What the Future Holds

by OmniscientTurtle

Challenge Accepted!

Vinyl’s interpretation of the school hadn’t been quite what Octavia had expected. She’d only anticipated some simple descriptions of the matrix of hallways and maybe some hints as to some shortcuts. What she had received had been a full examination of every minute detail a school could possibly offer, and then some. Everything from the school’s history, to which hallways she should avoid at certain times so she wouldn’t get stuck in traffic, to exactly how many books she could fit inside one of the lockers.

Since they’d taken the scenic route, which Vinyl had insisted upon to further educate Octavia, they had been a single minute late for math, which was more than enough for Miss Caralot to give them a scolding. Her threats fell on deaf ears, for despite her giving them what was clearly a scolding, the calmness in her voice clashed with the words she was actually speaking.

Octavia had transferred just in time for their unit on basic algebra, which for her was dreadfully easy, just like she expected. She hadn’t felt any need to volunteer her answers; after all, what purpose would that serve? Vinyl on the other hoof had absolutely no problem with showing off her knowledge, answering almost every question the teacher posed. To her annoyance a good portion of her answers were completely wrong, to which many of the other foals in the class giggled at.

Octavia loathed that. Had they been laughing at her, she would’ve guaranteed a harsh rebuke, if not a hoof to the face; in fact, she almost felt like doing it anyway. They didn’t have any right to laugh at Vinyl’s mistakes; at least she was trying.

Yet, all the white unicorn did was smile. Not even a hint of red existed anywhere on her face but her eyes. Instead of punching them, she laughed with them, occasionally making a remark even Octavia had to laugh at before going right up to bat for the next question. Every time she answered, right or wrong, her smile seemed to become a little bit wider.

-----

After math, the two had gone their separate ways, Vinyl making a promise to Octavia that they’d meet up at two sharp before they went into orchestra together. She’d performed some weird ritual she called a Pinkie Promise, something that both intrigued and kind of scared Octavia. Apparently it meant that she wasn’t allowed to break it should Celestia smite her, but Octavia could tell from Vinyl’s carefree tone that it was all in good fun, and no ponies would in fact be hurt in the making or breaking of a Pinkie Promise.

Last period arrived all too late for Octavia’s liking. Standing outside the double doors to the room for all things musical, she was both excited and worried. Vinyl had assured her that she’d be fine, and that Noteworthy was an understanding teacher, but she still couldn’t quite shake off the worry. The clock chimed two. She scanned the area around the entrance again, seeing no signs of the white unicorn.

“Where the hay is she,” she thought.

After only a few seconds of worrying, she shook her head. This wasn’t like her; she didn’t need somepony to hold her hoof through every class. Why should she care about the on-timeness of a unicorn she just met today? With new confidence, she charged through the pair of wooden doors.

It was such a relieving sight, compared to all of the cramped schoolrooms she’d been stuck in previously. Arcing rows of seats filled with aspiring musicians, ranging from the smallest violins to the largest tubas fanned out before the conductor, the rumored Noteworthy. All around the room enormous black lockers stood against the curved white walls, white labels dictating their contents. The smell of steel and wood filled the air, the sounds of foals putting their instruments together giving a sharp contrast to the wondrous melodies that she imagined would soon follow. She approved of the way the conductor had arranged the instruments, with the higher-pitched sopranos being conscripted to the front and the lower basses being stationed to the far rear.

Noteworthy himself had the appearance of the toughest stallions. His dark blue coat was accented by an even darker blue mane. His yellow eyes overlooked his class, watching ever so intently for any sign of misconduct. He sat behind the master music stand on a black swivel stool, exposing his cutie mark of a trio of double eighth notes.

A quick turn of his eyes, and his attention was now locked on Octavia. Cupping the air with his hoof, he gestured for her to come closer. At his beck, she trotted around the giant fan of metal folding chairs, gently tip-hoofing around cases that had been left open on the floor. Standing before the podium, Noteworthy looked down upon her from his high perch. A delighted grin came across his face.

“Miss Adagio, I presume?” he asked in a thick voice, reminiscent of many judges Octavia had faced in her past.

“Y-Yessir.”

He extended his hoof towards her. “It’s such an honor to have you here.”

Her cheeks turned a light red. Praise from a math teacher didn’t have much value to her; praise from a music teacher was something she always longed for.

She met his hoof with her own as it was gently moved up and down. “Thank you, sir.”

“No need for the formalities. You can just call me Mr. Noteworthy.”

“O-Ok,” she squeaked.

“Is there anything you prefer to be called?”

She had to admit, she did like the sound of Miss Adagio, but it was too formal for conversations. “You may call me Octavia.”

“Alright, Octavia,” he repeated. “I don’t suppose you brought your cello today, did you?”

“No si…” She cut herself short as she remembered what he’d just said. “No, Mr. Noteworthy, I didn’t. I figured that I would get myself acquainted with the school before I began practicing with the rest of the ensemble.”

“That makes sense. Well for the time being, I will give you the music, and you can listen along and go through your part.” He hoofed her the material, a thick stack of musical print. “You will be sitting over there, right in front of…”

He pointed his hoof towards the far right edge of the ensemble. The xylophone that rested behind the empty spot reserved for Octavia lay vacant, much to his apparent annoyance.

He sighed. “Well, you would be sitting in front of Miss Scratch, if she were...”

“Sorry I’m late!!!”

Everypony in the room turned to face the source of the sound emanating from the entrance in the back left corner. Standing there was the form of Vinyl Scratch, mounted with her hooves farther than shoulder width apart. She heaved large breaths while sweat rolled down her white body, her belly expanding and retracting past what Octavia thought a normal filly’s could.

“Vinyl, why are you so late?!” Noteworthy yelled. “This is the third time this month!”

“I’m sorry teach… I just had something… I needed… to take care of,” she answered through her gasps for air.

“I hope it was important. Get to your xylophone, before I mark you as absent!”

As Vinyl trudged along the outer rim of the classroom, Octavia noticed something off about her spunky acquaintance. She had assumed that she was out of breath because she’d been running to get to orchestra on time, but she noticed now that her step was slightly off. After every three normal steps, on the fourth she would bend her head down, as if in pain. When she finally reached her instrument, the line of sight to her was finally un-obscured by instruments, revealing the problem to the watchful eyes of Octavia.

A disgusting blue mark on her right shoulder.

Noteworthy turned his head to Octavia. “Well, you’ll be sitting in front of her, for now.”

He swiveled his seat to face the rest of the ensemble, leaving Octavia to find her way. “Well now that everypony is here, let’s begin. We’ll start with tuning. Basses!”

-----

It was the longest she’d seen Vinyl so quiet. Through the entire forty minutes of practice, she never once tried to speak to the filly in front of her. Octavia was actually worried about her, wondering what on Celestia’s green earth could’ve caused such a stillness in the normally rambunctious filly.

However, during the course of the practice it became more and more apparent as to the true reason. From Octavia’s position, every note that Vinyl produced flew past Octavia as it blended in harmony with the sounds of the other instruments. With every hit, it became clear that the reason was much more simple than Octavia had imagined. Through the melodies of a variety of pieces, ranging from mystical to heroic, she found herself perfectly content in relaxing and listening to the melodies the xylophone brought to life. For a filly who didn’t yet have a cutie mark in music, Octavia believed fully that she deserved one.

Practice ended with a march by John Fillyip Sousa, The Gallop Seventh. Out of all the music that they played, it was her least favorite. Octavia never liked marches much; their tempos were much too fast and repetitive to a pony who preferred eliciting as much emotion as she could out of the music she played. With the teacher’s dismissal, young ponies got up and walked to their cases, carrying their instruments with either magic or strength.

It was the perfect chance for them to catch a better sight of the new filly. They were smart enough to try to be discreet, but they failed horribly; the increasing number of ponies just “happening” to pass by her, despite the lack of any music lockers near her seat.

When some of them passed Octavia, who was still sitting, they would look at her strangely before turning to their friends and whispering in their ears, causing them to giggle the most annoying laughs. Octavia growled; she knew exactly what they were saying, even though she couldn’t hear them.

Deciding it was about time to leave before any of those snobbish fillies actually verbalized their concerns, she straightened her posture as she planned the course she would take to rendezvous with Vinyl. As she was about to push herself off of the chair, she felt a hoof tap her on the shoulder. She turned her head to the right. A young colt was sitting next to her, no older than she was, sporting a cream coat and two green eyes that almost seemed a tad too big for his head. His short, wavy mane was bicolored; half pitch black, half a radiant gold.

Octavia only learned this after a few moments of staring at the other object of her attention; the sight of the instrument he held had instantly caught her eyes. With a single foreleg, he grasped an enormous golden saxophone against him, supported in part by a strap that went around his neck and connected to a small hook on the saxophone. It must have been at least a baritone, possibly even a bass, an instrument she’d only ever seen in music catalogs. She wondered how she had not heard such a bombastic instrument, especially since it had been played right next to her.

“Hey. You’re Octavia, right?” he asked in a tenor voice, a bit deeper than Octavia had expected of a colt his age, but befitting of his choice of instrument.

She looked at him, not sure what he had in store to say to her. She answered nervously, giving only a nod of her head.

“My name’s Clef. I just wanted to welcome you to Manehattan, and to our orchestra.”

Octavia smiled. This welcome was much more reasonable and considerate compared to the hug Vinyl had forced upon her earlier.

“Thank you.”

He reached behind his seat with his free hoof to grab the equally monstrous case his instrument would be stored in and pulled it toward him. “So, Octavia, what instrument do you play?”

She straightened her back as she resumed the posture she’d been in previously. “I play the cello.”

“Oh, thank you,” he said. “We are in desperate need of a good cello player. Our last one just moved away before the year began.”

“You don’t say…” she said nervously. “But, I-I’m not really that good.” She didn’t know why she’d just said that; normally that would be the time when she’d tell the colt how right he was. Then again, how could she boast about her prowess when he hadn’t even heard her wondrous talent yet? Her eyes drifted downward for a moment, catching a sight of his unmarked flank as they made the trip back up.

He began to disassemble his saxophone, breaking eye contact. “The way you were looking at your music the entire time says otherwise,” he continued. “I can tell you take it very seriously, which is more than I can say about a lot of the others in here.”

She looked at him curiously. “I don’t know how you can say that when I haven’t even played yet.”

“I don’t really know, to be honest. I can just tell.” With every piece where it needed to be he closed the lid of the case, flipping the safety latches to secure his instrument between the velvet-covered enclosures. “Sorry if that sounded a bit weird.”

“No no. It’s fine. Thank you.” She glanced around the room. “I, uh... I should get going.”

“Ok. Seeya tomorrow Octavia!”

With a wave, she headed off towards the door of the orchestra room, swinging a left around the now-abandoned xylophone Vinyl had been playing. Through the gaps of the rear-stationed percussion instruments, she peeked through into the back row of the ensemble as she sauntered along more slowly, catching a quick glance of the cream colt as he was organizing his music.

After what she considered too long a time for staring at another, a colt no less, she shook herself free, snapping her attention back to the hallway she was in. All of the ponies who’d been stationed there had already left, including the one who’d come in late. At the end of the narrow corridor, she could make out the form of her acquaintance from behind the flow of ponies heading out. With her right front leg over its adjacent twin, Octavia could see the unicorn was cackling softly to herself, clearly directed at her.

“What is so funny?” she asked, knowing it couldn’t have been anything good.

Vinyl grinned a devilish grin, made even more devious by her eye color. “I saw you were talkin to Clef just now.”

“Yes, I was, what’s your point?”

The unicorn uncrossed her legs as she turned one of her hooves around, resting its back against her temple as her eyes rolled in their sockets.

“Tavi and Clef, sittin in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” she sang in falsetto, putting extra emphasis on the colt’s name to make it fit into her song.

Octavia scowled as she realized what she was insinuating. “Shut up! Stop acting like a 4th grader, you foal! I’m not…”

Ignoring what her friend said, Vinyl continued. “Gotta hand it to ya, Tavi, you’re a charmer, that’s for sure. Getting a colt on the first day. Man, you Germane folk must have such low standards.”

“I said shut up!” She jabbed her hoof into Vinyl’s blemished shoulder. Even though she hadn’t meant to put much force behind it, the impact caused Vinyl to grab her shoulder as she winced in pain.

Octavia gasped. “I’m sorry, Vinyl. I didn’t…”

“Nah, it’s alright. I deserved that one anyway,” she said while setting her hoof gently back on the ground.

She turned her gaze back into the almost empty orchestra room. A few stragglers still sat scattered throughout the mass of seats, laughing and grinning whilst conversing with each other. Octavia followed her eyes, making the point of the unicorn’s attention her own as well.

The target had just gotten up, lugging his enormous saxophone case behind him to put it in a locker. His backside was on display, his bicolor tail swishing happily from side to side as he carefully put his instrument back into its respective slot.

“I didn’t mean anything derogatory by what I said. Besides, Clef’s a nice kid. He’s a bit of a loner, but everypony likes him all the same.” Her eyes rolled over to the grey filly, whose focus hadn’t yet changed. “But I’d wait a bit before you start going out with anypony, with you being new here and all.” She moved her mouth closer to Octavia’s ear, reducing her volume. “Ya might come off as a bit desperate.”

Octavia’s head rotated to face Vinyl. “Go out with? You mean date?”

Vinyl raised an eyebrow, lowering it only after she gave what Octavia had said a second thought. “Yeah, pretty much. I guess the phrase “go out with” is more literal in Germane. But yeah, I meant date.”

Octavia thrust her snout into the air. “I am not like that,” she scoffed. “I don’t have any plans on dating anypony now. Such a notion is stupid if you ask me.”

“What? Ya mean your gonna go through school without any kind of romance?”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Geez, Tavi, you’re boring.”

“Would you like me to punch you again?” she threatened, slightly intensifying her gaze.

Vinyl waved a hoof in front of her, warding off the wrath of Octavia. “No thanks. Once is enough for me.” Shoving off the wall with a transient grunt, she pivoted to face the door, to the annoyance of the grey filly who now had a tuft of a blue tail tickle her nose.

“Well, let’s get going. You can come with me to my locker, seeing you don’t have one of your own yet.”

They started out the double doors, turning left once in the hallway. Vinyl’s locker was conveniently close to the orchestra room, only requiring a short trip to the end of the hallway. She grabbed the lock with her magic, spinning the dial around in both directions before it slid off. The thin door swung open, revealing a crevice filled with candy wrappers, half torn books, CDs, a pair of headphones, and what Octavia swore was a horseshoe.

“Great job waiting for me before orchestra, Tavi,” Vinyl said with her face half buried in her locker. Octavia sensed a hint of irritation in her voice, a slight drop in key giving it away.

“You’re the one who was late,” she countered. “I was not about to be tardy to another class. Just because you’re fine with that doesn’t mean I am. You would do well to do the same.”

“Yeah yeah, ok, mom.”

“Are you really alright with not making it to classes on time?” Octavia asked, scanning Vinyl’s form as if looking for some sort of explanation. “Don’t you have any sense of self responsibility?”

“I just don’t see a point to it,” her voice echoed from within the locker. “I think that if we’re forced to come here, then we might as well be allowed to pick and choose when we wanna go to class. I just wanna have fun, ya know?”

Her words seemed logical enough (at least in application to somepony like Vinyl) but right now, they didn’t filter into Octavia’s mind as well as she would’ve liked. She was calculating, more than anything. A pony like Vinyl didn’t become irritated at such a trivial thing as another’s reluctance to be late.

She looked at the white unicorn’s shoulder, now revealed to have equally ugly shades of red and grey among the blue. “So, where did that come from?”

“That?” Vinyl wrenched her head out of her locker to look at the mark. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Vinyl. It looks pretty bad. You didn’t have that earlier today.”

Vinyl did not let her eyes meet Octavia’s, instead keeping her gaze trained on the interior of her personal storage space.

Octavia took the hint. “You’re not going to tell me?”

She brought her gaze down to her hooves with a sigh. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t any of your business.”

“Vinyl, I know I just met you today, but if there’s something troubling you, then....”

“Octavia, I said no!” she said with rising inflection.

Octavia stepped back. The mere mention of her real name sent an unnatural shiver down her spine. Ever since she’d given Octavia that god-awful nickname, she’d stuck to it; all three periods since homeroom that they’d had together, Octavia could never escape the sounds of “Tavi this” and “Tavi that”. It seemed alien to be referred to by her real name at this point, which just added to her doubts of Vinyl’s so-called “nothing”.

However, she reasoned that leaving it at that was the best course of action. Whatever irked her was none of her business. She’d already made it clear she didn’t want any help; if she didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t want to talk about it.

The conversation came to an awkward halt. Many seconds passed without a sound from either of them, something Octavia hadn’t thought possible with Vinyl. The unicorn in question refused to look at her; instead, her red eyes now glared menacingly at her books as she gathered the last of the materials she needed for her homework.

Thinking quickly, Octavia attempted to renew the conversation. “Say, Vinyl, you live next door to me, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You didn’t happen to hear somepony in the neighborhood blasting some music last night, did you?”

“Yeah I did,” she answered, keeping her focus on a couple of books she magically levitated into her unmarked saddlebag.

Octavia smiled, delighted to find somepony with whom she could share her thoughts. “How annoying was that? I mean really, at such a late hour, the least they could do was turn it down so the rest of us could get some sleep. And to play such trash, the nerve…”

Vinyl’s head snapped up, cutting off Octavia mid-sentence. “Trash? What the hay do you mean trash? That’s my music you’re insulting there!”

My music. My music. The pair of words echoed within Octavia’s mind like they’d been played in a great orchestra hall. In an instant, her brain was flooded with thoughts, too many to process at once, leaving her with an expression of sheer bewilderment on her face. She took a few moments to process the information, before bursting out the first thing that came to her.

“You were the one playing that trash?!”

“For the last time, it’s not trash!” Vinyl barked. “And yeah, I was the one playing it. It’s the best kind of music there is!”

Octavia held back an involuntary laugh. “I don't mean to be rude, but it most certainly is not.”

Vinyl shoved her forehead into Octavia’s, turning her already large eyes into enormous spheres of rage. “Well then, miss know-it-all, what’s your poison?”

“Poison?” Octavia asked while backing away from the sudden intrusion. “Why on earth would I want poison? That’s deadly.”

Vinyl’s raised a hoof before ramming her face into said hoof. “Ugggh, not an actual poison! It’s a saying. It means ‘what’s your favorite’.” She mumbled something else under her breath, most likely something insensitive against foreigners and their ignorance of slang.

“Oh. What an... interesting saying,” she said for lack of a better word. “To answer your question, though, I enjoy the dark and emotive works of Beethooven the most.”

Upon hearing the name, Vinyl’s menacing glare instantly shot blank; she stared Octavia dead in the eyes without a shred of her previous vigor, like there was something on Octavia's face that was of much bigger importance. The grey musician wasn’t entirely sure how to react in this situation; she wasn’t even sure what she’d said to cause such an impedance, especially considering the unicorn’s attitude until this point.

Without warning, Vinyl exploded into what couldn’t have been a healthy amount of laughter. She flung her head back, eyes closed merely to take in the absurdness of what Octavia had said. If the saying laughter is the best medicine was true, right now, Vinyl was the healthiest pony in the world.

Octavia’s mouth hung open a little, not sure if she should be sharing in the merriment or worried. She’d heard of mood swings, sure, but this was ridiculous. Even her father, who she considered to be one of the loudest ponies she knew when it came to humor, paled in comparison to the guffaws of Vinyl Scratch.

“HAHAHAHAHA! And you said MY music was trash?!” she bellowed.

The energy her excessive laughter required siphoned it from her calf muscles, dropping her to the floor while she clenched her stomach in a fruitless attempt for air. After a series of very quick hearty laughs, her laughter softened into brisk coughs of humor with long breaths between.

Naturally her show had drawn a crowd of her peers, who were now gathering around the two like moths to a flame. Despite the target of their attention being the one on the floor, Octavia couldn’t help but feebly attempt to hide her blushing as they gathered in a sparse semi-circle around the two.

From the spot where she was wallowing in her laughter, Vinyl finally acquired rest, belly expanding and contracting with the breaths she’d finally managed to catch. Ever so carefully she staggered back to her hooves.

“Oooh… Oooh… Tavi, you, are, SO funny! Pffft-HAHAHA!!!”

The last couple of laughs threatened to destroy her newfound balance, but quickly propping her right leg a little farther to the right solved the dilemma.

“Wha… What on earth?” Octavia demanded. “What was that about?”

Vinyl heaved a few more gasps before answering. “Tavi, I dunno if you’re serious or not, but really. I don’t know what age you’re from, but nowadays, nopony listens to that kinda stuff.”

Octavia gawked. “What do you mean by nopony? Millions of ponies attend classical concerts, you know. That’s hardly nopony.”

“Tavi, I hate to break it to ya, but it’s the modern age. Those guys are from the past. New music is definitely the way to go.”

“So what if they’re from the past? At least they put thought and consideration into their work, which is much more than I can say for that repetetive, boring, and eardrum melting electronic music you listen to! At least my music is interesting!”

“I’m not denying that at all,” she said finally managing to control herself to some degree. “There’s even some kind of orchestral rock that I really like. But Beethooven… Tavi, my grandma didn’t even like that kinda music, Celestia rest her soul.”

“Are you saying I don’t have good taste in music?!”

“Maybe if you lived a few hundred years ago,” she said with a smirk.

“That’s it!” Octavia slammed her hoof into the floor. “I’ll show you! I’ll prove to you just how wrong you are!”

Vinyl’s smirk softened into a devious grin, eyeing Octavia from the side. “How do you plan to do that?”

“I… I…” She scratched her head, realizing her sudden outburst might not have been as well thought out as she’d imagined. “I don’t know.”

“Well then it’s a good thing I do. C’mere.” She walked over to the nearest wall, motioning for Octavia to follow. The foals that had gathered to listen to their argument cleared a path for the two. Vinyl pointed at the center of the wall, where a large colorful poster was hanging.

“The Manehattan Primary Talent Show. Only the best of the school’s talent shows up there. We’ll see whose music is better with this!”

Octavia scanned the poster. Under the horribly indiscernible piece of trash somepony had the nerve to call art, the date was listed: Friday, November 20th, 6--9 pm.

“So, we both have little more than a week to prepare our piece?” she asked. “Seems a bit rushed.”

“Hey, I’m ready to go anytime!” Vinyl said confidently.

“That’s because your music is pre-recorded,” she countered. “All you have to do is hit a button, and it plays for you. No skill required.”

“Eh, that’s a bit misguided, but I don’t think now’s the time to educate you…” With the swiftness and surprise of a predator cat, she spun herself around Octavia, securing her head in her left foreleg as its twin proceeded to drill into Octavia’s once perfectly combed mane. “…about the other complexities that are involved with DJ-ing!”

Any call of opposition Octavia tried to make was lost to a garbled mess of what she actually emitted, but no less attracting the attention of her fellow schoolmates. Feeling adrenaline kick in, she tore off Vinyl’s hold on her, forcing the leg off like she’d once forced off a sweater her grandmother had once given her.

She settled down into a wide, defensive stance. Her once perfect mane now hung in a tattered mess all around her head, obscuring her vision. She flipped it out of her face back to where it belonged, revealing a face demons would find hard to stomach.

“I thought I already made it clear that I do not like to be assaulted like that!” she screamed in Vinyl’s face. “And let me make one thing clear. I am not going to stoop to your level and accept this petty challenge. You know why? Because I know that I’m better than you, and that I always will be! I don’t need to prove myself to you!”

She did a less-than-perfect about face, storming towards the door while gritting her teeth The other foals in the hallway sensed her burning fury, giving her all the space she’d ever need as she headed towards the front door.

“Scared?”

That word cut through the air like a throwing knife, finding its way to its target and burying itself in her psyche. The sheer volume of that one word was more than anypony watching would ever truly understand. It was enough to stop the filly in her tracks, freezing her upright. The hallway became eerily still.

“What… did you say?” the grey filly muttered softly.

“Let’s see if all that hot air is actually worth something,” Vinyl harassed, unafraid of any consequences. “Or did you make all that up about you being an excellent musician?”

What rational part of her remained told her to keep walking, to go home, maybe have a nice, relaxing cup of tea, and to ignore that foolish foal’s detriments and be content with the thought that she’d been the victor that afternoon. This path, though she knew was right, was instantly silenced by an overbearing, much more appealing idea. She knew giving in to Vinyl’s ruse was exactly what the cunning filly wanted, but she had no choice.

Her ability had been insulted. There was no turning back now

She charged back to where she once stood, her fiery temper leading her. She hadn’t even bothered decelerating; using Vinyl’s forehead as a roadblock seemed much more fun. Vinyl stood the force of the colliding forehead, her villainous smile becoming even wider.

“NEXT FRIDAY! THE TALENT SHOW!” Octavia screamed with less than an inch between their faces. “And you’d better be there, so that when I win, I’ll get to see the sweet look of defeat on your face!”

At that moment, she felt something on her own face. Not the sweat caused by anger, not a stray hair tickling her cheek. No, it was much more than that, almost unnerving. She wanted to keep scowling, but had no control as the corners of her mouth rose.

Was she… smiling?

“Whatever you say,” Vinyl said. “Just don’t start crying when I completely dominate you, kay?” she mocked.

Octavia stuck out her right hoof. With a smug grin on her face, Vinyl swung her own right hoof out in an unnecessary motion before bringing it back to interlock with Octavia’s.

“May the best pony win!” Octavia declared.

“Heheh, damn straight the best pony’s gonna win!” Vinyl agreed.

Their gazes never left the other. They couldn’t risk letting even the smallest amount of wavering show. Invisible sparks flared between their eyes as the hungry predators stared each other down.

In that moment Octavia felt something she’d never felt before; the feeling of invigoration. Never before had she felt so compelled to metaphorically grind another pony into dust and teach them the error of their ways. It felt so unfamiliar, her blood boiling from the fire of competition and contest. For the first time in her life, she felt that another filly was on the same level as her, even if all she’d heard was just hot air. For once, she felt that her reign as top musician had been threatened.

And she loved it.

There would be constant practicing after school from the both of them for the next week, of that there was no doubt. The lights would dim, the curtains would draw, and the battle of the century would reign. The two fillies, competing against the other, defending the pride of the music they loved.

There would be no mercy.

Comments

[blah2356]

I wish this story was more popular. You have a great story going on here and I can't wait for the next chapter. Keep up the good work!

[zombylover10]

Oooh dis gonna be good

[DaMagiks]

Can't...Wait...

[MoonfireXD]

Hmm... Not a bad story, at all. I won't lie; it could be a little better in it's execution, but the story is different from most and it's certainly keeping my interest. Well done. I'll be tracking this. Worth a thumbs up and a moustache! I look forward to the next chapter.

[Decaf Shaman]

Wh-what do you mean there's only five chapters so far? Whyyyy?!
...Anyways, despite that silly display above, I did rather enjoy the story. It took a bit to get into - I actually got into it at around chapter two, and then it all just started flowing at chapter three. Hope to see more from you!

[OmniscientTurtle]

641937 Thank you for the compliment. I'll admit, my chapter one isn't the best. I'm trying to give background, but it seems that every way I write it, it just ends up boring. I'm trying a new beginning, though, and hopefully it'll be more interesting. Stay tuned!