//------------------------------// // Chapter Seven // Story: Ivory // by Lithe Kamitatsy //------------------------------// Vinyl marched down the hall from their apartment, a great deal more driven than she usually appeared. Octavia followed after her, trying to overtake and stop her. “Vinyl, please…” Octavia said. “Nope, we’re fixing this right now!” Vinyl insisted, marching over to Frederic’s apartment door. “He’s upset as it is, perhaps we should just leave him be for now…” Octavia suggested meekly. “Sorry Octy, nopony yells at my marefriend, for no good reason, on my watch,” Vinyl said. “I just don’t want to cause anymore trouble for him…” Octavia murmured, her emotions starting to get the better of her. “I just, I… I…” “Octy,” said Vinyl, her front hooves firmly on the other’s shoulders. “Listen to me. Are you listening?” Octavia, still a little shaken, nodded her head. “Okay,” said Vinyl. “Good. Octy, I need you to listen to me: this is not your fault. You did nothing wrong.” Octavia took a deep breath and nodded. She lifted a hoof, wiping her eye. “Th… thank you, Vinyl.” She took another breath. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know what we can do.” “Leave it to me,” said Vinyl. “I’ll see if I can get some sense in him. He’s acting like a selfish crybaby…” Vinyl then turned and started banging on his door. “Fred? Open up, we know you’re in there!” She continued to bang on his door. After a good five minutes of knocking to no response, Vinyl gave up. “Fine, but you better be there when we get back! I’m not done with you yet!” The two mares then left, discussing what could and what needed to be done about Frederic as they headed into town to run errands. The sound of heavy thumping from outside as well as the heavy, painful thumping inside of his skull awoke Frederic, his eyelids slowly opening as sunlight filtered in through the blinds. Stop it, Frederic thought, a little too groggy and hungover to actually speak. You’re too loud... It was then the scent of alcohol filled his nose, turning his stomach. Ugh, that smell… Frederic thought. He went to raise his forelegs and felt his fur sticking all over. Did I spill something on myself? he wondered, lifting a foreleg to his nose. He immediately recoiled when the scent of the scotch filled his sinuses, his stomach almost turning over completely. I need a shower! Frederic stood up and looked around. His apartment was a mess. The bottle of scotch had tipped over and spilled completely into the carpet, staining it. His sheet music was scattered about and his records lay all over the floor outside their housing. “What happened in here…?” he wondered out loud. He then tried to remember what had happened last night, and it all came to him in a painful torrent. All of it. “Oh… no, no no! What did I do?” he groaned, rubbing his aching forehead. He lumbered towards the shower, his body aching from galloping all the way home from the opera house without stopping. He turned on the hot water and stepped inside, the warmth of the water seeping all the way down to his skin. I can’t face Octavia after what I did last night, he thought. She didn’t deserve that. None of those ponies performing deserved it… he then gave a heavy sigh. I made a fool of myself and Octavia. I embarrassed myself in front of my peers, probably embarrassed that soprano… I’m sure Rarity must—he then felt a cold pang of anxiety run through him. He then gave an exasperated groan and banged his hoof on the wall in front of him. What else am I going to ruin? Once he was done with his shower, he set out to clean up the apartment. He did his best to clean the stain in the carpet, reorganized his sheet music and put all of his vinyl records back in their places. Once done, he then sighed, taking a seat at the small table near the kitchen. He sat there for a while, nursing his headache, his hoof tracing circles around his temples. This was probably the worst thing that had ever happened to him in his career. Worse than that time he’d thrown up on stage. He grabbed a quill, ink and parchment, and began to write. Once finished, he folded it and placed it in an envelope. He walked over to his door, opening it and shoving the letter into the mailbox beside the door, shutting the door and locking it behind him. “Sooooo he flaked and bailed?” asked Rainbow Dash, sitting across from Rarity. The two of them were at lunch, Rainbow herself enjoying a hay smoothie. “Well… I’m not really sure what happened,” said Rarity. “He seemed to be having some trouble during the first act and then he left at intermission.” She sighed. “I’m afraid I’d have to ask him what the trouble was, and I don’t think it would be particularly sensitive of me to do that. Octavia was quite upset.” “Uh-huh…” said Rainbow Dash, before making a very loud slurping noise with her straw. “Rainbow Dash, manners!” Rarity chided. “I’m in no mood!” she huffed. “Sorry, yeesh!” Rainbow Dash said. “It’s just a smoothie…” She put the drink down. “I’m not really sure what to tell ya Rarity. Maybe he just got cold hooves?” “That doesn’t sound like Frederic at all, though…” Rarity said, still unable to piece together what would send Frederic into such a topspin. “Well, if it were me, I’d go find the guy and knock some sense into him,” Rainbow Dash said thoughtfully. Rarity stared at Rainbow Dash, clearly not amused. “You know who’s really good with advice? Applejack,” Rainbow Dash suggested. “She’s honest, so she’ll give it to you straight.” “Perhaps you’re right, I’ll go talk to Applejack. Thank you again for your help, darling,” she said as Rainbow Dash took to the air. “Don’t worry about it, it’s what friends do!” Rainbow Dash said, leaving the bits she owed on the table in front of Rarity. Rarity made sure both bills were paid and left for Sweet Apple Acres. Rarity made her way through the front gate and around the back, where Applejack and Big Macintosh were hard at work pulling carts of apples. “C’mon Mac, just this cart n’ were done!” Applejack said, pulling her cart. Big Macintosh nodded, pulling his much larger cart with all the strength he could muster. They made it to their destination, off-loading the carts and taking a seat, wiping the sweat off their foreheads. “Hoo-wee is it hot!” Applejack exclaimed, wiping some sweat off of her brow with her hoof. “Applejack?” Rarity called out. “Oh, howdy Rarity! What brings ya by?” Applejack asked, surprised to receive a visitor. “Oh, just felt like having a little talk,” said Rarity. “Hello, Big Macintosh!” “Afternoon, Miss Rarity,” he said in his typical soft tone. “Mac, would ya mind givin’ us a bit?” Applejack asked. “Nnope,” he said, reading the situation. He could tell by the look on Rarity’s face that she wasn’t visiting for just a ‘little talk’. Big Macintosh excused himself, heading back into the house. “Follow me Rarity, I need to go wash up n’ we keep an extra shower out by the workshed,” Applejack said. “We can talk there.” “Alright,” Rarity said, following behind Applejack. They walked a good distance away from the main house, approaching the work-shed, a small shower stall standing next to it. Once Applejack had entered it, Rarity took a seat on a nearby stump. “So what’s on yer mind?” Applejack asked. “Oh, well,” Rarity said, taking a deep breath. “There was a little problem with the opera last night. Frederic, well… he ran off, for some reason.” “Uh-huh…?” “It just doesn’t add up,” Rarity said. “I’ve played out what Octavia told me over and over again and it just doesn’t make sense…” “Well, what’d she say?” “Well… she said he just wasn’t himself. It’s as if he was present physically, but not mentally. He continuously missed his cues and messed up his parts, and during intermission he tried to leave, and when she tried to stop him, he yelled at her and ran off,” Rarity explained. “Sounds to me like he got cranky and distracted,” said Applejack with a shrug of her shoulders. “That’s too simple, though… it doesn’t make sense. He’s far more professional than that,” Rarity said. “Well, then think about it—what coulda happened that made Fred yell at Octavia?” Applejack questioned. “That’s just it—I don’t know,” Rarity responded. “It just doesn’t make sense. They’ve been friends for years…” “That don’t mean nothin’ and you know it,” Applejack said. “You and me’ve been friends for ages and we still get on each others’ nerves.” “Octavia was very upset. She tried to say what it was but she wasn’t coherent enough to get it out properly.” “Only reason I can think of for him to act that way towards her would be if she did somethin’ to him, whether she knew it or didn’t,” Applejack reasoned. “If I know ponies, and I reckon I do, ponies don’t just fly off the handle like that for no reason.” “But that’s ridiculous. What could she have done to him?” “I dunno, that’s somethin’ you’re gonna have to find out from the source,” Applejack said, turning off the water. She grabbed her towel and quickly dried off, stepping out from the stall. “I figure you should probably get to him before Vinyl does. I can imagine she ain’t happy at all.” “I suppose I’ll just have to ask… if that’s proper, after all,” Rarity mused. “They might not want to talk about it.” “Maybe you should get Fred’s side of the story,” Applejack suggested. “All you’ve heard is Octavia’s, and having his side will only fill in more of the puzzle.” “I suppose you may be right. I’ll just have to be… delicate about it,” Rarity said. “Well, best of luck to ya,” said Applejack. “If I know my high society ponies, they have a tendency to not say what they mean, if you catch my drift.” “All too well,” said Rarity. “Hang in there Rares, it’ll be fine,” said Applejack, nudging Rarity’s shoulder. “I appreciate that, thank you,” said Rarity, making her way back to town, pondering her current conundrum. As Octavia and Vinyl made their rounds about town, a familiar blue-coated mare raced to find them. She spotted Octavia by one of the flower carts. “Octavia!” she called out. Octavia looked up, hearing her name called. She looked around, seeing the exasperated mare approaching. “Beauty Brass? What’s the matter? Is everything alright?” Octavia asked, concerned. “You… you need to… come to the Conservatory… it’s urgent…” Beauty gasped, having over-exerted herself a bit. Octavia, Vinyl and Beauty Brass all left for the Ponyville Conservatory of Music, where the ensemble regularly met on a weekly basis to discuss work and other projects. Upon arrival they found Harpo seated in his favorite chair, resting his head on one of his hooves. In the other hoof, he held a piece of paper. “Harpo?” asked Octavia, “what is it?” Harpo shook the paper. She took it in her hoof and read it, while Harpo produced an oversized handkerchief and mopped his brow. “‘To whom it may concern…’” she read, “‘in light of recent events that have both damaged my friendships and my career, it is with a heavy heart that I deliver to you my formal…’” Her eyes widened and she balked. “Resignation’!? He’s resigning?!” Harpo made a large, exaggerated sigh, then started dabbing his eyes with the handkerchief. “What are we going to do? We can’t just let him resign!” Beauty Brass protested. “We can’t just find another pianist who can learn the rep that fast!” “T-this is…” Octavia sputtered. “I have to talk him out of this!” “Is there anything we can do?” asked Beauty Brass. Honk? went Harpo on a bicycle horn that had seemingly materialized when nopony was looking. Octavia swiped the horn out of his hooves. “This is serious!” Octavia chided, casting an angry look at Harpo. “Hoooonk…” he went sadly. Beauty Brass sighed. “He got into the old Grouchy ‘Marks videos again,” Beauty Brass said. “It’s just another phase of his, it’ll pass.” “What are we going to do?” Octavia sighed, racking her brains to try and come up with an answer. “Is there any chance he’ll… just change his mind?” asked Beauty Brass. “Maybe… but if not?” asked Octavia. Harpo stood up and held out his hoof. “Harpo?” asked Octavia. Harpo gestured to the letter. “I think he wants you to give it to him,” said Beauty Brass. Octavia hesitatingly gave the letter to Harpo, who then promptly shoved it in his mouth. Octavia gave an irritated sigh, shaking her head at Harpo’s antics. “Well it did solve part of the problem…” mumbled Beauty Brass. “...Let me talk to him,” Vinyl said, her voice unusually calm. “What? What do you mean, Vinyl?” Octavia asked. “Because I’m just a little fed up with this nonsense,” said Vinyl. “What makes you think he’ll listen?” Beauty Brass asked. “Oh, he’ll listen,” Vinyl said almost threateningly. “And, no offense—really, I mean that—but I’m the one who stands the best chance of not making it awkward.” “What’s going on?” asked Beauty Brass. “Ughh…” said Vinyl, shaking her head. “Frederic has some personal issues he’s not dealing with very well. Let’s just say that this is entirely on him.” She made an irritated grunt. “I’ve tried to help with this, I’ve tried to be reasonable, and I’ve done my damnedest to be as supportive as possible…” She then stamped a hoof on the ground out of frustration. “Maybe we just need to give him time to himself…” Beauty Brass suggested. “He doesn’t just get to screw up and run away, that’s not how friendships work!” Vinyl yelled, fed up with Frederic’s terrible attempt at handling the situation. “I’m gonna handle this, you stay here!” she said, leaving the Conservatory. “Just you wait Fred, you’re gonna wish you hadn’t pissed me off,” she growled, making a beeline for the apartment complex. “I’m going with her… the last thing I need is for her to kill him,” Octavia said. “We’ll fix this, you’ll see,” she said to Beauty Brass as she left to follow Vinyl. I hope… “Octavia…” Harpo said, breaking character as he had decided the situation was now serious enough to warrant it. “Is this about… Well, I believe I was the first one Frederic told about his… feelings.” “We need to figure out what happened last night… I refuse to believe the pony that yelled at me was Frederic,” Octavia said, taking a moment to look at Harpo while she spoke. “I’m determined to prove it.” “Well, it’d be quite a case of identity theft,” said Harpo. “You know what I mean!” Octavia retorted. “We’ll be back with Frederic later.” “Best of luck,” said Harpo, giving a salute. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make sure my other half doesn’t go too far…” Frederic, meanwhile, was making his way to Carousel Boutique, oblivious to the impending hurricane of a mare headed straight for their apartment complex. I’m not exactly ready to talk to Octavia just yet, so I guess my best bet would be to start by apologizing to Rarity… he thought to himself, making his way through town. He made the mental checklist: the bridges to repair and the bridges to burn. Well, he didn’t really think of them as burning bridges. More… abandoning the bridge before he caught on fire himself. Once done, Frederic then began to go over in his mind how exactly he was going to apologize to Rarity, provided that she was still willing to talk to him. He’d say he was sorry for ruining the performance. He’d say he was sorry for bolting without even saying hello. He’d say he was sorry for any distress he’d caused as a result of the fallout. He’d even say it was entirely his own fault for being a wreck who couldn’t keep a lid on his own emotions. He arrived at the Boutique, anxiety coursing through him. He had no idea what to expect. He tentatively raised a hoof, and knocked on the door. Rarity’s ears perked when she heard somepony at the door. She got up from her sewing machine and answered the door, finding a very subdued and quite nervous-looking Frederic. “Oh, hello Frederic,” Rarity said. “Rarity, I need to apologize,” said Frederic. “My behavior was completely inexcusable. Both as a professional and… as a host—” “Before you go on, come inside,” Rarity said, interrupting him. She then opened the door to the Boutique, allowing the stallion to enter. She then shut the door behind them. “Follow me,” she said. The pair made their way to the kitchen. “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the small coffee table in the room. Rarity herself went over to the stove, setting a pot of tea to brew. She then returned to the table, taking a seat herself. “So…” Rarity started, “While I understand last night was not what you would call a ‘good night’ by any definition of that term, can you please explain to me what exactly was going through your head?” she asked. “I—I keep trying to wrap my brain around what Octavia told me and it just does not add up. I never figured you for that sort of behaviour. I… am a bit disappointed, truthfully,” she said. Frederic felt the weight of her words, the bitter sting gnawing away at his conscience. “I…” Frederic started, then stopped, giving a deep sigh. “It’s very, very complicated,” he said. “Try me,” Rarity said. Frederic gathered his thoughts and began to speak. “Well… it happened shortly after you left to find your seat,” Frederic said, forcing himself to recount the events of last night. The pain in his heart gradually intensified, but still he pressed on. He felt that he at least owed her the truth. “I went to find Octavia so we could find our seats among the orchestra, and…” Frederic stopped short, feeling a knot beginning to form in his throat. “‘And’?” Rarity repeated. Frederic shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He bit down on his lower lip, hoping that the physical pain would distract him from the emotional hurricane raging in his chest. “I… haven’t been completely straight with you,” said Frederic, struggling to voice his thoughts. “This… is probably going to sound very petty. And it is,” Frederic said. Rarity then noticed his voice was shaking slightly. Frederic had to take a moment to regather his thoughts, and continued forward. “I… I saw,” he started, stopping again as his voice cracked. Rarity simply watched him as he spoke, her confusion and disappointment slowly dwindling. “I… saw them kiss, and…” It was then that a single tear escaped the corner of Frederic’s eye, and Rarity’s stoic expression immediately shifted to one of regret and understanding. “Frederic…” Rarity said softly. Frederic raised a hoof. “Please… let me finish,” Frederic requested, Rarity nodding in acknowledgement. “I… saw them kiss,” Frederic repeated. “Now, you’d think that wouldn’t be so bad,” he stammered as more tears began to make their way down his face. “That is, until…” he then stopped again, taking a deep, ragged breath. The poor stallion was shaking, unable to get a grip on the rush of emotion. “Until… they said they loved each other…” he said. He bowed his head, burying his face into a hoof. Rarity’s heart ached. “Oh, Frederic… it was Octavia who broke your heart, wasn’t it?” she asked softly, placing a hoof on his. Frederic gave a small nod. “I understand your pain all too well…” Frederic looked up at her. “I… I thought I was in love with someone too, once. Not so long ago. Dreamed about him a lot. But, well… Like with you, it just turned out to be something I couldn’t have.” Frederic sniffled, blinking more tears out of his eyes. Rarity then summoned a napkin from the countertop, bringing it to her hoof. “It’s okay, Frederic…” she said softly. She moved closer to him, raising the napkin. “Lower your hoof,” she said. Frederic complied, and Rarity gently began to dab at his cheeks, wiping away his tears. “It all makes sense now… and believe me when I tell you that I feel for you, I really do,” she soothed as she threw away the napkin. “I’m sorry for upsetting you, I feel terrible,” she said as she got up to retrieve the pot of tea as it was now whistling. “I don’t like crying,” Frederic said, sniffling again. “It makes me feel like I’m just being childish,” he said. “While I would prefer not to see somepony I care about in such a state of emotional distress, I do think it is better to just let it out rather than keep it in,” Rarity said thoughtfully. “I have always disliked the stigma that stallions should not cry because it denotes weakness. Rather, I would prefer it if they had a good cry or something of the sort once in a while. Celestia knows it can not be healthy,” she said. “Not to mention I like the idea of coddling him in his time of need,” she said with a small blush. He laughed a little. “Well… maybe.” Frederic raised a hoof to his cheeks where Rarity had cleaned his tears. He felt a small smile crease his face as he felt genuinely touched by her sweet gesture. “I… know I shouldn’t carry on like this. Octavia and Vinyl are together. I can’t change that. And I won’t gain anything by pining away. Still…” “I understand how difficult it is to move on,” Rarity said, bringing over two cups of tea. She served Frederic first then returned to her seat. “While it would be best for both you and Octavia if you moved forward, I do know how… problematic that can be,” she said. “I remember I cried for days after the Gala ended,” she said, stirring her tea. “I was so heartbroken that I had put so much stock in a stallion that turned out to be completely worthless,” she said. “If you don’t mind me asking, who exactly were you after?” Frederic said. “Blueblood,” Rarity said, almost disgusted by just uttering his name. “Oh… yeah,” Frederic said, completely understanding what she meant. “Well, at least you don’t have to be around him all the time. That’s a plus, right?” “I suppose,” Rarity said, unconvinced. “I still feel like I wasted a monumental amount of time and energy on him—neither of which I will ever get back.” “Truthfully, I don’t think I’d want it back,” Frederic snarked, eliciting a small laugh from Rarity. “You can do better than that.” “Well, I know that,” said Rarity, “but I wouldn’t want to say it.” She then drank some of the tea, reveling in the warmth it brought. Frederic did the same, enjoying it completely. A few moments of silence passed, and Frederic simply looked at Rarity. Now that he thought about it, she was a rather lovely mare. The way she kept herself groomed almost to perfection and her soft, sapphire eyes really stood out to him. He felt as though he had never really looked at her before. He then began to go through a mental checklist of sorts: she was attractive, they had similar interests, was obviously kind-hearted… Wait… Frederic thought. What am I doing? Why am I evaluating Rarity? he wondered, somewhat confused. He wasn’t sure what to think… or to feel. Frederic was pulled from his thoughts as Rarity began to speak to him. “Frederic? Are you alright? You’ve been looking my way for a few moments now,” Rarity asked. Frederic blushed slightly in embarrassment. “Oh, um, fine,” Frederic said, swallowing nervously. Rarity took notice of this, suddenly self-conscious. Was he staring at me? Rarity thought, her heart skipping slightly. Was I staring at him? Damn, she caught me staring! I hope she doesn’t think I’m weird! Frederic thought, panicking for a brief moment. Wait, why am I panicking!? Another period of awkward silence permeated the room as the two averted their gazes, Rarity suddenly taking a deep interest in her hooves while Frederic examined the small cracks in the ceiling. Breaking the silence, Rarity cleared her throat. “So, what do you plan to do next?” she asked. “Easy,” Frederic said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “I’m resigning.” “What?!” “I don’t think there’s a way to really recover from my actions the other night,” said Frederic. “I can’t imagine many ponies still wanting to work with somepony who’s liable to flake in the middle of performance.” “But surely, you’re not going to… do that again. This was one circumstance.” “Perhaps,” said Frederic, nodding slowly. “But would they believe that?” “Frederic, these are ponies you’ve worked with. They should know you better than that.” “That’s just it Rarity—they know me and I know them too well…” Frederic said with a small sigh. “Until I shake this, maybe it would be best for me to resign, or maybe just take a leave of absence… I can teach lessons and work as rehearsal pianist, at least, so it’s not like I’ll be without work, but I think it best if I just avoid Octavia for a while.” “Promise me that you’ll at least apologize to her first,” Rarity said. “Of course I will, I owe her that much at the very least… I just don’t know how to go about it,” Frederic admitted. “Well…” said Rarity, thinking on it. “Maybe it would be best to compose your thoughts and think about what you should say.” She paused for a moment. “I could help you with it.” “That would be a big help,” Frederic said. “Think nothing of it,” Rarity said. “Though I can imagine how difficult to be to apologize for a feeling, whether good or bad. I think the first thing you need to do is be honest.” “Thinking on it a little more, perhaps apologizing to Octavia won’t be so difficult,” Frederic said. “My biggest concern would be dealing with Vinyl. I can only imagine how upset she is…” “I suppose I can understand why she’d be upset,” Rarity said. “Only to a point, though. She needs to understand that public displays of affection like what you saw can have an adverse effect on others with what happened to you being a prime example.” Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by heavy knocking on the front door. “FREDERIC!” Vinyl yelled, absolutely furious as she pounded on Rarity’s front door. They had discovered where he was through a nosy neighbor. “Get out here now! You’re not getting away from me again!” “Vinyl I’m begging you, please stop! You’re going to cause a scene!” Octavia pleaded. “Oh, right, because everyone’s allowed to cause a scene but me!” said Vinyl. “At least I’m only embarrassing you and not a bunch of ponies who bought tickets!” she spat. Frederic blanched at the sound of Vinyl yelling his name, turning a shade of white that almost matched Rarity’s coat. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Rarity took a deep breath, and exhaled. “You let me handle this,” she said. She got up from her seat, marched to the front door, and threw it open. “Rarity, I need to see Frederic,” Vinyl insisted. “Absolutely not, not in that state,” Rarity refused. “Listen, you need to understand that—” “Oh, I understand perfectly. What I understand, is that the reason this all happened was because of a public display of affection that Frederic incidentally bore witness to, and you thoughtlessly went after him as if he was the one at fault! I understand the two of you deeply care for one another and that you wish to show it, but what you need to understand is that when you do that sort of thing in public, it affects other ponies, and unfortunately this time it was Frederic that got caught in the crossfire!” Rarity said forcefully. Vinyl stared, dumbfounded. “Is this a joke? Is he really going down that road?” she scoffed. “He’s just being petty! He’s being a selfish—” “Don’t you think he already knows that? Don’t you think he’s beaten himself up enough over this whole mess? Because the stallion that’s sitting in my kitchen right now isn’t even a fraction of the stallion that was described to me last night! The stallion in there is a humbled, guilt-ridden, heartbroken individual that has no idea how to deal with it!” Rarity said. “Also, the only ‘joke’ here is the fact that you can’t seem to grasp that Frederic’s heart is in pieces and last night you inadvertently made it worse,” Rarity said, interrupting her again. “Oh, so, somehow this is now all my fault?” Vinyl scoffed. “I’ve been the one trying to extend the olive branch! I, I, I, I took him out to the club! I went to the opera and sat through that speak-singing stuff!” “Recitative,” Octavia mumbled. Rarity had had enough. “What you didn’t do was try to get his perspective on things! The poor stallion broke down in front of me only minutes ago, and you expect me to let you see him so you can do more damage?” Rarity then dug in her hooves. “You will have to move me first,” she uttered, staring Vinyl straight in the eye. She then looked at Octavia. “You may enter, Octavia. He has been meaning to apologize,” she then returned her glare to Vinyl. “But until you settle down, you’re not setting one hoof in my home!” “Rarity, don’t make me make you move,” Vinyl warned. “Oh, I would love to see you try,” Rarity said. “Vinyl, that’s enough!” Octavia commanded, finally putting her hoof down. “You getting bent out of shape does nothing for the situation! Now wait here, patiently.” “But—” “No buts!” Octavia said. “Fine,” Vinyl said as Octavia moved past her. Octavia did as she was told, making her way past Rarity and into the Boutique. She quietly made her way to the kitchen, where Frederic was quietly drinking his tea, staring out the nearby window. He seemed tense and a little on-edge. “Frederic?” Octavia called quietly. Frederic just about jumped out of his skin, getting out of his chair and nearly lifting the chair with his front hooves. “Don’t make me use this!” Frederic said, realizing who he was speaking to was Octavia. “Oh… h-hello, Octavia…” he stammered, returning to his seat, to which Octavia took the seat across from him. “Are you alright?” Octavia asked. “Well, I…” said Frederic. “I’m not sure I really know how to answer that.” He then gave a small sigh. “First and foremost, I want to apologize for yelling at you,” he said. “It was a panic response. I was confused, frustrated, and in all sorts of mental and emotional disarray and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. I accidentally took it out on you, and that isn’t fair.” He took another breath. “I’m sorry, Octavia.” “It’s okay, Frederic… I guess I’m just a little confused as to why this happened,” Octavia said. Frederic went through the process of telling Octavia what he had seen and how it made him feel, albeit with a lesser amount of difficulty than he had with Rarity. “I’m sorry Frederic, I had no idea you saw that,” Octavia said, feeling slightly ashamed of herself. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have reacted the same way…” “I… Know I shouldn’t. Vinyl’s reaction might be a little… large, but I can’t really fault her for it. What I did was inexcusable. I disrupted the performance, I upset you, I embarrassed our fellow performers… and I got drunk again last night. I tried to drink away my pain and all it ended up doing was making things worse for myself.” “Was that when you wrote your resignation?” “What?” “Don’t worry,” said Octavia. “Harpo ate it.” “Oh,” said Frederic. “Well… No. I was sober for that. That was this morning, when I took a good look at myself—drenched in scotch, hungover, my apartment a complete mess… I felt that I would only continue to be a hindrance to the group if I continued to carry on this way.” “Please Frederic, don’t resign,” Octavia pleaded. “We need you, you’re essential to the cohesiveness of our group,” she said. “Perhaps I was too hasty in saying I would resign, though I… I suppose some time off would do me some good,” Frederic relented. “That much I can accept,” Octavia said, relieved. “As your friend and as somepony who cares about you, all I want is what is best for you, and I know deep down in your heart that leaving our group is not what you want.” “Forgive me if this comes off a little rudely, but for now, I feel I need to get away from you,” Frederic said, feeling sadness and guilt wrack his heart. “I know that sounds like a horrible thing to say, but I feel that maybe I’ll finally break this if I stay away from you for a time.” Octavia sighed, her expression mirroring the sadness she felt. “I understand,” she murmured. “I hope you don’t think any less of me for saying that,” Frederic said softly. “I’ll admit it does make me sad to hear it, but I understand. If that’s what it takes to get you back to where you need to be, then by all means, don’t stop on my account,” Octavia stated. “Right,” Frederic said. “If… it’s alright with you, I think I need some time alone.” “Understood,” Octavia said. “Take care of yourself, okay?” “Yeah, you too...” Frederic replied. Octavia trotted over to him and gave him a quick embrace, turning to leave. “You’re welcome to come back whenever you’re ready,” Octavia assured. “Yeah…” Frederic said softly, the knot forming in his throat again. Octavia then disappeared from view, making her way back to the front door where Rarity was still talking to Vinyl. “Thank you, Rarity. I’ll be going now,” Octavia stated. “But what about—” “We’re leaving,” Octavia said forcefully. “Frederic’s had enough for one day.” Vinyl grumbled, then acquiesced. “Fine,” she said. The couple bid farewell to Rarity, heading back to their apartment. Rarity approached him. “Well… how did it go?” “Probably about as well as it could have…” said Frederic. “I will say this, though…” “What’s that, Frederic?” “I could really use a hug,” Frederic croaked, his voice cracking. Rarity silently made her way to Frederic, wrapping her forelegs around him. His head rested on her chest, her heart beating in Frederic’s ear. He simply closed his eyes, allowing himself to be washed away by his emotions as Rarity simply held him, offering a comforting body for him to support himself on.