//------------------------------// // Finale // Story: Different Circles // by Anonymous Pegasus //------------------------------// Octavia looked about furtively as she dragged the heavy, covered gift into the music room of the school. It was the one place she knew Vinyl would find it eventually. It was big, and wrapped in shiny blue wrapping paper from top to bottom, with a large red card on it saying ‘To Vinyl Scratch, From Octavia’. There was a more elaborate note inside the packaging, explaining in greater detail the young ponies thoughts and feelings on what she had done. Octavia had deliberately come to the school on the weekend, when she knew Vinyl wouldn’t be there. She didn’t think she could face the young unicorn after their last encounter. Her own hurtful words haunted her. A gift was the only way she could possibly retain her dignity and apologize to the pony. Once the gift was in place, Octavia moved over to the piano, gently flipping up the lid to get at the keys, stroking them softly. She pressed down a high note, listening to the chime, and then played a short, simple melody. It was nice. The piano was nice. But it was just an instrument. And what she played on it...it wasn’t music. Octavia had sold her personal piano a few days previously, and spent every waking moment of free time playing her new cello. She had already been through three bows with the fervour of her playing. Her father had given her an early birthday present of a magic-infused bow, that would last much, much longer than a normal bow. The young earth pony knew her father was still disappointed that she wasn’t a pianist. But he accepted the fact that she was a cellist now, at least. Octavia closed the lid on the piano gently, and then moved over to the cello, smiling up at its large shape. Such an odd instrument. And she had so much to learn about how to use it! A hoof lifted to fondly stroke it, and then she pulled it towards her, drawing the bow and dragging it across the strings slowly, smiling at the sound it made. And then Octavia began to play. There was no sheet music to worry about with her cello playing. No pressure to stick to a script. It was all her when she played. There was no pressure. It was liberating. And she understood perfectly what Vinyl had meant now. When she played the piano, she had to concentrate. She had to focus, to make sure she hit the notes right. There was no fun there. No joy. But when she made the cello sing for her, it just felt so right! Reluctantly, Octavia set down the bow and placed the cello back on its stand with a fond look, stroking its dark curves once before turning to leave. The clopping of hooves in the hallway however, halted her, and her eyes widened. On instinct, she dived behind the piano and hid. The door to the music room opened, and quiet footsteps entered, and then paused, seemingly catching sight of the large gift. There was the hum of magic, and Octavia risked sneaking a peek around the edge of the piano, spying Vinyl, holding the card up with a glow of magic. And then Octavia hid again, cowering behind the piano, willing herself not to breath lest she give her position away. The wrapping paper rustle, and tore as Vinyl opened her present, and then there was the hum of magic again as she apparently caught sight of the second card. Octavia peeked once more, and saw Vinyl reading it, standing in front of the big, shiny new record player. Octavia could remember, word for word, what was written on the card. She had agonised over the wording the entire previous night. Dear Vinyl Scratch I just wanted to say that I am sorry for my behavior at the talent show. I was rude, and out of line. And what I said to you was unforgivable. You tried to help me and I responded with childish, petty insults. I rightly deserved to be humiliated for not following my heart as you told me to do. You were right. And I was wrong. And I hope it makes you feel better to know that I realise that now. I am returning to Canterlot to continue my musical studies. But I leave you this gift. If you are ever in Canterlot, my door is always open to you. And I am glad to have called you friend for the brief time that I could. You taught me more about music in a few short hours than my entire life around musicians did. The records are all blank, so you can record whatever you want on to them, and then play it all back. Every instrument you ever play with always be at the tip of your hooves. The top record however is already written. It is a song I composed for you. Do not feel obliged to listen to it, but I wrote it for you. I played it from my heart. I hope these go some way towards repaying you for the gifts you gave me. But I fear that against the immensity of helping me find my instrument, no gift will ever suffice. Sincerely yours, Octavia. There was another hum of magic as the letter was placed down, and the sound of a record being placed on the pin, and the needle coasting over to the inside of the disc. Immediately, the music room was filled with the sad refrain of Octavia’s cello, humming a soft, apologetic tune. Octavia had poured her heart into the piece. She had done as Vinyl had said. Just closed her eyes and let the music talk for her. Octavia snuck another peek, and saw Vinyl with her eyes closed, glasses sitting on the edge of the turntables, and soft tears falling down her cheeks. She was gently swaying from side-to-side in time with the music. The earth pony took the opportunity to slide out from behind the piano and towards the door. She would slip out without being seen, and let Vinyl decide if she ever wanted to see her again. “You didn’t have to do this you know...” Vinyl said, her voice strained, muffled. She didn’t look up or move, but Octavia knew that she was discovered. “I...felt it necessary,” Octavia admitted uncomfortably, pausing in the middle of the floor, her ears pinning back. “I...didn’t think you’d be here.” “I wanted to play with the instruments one last time...” Vinyl said in response, shaking her head, her voice turning bitter, “My parents are pulling me out of school. Say I need to learn a proper trade...music isn’t my thing.” Octavia didn’t know what to say to that, her ears splaying backwards. “I...I...I’m sorry, Vinyl.” “It’s not your fault,” Vinyl responded, shaking her head and lifting the needle from the record, plunging the two ponies into silence. “But...with this...I’ll always have some music with me.” Octavia breathed a sigh of relief. “And here I was worried that you’d try to be modest and refuse the gift.” Vinyl gave a mirthless giggle. “As if. These things are majorly expensive. And rare. I’ll be the coolest gal in Ponyville with one of these.” “Vinyl...you already are,” Octavia said, stepping closer to the pony. “I...You helped me find my instrument. You helped me find my instrument and all I did was insult you for it...” “You’re stuck up, Octy. You’re supposed to do that,” Vinyl responded coolly. “No, Vinyl. You don’t understand. I failed at the piano. I failed in front of everyone because I didn’t listen to you,” Octavia tried to explain, her voice placating.  “If I had listened to you in the start, I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself in front of everyone.” “Perhaps...but you were right, too. You had no reason to listen to me, Octy. I’m just a ‘cool’ unicorn who can’t even find an instrument to play,” she stated, her tone defeated. “And pretty soon...I won’t even have instruments. Just records.” “But that’s all you need, Vinyl,” Octavia soothed, placing the pin back on the record. “You have all the instruments in the world right here, at your hooftips.” Octavia spun the record to get it to the right spot, making it cause a rather strange ‘scratch’, and then let it play the sad, mournful hum she had given it. Vinyl’s hoof immediately found its way to the record as she demanded to know, “What did you do?” “What...do you mean? I just spun the record to find the right spot. Where the pin is on the record determines the sound.” Octavia explained, spinning the record back and forth once to demonstrate, wincing at the sound it made. “Really should lift the pin before I do that, though.” Vinyl shook her head, snorting once, she stepped up to the turntables, “Budge over.” Octavia did as asked, stepping aside to allow Vinyl full access. Immediately, the pony began to rock the discs back and forth, creating the scratching sound again. She moved her hooves quickly, making the strange sound happen over and over, before allowing it to play a long, sad few notes, and then ‘scratching’ it again, melding the sounds into a beat of her own to overshadow the slow notes of the cello. “You weren’t lying when you said you can make music with any instrument,” Octavia observed. “Oh I like this,” Vinyl said, spinning the record eagerly, “I like this a lot.” In a matter of weeks, Vinyl had become semi-famous. She went by the name of DJ-P0N3 now, and had earned her cutie mark. She had moved out of home, to Canterlot, and her new music was sweeping Equestria. It was the first of her parties that Octavia had ever attended, and she was standing beside the DJ booth, listening to the master DJ at work. Vinyl set a record to playing, a full orchestra, and then slid down to sit next to the earth pony, smiling broadly. “So what do you think?” “It’s very nice,” Octavia said with a sincere nod. “It is very different from normal music.” “It’s totally all mine,” Vinyl stated proudly. “It suits you,” Octavia said with a nod and a smile. “But...I do have a question.” “Ask away, my fine, unhorned friend.” Octavia paused a moment, framing her words carefully. “You....were so very adamant about me making music, rather than repeating it. And now you are just...mainly repeating music of other ponies.” Vinyl nodded modestly at that. “Too right I am, Octy. What’s your point?” “Well...why?” Octavia asked, bewildered. “I thought you would abhor using other ponies music after what you told me.” Vinyl gave a thin smile at that, laying a hoof on her friends shoulder. “Octy. I have every song ever right in this turntable. I can play masterpieces from the greatest artists that ever lived. You, however. Were just an earth pony with a piano repeating songs from long-dead ponies. There was no spirit there. I knew you were destined for greater things, Octavia. And when you make a masterpiece with your cello, I’ll be the one to share it with all the ponies out there on my turntables. I’m content with that. And you found your true instrument.” Octavia stared at her friend for a long moment in silence, before shaking her head. “You are a very strange pony, Vinyl Scratch. Not dislikable. But very strange.” Vinyl giggled, pulling her friend into a hug. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Octy.” The two ponies were silent for a few moments, and Vinyl adjusted her glasses self-consciously. “You know...I’ve got a fairly large house now, and I’m looking for a room mate...” Vinyl let the words hand in the air for a few moments. “Are you...propositioning me, vinyl?” Octavia asked, raising a brow. “I did not think that riff-raff such as yourself would want to associate with high-class ponies on such a regular basis.” The DJ grinned at that, giving a shrug. “Just putting it out there in case any snooty ponies who were loaded heard it and wanted to subject themselves to daily doses of DJ-P0N3.” “You would drive them positively insane,” Octavia stated, shaking her head. “That’s the point,” Vinyl responded with a sly grin. “So I’ll move in on Thursday?” Octavia asked. Vinyl looked at her for a long moment, and smiled. “I’d like that."