• Published 2nd Mar 2012
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Changes - Fresh Blood



What's more important? Friendship, Celebrity status, or the trust of somepony who gives it to you?

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Chapter 13

The concert hall sat in silence as the last few notes coming from the orchestra on the stage reverberated through the building, the audience waiting until they died down. Unable to contain themselves right to the end, however, the various ponies of the Orchestra barely managed to pull themselves out of their final motions before an uproar of hoof beats and stomps drowned out the fading music.

Octavia pulled her bow away from her cello and glanced up at the audience, taking in the site of hundreds of ponies stomping their hooves in applause. It never ceased to amaze her that despite their joyous exuberance in showing their approval of the performance they still managed to exert some level of control over themselves. She didn’t expect whistles and whoops of encore, on the contrary, she was very satisfied with the response; it just amused her.

The rest of the Orchestra members stood from their seats, their instruments left on stands and after the conductor turned to bow at the audience they all followed suit, including Octavia. As her mane touched the wooden floor of the stage the crowd redoubled their applause, and it took several bows to placate them. From across the stage, Octavia noticed Beauty Brass rolling her eyes good naturedly at her over the reaction, and the cellist simply smiled.

As much as she found the local ponies of Canterlot tedious, she couldn’t help but love the way they allowed themselves to be moved by music. She’d done many performances where she’d made ponies cry tears, laugh with unexpected glee, and break out into spontaneous applause when a composition made an unexpected crescendo. And it was because of the way she could move ponies to such emotions that she loved music.

As the stands and boxes that made up the seats for the audience began to empty themselves, the ponies on stage began to pack away their instruments. The conductor, as was his want, began to make his rounds through the various sections of the group, congratulating them on a successful performance since their appearance at the Music Convention.

The concertmaster soon followed and Octavia also congratulated the rest of the cellists under her supervision before packing away her own instrument. “I suppose we’ve earned our usual drink this evening,” a male voice sounded behind her as she closed the lid of her cello case. The grey mare rose back up and turned around to smile at the brown stallion that had joined her.

“If my memory serves me right, Frederic, then it’s your turn to get the drinks,” Octavia replied, closing her music book and tossing it on to her cello case. “And I do believe I’m in a champagne mood.”

“Why is it that every time it’s my turn to procure the refreshments that you’re in a ‘champagne mood’?” the pianist asked, a tone of irritation hidden in his voice.

“Because you’re the only one of us besides Harpo that doesn’t have to lug around their instruments everywhere we go,” followed the voice of Symphony, the violinist joining the two with her instrument of choice slung over her back. “And you know it’s considered chivalrous for stallions to buy the mares in their company drinks.”

“But we all know Frederic isn’t the most chivalrous of ponies, don’t we?” Beauty Brass grinned after trotting towards them. Although she preferred to play the sousaphone during their quartet performances, the orchestra required her to play the tuba, and she too had it supported on her back.

A final voice joined the group as Octavia slung the strap of her cello case around her neck and across her chest before lifting it up and settling it on her back like the others. “Then I guess I’ll provide the drinks for such lovely young ladies.”

Symphony and Beauty Brass flocked towards the purple stallion, taking up station on either side of him and placing their shoulders against him. “Oh, Harpo, ever the gentle-colt,” they mock swooned in unison before sauntering off with him, leaving Octavia and Frederic to follow behind.

“Why does this always happen?” Frederic sighed, eliciting a light laugh from Octavia.

“Because you’re much too easy to tease,” she simply replied before trotting ahead to catch up. Once the perplexed pianist caught up and the group were together again, she continued. “And you always try and make things about fairness. We all go through our rounds, simple drinks for us all, and then if one of us wants something a bit more... classy on your turn, you question it.”

“She’s right, Fred, darling,” Beauty laughed, having removed herself from Harpo’s side in favour of Octavia’s. “We all end up paying the same eventually anyway; you should just accept it and take it on the chin.”

“Fine, I’ll buy the damn drinks,” Fred eventually exclaimed as they began to push their way through the throng of ponies moving through the corridors back stage. The other four ponies laughed to themselves and Harpo sunk back so he could give Frederic a gentle shove with his shoulder.

“You fall for it every time, thanks for the champagne,” the purple coloured pony jibbed, much to the pianist’s chagrin. Before he could voice any more complaints however, the ensemble had reached one of the backstage doors, and after Symphony had pushed it open were assaulted by flashing lights and the rabble of many voices talking at once.

The five had dealt with press before; many of their performances had usually garnered enough attention to warrant a paparazzi appearance. Almost every member of the orchestra had been interviewed at some point, though being one of the principles of the group usually meant that Octavia earned the most interest out of her friends. The grey mare hadn’t thought that the performance they’d taken part in had been that significant to attract the amount of attention that had filled the side street, however.

Eventually the rabble managed to organise themselves into some sort of order, thanks to the magic of a unicorn stallion at the back that used his natural talents to levitate a recording device in front of Octavia’s muzzle. “Miss Octavia, is it true that you were seen with DJ Pon3 after the music convention last week?”

That question was unexpected.

Beauty Brass attempted to get Octavia’s attention, but the cellist was distracted by a follow up question from a pegasus that managed to flutter above the rest of the crowd. “How long have you known Vinyl Scratch?”

“I... what?” The grey earth pony began to get more confused as the questions drew on, unsure of what exactly was going on. Her friends seemed to know full well, however, and despite their attempts to get Octavia away from the mass of press, she answered anyway. “I met her at the Convention, and yes, we did go out for drinks afterwards, but I don’t understand what-”

“Is it true that you’ve promised to collaborate with her in creating a new style of music?” Another question interrupted before she could finish answering.

“No, I never-”

“Did she spend the night in your apartment after your night on the town?” Beauty Brass and Symphony desperately tried to pull her away, whilst Frederic and Harpo ran interference by attempting to block most of the photography flashes.

“Yes, but-”

“For the love of all things musical, Octavia, shut up!” Beauty Brass frantically cried, eyes pinpricked as the cellist continued to answer the questions, oblivious to their meaning.

“What are the secrets to keeping your relationship going despite the busy hours you both keep?”

“What? I don’t even-”

“Is there any truth to the claims that you’ve secretly been dating for years and are in fact planning on making your engagement announcement when she returns from Las Pegasus?”

“What?!”

--

As many would expect from such a prodigious event, the Canterlot Music Convention this year brought together many musical masterminds in the appreciation of their art. Hundreds of ponies were in attendance, some to promote themselves, others to celebrate the achievements of music history, and others to simply enjoy the event. A full article covering the convention’s time table and review of the spectacular events that took place can be found on pages 8 through 15, but as always, ‘Mare’s Weekly’ makes its priority to bring you all the hottest gossip on celebrities first.

Many of you have been keen followers of the epitome of night life herself, Vinyl Scratch, aka DJ Pon3. Her various exploits have been covered quite extensively by us in the last year from stories relating to her rise to fame, to the numerous liaisons she’s had with other celebrities, the least of which received most attention from the brief stint she’d had with Sapphire Shores last spring.

We planned on interviewing her after her performance on the second night of the Convention and seeing just who she had her eye on next but we were told she was ‘feeling under the weather’ and had to reschedule our interview.

Fortunately, we were able to have an earlier interview with her and none other than the principle cellist of the Canterlot Symphonic Orchestra, Octavia. It was because of that interview, and the fact our sources suggest Octavia was present as a guest of Vinyl at her concert that we decided there was something more than the story we’d been fed as an excuse for Vinyl’s absence.

We proceeded to follow DJ Pon3 for the duration of the convention and found that she spent all of her time with Octavia, even after the majority of the CSO had retreated to rest for the performance they were scheduled for the following week. As well as socialising with the well documented friends, Lyra Heartstrings and Bon-Bon, Vinyl kept Octavia close to her side and after the group separated the two were seen heading into Canterlot’s lower quarters.

Following the pair revealed that they had secluded themselves to a bar far from preying eyes where they could share a drink, most likely without being pestered by unwanted company. They didn’t stay long, however, and soon returned to the inner city, visiting ‘The Music Lounge’, a high class bar frequented by Octavia and her closest friends, where they shared more drinks. The two shared wine and conversed, seemingly avoiding other members of Octavia’s ensemble seated not far from them until they once again moved.

We dutifully followed, and witnessed firsthoof the influence Vinyl Scratch can have on a pony. Octavia has been a very elusive pony for us to interview and all attempts to catch her doing anything remotely out of the ordinary for her have been fruitless. Couple her with Vinyl, however, and she seemed to have become a different mare entirely.

As evidenced in the photos featured throughout this article, the two were seen bar hopping, lingering outside the legendary ‘Fillyfools’ bar, and finally wandering home with the traditional drunken late night meal of hayfries and hayburgers, with which Vinyl took the time and effort to help the inebriated earth pony eat with her magic.

The night came to a conclusion when the two ponies were then seen entering Octavia’s apartment building where it is believed Vinyl Scratch stayed the night. Unfortunately no photographic evidence could be obtained of the DJ leaving the next morning but it can be assumed due to the lateness of the time they were seen entering the building and the notorious reputation Vinyl Scratch has earned in her years as a celebrity that she did not leave early.

It can of course, be viewed as nothing more than friends enjoying a night on the town, we can neither confirm nor deny a budding relationship between the two ponies. However, Octavia on the face of things doesn’t seem to be Vinyl’s typical target when looking for potential suitors, there’s always the possibility that the well-mannered and respectable cellist could have captured the rambunctious DJ’s heart and taking on the challenge of settling her down.

As usual with our coverage of developing romances, any information shedding more light on these interesting developments and confirming or disproving a romantic relationship will earn our one thousand bit reward. Further pictures of the two are also sought after and our usual payment will be made for those of a decent enough quality. Until then, we’ll be keeping a close eye on these two musical idols and wish them all the best in whatever direction they may be heading.

By
Snapshot.

Octavia stared at the magazine once she’d finished reading it, then read through it once more. “Frederic, forget the champagne, I’ll have a whisky please,” she eventually spoke, her voice calm and level.

“Octavia, I don’t think-”

“Get me a whisky,” she repeated again, though less of a request and more of a demand. Frederic didn’t argue at that point, heading off towards the bar and leaving the mare alone with her remaining friends.

The revelations of her ‘night on the town’ didn’t come to a shock to her friends. Following Vinyl’s departure from her apartment, the cellist had divulged her entire night to Symphony and Beauty, who were all too happy to share that with Harpo and Frederic. By the time the five had met up for practice they all had enough jokes and comments prepared to ensure Octavia was thoroughly teased. None of them dared to risk teasing her after what had happened at the music hall, however.

The group had eventually managed to get away from the press once Octavia had clammed up, the nature of the questions bombarding her sending her into a stuttering and flushed state of shock. They had managed to make it back inside the doors and, after relinquishing themselves of their instruments, made a hasty retreat through another less crowded door. The flustered mare surrounded herself with her friends who pushed their way through the paparazzi. Once they were free from immediate pressures they all decided that the best place to discuss the situation was their private both in ‘The Music Lounge’, isolating themselves from potential pursuers behind a thick velvet curtain.

“Octavia, dear,” Beauty Brass began, patting the mare’s foreleg from the seat by her side. “I don’t think there’s that much to worry about...” She trailed off once Octavia slowly turned her head to stare at her. “... Though maybe there might be a little...” she finally finished by punctuating her sentence with a nervous laugh.

“A little?” Octavia replied, her tone slightly louder than usual. “Oh, I guess you’re right. Having your personal life dragged through the papers isn’t really that much of a problem. I mean, let’s face it, I’m all about keeping everypony in Equestria up to date with my love life.” The gesticulation of her hooves and over the top attitude made it obvious she thought the exact opposite of that, even if the other ponies in the booth were oblivious to the heavy sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“It’s just a silly magazine article,” Symphony offered, trying to calm her down whilst at the same time keep her gaze in every direction other than Octavia’s. “I don’t think ALL of the papers are printing it...”

“After confirming that Vinyl had spent the night with me in my apartment after a night of apparent debauchery in front of almost every journalist in Canterlot? I think it’s only a matter of time before they are.” The cellist huffed, and then dropped her head towards the table, resting her forehead against the clean, cool surface. “My life is ruined,” she then muttered, her voice muffled by the table.

“I don’t really see what the problem is,” Harpo eventually spoke once Frederic returned with Octavia’s whisky. “You said yourself that you find the mare attractive.”

“I never said that!” The distressed mare was quick to argue, raising her head with a blush evident on her face as she dismissively thanked Frederic for the drink, taking a large sip from the glass afterwards. “I only admitted that I liked her, and that was only after the insistence of Beauty Brass.”

“It was true though, I could tell from the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off her,” Beauty agreed, subtly turning the magazine round so she could look at the pictures that had been printed, Symphony edging towards her on her seat to look over her shoulder.

“My point still stands,” the harpist continued once the group had quietened down again. “You ‘like’ her, but you’re making out as if this is the worst thing that could happen. It seems to me that this is the perfect opportunity to admit your feelings to her, even if your hoof has been forced.”

The group went silent for a moment, content to listen to the gentle ambient music being produced behind the curtain. “Even if I wanted to, which I don’t,” the cellist eventually spoke up, “Vinyl is in Las Pegasus on tour. I have no idea which hotel she’s staying in, or if she’d be there. By the time a letter made its way to her she’d most likely have already left.”

Frederic, now seated beside Harpo shook his head slightly. “She’s probably facing the same problems you’re facing,” he began, drawing the troubled mare’s attention towards him. “I’d wager she’s just as stumped as you are about how to resolve the situation and will be likely to get in touch with you when it’s easier for you to reply to her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came to visit you personally.”

“Right, because that will go down well,” Octavia sneered, rolling her eyes, “A magazine prints a news story that’s sure to have everypony keeping a watchful eye on the pair of us, and she starts sending private messages and trying to visit me undercover. Nothing says a secret romance like secret correspondences.”

“At least that sounds romantic,” Symphony absentmindedly remarked as she studied a photo of Octavia drinking from a glass held aloft by Vinyl’s magic. It took her a moment before she realised the other ponies in the booth were looking at her and she blinked. “Well it is... just think about it. If Vinyl were to reciprocate our dear Octavia’s feelings then she’d know that she wouldn’t want to draw any more attention to them. So she’d be all secretive about it. Sending little love poems or gifts, visiting under the cover of darkness and serenading her with music.”

“And then they’d arrange dinner dates between themselves,” Beauty Brass chimed in, the two suddenly become engrossed in their own romance story, oblivious to the sheer awkwardness Octavia was feeling from being the centre of their little imaginings. “They could have candle lit meals in each other’s homes.”

“Oh, and maybe they could don disguises so they could actually go out in public together?” Symphony practically squealed whilst Harpo and Frederic looked at the two mares with baffled expressions. Octavia downed her whisky. “From the looks of these pictures it’d be pretty difficult; they stand out so much together. But maybe swap the glasses around, a different style of mane for Octavia... and a brush for Vinyl. A hat or two and long dresses each...”

“Alright, that’s my cue for me to leave,” Octavia quickly exclaimed, failing to stop the other two mares as they continued to prattle on about different scenarios that they envisioned happening. She forced her way past Frederic and half exited the curtain before calling back, “I’ll catch up with you all when you’re in more sensible moods.” And with that she left the booth.

‘The Music Lounge’ was as busy as it usually was on a Sunday evening. Many ponies in her profession worked long hours and it was typically expected that Sunday evenings were for relaxing before the whole week began again. Waiters and waitresses flitted about from table to table, ensuring that the high profile guests they were serving were happy with the drinks they had and making sure that they earned a decent tip.

She looked over to the corner of the room, longingly eyeing her usual table when not seeking privacy and contemplated taking up residence. From that table she could see the entire room, enjoy the music being played by the live musicians on the stage and simply while away the hours until she was inclined enough to make her way home. But with the continuing mutterings coming from the curtain behind her, and the way some of the ponies in the room were looking at her, she found herself believing that it wouldn’t be as relaxing as she usually found it.

The area of Canterlot that she grew up in and currently resided was considered high class. She was in no way a noble, even she was looked down upon by those ponies, but she was still respected. Not many ponies of her stature would read magazines such as ‘Mare’s Weekly’, but she knew that those that did would be quick to pass on the story. Gossip spread like wildfire in a community that was all about reputation as it was about substance, and she knew that some ponies would be taking interest in her affairs.

Deciding it better for her to retire to her apartment early rather than risk potential and uncomfortable conversations about her new friend, she turned to leave. The majority of the ponies she passed paid her no mind, continuing with their conversations and enjoying their evening. One or two hushed up, averting their gaze and making it obvious they were trying not to look at her. Feeling her face redden slightly she ignored them, trotting on until she exited the bar.

The crisp autumn air quickly cooled her down, taking several deep breathes to calm her nerves before making her way down the street. There were still plenty of ponies meandering through the ever active city, and Octavia scanned every one of them briefly in search of cameras or other paraphernalia that would give away a pony’s intentions.

Although she was extremely happy with the fame and renown she’d earned, she hated the press. They never knew when to stop asking questions and were constantly trying to get more out of her than was necessary to finish whatever they’d set out to do. She was always reluctant to take interviews and give statements on how a performance had gone or how she coped with the pressures of her job. She’d only ever agreed to do any sort of media appearance if it was with a friend or set up carefully by the Orchestra’s marketing director.

As a result, having her personal life suddenly invaded in such a manner was more than disconcerting. When ponies think they know something they tend to tell others about it, and somewhere along the line the message gets muddled and the rumour mill kicks into overdrive.

Sighing heavily, Octavia lowered her head, trudging on towards her apartment, the sun hanging low in the sky and casting the city into an early twilight. Her thoughts began to drift towards the DJ she’d been accused of being paired with and she laughed bitterly to herself. “I bet she’s used to this sort of thing,” she muttered, conscious that no pony was close enough to hear her.

The article had called Vinyl ‘notorious’, and it was heavily implied that she had a reputation of having ‘liaisons’, with other ponies. Octavia found that that, despite the whole situation she had been placed in, was what annoyed her the most. She couldn’t explain her feelings to herself properly, let alone to other ponies, but she knew she had far less experience with relationships as other ponies and the fact that Vinyl seemingly had an abundance of it irritated her.

Irritation soon turned to anger as she began to replay her time with Vinyl through her head. Bon-Bon had said that Vinyl was interested in her, or at least tried to point it out. Was she just trying to help Vinyl add another notch to her bedpost? Maybe they’d planned it all along, find a mare that was by herself, string her along and try to get her in to bed?

“The nerve!” she suddenly shouted, startling a guard pony as she passed him. He looked at her quizzically but she ignored him, too lost in her own thoughts to consider apologising and continued on her way.

It wasn’t until she rounded a corner and began to make her way down the boulevard that took her to her apartment building did she sigh once more, her anger flickering out and being replaced with guilt. “They wouldn’t do that.” It was her that approached Vinyl, asked her if she could join her for breakfast, not the other way around. And Bon-Bon was far too sweet to be embroiled in that sort of deviancy; no pony could bluff the sincerity that she exuded.

She concluded that she was letting herself get worked up over something that somepony had interpreted wrongly and that she should let it go. Most gossip ran its course, she just had to wait until the next scandal came along and she and Vinyl would be old news.

Click.

A blinding flash blurred the cellist’s vision, and she finally took note of her surroundings. She’d made it to her apartment building, but stood in the door way were two unicorns, one with a floating camera above her head, a short pink mane framing her head, a stark contrast to her green coat. The other, a stallion with an unusually dark black coat with a matching dark mane, held a pen and pad of paper. Octavia groaned.

“Miss Octavia, could we have a word with you?” the stallion with the pad asked, a false smile stretched across his muzzle.

“No, you may not,” Octavia bluntly replied, nose up as she approached. The pair refused to part, however.

“We’d just like to ask you a few questions, it won’t take long,” the other unicorn said, her camera clicking once more when Octavia came to a stop.

The musician huffed and glowered at the photographer, who smiled back, unaffected by the death stare she was being given. “I know exactly what the questions will be about and I refuse to continue these idiotic rumours further. Now, kindly step aside.”

“What is your relationship with Vinyl Scratch?” the stallion asked, blatantly ignoring the mare’s demand.

“None of your concern,” came Octavia’s flat response.

The male unicorn grinned, his pen jotting down a few notes. “You know, such outright uncooperativeness like that might suggest to us that there is indeed a relationship. You must see the logic in telling us all the little sordid details to avoid vicious rumours spreading, no?”

Octavia looked between the two unicorns, a deep frown forming on her lips as she narrowed her eyes at them. “I do hope you aren’t suggesting you plan to commit libel, my dear ponies, because that would end very, very, badly for you.”

“Oh, nothing of the sort, I’m just suggesting that rumours and gossip tends to get around, and usually the truth is the only thing that can stop it. An interview might help with that,” he grinned, tapping his pen on his pad whilst the mare with him took another photo, apparently for the sole intention of irritating Octavia. “An exclusive interview?”

“No comment,” was Octavia reply before she barged into the mare. Earth ponies were known for their strength. What they lacked in magic and flight they made up for in shear power. Add that to the weight of her cello that she carried to every performance and Octavia was in very good shape. The unicorn mare was quickly shouldered aside, the act almost surprising her into dropping her camera and the cellist made her way through to the atrium.

“You Canterlot mares are all the same!” The unicorn stallion quickly called after her, venom positively dripping from his words. “You pretend to be all high and mighty and above the rest of us but really you’re just as filthy as the streetwalkers of Manehattan. There’s no point in protecting your one night stand, Octavia, we’ll find what we want eventually, and then all your dirty little secrets will be out for everypony to see!”

Biting her tongue, and almost shaking with rage, Octavia ignored him. She waited for the elevator after summoning it, her ears flicking to make sure that she hadn’t been followed inside. The two unicorns had remained outside, not wanting to try their luck further and when the elevator arrived she entered and turned to see that the atrium was as empty as it should be.

As soon as the doors dinged to a close she let herself go, a quick vocal outburst fuelled by anger, followed by a loud clang. She panted afterwards, her hind legs jarring as she turned to see the two hoof marks embedded into the glossy, brass wall of the elevator, the thin metal casing dented slightly from the buck she’d given it.

The act of lashing out at something did wonders to her mood but she was still upset. She hadn’t expected to be accosted at her home. She could handle journalists at her place of work, even at bars she may venture to, but having to put up with them at her own doorstep proved a little too much for her.

The whole situation was beginning to get out of hoof, and it was only the first day. She couldn’t decide on what frustrated her more, whether it was the fact that the article had been published in the first place, the idea that ponies were talking about her, or the fact that she had to try and get a lid on top of it all. Or the fact that there isn’t some truth to the rumours, she thought, before stopping herself with a shake of her head.

She struggled to keep her thoughts off Vinyl for a moment as the doors opened and she approached her front door. It was as she was turning her key in the lock that she let her mind wander. No... why am I stopping myself from thinking about her?

Letting herself into the hallway, she shut and bolted the door behind her, thoughts coming and going. She looked at the board where Vinyl had pinned her and Lyra and Bon-Bon’s addresses on before reaching up and pulling down the couple’s with her teeth. I may not be the most intelligent of ponies when it comes to suggesting a relationship but I think I know somepony who is.

Address in her grip, she made her way into her bedroom, avoiding the clutter and mess that blocked her way, kicking a bag out of her way before taking her seat at her desk. Light illuminated the wooden surface as she clicked on the lamp, revealing a fresh piece of parchment that hadn’t been stained by coffee.

“Ok, nice an easy,” she muttered before taking up her pen in her mouth and beginning to write.

Dear Bon-Bon and Lyra,...