//------------------------------// // Rejection // Story: Simple Melodies are for Fillies // by bahatumay //------------------------------// Early on Saturday afternoon, Vinyl reached up and knocked on the door. She shivered and tugged her jacket tighter around her body. It was windy and overcast today, and for some reason that felt very foreboding. Octavia eventually opened the door. The first thing Vinyl noticed was that her body language was a bit more closed than usual. She stood closer to the door, with one hand resting on it and her body almost hiding behind it, and no smile played at her lips. Vinyl nearly found herself at a loss for words. This wasn’t like Octavia at all. Her name. That would work. “Uh… hey, Octi,” she said with a hopeful smile. “What’s up?” “Not much,” Octavia said coolly. Vinyl felt her heart start beating faster. Why was Octavia still hiding behind her door? Why wasn’t she coming to give her a hug? Why wasn’t she smiling? Had Vinyl done something wrong? She had, hadn't she? What had she done? “Ready for our date?” Vinyl tried. “I’m not so sure.” Vinyl paled. “Wh- what do you mean?” she asked. “You mean the date? We don’t have to go to the mall if you don’t want. I don’t mind. I don't mind at all-” “Not just the date,” Octavia said. “It's just… I don't think it's going to work out between us. I think you’ve made it quite clear how you feel about me.” Vinyl blinked. “I have?” she asked. It was ‘love’, right? She was going to say she knew Vinyl loved her, right? Maybe she was just playing a joke on her? That was logical. “Indeed. It’s certainly been enlightening.” Vinyl’s breath caught in her throat. This was all wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all! Was Octavia breaking up with her? Had they even ever been official? “But-” “I'm sorry, Vinyl.” With those crushing words, Octavia returned inside her apartment and shut the door. As soon as the door shut, Vinyl sprang into action. She tore her shirt off and stuck it into the back of her pants as her tail. She nearly ripped her pockets as she tugged her ears out and shoved them on her head, and she nearly poked her eyes out as she jammed her sunglasses onto her face. Who needed her, anyway? DJ Pon-3 made a rude gesture at the closed door. She would have just held her back. She was just one girl. She could take a long walk off a short pier for all Pon-3 cared. Ignoring the goosebumps forming on her skin from the cold, she turned and strutted away. * * * Lyra whistled lightly to herself as she arrived at home. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Vinyl, wearing her ears and sunglasses. Lyra sighed, her good mood fading slightly. “Vinyl, you know what we've agreed about bringing Pon-3… home…” Her voice trailed off as she realized that Vinyl was completely naked aside from those ears and glasses. She looked back, and raised her left hand in greeting, as her right was currently otherwise occupied. “Hey, Lyra. Care to join me?” Lyra hesitantly walked closer. “In complete honesty? No. Not at all. Is there a reason you're… doing that… on our couch?” “A girl’s got the right to have a little fun in her own house, amirite?” She slid over a bit, making a slightly wet and squelchy sound as she did. “You sure you don't want to join me?” Lyra bit her lower lip. This was not Vinyl. This was not Vinyl at all. “Ok. What did I miss?” she asked sternly. DJ Pon-3 shrugged as she continued her ministrations. “Oh, nothing. Just realized that I don't need another mare after all. And even if I did, I could just find another mare who'd be willing to spread her legs for me. DJ Pon-3 is only the most desirable DJ out there, you know. Shouldn't be too hard.” Lyra knew two things at that point. One, Vinyl had been hurt; and two, she needed to talk to Vinyl, not DJ Pon-3. “Vinyl Scratch,” she started. “My name is DJ Pon-3. Heard of me?” “Vinyl,” Lyra insisted. “You're killing my groove, sister,” Pon-3 groused. “Take the glasses off, Vinyl.” DJ Pon-3 met her eyes. “Make me,” she challenged. Lyra raised her hand, but Pon-3 was faster. With a quick flick of her wrist, she cast a stinging spell and tagged Lyra right on the wrist. Lyra hissed in pain and grabbed at her wrist. Pon-3 stuck her tongue out and continued. “Vinyl, take the glasses off,” Lyra commanded as she shook out her hand. “No.” Lyra walked around to the front of the couch. “Vinyl, we can't talk until you take them off.” “Maybe I don't want to talk, eh?” “Are you afraid of talking? That’s a really, really lame thing to be afraid of.” DJ Pon-3, who definitely considered herself not lame, frowned and briefly looked down to process this and formulate a biting response. Lyra took this opportunity to reach out and grab the earpieces of her glasses, intent on physically taking them off. Pon-3 flinched, but didn't resist, letting Lyra slide the glasses off of her face. The ears came next, the band sliding out easily of her messy blue hair. Lyra decided not to reach around to see if she was wearing the tail. With her eyes now exposed, Vinyl's angry expression slowly cracked. Her lower lip trembled, tears welled up in her eyes, and she began to sob. Tears ran down unabated down her face, and she grabbed Lyra and began crying despondently into her shoulder. Lyra hugged her back, desperately trying to ignore the fact that Vinyl was completely naked and wet in more ways than one. “Shh, shh. It's ok,” she said soothingly. “Lyra's here. Let's talk about this over ice cream, ok? Protocol seventeen, just the two of us. How's that sound?” Vinyl sniffled and nodded. She pulled back and wiped her eyes, pausing to look down at her right hand as if asking why it was already moist. As she was looking down, she then happened to glance at her body; and when she realized that she was naked, she squeaked and curled into a ball to cover herself. She looked up at Lyra and let out a defeated whimper. Lyra nodded. “Ok. Clothes first, then protocol seventeen.” Vinyl didn't stop until their freezer had been emptied of ice cream.