//------------------------------// // Arriving at the Grand Gala // Story: GTVS: The Great Teacher Vinyl Scratch // by Mariacheat-Brony //------------------------------// Morning of the Friday 15th of December, Hart’s residence, “Are you feeling okay, Sweetie?” Linda Hart whispered softly to her bedded daughter. “Like my head is spinning on top of my shoulders, Mom,” a sweaty and feverish Laura groaned weakly. “You know, I could call my job and take a day off to stay with you,” Linda suggested as she re-arranged the layers of cover on top her daughter. “N-No, it’...It’s okay,” Laura stated while a loud coughing fit invaded her throat. “I’ll just remain in bed,” she assured softly. “If you’re certain,” Linda replied, obviously worried for her sick child. “I’ll keep my phone close, so don’t hesitate to call me for anything, you hear?” “Will do, Mommy,” Laura nodded with a brief, tired smile. “Though, I think I’ll probably sleep the whole day in,” she added before burying herself under her blankets. “It’s probably the best thing to do,” Linda agreed with a resolute sigh. “Rest well, Sweetie,” she added, giving her burning hot daughter’s forehead a gentle kiss.         With that said, Linda stood up from her daughter’s bed to walk away, her heart a bit heavy at the prospect of leaving a sick Laura on her own. The bedded teenager weakly waved at her mother when she looked back at her as she closed the door behind her. When the door finally closed, Laura wrapped herself in her covers, hoping to find a comforting and much needed warmth. She yawned softly, lulled by the fainting sounds of her mother’s footsteps in the staircase. Her eyelids dropped over her tired eyes at the sounds of the front door’s lock that resonated in the quiet house. Laura welcomed a much needed sleep as the engine of her mother’s car purred during its ignition as well as when the vehicle rumbled away, granting a peaceful silence.         Then she snapped her eyes wide open, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. She kicked the heavy covers away in a move full of energy, and literally jumped out of bed. Wiping away her sweat with the back of her pajamas’ sleeve, Laura reached for her phone to call one of her most used contacts. It rang a couple of times before she heard the characteristic sound of her interlocutor picking up. “Papa-Cock, this is Deviant-Chick reporting in!” Laura whispered softly as she peaked through her window. “Mother-Hen has left the coop! I repeat, Mother-Hen has left the coop! Over!” she added as she noticed her mother’s car was indeed not in their driveway. “Copy that, Deviant-Chick,” her father’s voice replied in a whisper. “Ready to begin Operation Christmas-Feed? Over.” “Affirmative, Papa-Cock!” Laura replied as she put her phone on speaker to take her pajamas off. “I’m almost done,” she added, throwing away the big-sized green nightwear she had worn over her winter clothes and reaching for the pair of winter boots she had kept hidden under her desk. “You’ll find the rest of the supplies for your mission in the fourth cupboard in the living room,” Gerard Hart explained in a conspicuous tone. “In it, you’ll also find a pair of bus-tickets and the retractable trolley for you to transport the feed back to the Chicken-Coop. Over.” “Roger, Papa-Cock! Over.” “Remember that you have up to one five-hundred to be back where Mother-Hen left you,” Gerard reminded sternly. “So don’t get distracted! Over.” “Sir! I thought Mother-Hen was supposed to leave the Barn at one eight-hundred, Sir. Over,” Laura let out in confusion as she put a coat, a large scarf and a thick hood on. “You’re supposed to be sick, Deviant-Chick. Mother-Hen will come back to the Coop earlier than usual!” Gerard explained quickly. “You have your instructions! God Speed, Deviant-Chick! Over!” There was a brief pause. “And dress warmly, I don’t want you to get actually sick,” he added worriedly. “Don’t worry, Papa-Cock! I’ll be fine!” Laura reassured playfully. “Deviant-Chick out!” she added before hanging up.         Once her phone was secured in one of her pockets, Laura made her way downstairs in order to grab the supplies for her mission. She found in the aforementioned cupboard an envelope containing the list of possible Christmas presents she and her father had planned for her mother as well as one of her father’s credit cards. She grabbed it along with the retractable trolley and made her way to the front door. Once she reached there, she noticed that mailman had passed after her mother left, if the stack of letters in front of the door was of any indication. She was about to push them to side in order to open the door, but stopped when she noticed that the letter on the top of the stack was addressed to her. Tilting her head in confusion, she picked the letter up and examined it. “First time I receive something in the mail,” Laura muttered to herself as she tore the envelope open with her fingers. “It’s probably a commercial for a Christmas coupon or something…” she added as she unfolded the letter to read it.         As her eyes focused on the written message, Laura didn’t pay attention to the outside noises of a car pulling in the driveway. She didn’t hear the car door being slammed closed and the jingling sounds of a key sets. “Stupid Linda!” Linda cursed out loud as she unlocked the front door. “How do you want to get back sooner if you forgot the files for this afternoon’s meeting with ...Laura?” she asked in confusion at the sight of her daughter in the hallway. “.....What are you doing out of your bed?” she asked, her eyes scanning over her daughter’s outfit. “...Why are you dressed like you’re going out?!” she asked coldly, her golden eyes narrowing dangerously in her daughter’s direction. “Laura! I’m talking to you!” she nearly shouted at her unresponsive, lying teenager of a child.         Laura’s response was to show her the letter in her hand. Linda’s anger diminished a bit when she noticed the teen’s hand shaking nervously before she took the letter. Still half glaring at her daughter, Linda read the letter with one eye. “....We’re proud to inform you, Miss Laura Hart, that you have been selected to perform in this year New Year’s eve Gala at the Canterlot…. City...hall…..” Linda’s eyes widened in surprise at the content of her daughter’s letter.         The mother looked up from the letter to stare blankly at her daughter, meeting a stare similar to her own in expressions and color. The silence between the two of them was religious enough that if one kept their ears open, he could have heard Mrs Hoovet humming her muffin song two houses away. Though the silence was finally broken when Linda let her keys and hand bag fall on the ground. “YEAAAAAAHHHH!” Linda shouted with pride at the same time as her daughter dropped the trolley, a matching scream coming out of her as well.         Linda rushed to hug her daughter who nearly jumped in her arms, both screaming in joy, pride and happiness. Cheers rang for a good ten minutes, the mother hugging the life out of her daughter while the latter held on to the former. They let go of each other only to have Linda demand Laura to call her father to tell her the good news. Which she did instantly. The operation Christmas-Feed would have to be postponed for now, as celebrations were in order in the Hart Household. ******************************************************************************************************* Afternoon of the Friday 15th of December, Horzowski’s residence, “Good afternoon, everyone!” Frederic called as he closed the front door behind him.         As soon as he had hung his coat on the rack by the door, Frederic’s legs were assaulted by a mass of a black fur which kept rubbing itself against them. Letting out a brief chuckle, Frederic extended his hand toward Dexter’s head, giving the labrador a good scratch behind the ears. “How was your day, boy?” the pianist asked playfully as the dog rolled on his back. “You’ve been nice with Bernadette, haven’t you?” he added as he scratched the exposed belly of the labrador with enthusiasm.         Once Dexter had received his fill of belly rubs, Frederic went to the kitchen. The day had been quite long and a small snack was long overdue. As he stepped in the kitchen, Frederic was faced to a rather unusual sight. His father, Oswald, was sitting at the table, a pot of polish and a clothe in hands and the family’s finest silverware laid out before him. In the meantime, Bernadette and Frederic’s mother, Martha, were both standing by the fridge, examining a handmade chart with a couple of pictures on it. Pictures Frederic recognized as Beatrice’s kins’. “What is going on in here?” Frederic asked with a cocked eyebrow. “Oh, you’re back, Son,” Oswald called as all gazes went to the blond pianist. “We didn’t hear you arrive.” “How was your day, Dear?” Martha asked warmly after walking to her son to give him a kiss on the cheek. “It was good. A bit duller than usual with Laura’s absence, but otherwise okay,” Frederic explained, his eyes going back and forth between the chart with the Bluenotes’ pictures to the silverware while stopping on both his parents and their housekeeper. “You didn’t answer my question, though.” “Don’t tell us you forgot what day it is, young man?” Bernadette asked with a frown. “It’s Friday?” Frederic suggested slowly. “He forgot!” Bernadette lifted her arms in exasperation. “He actually forgot!” “...Just like his father,” Martha commented with a sigh, casting a knowing glance toward her husband. “I’ve never forgotten a visit from your mother, Martha,” Oswald replied, visibly offended. “No, you’ve forgotten lots of other things,” Martha commented dryly. “What does Grandma has to do with…. Wait a minute… Is it because Beatrice and her parents are coming for dinner tonight?” Frederic asked in annoyance. “Come on, you promised you wouldn’t make a big deal out of this!” “Son, it is big deal!” Oswald affirmed sternly. “You have only one shot to impress your future In-laws!” he added, prompting a mad blush from his son. “If you do wrong now, then you’ll have to deal with the hatred of her parents for the rest of their lives once you’re married with her!” “Dad, we’ve just started dating,” Frederic retorted softly. “Don’t start talking about marriage like that!” “We’re just looking out for you,” Martha replied soothingly. “Besides, your father’s speaking from experience, so you’d do well to listen to him, Frederic.” “Huh?” “For my first date with your mother, I went to pick her up,” Oswald told as he went back to polish the silverware. “Your grandfather was waiting for me to ring the bell…. You know, the whole fathery speech about my intentions with your mother. Hehe,” he added in a nervous chuckle. “I arrived there, all dressed-up, with flowers and two places for the “Sounds of music” musical,” He shot a wink at his wife whose cheeks rosied a little bit at the memory. “... I was a bit nervous back then so I stayed a couple of minutes on your grandparents’ porch before finally knocking on the door. Turned out your grandfather went outside just at that time to see if I was late…” He paused with a wince. “To make a long story short, I broke your grandfather’s nose that day.” “W-what?!” Frederic whispered in shock. “Not my brightest moment,” Oswald commented with a wince as Martha nodded in agreement. “He and your grandmother have never really forgotten that.” “That explains quite a lot about the mood whenever Madam Beaumont comes for a visit,” Bernadette let out in realisation, more for herself than for anybody else in the room. “So now, you see why it’s a big deal?” Martha asked Frederic with a cocked eyebrow. “....” Frederic bit on his lip for a few seconds before glancing at the chart on the fridge. “What’s the chart for?” “Oh, that’s just a thing I do for every guest we might have,” Bernadette explained. “It’s mainly about what allergy they have, center of interests, correct pronunciation of their names… Everything we need to know to be the best hosts!” she explained with a proud smile. “How exactly do you even know all that?” Oswald asked in a surprised tone. “I hear a lot of things in my line of work, Sir,” Bernadette replied casually. “Many of which that I’d have rather never heard though,” she added with a regretful sigh.         The other adults in the room both cast a questioning look at their housekeeper while Frederic pinched the bridge of his nose in a quiet groan. “Okay, I see your points,” Frederic admitted in defeat. “Can you just, please, not do too much?” “Sure! Don’t worry about it, Son,” Oswald assured with a thumb up. “The last thing we want is being a source of embarrassment in front of the Bluenotes!” Martha agreed with a smiling nod as Bernadette raised her thumb up at the pianist. “I’ll be upstairs doing my homework,” Frederic stated as he turned around to leave as his parents and Bernadette went back to what they were doing prior to his arrival. “Oh! I almost forgot!” Bernadette called. “There was a letter for you in the mail this morning. I put it on your desk.” “Thank you, Bernadette,” Frederic replied while grabbing his backpack to head upstairs, Dexter gently trotting behind him.         As he sat down at his desk a few minutes later, Frederic immediately saw the letter Bernadette spoke off. While Dexter lazily laid down next to the desk, the pianist took a paper-knife from one of his drawers and opened the letter. As he read the content of the letter, he couldn’t hold back a heartfelt “yes!” that startled the tired dog at his sides. He was about to stand up to tell his parents the good news when he remembered how tonight’s dinner was on their mind. “Should I tell them now, or wait until tomorrow?” he asked Dexter who looked at him for a few seconds before yawning loudly and resting his head on the ground. “Tomorrow it is then!” he added before taking his cellphone from his pocket. “I’ll just call Beatrice.” ******************************************************************************************************* Evening of the Friday 15th of December, Fiona’s studio apartment, “THAT’S FREAKING AWESOME!” “WOHOOO!!!” “YEAH, GIRL! AH KNEW YA COULD DO IT!” “Ah’m so proud of ya, Sweetie,” Kat Smith, Fiona’s mother, stated after Fiona told her and all of her present relatives the great news about her performance at the Gala through a video-chat. “Thanks, guys!” Fiona waved at the image of her many cousins, her aunts and uncles massed around her parents in front of the farm’s unique webcam. “Come on, Dad, stop crying!” she added with a teary laugh at the sight of her burly father constantly wiping his eyes with his large hands. “Ah ain’t cryin’, Missy,” George Buckner tried to say in a firm tone, only managing a shaken but still proud reply. “Ah got somethin’ in ma eyes! That’s all!”         Fiona held back a mocking laughter as her uncle Frank “called his older brother on his bullshit”. The same couldn’t be said about some of her cousins though, but they quickly calmed down once Fiona’s mother turned her head in their directions. “Come on, guys!” Fiona heard her cousin Braeburn’s voice rang through her crowd of relatives. “Let’s celebrate that AAAAAPPLELOOSA’s style! Cider for everyone!” “YEAHHHHH!!!!”         The response of her relatives was so loud that it completely saturated their microphone, making her wince in discomfort. Fiona stopped paying attention to the screen as she rubbed away the pain in her ears. Once her focus went back to them, she could see some of them were passing glass bottles with an amber colored liquid in them, while others had already their drinks and clinked them together. Fiona couldn’t hold back her happy smile even if, deep down, she wanted nothing more than to be with them to  celebrate her success, with maybe the exception of another violinist. Her thoughts of Viola brought something other than the deep longing for the curly-haired girl’s presence. “Hey, guys...Guys. GUYS!” she almost shouted to make herself heard in the loud atmosphere of the farmhouse. “Sorry to bother ya, but Ah need to tell somethin’ to ma mom. So, if ya wouldn’t mind…” “Ya heard her, ya rowdy punks?” Kat called playfully. “Get out, all of ya! Shoo! Shoo!”         Fiona didn’t hold back her laughter this time when her mother stood up from her chair to sweep the rest of the family away with a broom. Quickly enough, the only two things remaining in front of the webcam were her mother and her broom that leaned against a nearby wall. “Now that that’s done, what did ya want to tell me, Sweetie?” Kat asked in a soft, curious tone. “Ah…” Fiona began, nervously gripping her fingers together before playing with the tail of her scarf as she searched for her words. “How do Ah begin…” she whispered to herself. “Fiona, is somethin’ wrong?” Kat asked worriedly. “...Remember when Ah first visited this here apartment with ya and Dad?” Fiona asked softly. When her mother nodded, she continued. “And that Dad warned me on how Ah should never have someone other than me spend the night?” “...Yes..” “Well, recently, somebody spent a lot of nights here with me,” Fiona confessed softly, her eyes focused on her feet. “SOMEBODY DID WHAT?!” the booming, angry voice of her father saturated the microphone once again.         Wincing worriedly, Fiona looked back at the screen, only to see her mother leaning down and coming back up with a boot in hand and a frown on her face. A boot Fiona recognized as one of her father’s working boots. The young violinist blinked in shock as she watched her mother violently throw the boot her father's way, causing the characteristic sound of something heavy impacting a wooden door. “AH SAID OUT, YA NIT-WIT!” Kat barked at George who probably had gotten his wife’s point, and hopefully not his thrown boot. “Ya were sayin’, Fiona?” Kat asked in a low, even tone. “...Ah have met someone, Mom,” Fiona explained again, in a shaken reply. “For how long?!” Kat asked drily. “A bit more than a month now,” Fiona replied matter-factly, her eyes back on her feet. “And ya didn’t tell me about him sooner because…?.” “Because that someone ain’t a boy, Ma, it’s a girl,” Fiona stated softly. “A GIRL?!”         Another saturation occurred, this time caused by the voice of her father along with many of her cousins’. On the screen, she witnessed her mother massaging her forehead with a groan before reaching for her broom. “Ah’ll be back,” Kat calmly said to the webcam before standing up and walking off screen.         Fiona heard faint footsteps before a door was pulled open. “OW!” “OUCH! AUNTIE THAT HURTS!” “OUCH! HONEY! STOP THAT!” “OWIE!” “AIEEEEE!” CRACK         The violinist winced at every cry of pain her relatives let out under the sweeping frenzy of her mother. Frenzy she had caused. When the sounds of the fight died down, she heard the closing of a door before her mother returned on screen. Kat placed the broken broom stick against the wall and sat back on her chair. “A girl, huh?” Kat asked impassively. “Yes, Mom,” Fiona replied, gulping nervously while also being thankful for being miles away from her mother. Kat’s impassive frown turned into a genuine, curious smile. “Tell me more about that girl, Sweetie,” she said in a warm tone. “....Ya,” Fiona let out in shock. “Ya aren’t mad?!” “Oh, Ah’m mad! Mad that ya didn’t tell me about that sooner!” Kat explained softly. “So ya better tell everything ah need to know about that girl immediately, or else ah’ll come straight to Canterlot and literally pull the answers out of ya,” she warned playfully, a happy grin on her face. “....Her name’s Viola Krauss,” Fiona began a long tale and description that would last until way past midnight, her grin matching her mother’s. ******************************************************************************************************* Evening of the Friday 15th of December, four-star restaurant l’Etalon d’Or, “To our Viola’s first official performance,” Judge Viktor Krauss called with pride, a glass of champagne raised. “Here, here!” Hilda and her older daughter Daphne replied cheerfully as the four Krausses clinked their glasses together. “Thank you,” Viola whispered with a soft blush before taking a sip of her champagne. “So, how does it feel like to have your first non-school-related gig?” Daphne asked her little sister with curiosity. “It feels great so far,” Viola replied softly. “I’ll probably become quite a mess as the New Year’s getting by though,” she added, prompting a brief chuckle from her sister and her father. “Now, now, Viola, don’t stress yourself too much,” Hilda said gently. “You’ve been selected for the Gala, that means you’ve been recognized for your talent by professionals. No need to be worried about it.” “Thank you, Mom,” Viola replied with a smile. “By the way, do you have any idea on who you’re going to play with?” Daphne asked after popping an olive in her mouth. “From what you told us, there were supposed to be five selected from your group.” “Well, Laura published that she was chosen on Friendface today,” Viola replied casually. “And I got a message from Fiona saying she had been selected as well,” she added, a hint of loving pride tainting her voice as she spoke of the other violinist of her class. “Laura’s the one that got a scholarship, right?” Hilda asked curiously. “Or is it the small one, Diana, who’s on a scholarship?” “Diana’s daughter of Daniella Hoovet, remember? The Chairwoman of the central Post,” Viktor corrected his wife casually. “Fiona’s the one with the scholarship.” “And Laura’s the one who’s a dyke, Mom,” Daphne commented casually. “Daphne, watch your tongue!” Hilda snapped quietly. “What?! That’s true!” Daphne snapped back. “Isn’t it, Vi’?” she asked her younger sister, who suddenly tried to make herself tiny as a mouse. “I don’t care if it’s true or not,” Viktor retorted sternly. “That’s no way to talk! Especially here,” Viktor added, waving at the refined establishment they were dining in. “Indeed! There are much more polite terms to qualify such a deviance,” Hilda reminded with a hint of disgust in her voice. “Hilda, please” Viktor called in an exasperated tone. Hilda sighed longly. “I know, Viktor, you don’t like me calling it that, but I’m sorry, that’s how I see it!” Her husband tired to open his mouth in reply. “Look, we’re not here to debate on which sexuality is in the norm or not, we’re here to celebrate a great news!” “All right, forget I said anything,” Daphne raised her hands in defense as she spoke. “Hang on, Fiona’s the one from Appleloosa?“ Daphne then asked her suddenly quiet sister. “Yes, she’s from Appleloosa. Why do you ask?” Viola asked suspiciously. “Why did she tell you about her being selected?” Daphne wondered in an incredulous tone. “What do you mean by that?” Viola asked back, a bit defensively. “I mean you and her weren’t in such good terms,” Daphne let out in confusion. “We sorted our issues out,” Viola explained softly. “How so?” Daphne insisted curiously. “We had the opportunity to talk a lot on Octavia’s birthday,” Viola told sheepishly. “You’d be surprised of what can happen when you let people tal…” “Correct me if I’m wrong,” Hilda interrupted her younger daughter. “But, isn’t it since Octavia’s birthday that you’ve been spending a lot of nights at some of your friends’ houses?” “It gave us back the excitement we had for sleepovers, Mom,” Viola explained abruptly, earning a raise of eyebrow from her judge of a father and her older sister. “I suppose so,” Hilda let out calmly. “Anyway, I hope we’ll get served soon. I’m quite famished, to say the least.” “Me too,” Daphne replied casually as Viktor continued to look at Viola with his eyebrow raised in suspicion. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back,” Viola said softly before leaving the table.         The violinist made her way to the restaurant’s restrooms at a rather rapid pace. Once in it, Viola took a few paper towels from the distributor on the sink, passed them under the water, and applied them on her face. The cool and humid paper soothed oncoming headache. As her emerging headache dissipated itself, Viola pulled the towels away from her face and threw them in the nearby trash bin. ...It would have been better if I had spent the night at Fiona’s, Viola thought as she massaged her temple soothingly. At least there, it’s possible to have dinner without stupid conversations! “Hey, Vi,” Daphne’s voice startled her from her cold-induced calm. “The starters have just been served,” she added as Viola turned around to face her. “I’m coming,” Viola whispered softly before following her sister out of the restrooms. “Can I tell you a couple of things, from one sister to another?” Daphne asked casually as they slowly went back to their table. “...Sure, I guess,” Viola replied in confusion. “Think really good of what you’re going to say before trying to lie in front of Dad,” Daphne advised in a whisper. “Also, try to not use the card Dad gave you to pay for a couple’s special suite in a hotel…. Hadn’t I be Dad’s un-official account-manager, you’d have been in a lot of trouble!” ….. I really should have spent the night at Fiona’s to celebrate! *******************************************************************************************************         18h30, 31st of December, Philharmonica Residence, “Isn’t she doing a little too much?” Vinyl calmly, taking a long, final sip of her glass of soda. “NAAAH!” Jacquelyn assured with a dismissive wave of her hand. “She’s playin’ it slow. Her eyes ain’t all sparkly like when she’s really into it.” “.... How can you even tell that sparkly eyes thingy?” Vinyl asked with a frown. “She’s in the other room!”         To prove her point, Vinyl snapped her finger toward the room in question, from which they could hear Rarity’s commanding voice and the various complaints or comments of four of her five models for the night. The fifth one, namely Frederic, was currently checking on his silvery cuff-links on the other side of the Philharmonica’s living room, oblivious to the inquisitorial gaze Vito was casting on him. The young pianist looked quite dashing in the beautiful black and white suit Rarity had put together for tonight’s Gala. Once the seamstress had caught wind of the prestigious performance of her friend’s students, she had insisted on making an outfit for each of the five young musicians. All five of them had tried to insist otherwise but, as their teacher had predicted, they all fell under the charm of Rarity’s sketches for the occasion. “Now, Laura, DEAR, cease pulling down on your bustier this instant!” Rarity’s voice shouted for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. “You’re a classical music performer, not a streetwalker!” “I swear it’s not me!” Laura replied in exasperation. “I told you that strapless dresses weren’t doing it for me! I have nothing to hold the fabric up!” “Then how do you explain that Octavia’s bustier hasn’t slipped once when she’s less gifted than you in that aspect?” Rarity asked in a really dubious tone, probably raising an eyebrow at the teenager. “HEY!!!!” Octavia’s embarrassed shout resonated through the whole house from the entertainment room in which the four girls were still at Rarity’s mercy, as Vinyl had said earlier. “I have something to hold the fabric up!” “Of course, ya do!,” Fiona declared in her no-nonsense tone. “It’s the elastic band of yer dress.” “WHAT?!” Octavia snapped back at the southern violinist as another’s violinist’s chuckle could be heard coming from the room. “I think I’m going to check on the instruments in the van,” Frederic commented awkwardly as Octavia was shouting angrily, presumably at Fiona and Viola, in response to the comment about her curves. “....Are you okay, Vito?” Jacquelyn asked with worry as Octavia’s father sighed longly. “I feel really old right now,” Vito explained as he let himself fall on the last spot on the couch. “One minute she’s there playing with her Moz-bear in the living room and the next she’s off arguing about her figure with her friends…” “What in tarnation is a Moz-bear?” Jacquelyn asked in confusion as Vinyl gently patted Vito’s back. “I can relate,” Vinyl said softly, earning a confused rise of eyebrow from the businessman. “I remember how my mother can be sometimes,” she explained with a chuckle. “Usually, when she gets like that, she wants to do my hair and doll me up, like when I was three or four.” “Ah mean, it’s gotta be teddy bear plushie of some sort but what does the Moz stand fer?” Jacquelyn wondered out loud as Vito laughed at Vinyl’s story. “Children grow up too fast,” Vito let out with a sigh. “Would you have prefered she remained at her diaper-days?” Vinyl asked with a grin. “Non esagerare con questo, Vincenza,” [Don’t exaggerate with this, Vincenza] Vito pleaded with a warm chuckle. “Mozzarella? Mozambique? Mozilla?” Jacquelyn whispered to herself, oblivious to the two laughing persons on the couch. “What other words begins with Moz?”         Before anyone could answer her question, Rarity emerged from the changing room. The seamstress let out a brief sigh as she replaced a stray of lock of her hair in place before facing the three people in the livingroom. She smiled at them before waving at the girls to come outside. A long, impressed whistle from Jacquelyn and Vinyl welcomed the four students as they strutted outside. Vito simply mouthed a silent wow at the girls.         Rarity had made four matching dresses for the group’s performance: a black bustier with a flowing, loose fall that reached to the ankles along with a pair of gala gloves which climbed past their elbows. The only differences were that Viola and Fiona’s dresses were designed with a one-shoulder strap on their left arm, and that Laura and Octavia’s were strapless. Each girl was wearing a silvery white dress lined with a thread personalized : lime green for Laura, ocean blue for Viola, orange peel for Fiona and amethyst purple for Octavia. “Rarity, you’ve outdone yourself once again!” Vinyl enthusiastically said as she stood up to get a closer look. “Thank you, dear,” Rarity said with a smile as Octavia did a small twirl for her father who was smiling brightly at how stylish is little girl was. “Oh my god, look at you,” Vito whispered in awe, earning a flaming blush from his daughter. “You look fantastic… Simply fantastic!” “Thanks, Dad,” Octavia whispered back sheepishly. “Well, Ah’ll be! Yer looking all fancy, Cuz!” Jacquelyn enthusiastically said to Fiona. “I still maintain that the neck-scarf is tad too much with the dress,” Rarity commented casually, pointing the white shale Fiona had wrapped around her neck. “It would be so much better to simply take it…” “Nah, it looks great!” Jacquelyn countered instantly, chasing Rarity’s hand away from the knot that kept the scarf on her cousin’s neck. “It’s Fiona’s thing to wear a neck-scarf, or whatever this is called in fashion talk. Just how Ah always wear ma hat!” she added, tipping her brown stetson. “You Southerners and the things you do,” Rarity commented with a smiling sigh before going over Viola who was making sure her belt buckle was perfectly centered. “Thanks, Jacquelyn,” Fiona whispered with relief. “Anytime, Cuz,” Jacquelyn assured with a smile before pulling her smartphone from her pocket. “Now, take the pose! Ah promised Aunt Kat Ah’d take pictures!” “How about no?” “How about Ah tell yer little lady-friend about what ya and the other cousins pulled during the family reunion three years ago?” “Ya wouldn’t dare,” Fiona said in a trembling tone. “Try me, Sugarcube,” Jacquelyn taunted with a triumphing smirk. “Ah hate ya!” Fiona whispered sourly as she took a few steps away from her cousin to have enough space to pose for the pictures. “If ya wanna, but know that yer Ma’ demanded that I take pictures of ya by all means necessary,” Jacquelyn explained with a shrug before snapping a few shots of her beautifully dressed kin. “Tell ya what, to make it up to ya, Ah’ll take a few pics of ya and yer lady-friend…. For yer eyes only,” she added when Fiona darkly glared at her. “Well now,” Vito called as the two southerners bickered about a potential repayment. “I believe it’s time for us to go. You all need to be there before the Gala actually starts,” he explained while checking his watch. “All right, Andiamo!” [... Let’s go!] Vinyl shouted with excitement. “Yeah!” the four younger musicians shouted in unison as they were heading to the hallway to grab their coats.         Vinyl straightened her suit’s jacket after moving after Vito and Jacquelyn, only to have it pulled back a bit. “Tutututut! You’re not going anywhere, Darling,” Rarity assured as she pulled Vinyl back by the collar of her outfit. “Ma ché cavolo stai combinando?” [What the heck are you doing/plotting?] Vinyl asked in confusion. “Sorry dear, but I’m under special instructions to not let you wear your suit to the Gala,” Rarity explained softly. “Why not?! I look awesome in that suit!” Vinyl protested as Rarity dragged her into the side room, completely unnoticed by the excited group of musicians and their chaperons. “While that is very true, your Mother has other plans for you,” Rarity explained with what Vinyl would later qualify as the most evil grin on earth. “...Wait! What? What plans?! What did Mamma tell you to do?” Vinyl asked in shaken, frightful whisper as Rarity locked the door of the changing room. *******************************************************************************************************         An hour or so later, Canterlot’s city hall... “Hey, guys! How are you doing?” Ari called her five friends softly as she sneaked in backstage, which was separated from the Gala by curtains placed each side of the stage in the main ballroom. “Arietta?” Fiona asked in a surprised tone. “Ya managed to come?” “Hey, Ari!” Laura waved excitedly at the pinkette. “Looking good tonight,” she added in a genuinely innocent tone at the sight of her friend’s creamy pink gown. “Thanks, Laura,” Arietta replied with a smile before facing the scarf-wearing Violinist. “My brother got an invitation through his boss and I’m his plus-one.” “It was nice of him to have taken you,” Viola commented as her fingers drummed on each other. “Any of my siblings invited to the Gala would have just rubbed it in my face,” she explained in a nervous chuckle. “Ya mean, just like what ya did to them?” Fiona reminded with a cocked eyebrow. “Fiona, please just be quiet and look pretty, okay?” Viola asked with a small pout as the other violinist simply laughed at her.         As Arietta inquired on the ensemble’s feelings about tonight’s performance, Octavia passed a lock of her hair behind her ear while slowly and quietly breathing in and out. As she tuned out the conversations of her friends, her gloved fingers graze the strings of her instrument. Just like Rarity had promised, the evening gloves of her outfit didn’t hinder her fingering. The seamstress clearly knew what she was doing when she picked the fabric for the gloves. Satisfied with her gloves’ testing, Octavia focused back on the conversation just in time to catch Arietta telling that her brother and his boss were talking to Mr. Patterson and her own father last time she saw them. “And, they’re still at it apparently,” Arietta commented as she waved at the small group by the buffet. “Which one is your brother?” Frederic asked with curiosity. “The blond one or the black-haired one?” he asked, waving at the two men he didn’t recognized in the group. “The one with black hair,” Ari replied instantly. “The blond is his new boss. “Wait on a second! Neon Lights is your brother?!” Laura immediately almost-shouted as she recognized the spiky black-haired man with deep blue shades. “Well, yeah…” Arietta sheepishly answered. “This is going to be awkward when Scratch gets here, isn’t it?” Laura let out after a few seconds of silence, earning the confused glances from three of their friends. “Most likely,” Arietta admitted in a slightly scared tone. “Why is that?” Viola asked in confusion, voicing the thoughts of her girlfriend and their pianist friend. “Back in the glorious days of Manehatten Night Clubs, two young performers ruled the world of parties and music!” Laura suddenly declared in a solemn tone. “One was none other than our dear Teacher, DJ Pon-3 or Vincenza Scratch for the common people, the other was MC-W1sh, also named Neon Lights by the crowds of Dubstep fans. Together, they ruled the scene of the city that never sleeps as Queen and King! And it was glorious!” “Can we get the non-Laura version please?” Fiona asked after cocking an eyebrow at the lyrist who was now lost in her little world of fantasy. “My brother and our current teacher used to be long-time partners, both on and off the stage,” Arietta explained slowly. “With all that happened when I arrived in your class, you can guess how that ended…” “Oooooooh,” Viola, Fiona and Frederic let out in understanding.         As Arietta sheepishly scratched her cheek while the others put two and two together about Arietta’s first behavior with their teacher and with Laura lost in her poetry about said teacher and her ex, Octavia’s eyes remained on the pinkette’s brother. … Well, he’s sort of good-looking, Octavia admitted in her head as she imagined herself strangling him with his white tie. He seems stupid though with his stupid blue shades! Who wears shades indoors and at night?! Only STUPID PRESUMPTUOUS PRICKS that’s who! she added in a mental growl, not realizing that one person from her entourage met the requirements of her insult.         She witnessed her father politely conversing with the man she had labelled as stupid and other few words she wouldn’t dare whisper in the same room as her father. Octavia internally fumed when Vito laughed at what Neon said, warmly tapping his back. Instinctively she passed her finger on the string of her bow, slightly regretting it was just a string and not anything else. “Hey! Miss Belle and your cousin are finally here!” Laura suddenly said to Fiona as she spotted the familiar couple entering the ballroom. “The teach’ should be here toooooooooo………” her voice trailed off longily as her jaw dropped wide open. “What the heck has happened to ya no…” Fiona interrupted herself as she saw what Laura saw. “This...This is…” Viola stammered in awe. “......Wow!” Frederic let out in a shocked whisper. “Yep! Wow is the word I believe Viola was looking for,” Arietta let out, her eyes wide open as they focused on the person behind Rarity Belle and her future wife. “What are you all looking at?” Octavia asked after the wonder in her friend’s tone managed to turn her eyes away from Arietta’s brother.         Frowning at her friends lack of response, Octavia looked where they were all staring. As soon as she did that, she felt her stomach do a triple backflip and her knees become jelly. Behind Rarity and Jacquelyn, Octavia saw another Vincenza “Vinyl” Scratch walking in the ballroom. Not the Vincenza Scratch who wore sweat-pants and loose tops to hang out at home, nor the Vincenza Scratch in the fancy white suit she wore when she was teaching. Who Octavia saw was Vincenza Vinyl Scratch in an evening dress, a really good-looking dress.         The navy blue fabric hugged Vinyl’s body like a second skin, putting a lot of emphasis on her attractive figure. The dress was cut open at the front, allowing the brief sight of her nylon-clad legs and the light blue fabric of her under-dress at each step she took. Beads of turquoises and linings of silver formed an intricate jewel that connected the top of the dress’ leg-cut to the deep middle of Vinyl’s cleavage. The dress was strapless and would be granting an excellent view of Vinyl’s generous, bare upper-chest if it weren’t for the silk, light blue shawl that the DJ had put around her upper arms and shoulders, thus delicately masking her assets as well as her tattoo. “....Fiona!” Laura’s voice pulled Octavia out of her trance. “Bash my head against the wall, please!” she demanded with a long sigh and red cheeks. “Why would Ah do that?” Fiona asked in confusion. “Because I need to forget what I just saw or I’ll have zero concentration whatsoever!” Laura explained as she placed herself close the wall. “Give me your best shot!” Few seconds of awkward silence later, Fiona gave Laura her best shot, which turned out to be a strong slap at the back of the lyrist’s skull while muttering words akin to “moronic psycho” instead of the desired bashing. While it didn’t have any effect on Laura’s short-term memory, the pain from the slap was more than enough to let her know that her eccentricities weren’t exactly welcomed tonight. That fact that none of the other students told Fiona off only reinforced that feeling. Thus, after releasing a sheepish chuckle at at the nonplussed expressions on the majority of her friends’ faces, Laura coughed in her fist and picked up her instrument from its case before pretending to check on her lyre’s tune. Giggling softly at Laura, Arietta quickly wished her classmates to break a leg before moving to step out of the backstage area to find a good spot from which she could watch them play. After her departure, the young musicians decided to imitate Laura to certain extent, and went to check on their instruments one last time before their performance. Unbeknownst to all them was the fact that Octavia was on the verge of testing Laura’s theory on short-term memory on herself. …… I’m going to have wild dreams of that dress for days, aren’t I? Octavia asked herself with a brief sigh as vivid images of the elegant gown and its beautiful wearer flashed before her while looking at her cello. …… This year’s gala is going to be quite harder than the last ones…. Stupid, magnificently dressed Vinyl! *******************************************************************************************************         Vinyl quickly left Rarity and Jack to their mingling, much to the blonde’s dismay, and grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter. As much as she hated being forced in a dress, Vinyl nonetheless appreciated the sight of the poor young man trying his best to keep his professionalism and his gaze up to the usual standards.         Looking away from the reddening waiter, Vinyl’s eyes found the small estrade on top of which her students were standing. She couldn’t help to briefly smile proudly at them just before they started playing, following Frederic’s lead. The first notes from the five teenagers were soft and gentle as a faint breeze. The melody was quiet as a whisper, but Vinyl could hear its beauty loud and clear over the conversations. Her eyes focused on stage, the blue-haired teacher walked to one of closest tables to it. Taking a seat absentmindedly, Vinyl kept her gaze on stage, smiling proudly at her five students performing.         Frederic looked as calm and poised as usual, looking like he had done this all his life. Fiona and Viola were playing in perfect harmony: Jack’s cousin had been quite nervous about her first important performance but it was without counting on Viola’s support. Both emotional and almost literal, considering how both of them tried to keep no more than ten inches of distance between their respective shoulders. Laura for her part had decided to make her whole performance with her gaze absently focused on her music sheets stand. While it might look like she didn’t know her performance by heart, Vinyl knew better. The teacher had learned from Selene how she had taught Laura to not succumb to her easily distracted mind. Overcoming that shortcoming was constant battle for the young Lyrist, a battle she was completely winning tonight, much to her teacher’s delight. And then, there was Octavia. She was standing on stage with her traditional cello, keeping a regal posture while her bow danced over her strings. The short, precise movements of her hands liberating a soothing melody that Vinyl could only qualify as magnificent. Vinyl rested her cheek on one of her hands for support as she religiously listened to her student’s performance. Seeing the younger girl move her bow so gracefully with her eyes closed in deep focus sent some warm flutters in her chest. “And here Ah thought you’d stay close to the bar,” Jacquelyn’s voice brought Vinyl out of her revery.         Vinyl glanced furtively to her left to see Rarity’s plus one taking the seat just next to her, a glass of red wine in her left hand and her smartphone in the other. “And I thought you’d have sticked to cider your whole life,” Vinyl retorted playfully as the blonde snapped a few pictures of her cousin’s performance. “Still taking pictures for your aunt?” “Eeeyup!” Jacquelyn nodded, bringing the carmine liquid to her lips after taking a last snapshot. “As for yer remark, Ah’ve had to up ma standards a little bit.” “Sort of a necessity that comes with your dream-girl I guess,” Vinyl commented softly as her focus went back on her students’ performance. “Speaking of which, where’s she?” “She’s busy talkin’ with all them great tailors,” Jacquelyn explained slowly. “Suri Whats-her-face, Coco Pommette-or-something, and Sassy ….Seattle?” she added in an interrogative tone. “It got quite borin’ after a few minutes.” “I thought you loved talking fashion with Rarity,” Vinyl commented with a playful chuckle. “Ah do!” Jacquelyn assured softly. “When she asks ma opinion on a sketch she made, color choices for a dress she’s making, if her design looks pratical to me. Ah like to talk about that kind of stuff with her,” she explained casually. “When it’s a debate on whether or not Ocean-blue is the new black instead of seafoam-green, it’s borin’ as watchin’ paint dry.” “Good point!” Vinyl admitted with a nod as she noticed many more people sitting at many tables. “Maybe you should join her before someone takes your spot next to her.” “The one who can do that sure ain’t born yet,” Jacquelyn retorted playfully before standing up nevertheless. “It ain’t a bad idea though,” she added softly before looking around for her wife-to-be. “Yer gonna be okay?” she asked softly after a few seconds, resting a strong hand on Vinyl’s shoulder. “....Why do you ask me that?” Vinyl asked back, looking up to Jacquelyn in confusion.         The blonde’s response was to simply nod in front of her, prompting the former-DJ to look in that direction. At first, Vinyl noticed Vito and Francis Patterson discussing with a long-haired blond man in a white suit while coming toward her table. Still not seeing what it had to do with Jacquelyn’s question, she glanced around them, only to freeze when she noticed her ex-boyfriend, Neon, sharing a few words with his little sister before joining the conversation between Vito, Francis and the long-haired blonde. “I see why you’re asking,” she replied slowly. “I should be fine though,” she assured softly. “Just whistle if ya want me to throw him out,” Jacquelyn suggested before taking her hand off Vinyl’s shoulder. “Ya know, Kazomaille! As ya would say,” she added playfully with a horrible Italian accent before walking back to Rarity’s table. “Si. Casomai…” [Yes. In case off…]