Three and a half weeks later, a knock came at the door at nine in the morning.
Octavia, sitting at the counter and finishing a cup of tea, rinsed the glass and made her way for the door. The knock came again. “Coming, coming!” Octavia called as she quickened her pace towards the front door and opened it.
Frederic was there, along with a grey unicorn with black hair and blue eyes that Octavia recognized as her concertmaster and first-chair violinist, Arpeggio.
“Thank you both for coming,” Octavia said. “It’ll be easier since we’ve got a unicorn now as my roommate is… indisposed.”
Frederic and Arpeggio looked in at Vinyl Scratch sitting on the couch. She had on a pair of pink headphones with blue stars over each earpiece. A small thudding noise could be heard and she was staring off vacantly at the powered-down television sitting on a small table.
“She’ll be like that for an hour or so,” Octavia continued. “Anyways, we should get moving.”
“Figuratively and literally,” Frederic said. “Now, what do you have?”
Octavia led them to her room. Most of her things had been packed into boxes. Only four things stood free; a bed, a dresser, a shelving unit, and her cello.
“What do we do first?” Arpeggio asked. “I’d think the bed since it’s largest.”
“Vinyl can keep it,” Octavia said. “I found a new one down in Ponyville. It’ll be delivered the day after tomorrow. But we can go ahead and take the mattress and comforter first.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Arpeggio took up the mattress and comforter in a single cast from his horn and slowly levitated them up and out of the room. Octavia and Frederic went tandem on the dresser and followed Arpeggio through the apartment and out onto a landing. Arpeggio watched as Octavia and Frederic carefully maneuvered the dresser down the steps from the second floor to the street and followed with the mattress soon afterwards.
A medium-sized covered cart with a sign saying “Canterlot-Ponyville Rail Transport” stood in the street, attached to a large dark-brown earth pony stallion with a blue-and-white cap and a red bandana tied around his neck. A bag of oats was around his face and he was eating from it serenely and didn’t even mind the shifting of weight as Arpeggio placed the mattress inside. This was soon followed by him taking the dresser in his magic and slowly maneuvering it inside, as well.
For the better portion of an hour, they continued this way. The large items and furniture were loaded in first. Next came the heavier boxes filling the final areas of the bottom of the cart. Next came some lighter boxes, and finally a few carefully wrapped valuables and heirlooms Octavia had received from her mother. At this point the cart was very nearly full. Octavia went back inside, and she combed her room and the kitchen with Frederic and Arpeggio looking for anything that she might have missed.
When she was sure that no stone was left unturned and no drawer had been left unchecked, Octavia took her key and set it on the kitchen counter. She took one more look at the apartment and at Vinyl, who, she realized no longer had the bass thudding in her ear.
There were so many happy memories here, and yet in the past few months there had been almost as much frustration. Here was her first major party that Vinyl had helped set up. Here was the first time that she and Vinyl had gone to bed together. Over there was the stain from when Octavia had danced and spilled an orange drink, but she fell over laughing because Vinyl looked like she'd dyed her hair orange, and Octavia had joked that she was finally able to go into a club and not feel out of place.
And there was their first fight, at the kitchen counter over a gaudy lamp that Vinyl wanted to put in. There was the first time they had escalated to shouting, over Vinyl and some of her friends playing music when Octavia was trying to practice even though it had been lowered so much already. There was the prank that cost Octavia an hour at practice trying to remove silly string from her mane.
As she turned around to leave, Octavia wondered if some of those weren't her fault for being so tightly wound. She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and began to walk out the door.
“Tavi, wait.”
Octavia turned back around. Vinyl was standing behind to her. The headphones were around her neck, and her face was clear of glasses. She looked at Octavia almost impassively for a long time, then sighed and her face turned into a frown.
“Good luck, I guess.”
Octavia wasn’t sure where this was going. “Thanks.”
“Will I see you around?” Vinyl said after a long silence.
“I’ll be in town for practices a few times a month. And maybe to visit sometimes.”
Vinyl nodded. “Maybe not, then.”
“Not unless we go out of our way.”
Vinyl’s short laugh was weak and almost scornful. “Don’t know about that anytime soon.”
“I kind of figured that.”
Vinyl’s face turned into a small smile that seemed to barely hang on. “Well… hope things turn out well for you in Ponyville.”
Octavia nodded. “I’ll see you around.”
Vinyl held out a hoof. Octavia held out her own hoof, wondering if it would be some sort of final prank, when Vinyl took a step forward and wrapped the hoof around her in a hug. For a moment, Octavia was surprised by the gesture. But soon she wrapped her own hoof around Vinyl and hugged her back. For all her faults, the unicorn really did care about her.
Vinyl released Octavia for a moment. "Until we meet again," she said, and walked off.
Octavia waited a moment longer and watched Vinyl go off to her room before finally walking out the door. She took a deep breath, sighed, and walked down the steps to where Frederic and Arpeggio were waiting at the bottom of the steps.
“You are going to come back sometimes, right?” Frederic asked. “We’ll be missing you up here, you know.”
“And we can’t have our first-chair cellist leave so soon,” Arpeggio added. “We’ll have a right difficult time fixing that mess.”
“I’m not leaving Canterlot entirely,” Octavia said. “I’ll be able to catch a train here and back. I’ll be here for practices, concerts, and the occasional gala or other sort of soiree.”
“It’s still a pity you’re leaving the city, though,” Arpeggio said. “I’ll miss seeing you around at the cafés.”
“And the bookstores,” Frederic agreed. “One of the staples of the music section is skipping town. I understand, though. Take some time to yourself and ease off some of the stress before you come back. The next concert isn’t for four months.”
“Thank you, both of you. Arpeggio, keep me in the loop; I’ll still be able to practice. Frederic, tell Noteworthy that I said goodbye and that I wish you both the best of luck.”
“He’ll be glad to know,” Frederic said. “We’ll make sure to keep in touch, either by phone or by letter if Ponyville is that rustic.”
Octavia laughed. “I’ll have a phone. I can’t be that stranded from you all.”
Frederic and Arpeggio waved to Octavia and walked away. Octavia walked over to the brown stallion at the front of the cart.
“Promontory, is it? I’m ready now. Let’s head for the station.”
The stallion nodded and set off at a walk. Octavia kept pace beside him as they slowly maneuvered through the streets. Promontory seemed to know a few shortcuts, and they were very quickly at the station where a cheery train met them at the platform, steam gently hissing from the engine and Welcome Abode waiting at the entrance of one of the freight cars at the train’s back half.
“Over here, Promontory!” Abode called. “We’re ready to secure.”
Promontory walked over to where Welcome Abode was waiting. A ramp was brought out from the car and slowly lowered onto the platform. Promontory carefully moved the cart so he could back in and took careful steps back into the boxcar. When the cart was in position, Welcome Abode helped unstrap him from the cart and the two worked together to secure the cart to the side of the car with numerous buckles and straps.
“Alright,” Welcome Abode said. “That should do until we hit Ponyville. Promontory here will make sure nothing gets damaged. He’s our representative on this railroad; you’re in good hooves.”
Promontory raised his head up proudly.
The engine let off a shrill whistle. Promontory headed into the boxcar as Octavia followed Welcome Abode into the passenger car in front of it. Abode picked a nice compartment with a fine wood table in between two plush upholstered seats and sat down, Octavia taking the seat opposite her.
No sooner was Octavia seated than the train gave another whistle and began slowly moving away from the platform and the station. The crowded buildings and overcast skies of Canterlot began to crawl by and Octavia felt a sort of thrill. It was almost strange, watching the past so visibly move behind her as it was through the windows of the train car.
“Excited?” Welcome Abode said. “I know the feeling. I used to come from Manehattan. It’s a big change, but I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
“It’s still doesn’t feel real,” Octavia said. “Like I’m afraid I’ll wake up tomorrow and find out I’m dreaming and none of it actually happened.”
“Oh, it’ll be real.” Welcome Abode smiled gently. “You’ll know it when you wake up in the new place tomorrow. Now, you’re payment was accepted, so all we need now is a few signatures and you’ll be good to go. It’ll take away some of the butterflies if we’re working on this, too.”
For thirty-five minutes, Octavia was guided through multiple pieces of paperwork; rental agreements, payment information, bank financing through which the rent was gotten down to 775 bits a month, cleaning and mail services, change of address. Octavia initialed the papers dozens of times as Welcome Abode guided her through every step of the process.
By the time the final signature was placed and Welcome Abode was shaking hooves with Octavia for finalizing the rent on the house, the announcer over the P.A. system was saying they had five minutes left before Ponyville.
Octavia and Welcome Abode gathered themselves up as the train began to slow down. They talked pleasantly and headed over to the door as the train slowed down and gently steamed into the Ponyville station. A porter came and opened the door and Welcome Abode and Octavia gently stepped down onto the platform. Abode led the way to the boxcar where Promontory was already undoing the buckles and straps on the cart. A quick check to make sure nothing was damaged, then Promontory was attached to the cart and they began walking through Ponyville to the house at the edges of town.
The house was bright and sparkling. The walls were completely white and clean and the dark oak looked like it had been expertly polished. Welcome Abode officially handed over the keys to Octavia, and Octavia was allowed to unlock the door and take the first steps into her new house.
It hadn’t changed a bit. The place was still as charming as ever, and Octavia still loved the vaulted ceiling in the main room, the polished tile in the kitchen, the guest bedroom leading into the back sunroom, and the wide, airy feeling of her own bedroom. Already a fine oak frame with a semi-ornate headboard was placed inside.
The only difference was a tray of sandwiches, a tin of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies, and a jar of a weak apple cider.
“A welcome gift,” Welcome Abode said. “From Ponyville. The sandwiches were brought from a sandwich shop called Grinder’s Subs, the cider from Sweet Apple Acres, and the cookies are from Sugarcube Corner. Two dozen, I believe.”
“It’s excellent,” Octavia said.
Without delay, they started unpacking the cart. Which was a lot slower without a unicorn helping them out, Octavia reflected.
The heirlooms were brought in box by box as they went from Promontory to Welcome Abode to Octavia. Then came some of the lighter boxes, then came the furniture. The dresser came in with just Octavia and Welcome Abode working together. Then came the mattress, which required Promontory’s help so the giant, queen-sized mattress didn’t fall over onto anything or scrape against the walls.
But the shelving unit was outright murder.
The cart was parked on a small landing. From there, a set of steps went up to the porch and portico that marked the entrance of the house. It wasn’t quite a flight, but still a long way up. The problem was enhanced by the shelving unit, a large thing as wide as Octavia was long and twice as high as she was. It was made of a light balsa wood reinforced by metal and stronger oak and pine, but its size made it unwieldy.
Promontory started pushing it out of the cart. Octavia tried lifting one end herself, but found it difficult to balance. So Welcome Abode came up alongside her to help balance the weight and they managed to stabilized it. But as soon as it left the cart Promontory was alone on one side and there wasn’t another pony helping them.
“You got a hold of it?” Welcome Abode called to Promontory.
Promontory nodded and looked at Octavia.
Octavia nodded back. “Alright. Take it slowly…”
They had barely made it to the steps and had to stop to rebalance the shelves. Every step they took made the shelving unit sway and lurch, and turning it so that Promontory’s back was to the staircase almost caused it to fall over if it wasn’t for Octavia quickly going over to place both hooves at the back.
Octavia had readjusted herself to Abode’s side when a voice called out.
“Hey! You need help up there?”
Octavia looked over to the sound of the voice. To the right of the house and at the bottom of the hill, a young male unicorn had just stepped out. He had a teal-gray coat, a dark gray mane, friendly blue eyes, and a cutie mark of three white stars. He wore what looked like was a black collared shirt and a bright blue tie that was almost white. A pair of white cuffs peeked out from under the sleeves of his shirt on his front hooves.
“We’re good, Neon,” Welcome Abode said. “We got this. Alright, everypony. Let’s try this again…”
“Are you sure?” The unicorn approached them as they started up the steps.
“We got this,” Octavia said. “Hey, slow down!”
But it was too late. Octavia was rushed up the first step and caught her hoof at the edge of the second step. The hoof slipped easily and quickly and Octavia started to fall forwards, screaming out. The weight balance became shifted and Welcome Abode suddenly found the shelving unit falling forwards and out of her grasp. Promontory strengthened his grip, but it wasn’t enough and the unit began to fall over.
But before too much damage could be done, the shelving unit was engulfed in a bright blue aura and halted in its tracks. The unicorn had deftly caught the unit and was gently righting it again.
“How about I take this?” he said with a smile.
Octavia, thankful for the help, allowed the unicorn to help out. She directed him into the large main room and over to one of the walls by the fireplace.
Octavia sighed. “Thanks.”
The unicorn nodded. “No problem,” he said. “You need any more help?”
Octavia shrugged. “There’s not much, but I guess it’s appreciated.”
The unicorn gladly helped them fish the rest of the stuff out of the cart and was able to take the heavier boxes with ease. Promontory helped him a bit with the heavy boxes while Octavia and Welcome Abode got the lighter ones, and with the four of them working everything was in the house in under half an hour.
“Well, I’ve got to go to work,” the unicorn said when all the boxes had been inserted into the main room of the house. “Hate to break things off early; I was just on lunch break at the time.”
“It’s alright, Neon,” Welcome Abode said. “Thanks for the help.”
“Don’t mention it.” The unicorn turned to Octavia. “You need help moving anything else, come over and let me know. I’m just at the bottom of the hill if you need anything.”
Octavia nodded. “Sure.”
The unicorn smiled, gave a small easy-going salute, and trotted off.
“There’s Ponyville hospitality for you!” Welcome Abode said. “It’s quite normal for stuff like that to happen. He’s a good colt.”
“Seems like it,” Octavia mused.
The sandwiches were remembered and Octavia sat down with Welcome Abode and Promontory to a delicious lunch of tomato, daisy, and daffodil sandwiches, still warm chocolate chip cookies, and a fine cider. They ate heartily yet there was still enough for Octavia to have lunch for two more days. The sandwiches and cider were wrapped up and placed in the fridge and Octavia closed the tin of the cookies.
“Well, I think that about covers it,” Welcome Abode said once the lunch mess had been put away. “My office will be open if you need anything related to the house. I know ponies of all kinds if ever it needs work done.”
“Thank you so much, Abode,” Octavia replied gratefully. “And thank you for all the help. You too, Promontory.”
Promontory gave a smile and walked off.
“Working around trains and the smoke for so long has made him susceptible to sore throats,” Abode said. “You’ll have to excuse him. But if you ask, he can also help with just about anything.”
“Thanks again. It’s nice to know that the ponies around here are so accommodating.”
“I know it will take a bit of time getting used to it from the big city,” Abode commented, “but I’m sure you’ll fit in fine. Take care, Octavia.”
Octavia watched and waved as Welcome Abode left. For the first time since nine o’clock that morning, it had been quiet. She looked at the clock and saw it was now almost four. It wouldn’t hurt to sort through her boxes for a while.
She got through organizing and putting away the contents of two boxes – her bedding and her shower accessories – before being completely bored out of her mind.
But… what was there to do, exactly? Octavia had been through Ponyville twice. She knew nothing of the layout and few of the ponies, the only three being Welcome Abode who was probably going back to the office, Promontory who worked the rails, and a unicorn she didn’t even know the name of.
Brilliant beginning…
After a few minutes and another cookie eaten, Octavia decided it wouldn’t hurt to at least talk to the pony in the house down below. He had been nice enough to help her with moving, after all even though they didn’t do much talking.
The matter settled, Octavia left the house and headed down the small hill. She walked down a small path then headed left at the bottom to get to the house. There was nothing too exciting about it; it seemed a sort of cookie-cutter version of many of the other houses with the exception of a small addition that seemed like the walls were a bit thicker than the rest of the house.
Octavia walked down and knocked on the door. No one answered. Octavia tried again. Still nothing came up. Then she remembered the unicorn had said he was on lunch break from work and had been heading back. Poor timing on her asking for him, and she knew nothing of his hours. Octavia turned to walk away.
“Hey.”
Octavia looked back at the house where the voice had come from. The door was now open and the unicorn was looking at her, still wearing the collared shirt and tie.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I was working on something and didn’t hear at first.”
“That’s alright. I just remembered I didn’t get your name.”
“It’s Neon. Neon Lights.”
“Oh… I’m Octavia.”
Neon Lights smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Octavia.” He opened the door a little wider. “You want to come inside for a minute?”
Octavia shrugged and followed Neon Lights inside.
It was rather plain inside. The walls were almost entirely a beige color and rather smooth. There was a living room with a couch and chair and a small TV and radio and a kitchen with simple tile counters and basic appliances and three stools sitting at a bar counter. A few pictures hung on the walls – two of Neon himself with a microphone in front of him and standing on a stage, another with him standing next to someone obscured by an odd light, and another of him playing a violin.
“You want something to drink?” Neon asked, snapping Octavia out of her reverie.
“What have you got?” Octavia said. She stepped gingerly through as though she was afraid of slipping again. It felt strange. She’d been inside other ponies’ houses before, but usually with more familiarity than Neon was.
“Well, I’ve got water, cider, some sasparilla-based thing, lemonade, and some Earl grey or chai tea.”
“Um… lemonade will be fine.”
“Cool. You’re not opposed to a bottle, are you?”
“I can manage with hooves, if that’s what you’re asking.”
There was the sound of two bottles opening in rapid succession and Neon came into the living room holding both the bottles in his aura. “Come on and sit down for a minute.”
Octavia suddenly realized she was exhausted. She carefully set herself down on the single chair and relaxed into it. Neon, meanwhile, took the far end of the couch away from Octavia and reclined against the back. One of the lemonade bottles floated over to Octavia and the magic aura went away as soon as she managed to grab a hold of it.
Octavia took a sip. The lemonade was cool and refreshing, slightly sweet and slightly tart, and it felt good going down her throat. She took another sip and sighed.
“So, where you’d come from?” Neon asked.
“Canterlot,” Octavia replied. “I had an apartment there. Figured I needed to get away from the stress of the city for a while.” Then, realizing something was missing. “Yourself?”
“Used to be in Manehattan.” Neon took a sip of his lemonade. “I write and play music. Had a decent career going. Released my breakout second album two years ago. Life wasn’t too bad, then I had to get away from the swarms, so I moved out here.”
“Oh, you play music?” Octavia was pleased to have already found someone who shared an interest. “Which instruments?”
“I can do violin,” Neon said, motioning to the picture on the wall. “Otherwise, I really like guitar, drums, and synthesizers. And I can sing.”
Octavia thought about it. “My old roommate had a synthesizer,” she said. “She was fond of doing… rather repetitive pieces.”
“Can’t stand songs like that,” Neon said. “My father used to call them ‘bird calls’ since they use such a limited amount of notes.” He laughed. Octavia found it slightly funny, but not enough to laugh with him. “What about you?” Neon continued. “I saw you have a cello.”
“Yes. That’s the main one. I can also play violin, clarinet, flute, and piano.”
“Ah, classically trained. I’m guessing your cutie mark then means you read music very well.”
“I can hum any piece you give me without seeing it once before. Mostly classical pieces; I don’t particularly like much other than that. What about you?”
“Musician and producer.” Neon downed another swig of his lemonade. “You know, some modern stuff isn’t too bad. I personally like the more modern stuff. However, I’m not opposed to violin or some classical.”
“Who do you listen to classically?”
“Eh…” Neon scratched his chin with a hoof. “…I don’t really know them by name. I have a few records, but I have to check.”
Octavia shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I personally like Vibrato’s ‘The Four Seasons’, particularly ‘winter’.”
“Ah, yes. I once got the privilege of seeing a rather talented virtuoso named Arpeggio play it in Manehattan.”
Octavia had known about the concert though she herself hadn’t gone. “Back in Canterlot, I was in a symphony. Arpeggio is our first-chair violinist and concertmaster.”
“Quite an honor,” Neon said. “I also got the honor of then producing a remix of it with him doing the violin part and a rather well known underground artist.”
“…’remix’? ‘Underground’? I’m sorry, I’ve heard the terms before, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard them defined.”
“Well, a remix is where you take someone else’s music with their permission and rearrange the beats or add new instruments to it while keeping the feel of the original. ‘Underground’ typically means only DJ’s have access to it and it’s not made public. It’s sort of like we share and get royalties based off how many times our songs are played elsewhere, but you can’t go out and buy a CD with that artist’s tracks on it.”
“So… you’re a DJ.”
“Yes.”
“…my old roommate was a DJ. I… I couldn’t stand the noise she made.”
“I don’t do anything at home. I have a recording studio. Soundproofed and everything. Makes it easier to capture what I want.”
“Doesn’t it ever feel to you like you’re sort of bastardizing the original work by remixing things?”
“It’s a rather popular market. It’s not so much ‘bastardizing’ as hearing it in a different style. We don’t take any claims to it. I could actually show you the Vibrato ‘Winter’ remix I did. It’s still got the violin section very prominent and none of it’s actually lost.”
Octavia shook her head. She realized her bottle was empty. “I’m sorry; I just can’t get into that sort of thing.”
Neon shrugged his shoulders and threw his hooves up in a sort of defeated gesture, though he didn’t seem too bothered by it. “I get it. I’d never touch ‘Canon in D Major’. It can’t be reworked. Believe me, I’ve seen ponies try, and none of them were any good.”
Octavia nodded. “Well, it’s been nice talking to you, but I think I want to relax a little while. It’s been a long day for me.”
“Of course,” Neon replied. “Here, let me take your empty bottle.”
Octavia relinquished the bottle and Neon took it in his aura. Octavia got up. “Thank you for the lemonade,” she said simply.
“Of course. And if you’re interested in recording anything yourself, come talk to me. I can do classical as easily as I can electronic.”
Octavia nodded. Probably won’t be happening anytime soon… she thought, but all she said was. “Maybe.” And even that came out a little disbelieving.
Neon seemed not to notice. “Take care!”
Octavia returned to her house. It was now a few minutes past five. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, casting a beautiful orange hue. Octavia managed to find her tea kettle and a cup and made herself a cup of tea on the stove. She went to the sunroom and looked out, finding herself able to see Neon Light’s house at the bottom of the hill, multicolored lights flashing from the window.
Fine situation she’d gotten herself into! She thought she’d have gotten away from all that moving away from Canterlot. And yet, down there at the bottom of the hill, already she could see the flashing lights that reminded her of so many nights at clubs with Vinyl, clubs that would almost break her eardrum from the noise.
And there was his attitude towards music. Octavia almost hoped he would have been good conversation seeing he was dressed well and he seemed to know Vibrato and Pachelbel, but the whole talk of remixing seemed like a huge offense to her. They already worked fine; what need was there – and how pompous one must be if that wasn’t enough for them!
But the only responses to Octavia’s thoughts were the flashing lights and the sound of crickets, and for the first time Octavia realized she couldn’t hear the music at the bottom of the hill.