Chapter 12: The Argument
[v]
Lyra sat on a stool, trailing her hoof gracefully over her lyre, using sputtering bursts of magic to cut a particular string's haunting note off early, or pluck a note she couldn’t reach without digits. The effect was as beautiful as Octavia had envisioned it would be, when she had suggested it to the unicorn.
Octavia had decided to give the musical mare a few lessons, not only to bring the two closer as friends, but to talk to her as much as possible about the situation with Vinyl. She’d found that speaking with Lyra and Bon-Bon about her pent-up secrets made her feel that much better.
Slowly, the song ended and Lyra lowered her instrument, smiling broadly. “Wow, that sounded much better than usual,” she said, laughing to herself.
“And you don’t usually sound too bad, regardless.” Bon-Bon put in, stomping a hoof down in appreciation from just across the room. Lyra blushed, running a hoof over the back of her mane.
“Thanks Bonnie. And thanks for teaching me some tricks, Octavia.”
“Think nothing of it.” Octavia waggled a hoof dismissively. “They aren’t my tricks. I know a few harpists and lyre players in Canterlot and this is a very common practice there. I’m honestly surprised you’d never heard of it before.”
Lyra chuckled weakly, embarrassed. “I don’t practice as much as I should.”
“Well, that is going to change as of today.” Octavia used a no-nonsense tone, raising an eyebrow. “Right, Lyra?”
Lyra fidgeted, looking uncertain. “I’m always so busy, and…”
“Right, Bon-Bon?” Octavia turned to the cavalry, who responded with a solid nod.
“I’ll make sure she has time.” Bon-Bon winked and laughed, eliciting a blush from her special somepony.
Lyra quickly changed the topic, quick to shake off her embarrassment. “You said something happened on Hearts and Hooves day?”
Apart from the practice, that was the big reason Octavia had come over. Yes, she loved talking to her friends, but this was serious. She started her explanation slow, mentioning the peaceful beginning to the afternoon; the arrival of Neon and Vinyl’s gift to her. However, when she began talking about later that night, the regret and jealousy found its way into her voice.
She recounted the incident with Flare, only leaving out the unnecessary details. Lastly, she talked about her confrontation with Neon Lights once she came home the next morning.
By the end of the story, Lyra had her face in both her hooves, shaking her head. Without even uncovering her eyes, Lyra levitated several papers, rolled them up together behind Octavia, and whapped her lightly on the back of the head.
“That was really stupid, Octavia.” Lyra groaned as she came out from behind her hooves.
“I know that, Lyra. Everything I did that night was stupid. Ever since then, I’ve been doing my best to avoid Vinyl. I can’t look her in the eyes, now that she knows what I did.” Octavia looked down, ashamed.
“That’s the worst thing you can do.” Bon-Bon chimed in, trotting into the room to take a seat with Lyra. “You can’t just let things like this sit and rot. You need to pull this up at the roots, or you’ll end up losing it all.”
Octavia had noticed over her conversations with Bon-Bon that the lovable mare had a tendency to compare many of life’s problems to her flower garden. Octavia silently wondered if she was a rose or a daisy. She shook the useless thought away, nodding at Bon-Bon's advice. “Alright. I’ll talk to Vinyl.”
“Not just her,” Bon-Bon said sternly, shaking her head. “With Neon, too. For now, at least, Neon is a huge part of Vinyl’s life. You want things to go well with him, or your friendship with Vinyl will suffer. I’m not saying you need to be his friend, but you at least need to come to a truce with him, or you’ll be putting Vinyl in a very hard position.”
Octavia looked down, thinking on that. As she thought, her eyes wandered to her newest cello, the gift Vinyl had given her. It'd been long overdue, and that just made the present all the sweeter. Closing her eyes, she thought back to the night after Hearts and Hooves Day, a warm feeling spreading through her.
It was several minutes before Octavia and Vinyl spoke. Neon had just departed and there was an air of unease all around them. Once the conflicting emotions faded, Vinyl looked up to her friend, levitating her glasses off her face.
“Tavi, what was all that?” She shook her head a little bit, frowning. “That was so… unlike you.”
Octavia scoffed, trotting over to the table Vinyl was sitting at. “Oh, and I suppose Neon was completely fine, asking such personal questions?”
Vinyl shook her head again, but never broke her eye contact with Octavia. “Oh, believe me, I’ll be talking to Neon soon enough. But you’re here now and he’s not. So, explain.”
Octavia heaved a sigh, falling into a chair. “I was jealous that you had somepony special, so I got drunk and made a really huge mistake. Please, just leave it at that, Vinyl.” She let the altered truth slip through her lips effortlessly as she turned to the side, not able to meet Vinyl's eyes as she lied.
Vinyl stared at Octavia intently, as if that would somehow weasel more answers out of her friend. Eventually, she broke her burrowing stare, turning to look down at the table. “Well, I’m sorry. I hadn’t considered you when all that stuff happened between me and Neon, but he surprised me with it.”
Octavia lowered her own eyes, copying Vinyl’s pose out of instinct.
“But don’t ever think you’re alone on Hearts and Hooves Day. In fact, don’t think you’re ever alone, ever. I’ll be here for you, no matter what, Tavi. You’re the best friend a DJ could ask for.”
Octavia smiled, feeling a faint blush win its way onto her face. “And you’re mine, Vinyl. Now and forever; my dearest friend.”
Vinyl rose, walking over to Octavia and the two embraced, all transgressions forgiven. Vinyl leaned back from the hug, smiling vibrantly. “I got something for you. It was really hard, sneaking it out whenever you were away to get the work done, so I expect you to appreciate it. I was going to give it to you another time, but you could use a pick-me-up right about now.” Vinyl chuckled, trotting from the room. Octavia noticed she had an excited bounce in her step, something Vinyl only ever did when she was planning something big.
However, the cellist stayed where she was. She knew very well that Vinyl adored bringing her gifts to whomever she was giving them to. For her friend, that was part of the experience. It did also leave Octavia fidgeting, wondering what the gift could be. Vinyl enjoyed that part too.
Vinyl returned, levitating a narrow box, a little longer than her straightened forehoof and about the same width. It was gilded, adorned with subtle jewels and entrancing designs of inlaid gold. Octavia raised an eyebrow at her friend and Vinyl chuckled. “Oh, don’t look at me like that! It’s been ages since I got you a gift, so I went big this time.”
Octavia rolled her eyes, smirking slightly. And to think, some ponies wondered why she adored Vinyl so much. Her friend wore a giant grin as she waved the box around.
“So, you wanna guess what it is?” Vinyl looked about ready to hop up and down. Thankfully, Octavia was used to both her friend’s eccentric personality and excessive mood swings. She shook her head slightly, but kept smirking. It had been a long morning and she was in no way eager to guess what her strange friend had gotten her now.
Vinyl was caught off guard for a second, but recovered quickly. “Ah, well. I know you’ll love it anyway.” Vinyl levitated the box over, setting it on the table in front of Octavia.
Taking her time, the cellist admired the box for a few seconds, trailing a hoof over its designs. She was, however, aware of Vinyl in the corner of her eye, actually bouncing in place now.
“Come on, quit being such a slowpoke! Open it!”
Octavia sighed, but complied, tilting back the lid of the box. Vinyl needed to learn to appreciate the value of savoring a gift.
Inside the box was a magnificent cello bow, recently restrung and stylized to match Octavia’s coat and mane. The grip was a solid black, like her hair, while the body was the same grey as her coat. Her cutie mark was branded on the grip where her hoof would usually be. Octavia felt joy swell in her chest. It was beautiful!
“Oh Vinyl! You were right, I love it!”
“That ain’t all.” Vinyl puffed herself up proudly. “Close your eyes.”
“Vinyl, there’s really no need—”
“Close your eyes,” Vinyl repeated, leaning forward, trying hard to look stern. On Vinyl, a stern face made her look constipated. Octavia stifled a laugh, rolled her eyes for effect and closed them, smiling happily. With her eyes closed, she slipped the bow behind her ear, making it easier to walk. This whole day had just been salvaged.
Octavia felt Vinyl wrap a forehoof around her, guiding her along through the house. Octavia knew the house by memory, however, and could easily pinpoint where they were going. Down the hall fifteen steps, a turn to the right to go into the study. Octavia couldn’t imagine what was in here that Vinyl would want to give her.
After a little bit of shimmying this way and that, Vinyl left her side and Octavia knew she had been positioned for maximum effect. Tapping a hoof anxiously, she waited.
“Alright. Open your eyes, Tavi.”
Octavia opened her eyes slowly, soaking in what she saw. Vinyl was going through a lot for this surprise, so she might as well play along. But when she saw what she was facing, Octavia's eyes snapped wide open.
She had been positioned to face the fireplace, her eyes drawn to the plaque above it and the instrument mounted over that.
“Vinyl, you couldn’t mean…” Octavia started, but trailed off as Vinyl’s magic encased the immaculate cello, drifting it off its stand.
“I do mean it. I want you to have this, Octavia.” The cello drifted towards Octavia, who held out a hoof, as if to stop it.
“Vinyl, I can’t take that. Your mother’s cello…” Octavia held her breath for a moment, letting it all out in a rush of words. “Vinyl, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. This is your mother’s cello. Your mother, Vinyl! I… No, no I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right, not right at all.”
As Octavia wound down, Vinyl waited patiently, holding the cello out with her magic. Once Octavia had run out of words and breath, Vinyl spoke, drifting the cello a little closer. “Dad and I agreed before he left that, once you were ready, you could have it. I wanted to give it to you before you left for Canterlot, but I never got the chance. After that, things were just a little crazy. But now, I think it’s perfect. It’s not just a gift from me; it’s a gift from dad too.”
Octavia felt tears filling her eyes. She was crying entirely too much, lately. She was sure she’d run out of tears. She tried to object, but how could anypony object to that? So, she swallowed her complaints and gingerly accepted the cello in her hooves, holding it as if she were about to play.
The instrument was masterfully made. When she was a filly, Octavia hadn’t been able to truly appreciate the beauty of this instrument. Its swells and curves were simple, yet elegant; it was perfect in its simplicity. The important details, however, we things only a skilled eye would notice.
The wood was of the finest quality, bearing smoothness comparable to skin. The strings, also of high quality, were made from the best materials. She took her new bow from behind her ear, drawing it over the strings, testing the sound. She felt a shiver shoot up her spine, goose-bumps crawling all over her, as the siren-song of the instrument filled the room. This cello had no equal she'd ever seen.
Octavia felt strangely complete. As much as she’d loved her cello, the one she’d shattered in her discorded fit, this cello was meant for her hooves. As much as she hated to admit it, it was her destiny to take up this cello and continue its legacy. She felt it in her bones.
Drawing the bow back across the strings, she began to play. She played the same song she always played on a new cello. Her first song, played on that memorable first day when she discovered her Cutie Mark; the tune she played straight from her heart. It was rough around the edges, refined yet faulted, just like she was. This song fit her perfectly.
Vinyl watched from nearby, smiling contentedly. The hug she gave Octavia after the song was over was tighter than any hug she’d ever been given before. The two roommates and friends cried and laughed and smiled until night fell. Some ponies would claim they accomplished nothing that day, but to the two of them, they’d done everything they needed to do.
Octavia sighed as reality reasserted itself over her happy memories. “I’ll talk to Neon… For Vinyl.” She reached over, trailing a hoof down the side of the precious gift. Lyra smiled at the cello, knowing its history well.
“If it’s any consolation, I think you have a chance. Maybe not a huge chance, but don’t give up hope.” Lyra adjusted herself, leaning over onto Bon-Bon. “Confidence is important, when you’re looking for love. But, it’ll be tricky, with her still dating Neon…”
Octavia nodded, staring at her precious cello as she thought. Neon and Vinyl had played several joint concerts since their time in Club Canterlot. They had become a kind of celebrity power-couple in the bigger cities, from Las Pegasus to Manehattan, climbing the charts side by side.
Quietly, she began packing up the cello as Lyra did the same for her lyre. “It’s complicated…” Lyra continued, shrugging as she closed her lyre case with a spattering of magic. “But that’s life.”
“Yes, well, life is hard.” Octavia clicked her cello case closed right after, pausing to look out the window. It was getting late and Vinyl was probably making dinner by now. “I need to go. I’ll come back over tomorrow to continue the lesson.”
“Alright, Octavia. And listen; be careful, okay? This whole situation is dangerous, for Vinyl as well as you.” Lyra nodded to herself, smiling. “But I get the feeling you’ll be okay. After all, you’re Octavia Melody. You’ll know what to do.”
As she walked out the door, cello on her back, Octavia chuckled. She’d know what to do? If it were that simple, she wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. Letting out a sigh like bellows releasing air, Octavia went home.
Neon was there.
Octavia knew he was, before she even got close to the house. The MC did everything in one style: loudly. Octavia hated to admit it, but he really was a good match for Vinyl. The two could almost be one person. She stopped outside the door and took a deep breath, clearing away her negative emotions. She would fix the damage tonight.
Plastering on a fake smile, Octavia walked inside to find the two DJs in the living room, just inside the door. Neon was sitting back on the couch, while Vinyl danced in a cleared space on the floor, her headphones clasped over her ears. Octavia always loved how Vinyl danced; as if nopony in the world were watching. She was bad at it, and she knew it, but she never cared one bit.
Neon looked over to her before Vinyl noticed, giving her a wink and a wave. Octavia bit the inside of her cheek.
“Hey Tavi!” Vinyl said, stopping her one-pony-party to greet her friend, lowering the headphones down. “Welcome back. How were the lessons?”
“Rather nice, actually. Lyra shows great promise. With some guidance, I think she’ll be Canterlot material in no time.” Octavia set down her cello by the door, trotting into the room.
Vinyl looked to Neon, who was reclining his head back. She cleared her throat and Neon sat up properly, snapping from whatever he was thinking. “Oh, yeah…” He intoned, before giving his head a small shake to clear away mental cobwebs.
The stallion stood up, chuckling. “So, I wanted to apologize. I wasn’t really thinking when I asked that stuff on Hearts and Hooves Day. Vinyl here set me straight.” He slid over to Vinyl’s side, smiling. “So, I’m sorry. In fact, I thought up a way to give you a helping hoof.”
Octavia’s eyebrow rose dubiously. She was glad for his apology – it saved her the trouble of making her own right away – but something about the way he said the last part made her nervous. “Oh really? How so?”
“Well, I was thinkin’ you hang around here alone way too much. I was plannin’ on introducing you to a few stallions I know. I know one guy who—”
“Absolutely not.” Octavia said bluntly, cutting him off. “I will not be somepony’s blind date.”
“It ain’t a blind date if you two know about each-other beforehoof, is it?” Neon tipped his glasses forward and chuckled a little bit. Octavia didn’t find this funny at all.
“Vinyl, you agree with this nonsense?” Octavia turned to her friend, making sure she reigned in her temper. She wasn’t mad at Vinyl; this was probably Neon’s bright idea.
Vinyl worked her jaw for a few seconds, and then levitated her glasses off, staring into Octavia’s eyes. “Yeah, I do. Tavi, you always look so… lonely. And after this past Hearts and Hooves Day, I just… I wanna make you happy, no matter what. If getting you a date does it, then I’m all for it.”
“I assure you, this is no way to make me less lonely or happier.” Octavia stood straighter, eyes pinned to Vinyl’s.
Neon shook his head, chuckling. “Huh, you’re one stubborn mare. How do you know it won’t work if you haven’t tried it?” He levitated his shades off too, smirking confidently. “I mean, one drunken night doesn’t exactly qualify as a romantic experience.” Octavia gritted her teeth, an action that wasn’t lost on Vinyl, and broke eye contact with her friend to glare daggers at Neon. “Don’t be such a snob, Octavia. Just try it.”
“I am no snob. I said no, Neon.” Octavia was growing agitated again. She had grown up beside Vinyl, so the DJ knew Octavia’s limits well enough, but Neon had no idea the fires he was lighting in her mind.
“I’ve never known a pony so against finding a special somepony. Sheesh, what, are you into mares or something?” Neon shrugged, laughing and smiling at his own joke.
Octavia felt her last restraints snap. Neon had hit far too close to home. Her face immediately went red with both embarrassment and anger. Vinyl noticed this and moved to interject herself, but Octavia, her voice as cold as ice, gave her no room to interrupt. She locked eyes with Neon, holding them to hers with invisible tethers of emotion.
“You are absolutely intolerable, do you know that? Frankly, it’s beyond me that someone as crude and obnoxious as yourself managed to survive in Canterlot. You sit here and lord over me, just because you have Vinyl and I’m alone. How, in Celestia’s great name, does Vinyl deal with you; a moronic half-wit who can’t seem to understand even a simple concept like the word ‘No!’ You. Make. Me. Sick!” Octavia was trembling all over by the end of her rant. As the world around her became clear again, she realized that her temper had gotten the better of her. Nervously, she looked to Vinyl.
Her friend’s jaw was hanging open, a look of absolute shock in her eyes. She had even dropped her glasses at some point.
Neon was just staring at Octavia, fury in his eyes. After a second, he snorted, giving his head a slow shake. “You done whining now, you prissy, stuck-up, bourgeois pig?” He stepped forward, putting himself nose to nose with her, his eyes burrowing into her. The mare stepped back reflexively, shrinking a bit under his intensity.
“You don’t know how I survived in Canterlot? Then let me teach you something, you judgmental little filly; I survived by being myself, no matter what the snooty, ‘upper-class’ ponies – with their bigotry and cruelty – said about me. Your kind of pony, if my eyes don’t deceive me. You’ve got all their arrogance and selfishness down-pat.
“I made it through Canterlot on sheer determination, talent, and pride in who I am. What about you, Octavia Melody?” He did a rather good impression of her scoff. “You had everything handed to you. You had all the skill, all the knowledge and yet, ran away from Ponyville to chase your dreams. And now, you’re back at square one. If you ask me, you wouldn’t know what your dreams were if they cracked you over your thick head with your own precious cello.” Neon advanced again, forcing Octavia to step back, her eyes wide and braced for a fight.
“You; you’re as stuck up as they come. A Canterlot pony, right down to your blood. You’re no different than those money-bags who looked down on me, just because of my tastes in music. To use your own words; frankly, it’s beyond me that someone as crude and obnoxious as yourself – end quote – could ever be considered Vinyl’s friend. And yet, she puts up with your bull.”
He huffed out another snort, backing up several steps. “All I did today was try to help you get your sorry flank out of the house and maybe make your life a little better.” Octavia felt herself start to cry a little. She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. She was just so angry, not with Neon, but with everything in general. Neon had just said the wrong thing at the wrong time.
“When Vinyl told me how we hurt you on Hearts and Hooves Day, I just wanted to help. I struggled and strove to be your friend, to care about you as much as Vinyl does, but now? Heh, now I see I was right from the beginning; you’re just another Canterlot pony. You remind me so much of the filthy scum that walked all over me. More so now than ever before. I make you sick, Miss Priss? Because I think another day in your presence might be fatal to me.”
Vinyl, who had been trying all along to stop Neon, finally got a word in edgewise. She pushed him further back, moving in between her two friends. “Yo, Neon, back off dude.” Neon looked over to her, and then backed off a few more steps, putting ample space between him and Octavia.
“Sorry Vinyl.” He notably didn’t apologize to Octavia.
Vinyl looked back at Octavia, frowning. Octavia recognized that as far as Vinyl could tell, Octavia had thrown the first stone and she certainly had no idea what had set her friend off. Octavia watched, almost able to read the thoughts in Vinyl's head: she knew this was nothing like Octavia usually was. It had to have been brought on by something. She wasn’t sure what to do, but bridges needed to be mended. Vinyl moved over to Octavia's side, whispering to her. “Look, Tavi, I know you. I know fighting isn’t your thing, but you started this. You need to end it by apologizing first.”
Octavia sniffed, forcing down her tears. She stood up straighter, putting her eyes on Neon’s again. “No.” Neon had hurt her deeply; struck at her very core. She wouldn’t – she couldn’t – back down now. “Neon, you think me weak? You wish to know why Vinyl and I are so close? Fine. Let me show you.” Octavia trotted past Vinyl, stopping just in front of Neon. Without giving herself time to think, she slapped Neon across the face with her hoof. “I challenge you to a duel, Neon Lights. A musical duel, between you and me, to be held immediately. Win or lose, this will be the end of it and we will call a truce. Agreed?”
The slap wasn’t hard, but Neon rubbed his face anyway, not quite sure how to react. After a moment to recover, he nodded. “Alright, you’re on, money-bags. You and me.”
A flurry of emotions passed over Vinyl's face. Things were clearly getting progressively worse and worse, and she was terrified she would be forced to pick sides.
Octavia could see in the way she stood silently, her lip trembling, her DJ friend was terrified about how this would all turn out.
Neon and Octavia wasted no time; Town Hall was commissioned within the hour to set up for the duel. The Mayor was overjoyed to host an event like this, even on such short notice. Pinkie was contacted and a speed-party was prepared.
While he didn’t have time to bring in any of his flashier effects, Neon kept a basic sound and lighting system at Vinyl’s house. He wheeled those over to the Town Hall, aided by a few ponies, recruited from the streets. Neon offered them all front-row seats in payment for their help.
By the time his gear was in place, his side of the stage was packed with his speakers, turntable and lights. But, despite the lack of effects, Neon was satisfied. This was a battle of music, not a casual spin-off. He wouldn’t really use effects like he normally did.
Octavia’s half of the stage was far less crowded, having only her cello and a stool for her to sit on, as well as a microphone to amplify her song through the whole hall. She had no sheet music; she would be playing songs straight from her heart, mind, and soul for this.
A crowd gathered quickly. Half of Ponyville arrived at Pinkie’s beck-and-call to watch a battle between genres. Vinyl, among the crowd, watched with worried eyes. She hoped, with all of her being, that this would truly be the end of their fighting.
Slowly, Octavia lifted her bow and began to play over the crowd’s clamor. Silence fell and the battle began.
Octavia opened with a slow, teasing melody. Within its notes laid the faint impression that more was there. The ears of all the gathered ponies heard more than was being played, a subtle undertone of a message that only Octavia’s purest songs could maintain. The cello rang through the hall pleasantly, the acoustics augmenting her song perfectly. She was flooded with confidence as well as defiance, the two ringing out through her song. Neon would not win. She would make him understand her motivations.
Neon’s reply, however, was instantly mocking. It was similar enough to Octavia’s beat to be confused for it, but was charged with the power of Neon’s sound system. With his magic flickering, turning knobs and adjusting the pitch control, Neon played a warped version of her melody, which exploded into a roaring bass drop. The crowd, previously humbled by the beauty of her song, was thrown into a cheering frenzy.
The music, Octavia was loathe to admit, did make her want to dance and cheer. It was a simple beat, using hers as a mere frame for the song as a whole. Octavia needed to admit; perhaps she underestimated Neon’s musical talent. She had made that song up on the spot, but here he was, repeating a remixed version of it, only a minute or so after she played it. The audio rippled, sounding like a powerful beast on the prowl, making Octavia’s skin crawl. With a sound like a screaming hydra, Neon’s song snapped to a close. He held a hoof to his ear, listening to the crowd cheer, then rolled it to Octavia mockingly.
The mare, however, waited in silence. She knew that if she tried to play to the crowd while they were this riled up, she wouldn’t get her music through to them. As the crowd calmed and turned their attention to her, Octavia began to play once more. This time, the song was not slow, but was carried at a fevered pitch. Her bow danced over the strings like snow on a breeze and her body rocked like the cradle to the very foundations of Equestria. She felt the music overcome her, surround her, suffuse her. She sighed out a low breath, closing her eyes. Gently, without realizing she was doing it right away, Octavia began to sing.
She spoke no words, but simply added the melody of her voice to the symphony. She had never really considered singing along with the song before, but this just felt… right. The harmony between her voice and the cello was so complete that she felt as if she were truly one with the instrument. As she continued, she realized that she’d placed another part of herself, her voice now, into her music. Jokingly, she wondered when it would consume her completely. As if it already hadn’t.
The pause after the song lingered for longer than any Octavia had heard before. Everypony was waiting, eyes wide and expectant, for more. Once they realized that was the end, they cheered and stomped their hooves, a more rowdy crowd than Octavia was used to, but it still made her blush.
Neon’s kick drew the crowd’s attention with a blaze of sound.
This was one of his more popular songs; a loud, boisterous cacophony of noise, that shook the mind to its core. Octavia noted less cheering in the crowd, but far more dancing. Octavia couldn’t blame them for that; she felt her own hoof tapping to Neon’s beat, even as she planned her counter-song.
Back and forth, the two played, well into the night. Song after song rang out over the crowd, who cheered and danced for Neon and listened attentively, wrapped in awe, for Octavia. Soon, the finale drew near.
Octavia took a deep breath, then started her crescendo. Ever since her second song, Octavia hadn’t added her voice to her music. Now she did again, and this time, she sang actual words.
The lyrics were made up on the spot, a tale of her journey through life; she sang of her moving to Ponyville and finding her destiny in the cello. This transitioned into a brief spin of friendship and what she’d learned. Most all of Ponyville gathered there had known Octavia and Vinyl as they’d grown. Octavia saw tears being shed at the memories she was bringing to life.
Gradually, she shifted tones, and her song becoming sad as she sang of the foolishness of moving away to Canterlot. She sang of lonely streets and empty smiles. She transitioned back to her return to Ponyville, the sorrow fading from the music. As she sang of the ponies she’d met, of the great things she’d accomplished, Octavia slowly recognized her own tune.
It was her song; that first magical song that had given her destiny to her. She hadn’t begun playing it consciously, but now her hooves moved, as if on their own accord, continuing that melodic perfection. It was a brand new tempo, familiar, yet new; filled to the brim potential, happiness, and all of her hard-earned skill.
The crowd was beyond words, all staring at her, enraptured. All of them had heard the song before at one time or another, all of them knew its importance. Neon, who had never heard the song until now, stared in amazement, his glasses tipping off his muzzle in his lack of attentiveness.
In this song, Octavia was whole.
The song slowly ended and Octavia was herself again; incomplete, but content. She drew a hoof over the cello, panting. It was only then that she realized she was sweating; her breath was ragged and her hooves felt heavy. Her hair, still somewhat in its original style, was slightly frazzled here and there from a particularly harsh whip of her head during her composition.
The silence that washed over her was absolute. At first, she began to worry that perhaps she’d done something wrong. Had everypony else heard something she had missed? But when she looked more closely, even Neon’s eyes flickered with the moisture of tears.
Fear gave way to relief and Octavia slumped on her stool, letting her bow drop to her side. She smirked at Neon and rolled her other hoof at him, urging his eyes back to his turntable.
Neon looked back to his instrument and hesitated. For a moment more, he was silent. With a great sigh, he reached up a hoof and turned off his system.
“There’s no way I could follow up a song like that," Neon announced into his microphone. "I give.” Neon held a hoof up in defeat.
The crowd exploded to life around them, cheering loudly and stamping their hooves. They chanted Octavia’s name, shouting for her to play her song again. Vinyl was up in the front, stomping her hooves louder than most, whistling and waving to Octavia. Tears were running down from under her glasses. Octavia felt pride flow through her body; she had moved Vinyl to tears.
Neon made his way over, the defeated pony approaching the winner. He sighed and ran a hoof over the back of his head. “Look, I’m really sorry about what I said earlier. I haven’t had very good experiences with Canterlot ponies and… you look and act a lot like they do.” He stood more properly, putting his hoof back on the stage. “I said a lot of junk I can’t take back and I’ll work to make it up to you, I promise. Tonight, you showed me that not all refined ponies are terrible. Or maybe not…” Neon grinned, punching Octavia lightly in the shoulder. “I think you actually proved that you ain’t no wallflower, Miss Priss. You’re a perfect musician, but you ain’t no Canterlot mare. You’re a Ponyville mare, through and through. And that was the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.” He smiled, offering the hoof he’d just tapped her with. “Forgive me?”
Octavia looked from his hoof, up to his face. She smiled back, nodding. “Only if you’ll forgive me for being so… jealous. I was rather rude myself. I’m not normally so prickly.” She gave his hoof a bump, making the crowd cheer even louder. “Just… don’t try to set me up on any dates, okay?”
“Fine, fine.” Neon grinned. “I’ll just set you up to make some more friends. That reasonable?”
“Very much so.” Octavia nodded, looking out into the crowd at Vinyl. “You know, in all our time talking, I don’t think I’ve ever said this. If you hurt Vinyl, I will introduce you to just how vicious a mare can be.” She shifted to look like she was shaking his hoof from afar, locking it into a hold and shocking him with her strength. When you got right down to it, as proper as she was, Octavia was still and Earth Pony. She was much stronger physically than Neon would ever be.
“Message received.” Neon laughed, then turned, holding up their crossed hooves, earning another loud cheer. Vinyl was smiling and, to Octavia, that was all that mattered.