Octaves

by JapaneseTeeth

Chapter 7: Sacrificed Sons

Octavia sighed as she approached her door. She knew that she had locked it before leaving, yet it was open a few inches. Not to mention the trail of crumbs leading to the opening.

Oh boy, here we go…

She pushed the door open.

“Hello, Vinyl.”

“Hey.”

Octavia stopped. It was Vinyl’s voice, but it was so fatigued and strained that it barely sounded like her. Vinyl didn’t look like herself either. Her mane hung in frazzles around her face, and instead of stretching out over the couch, she hunched in the corner as if she had simply dropped herself there and couldn’t muster up the effort to move.

“Are you okay?” Octavia asked.

“I’m… okay.”

Vinyl raised her head and Octavia nearly jumped back in surprise. Vinyl wasn’t wearing her sunglasses. That alone would’ve been enough to cause a jolt, but actually seeing her eyes was a greater shock. They were red and bloodshot, as if Vinyl had just finished a long cry. For a moment it looked like somepony else’s eyes looking out from her body. It wasn’t just that she hadn’t seen Vinyl’s eyes before, it was that the expression simply didn’t work on Vinyl’s face. She had never, in all the time she had known her, seen the unicorn with anything other than a smile. It might be a resigned smile, or a forced smile, or a smile so subtle it barely qualified as a smile, but it was always there. Now it was gone.

“Vinyl, what happened?”

“The album’s finished,’ Vinyl mumbled as if she were talking to herself. “It turned out okay, I guess. It’s not as good as it should have been; it’s not as good as I wanted. But I got it done. And everypony thought it was pretty good. Not great maybe, but they liked it at least. It’s… finished.”

She let her head sag forward, as if there were a spot on the floor that had captured her interest.

“Are… are you sure that you’re alright? You look a bit… haggard.”

“I don’t even know,” Vinyl said softly. “It’s been so long since all of this started. And after everything that’s happened, all the tours, all the work I’ve put in, all of the stress, all the worrying about how it would turn out… I don’t know what to do now that it’s over.” Tears began to well at the edges of her eyes. “I don’t even know how to feel about it. Relieved? Proud? Sad?”

“Tired?”

“Huh?”

Octavia took a seat on the couch next to Vinyl. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone over the past few months. Right now, you need to give yourself time to relax. Time to let yourself recover.”

Vinyl was quiet for a while.

“Tavi?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“Why would I think that?”

Vinyl snorted. “‘Cause I made such a big deal about being a superstar, just about killed myself over it, and all I have to show for what I put myself through is an album that’s only kinda decent? I sure feel like one…”

“Do you want me to be honest?” Octavia asked.

“Yeah.”

“I must admit, I did think you were a bit of a fool.”

“I knew it!”

“Be quiet.” Octavia jabbed her lightly in the flank. “I wasn’t finished. At first, yes, I thought you were an egotistical fool with an overinflated sense of herself.”

“Figures,” Vinyls muttered.

“But as it turned out, I was not entirely correct. After seeing how hard you’ve worked, how much you’ve achieved, and how much of yourself you invested in following your dream… I must admit that it is hard not to admire that.”

Vinyl didn’t answer.

“Vinyl? I swear, if you fell asleep on me when I was trying to have a heartfelt moment—”

“I’m awake!” Vinyl said. “I just… I didn’t think you’d actually say something like that. Especially not after how things turned out.”

Octavia shrugged. “You may not have met the ridiculously lofty goals that you set for yourself, but by any reasonable standard you’ve accomplished quite a lot. How many other ponies your age have already gone on tour, and had a hit single?”

“I guess so,” Vinyl murmured tiredly. “It just feels… eh.”

“Vinyl…” Octavia narrowed her eyes at her. The expression was ineffective; the DJ still hadn’t bothered to look at her. Octavia settled for using a sharper tone. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“Mnnh.”

“Words, Vinyl. I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It’s nothing.”

“If it were nothing, you’d just tell me. What happened?”

Vinyl let out a long, low, sigh before answering. “My label dropped me.”

“What?” Octavia gasped. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be. I kinda figured it was gonna happen,” she shifted in her seat. “It didn’t sell quite as well as they were hoping, no thanks to them. I can’t really blame them, though. That album didn’t meet anypony’s expectations.”

“So what are you going to do now?” Octavia asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I’m out of the business entirely or anything. There are plenty of local labels who would sign me, and I’ll still be able to get plenty of Canterlot gigs at the places I was playing before. Though after all this, I’m not sure if I’d want to go through that again. I just don’t know.”

“Well, it has been a while since you actually thought your way through things,” Octavia said with a smirk. “Like I said, right now you just need to rest up.”

“I know that, I’m just not sure what I should do? I barely even remember what it’s like to have free time.”

“Hmmm.” Octavia thought for a moment. “You do still owe me a concert visit, you know.”

“I do, don’t I?”

“Yes. Next week I will be playing in an ensemble at the Canterlot Conservatory. It’s my last performance before classes begin again. I would be honored if you would attend.”

“I don’t need to dress up all fancy, do I?”

“It will not kill you to lose the sunglasses and comb your mane for one night.”

“I guess not.” Vinyl grinned, and for a moment she looked like her old self. “Especially after how you dressed up for my concert. I still wish I had gotten a picture of that.”

“Do not give me any ideas,” Octavia said.

“Maybe it’ll give me some ideas. After all, the most popular song I release was the one that had your cello playing on it. Maybe I could carve out a niche as an Electro-classical fusion musician or something. You know how to play instruments other than the cello, right?”

Octavia just glared lightly at her. “I thought you were going to relax.”

“Oh, right.” Vinyl leaned back. She still looked limp, but this time it was her natural, lazy kind of limpness. “It’s just hard not to. Music’s always on the brain, you know? I guess that’s what made all this so draining. It used to be something I did for fun, just to enjoy myself. Then it turned into a job. I never knew something I liked so much could be so much of a chore.”

“I could have told you that.”

“Yeah, I know. Heck, you probably did tell me that, and I just ignored you. But you know what?”

“What?”

“As much of a pain as it was, I still love it. I wish things could’ve turned out differently, but I still want to make music as much as I ever did.”

Octavia nodded. “Well, of course. Nopony who loves music as much as you would ever give up on it just because of this.”

“That’s right! I’ve still got way too much music to make. Just… not right this second.”

“I see. You just enjoy your break, alright?” Octavia stood up. “You’ve earned it.”

“That’s my plan.” Vinyl slowly leaned to the side toward where Octavia had been sitting a moment early. With a satisfied grunt, she flopped over onto the sofa. “I think I’m gonna take a good, long nap. It’s been a while since I really got some good sleep.”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “You had better not start snoring.”

“If I do, just poke me or something.”

“I certainly will.”

Octavia took a seat at her desk. Vinyl’s sunglasses sat on top of the stack of sheet music that she had been studying. Octavia picked them up. It was odd to think that Vinyl usually saw the world through them. She held them up to her eyes. Everything looked more or less the same, only a bit dimmer.

Behind her, Vinyl began to snore.

Octavia shook her head and set the glasses aside. She could live with it for the time being. Vinyl had earned the rest, after all.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Meta Four for helping proofread.

Comments

[Yami Vizzini]

Well, with any luck (and some rest) Vinyl can only go up from here.

[PresentPerfect]

It used to be something I did for fun, just to enjoy myself. Then it turned into a job. I never knew something I liked so much could be so much of a chore.

Boom, there it is. :)

[Cursed Quill]

7972298
Pardon?

[son_of_heaven176]

8388891
In other words, that quote encapsulated Vinyl's dilemma: Something that she enjoyed had the life sucked out of it by dint of the label turning music making into a chore.