting a small nod from Backbeat. “Well, Two Step came and told me I could take an assistant to help me. I just have to run it by him, and we’d be golden. So, what do ya say? You in?”
Backbeat looked away. “I...I don’t know, Noteworthy. Are you sure? I mean, I’m sure you don’t want me...there has to be someone more, uh, qualified, you know? I wouldn’t...”
A frown planted itself upon the stallion’s face. “Oh, Backbeat, don’t be like that! I wouldn’t have chosen you if I didn’t think you would do well. And besides, what would you rather be doing?” He motioned towards the large, grey monitor on her desk. “Spend your life tapping out numbers into a machine? Or working with the best musicians in Equestria?”
Backbeat looked down at the ground, as if something had suddenly stolen her attention. Suddenly, she stared back into Noteworthy’s eyes, steely conviction present in her blue irises. “When do I start?”
----------
“What about this one?”
“What’s the title?”
“Lemme see... Ode in Rosa?”
Lyra dropped the box she was carrying, ran over to Bon Bon, and slapped the papers out of her hooves. “NO. NEVER AGAIN. No one is allowed to hear, read, or even see this song ever again.”
Bon Bon pouted. “God, Lyra, what is your problem? What’s with you and hating everything you’ve ever written?”
“I hate it because it’s terrible!” Lyra yelled, head pointed to the sky. “I need to find my best work, not some crappy composition I wrote for my high school music class!”
The cream-colored mare organized the papers that had fallen. “Really? What grade did you get on this?”
The turquoise unicorn’s face turned a shade of pink. “...An ‘A.’”
‘HA! I’m telling you, this is good! It must be, considering you’ve kept it for so many years. I mean, you’ve even-”
“AHA!” Lyra shrieked, cutting off Bon Bon’s pep talk. “Now, this is what I’m talking about!” She blew the excess of dust off the packet in her hooves, revealing three sheets of paper, all decorated with various musical notations. The first page was entitled: ‘Amicitia Magus.’ “Now this is something I can use!”
Bon Bon clapped her friend on the back, almost knocking the unicorn over. “You see? Everything worked out alright.” She looked over the first page, feigning understanding of the various symbols littered on the paper. “Hey, why do you need these things anyway?”
Lyra nearly dropped the papers. “Oh, uh...” In truth, she was looking over her music to see what she could bring to Canterlot. Despite his confidence, Lyra wasn’t expecting Noteworthy is have much experience in the way of lyre music. As such, she needed to be as prepared as possible. How was she supposed to explain this to Bon Bon without giving up the truth? Maybe it was time to tell her...?
“Do you have a concert or something coming up?” Bon Bon asked innocently.
“Oh, yes!” Lyra replied, smiling as wide as she could. “Yep! Very important concert! Need all the music I can get! Ha, ha...”
Lyra felt a few beads of sweat begin to form as Bon Bon shot her a penetrating look. Eventually, Bon Bon shrugged, and went back to searching through the many boxes that filled Lyra’s attic. Lyra realized that she had been holding her breath; she gave a long sigh, wiped her head, and placed her sheet music to the side. She couldn’t focus on Bon Bon now. She had work to do.
----------
Backbeat levitated her pen in the air, readying her clipboard. “Okay, when you’re ready...”
Noteworthy paced around his office, thoughts racing. “We need a name. Something catchy. Memorable. Something that shows just what we’re trying to get at with Lyra’s music!”
“Um...Noteworthy?”
“Yes, Backbeat?”
Backbeat shuffled her hooves. “Uh, what are we trying to ‘get at?’”
Noteworthy stared blankly back at her. “I...don’t know. Damn. Uh...I guess, like, she’s trying to sing with her heart, or something like that. What do you think?”
“Oh, I’m not very good at naming things...”
Noteworthy held a hoof to his forehead and clenched his eyes closed in thought. “Can...can it be a pun, or something like that?”
“OOH! I love puns.” Backbeat replied, a smile growing on her face. “Um...what did you say her special talent was?”
“She plays the lyre. Or, at least, she played the lyre. Not after we’re done.”
“The lyre...that’s a string instrument. It’s very melodic...”
“So, what? ‘Melody Mare?’”
“No, that, uh, sounds like a superhero...” Backbeat chewed on her pen. “Um, I think I have an idea.”
Noteworthy stopped in his tracks. “Well, spit it out!” Seeing his assistant recoil, he added a small apology.
“You said her music come from the heart...and the lyre is a string instrument...what about ‘Heartstrings?’”
The blue stallion thought about it. “Yeah...yeah! I can see that working.” And he wasn’t kidding. ‘Heartstrings.’ It really did have a nice ring to it. It was new, creative, memorable, even cute. It was the kind of name you see consistently placing in the top twenty charts. Much better than ‘Bustin’ Jieber.’ Noteworthy caught Backbeat in a tight hug. “THAT’S IT! I told you this would work out! You are the best assistant!”
The unicorn was speechless as blood began to well in her cheeks.
----------
Lyra was locked in a fierce staring match with the white earth pony that was seated at the information booth. While Lyra was fueled by pure anger, the white pony, who’s nametag designated her as “Checkmark,” was fueled by pure fear of the unicorn staring her down. “I, um, ah...ma’am?”
Lyra grit her teeth, her gaze not even wavering. “Where. Are. My. Bags.”
Checkmark didn’t dare break her hold on Lyra’s gold eyes. “I...I don’t know?”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW?! Isn’t this the information booth?”
“I mean, yeah, but I don’t really have control of where you put your bags.” Checkmark replied, her hoof instinctively crawling toward the button that summoned security. They had trained her in a lot of things at the Canterlot School of Hospitality, but this was not in her job description. “Maybe you should keep better track of your things...?”
The white-cyan fur that covered Lyra’s head started to emit a few wisps of gray smoke. “Your employees were the ones who lost them. If you don’t get me them in the next minute, I swear to Celestia...”
“Excuse me, miss?”
Lyra turned to the new, gruff voice. However, the first thing she noticed was not the large crimson stallion who was sporting muscles which with he could probably rip Lyra apart in a few seconds. What she noticed first were her suitcases, all of which were covered in yellow-and-black tape. “Oh, there you are!” Lyra cheered, the smoke coming off of her body immediately blowing away. She galloped to the stallion, slipping two of the straps over her shoulder, and grabbing the other in her teeth. “Warf dif yif fan disf?” she asked through the leather.
“‘Where did I find it?’ I was the one who took it. All three of your bags were marked for a potential bomb threat. We don’t take that lightly around here. Now, if you’d just sign here, we’d let you go.”
The unicorn sighed, laid her red leather handbag on the ground, and quickly scribbled her signature. “Okay, can I go now?”
The guard stared at the clipboard on which Lyra had signed. “Wait, what’s your name?”
“Lyra.”
“Okay. What kind of signature is this?”
Lyra blinked. “Wait, what?”
“Well, it’s just an ‘L’ then a straight line. How is someone supposed to make out ‘Lyra’ from this?”
“Well, it’s a signature. It doesn’t really matter what it looks like, as long as I keep it consistent, right?”
“Kinda obnoxious, ain’t it?” he asked. Lyra rubbed her head with a hoof, both trying to soothe the headache that was attempting to drill into her brain, and suppressing a nasty insult. “Whatever. You can go.” As if his words were a starting pistol, Lyra shot out of the Canterlot International Airport as fast as she could, barely stopping to avoid the many business ponies rushing to their respective flights.
The Ponyville Airport wasn’t always as empty as it had been earlier that week. That was simply due to the timing of her flight; about midnight. However, even at it’s peak hours, it could never compare with the sheer size of Canterlot International Airport, especially at noontime. She stepped out into the warm afternoon air, filling her lungs with its fresh flavor. She had made it; after years of hard work, she was going to be living and working in Canterlot. It was a new slate. A chance to start over, as a new mare.
But yet, one piece of Ponyville lingered in her mind: Bon Bon. No matter how many times they had met during the week, Lyra just couldn’t bring herself to hurt her friend like that. However, what she had ended up doing may have been even worse: she left without saying goodbye. Well, not completely. Lyra had left a note on the door to her cottage, stating why she was leaving, and why should couldn’t admit it to her face. It was comparable, Lyra noted, to breaking up with somepony through a mailed letter. A wave of nausea came over her as she pictured what Bon Bon’s face would look like as she read the note. Would she cry? Would she scream? Would she hate Lyra forever? Lyra was not looking forward to the next time she saw Bon Bon.
She rummaged through her handbag, searching for the paper on which Noteworthy had written the address. “Okay, 112 8th Street...that’s on Bush Avenue, I think.” While Lyra had lived in Ponyville for most of her life, when she was younger she had been accepted in Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. As such, she knew the basic geography of Canterlot very well. Stepping out onto the curbside, Lyra whistled for one of the many yellow taxis that circled the airport.
After a few seconds, one pulled out of the neverending circle to approach her. She eyed it suspiciously; and for good reason. Instead of the usual number/letter code that adorned the license plates of most cars, this one only read ‘FRESH.’ The driver’s face was obscured by a pair of large, fuzzy pink dice. It pulled up along side her.
The driver was covered in shaggy brown fur, contrasting his greased black mane. “Yo, where ya goin’?”
“Uh...Eighth and Bush?”
He flashed a set of pearly white teeth, the center dotted by one golden square. “Yo, for a filly like you? No charge”
Lyra shuddered. “Um, no thanks, actually. I...think I hear my laundry calling! Thanksseeyabye!” She ran as fast as she could back to the airport.
Huh. Canterlot life was harder than she remembered.