Chapter Twelve
The Ceilestio nightclub was on fire that night. The floor had almost no space for anypony to stand, and the air above it was so filled with pegasi and other flying creatures that they may as well have been standing on one another’s shoulders. DJ-PON3 had outdone herself yet again, hitting up the local clubs on a comeback tour after the briefest of vacations just a day or two prior. She called out barely audible over the bouncing crowd, who whooped and hollered their approval of her music back at her. It was difficult to tell who was having more fun at the event.
One stallion stood leaning in a corner where he found the most breathing room the mob of clubbers would allow. It was near the bar, but not near enough to be bothered by the horde of ponies constantly trying to buy more drinks, and far enough from the building’s speakers so that a conversation could just barely take place. He wasn’t there to lose himself. He just stood looking at the night’s DJ, smiling a bit to no pony in particular. He was light blue in color, with a spiky black mane. His blue eyes looked tired, and creases around them showed where some pair of glasses usually sat. Tonight, though, it seemed he left them at home.
The stallion was shaken from his trance when a pony bumped into him. He turned to say ‘Excuse me’, but one look at the grey mare made him question if it would even be worth the trouble. She was pretty far gone, with her movements lumbering, her long dark grey mane a complete mess, and her one article of clothing, a pink bowtie, coming undone. She was trying her best to move with the pounding beat of the music, despite each movement nearly causing her to fall to the floor. After a few seconds she looked up at the stallion she bumped into.
“Hey… Yer kinda cute…” she slurred.
“Um… Thank you.” He could barely make out the conversation in all the noise, and hoped there wouldn’t be much more to it.
“No, like, reeeaally cute.”
“That’s nice of you to say, but—”
“Shhhhh.” The grey mare wobbled over to him and placed a hoof over his mouth. “I think that we… I think that we should go somewur. Like, together.” She leaned up into his ear, half using his body for support at this point, and whispered, “Privately.”
The stallion raised both his hooves and gently removed the mare from himself. “Look, I’m flattered, really, but you’re obviously really trashed, and it wouldn’t be right of me. Please look somewhere else.”
“Hm. Yes. You’ll do, I suppose.”
“What?” The stallion was confused. The voice that came from the mare was completely unrecognizable from the slurs that came prior to it. Before the stallion’s eyes she erected herself into a pristine posture, and with a quick tussle of her hoof her matted mane was preened into something more elegant. She spoke again with a regal voice while correcting her askew bowtie.
“I said you’ll do. In all honesty I wasn’t expecting to find a stallion of any merit this quickly, but you certainly do seem to be of a respectable sort.”
“I… What?”
“My name is Octavia.” The mare said. “And I really would like to speak somewhere more private, if it’s all the same to you.”
- * -
A few days after her homecoming tour, Vinyl Scratch found herself at the Neighnth Circle, prepping her gear behind a closed curtain. The heavy drapes couldn’t stop the excited voices on the other side from coming through, but Vinyl didn’t mind; the excitement of others fueled her.
“Hey, Pon-three.” One of the stage hooves poked his head around a corner to address the DJ. “Looks like there’s a change of plans tonight. MC Wish cancelled.”
“What?!” Vinyl’s disappointment outweighed her frustration. “But… He… Never mind. So is the battle off or something?”
“Nah, he found a replacement. Quite the resume on her, but doesn’t look like she has much experience in the clubbing circles.”
“Then I’ll eat her alive,” Vinyl said, lowering her glasses to her face. She had no beef with this new mare — not really — but her irritation couldn’t stop her from asking, “So who is this new broad, anyway?”
“Didn’t catch the name. Anyways, sounds like they’re about to get started. I’ll leave you to it.”
“Neon Lights,” Vinyl muttered to an absent pony, “I swear to Celestia, if you ever—”
“LADIES AND GENTLECOLTS!” A boisterous voice followed by excited cheering from beyond the curtain cutoff Vinyl’s vocalized thoughts. “We here at The Neighnth Circle and proud to be your hosts for this week’s head-to-head match up!”
The roaring continued, as did the voice booming above it all. “First, to reacquaint everypony here with the rules: two artists locked in a musical combat! One creates, the other answers! After the first round their music is allowed to overlap! The idea is to competitively yet also harmoniously create something new and tasty for our ears to swallow! They’re free to riff on old stuff, so long as it’s stirred up and made fresh! And, as always, our celebrity judge will determine which of the two combatants gave the best licks to the song you will hear this one night only! With that, I would like you all to give a thunderous applause to tonight’s judge—”
A thunderous applause was indeed what the announcer received; the noise was so deafening that Vinyl couldn’t catch the name of the pony out there. Not that it mattered; the only pony she needed to know was the one she was minutes away from beating.
“With that,” the voice continued, “allow me to introduce our first combatant: the ever-popular Dee Jay POOOOOOWWN THREEEEEEEE!”
The curtain in front of Vinyl raised itself, and with it the volume and intensity of the cheering behind it. The DJ inhaled the room’s excitement and grinned. “GOOOOOOD EVENING MANEHATTAAAAN!” She yelled back at the crowd, prompting them to make even more noise. The only ponies not cheering and stamping were two ponies on similarly elevated platforms on her left and right, the right pony tan in color with a microphone in one hoof, and the one on her left a very light grey stallion with a blue mane and tail, both ending with red tips. Vinyl looked at the red curtains across from her, daring the pair of eyes on its other side to stare back.
“And now, the newcomer!” the tan pony said into his microphone. “Fresh to our scene but still holding a lot of promise, please welcome Miss TAviLIIICIOOOUUUS!”
“Tavilicious?” Vinyl asked herself just before her jaw hit her deck. The opposite curtain raised to reveal a mare that was almost familiar, but with noticeable differences. A normally well kept mane that swept across her face gracefully now ended with several spiked out strands, giving the impression of a cracked whip. Black triangles were painted underneath a set of deep purple eyes. She wore black studded bands on both her forelegs, and the violet bowtie around her neck had sharp enough edges to threaten any pony who got near it. In her hooves stood what looked like the shell of a cello, stripped of everything other than its strings, neck, and half the outline of the instrument’s belly. A sinister curved bow was poised at the ready, and a single chord trailed from underneath it into an amp plugged into two large speakers positioned behind the cellist.
Octavia came to play.
“What are YOU doing here?!” Vinyl yelled at the opponent standing across from her. Octavia said nothing, but gave her a steely gaze, her eyes barely visible from behind her eyelids. The crowd quieted, anxious for the pre-battle banter. “What, you want to try to ruin my life here too?! Clubbing isn’t good enough for you, yet you’ll stoop to my level just to beat me?! Is that it?! HUH?! ANSWER ME!”
The cellist didn’t move; she stood completely silent.
“FINE!”
The DJ slammed down on her synthesizer, belting out a chord that gradually grew in intensity, bringing to mind the image of an ancient dragon stirring to life, and with it the excitement in the crowd grew to match. Vinyl had this; she had her keyboard and a plethora of records to sample from. Once her musical dragon awakened, she made it give a harsh roar to announce to the world that it was alive and very much not happy to be disturbed.
With this, the cellist made her first move. She drew her bow long and hard against the strings of her instrument, a low electric tone reverberating throughout the room, and with it her tempo gradually increased. A heartbeat. Her notes spoke of the quest of an adventurer. A knight accepted a solemn duty, and ventured across the land, his will and valor increasing all the while. He did not relish his duty by any means, but the task fell to him. A peaceful end was highly unlikely.
Vinyl sat stunned for a moment. The notes that echoed from the opposite side of the building had Octavia’s classical style to them, yet somehow felt repurposed for a more modern setting. The DJ knew audiences loved a retro flair, but just how retro could one get and still make something worth listening to? If the reactions from the ponies between the musicians were any indication, that line had not yet been reached; they were loving it! Vinyl snarled and brought the first of her records to life. The dragon noticed the knight, a creature both predator and prey, and it refused to succumb to so small an enemy. Fire swirled in its belly and erupted from its mouth, fully intent on roasting the metal-clad warrior before it.
Octavia recognized her old roommate's record. She matched the notes that came from it, but struggled to keep consistent with Vinyl's new twist on its sounds. Her knight bent his behind his enchanted shield, each flaming blow weighing in heavily on him but he was still managing to survive. When the dragon paused to take a deep breath, determined to rain down more fiery torment, the knight dove behind the cover of a nearby boulder and let loose a few arrows aimed true at the beast.
Vinyl growled; having to change discs left her at a disadvantage that her enemy did not share. The DJ returned to stamping out chords on her synthesizer. The dragon roared, its frustration with the insignificant whelp before it growing to dangerous levels. It swiped at the airborne arrows, then at the wielder of the bow that nocked them. The knight dove away from claws as long as his own body, swiping at the fleshy palm attached to them with his sword as he did so. The beast howled in pain and thrashed its tail at the knight’s cover, shattering the boulder to bits. The warrior was thrown to the edge of the dragon’s cave; the wind was knocked from him and his body ached. He managed to pick up his sword and face the beast, the fire once on its breath now blazing in its eyes. After another roar the dragon swiped its other arm at the knight, missing by inches. The warrior cleaved his weapon deep into the beast’s arm. The monster reeled from the pain, arm swinging backwards in instinct, and with it went the knight. The soldier loosened his sword from the flesh it desperately clung to, and fell onto the back of the beast where he found a new mark. The dragon howled in pain and beat its wings hard to loosen the tick from its backside. The knight struggled desperately to maintain his grip, but soon found himself in the clutches of a very large scaly claw.
The dragon brought the warrior close to its own face, peering into the eyes of its attacker, this one creature who thought itself good enough to fight and win against a monster ten times its own size. The dragon saw anger and bravery in the knights face, to be sure, but there was also something else: fear. Good, the dragon thought. It was right to have that emotion.
Without warning the knight drew a dagger from beneath his armor and flung it towards the dragon’s yellow eye. It found its mark, and the knight soon found himself falling several extents of his own height. The impact with the ground crippled one of his legs. The knight struggled to right himself, but still managed to do so enough to stand erect. He raised his bow and nocked the last arrow in his quiver. The dragon saw nothing; its claws gripped its face, trying to understand and relieve the pain set there. The knight said nothing as he pulled his arrow back towards his shoulder, squinting one eye. He gently exhaled, and with that breath released his final arrow. It found its mark. The dragon would have screamed, but now found doing so quite impossible. Strange noises and occasional flames dribbled from it maw. It shifted its weight between its two back legs, struggling to find one to maintain balance on. After a minute it succumbed to its collective wounds and fell forward; the impact jostled the knight, removing his ability to ignore the pain in his own body. He fell with the dragon, neither moving, but one breathing. The knight laid there, not knowing if he would ever see home again, but knowing at the very least that his quest was at an end.
Vinyl opened her eyes as the sound of a roaring crowd flooded her ears. She had completely forgotten that other ponies were even in the room. She even forgot that a pony she hated stood across from her, challenging her. All she knew for a period of time that she had no way of knowing the length of was the music she was creating, and an opponent she was locked into combat with. She gasped for breath, not realizing that she had been holding it. She looked up at Octavia. The grey mare was lowering her bow. Her fixed gaze remained the same, but something about her was different. She looked exhausted, yet somehow… accomplished. The night’s announcer was shouting something excitedly into his microphone, but Vinyl didn’t care. The event was over. She was tired, and just wanted to go home.
- * -
“Wow… I’m sure you get this a lot, but that was incredible, Pon-Three.”
“Shove it.”
“Whoa, jeez, okay, sorry I said anything…”
The stage hoof returned to his job, moving Vinyl’s equipment aboard a moving truck. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Somehow the night still didn’t seem real.
“He’s right, you know.” Vinyl looked up. A familiar light blue stallion was smiling down at her. “That show was really something else.”
“Neon Lights, you mule, that was supposed to be you out there. What the heck?”
“First off, my aunt is a mule, so forgive me if I take some offense to that.” His smile, however, said he didn’t. “Second, I kind of got roped out of it. Your friend can be very convincing.”
“My friend?”
“Yeah, Octavia.” Vinyl winced, and the back of her neck rose in temperature. The fact that a name from an old life came from a voice in her new life unsettled her beyond words. Neon Lights took no notice. He continued, “Didn’t think she was being for real at first. I almost wondered if she was just some groupie trying to get close to you, but she seemed genuine enough. I also wondered if it was some trick on me, but she had no idea who I was. Considering most ponies don’t recognize me without the shirt, tie, or glasses from my MC Wish getup though—”
“Wait, what? Didn’t think what was real?” Vinyl was confused. Her night just kept making less sense.
“Her wanting to learn to appreciate the club life. Bit strange, if you ask me, asking somepony to teach you how to enjoy being in a club…” You don't know the half of it, Vinyl thought. “Then she told me about this idea she had to ‘make it up to you’, or whatever. When she found out that I wasn’t just some Donut Joe Schmo and was actually a performer myself, she asked if I knew you, which, of course, I do. Then when she found out about the head-to-head tonight, she asked if she could take my place. Offered to pay and everything. I didn’t let her, of course; I could tell it meant a lot to her, and I figured the show would crackle on its own without me. Turns out I was right,” Neon finished with a wink.
“I… You…”
“Yeah, I’m still not sure I get it all either. Looks like she’s coming over now, so I’ll let her try to explain things. I gotta bounce anyway; check you later, Scratch.” The MC smirked and gave a little salute before walking away from the DJ.
“But… What… Neon! Get back here!”
“Hello, Vinyl.”
The stallion was gone and a mare came from behind the unicorn. She turned to face her night’s opponent. Octavia had cleaned herself up, the makeup no longer present on her face, mane properly groomed, and classic pink bowtie replacing her darker accessories.
Neither pony spoke for a while before Vinyl broke the silence. “So… ‘Tavilicious’, huh?”
Octavia reddened and averted her gaze. “Yeah… Neon said that I shouldn’t use my real name, and try to come up with a stage persona. It does make some sense, you know, even if you had some trouble explaining it back at the school.”
Vinyl snorted. “Whatever. And don’t call him ‘Neon’. Real names are for friends.”
Octavia said nothing.
“You never answered my question, you know.”
“Hm?”
“My question.” Vinyl was looking hard into Octavia’s eyes. “Why are you here?”
“Oh, I thought Neon was explaining that… Well, Vinyl… I came to… Well, to apologize.”
“'Apologize'?” Vinyl asked incredulously. “Your idea of an apology is to come to my home, to where I work, and try to beat me at my own game?”
“Not beat you, no… Just… To see things from your point of view. To appreciate who you are, and why you've become the way you are.” Octavia paused for a moment, but Vinyl did not take the offer to speak. “...And when Neon explained this event to me… Well, the idea of performing alongside you was too much to resist.”
“We performed at each other. Not with.”
“I see it differently.”
Things were quiet again for a moment.
“You know, it’s pretty lucky you happened to meet a guy who was supposed to perform tonight,” Vinyl said.
Octavia gave a sad chuckle. “Yes… Yes, I suppose it was highly coincidental. Not a coincidence I mind, of course.”
“Who won, anyway?” Vinyl asked.
Octavia gave a genuine laugh this time. “Oh, I don’t know if they’ve even decided yet. Last I heard the judge was still talking too excitedly about the music to calm enough to decide a winner.”
Vinyl sighed; tie or defeat, the idea of having a competition that close on her own turf to somepony with no experience on the clubbing scene bothered her to no end. “Where did you learn to play like that anyway?”
“Well, at the academy they showed me the proper posture to maintain during a performance, and—”
“No, Octy, I mean like electronically. The music we play in these places is really different from the classical stuff you usually do. Yet you did really well. Good enough for that judge, anyway. How did you learn to play, like, well, me?”
Octavia smiled. “From you, of course. You really think I spent all that time listening to those records of yours with you not learning anything?”
“I thought you hated my music?”
The cellist shook her head. “I said it was different, but I didn’t hate it. In time I grew to appreciate it. I never explored it myself, but I had you with me, so I never had to. We even still have some of your old records at the house, and some nights when I was home alone and missing you I would play them. It made me think that maybe you were just in the other room, reading or something.”
“Octavia… Your parents never even had a record player.” The grey mare broke her gaze from her white counterpart. “And I never would have left records behind even if they did. And besides; there was only one time you were home alone after we met, and that was the summer you changed into somepony else. I doubt that you would have been listening to my music then.”
Octavia grinned sheepishly. “I see that ruse failed.” She looked back up at the DJ. “It was actually at the academy while you were in class. I never wanted to admit that I’d been using your record player without your permission.”
“What… You…” Vinyl puffed herself up, trying to control her rage. “You know I hated ponies touching that thing!”
“Which is exactly why I never said anything!” Octavia laughed.
“I broke a colt’s ankle when he scratched the lid!”
“Yes, and I still feel bad about telling you that he did it.”
“Wait, are you saying that you—”
“Hey, uh, where do you want this, Pon-Three?”
A stage hoof interrupted their conversation, carrying a large curved case on his back.
“I’ve never seen that thing before in my life,” Vinyl said.
“I know; that’s because it’s mine,” Octavia said.
“What?”
“Well, yours now,” Octavia admitted. “I only really got it for this show. I spotted it in one of your old magazines at Mom’s, and thought it looked like something I could manage to play. I don’t really need it now though, and thought you might appreciate it.”
“Wait, is that the electric cello thing-y you were playing tonight?”
“Double bass. And yes.”
“Octavia… I really don’t need it.”
“I insist.”
Neither mare made a sound for a moment while the stage hoof's knees shook slightly. Octavia spoke first.
“You really needn’t say anything, other than where this gentlecolt can put it.”
“Yeah, especially since it’s kind of heavy, even if most of it ain’t there,” the stallion said, a few beads of sweat coming down his face.
“...Fine. With the others, I guess…” The stallion grunted and mumbled something under his breath, then left the two mares to themselves again. Vinyl turned back to Octavia. “You know, I really shouldn’t—”
“Think nothing of it,” Octavia said with a wave of her hoof. “I just really hope it somehow makes up for everything I’ve put you through.
“Lemme get this straight,” Vinyl said, eyebrows furrowing. “Your idea of an apology is to have somepony with no club experience almost, if not, beat me in a competition, then buy me off with an expensive gift?”
Octavia sighed. “I suppose when you put it that way, it’s not the best thing I could have done, no… But at least I tried.” She turned to look at a clock at few paces away. “My train leaves in half an hour. I should start making my way there if I plan to catch it.”
“You’re leaving?”
“You are not the only one who abandoned a few performances to go on an impromptu trip. I’m afraid I’m long overdue for a few balls back in Canterlot.”
Vinyl said nothing as Octavia walked towards the exit. Halfway there, the grey mare stopped and turned slightly to address the DJ.
“Oh, and even if you don’t appreciate that double bass, please do be careful with it. It is rather expensive. Don’t drop it or anything.”
“What?”
“The bass. Don’t drop it.”
“…Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“Is what supposed to be a joke?”
“Never mind. Just… You better get your train.”
Octavia nodded, then turned and completed her trek out the building’s doors. Vinyl exhaled, though in relief or sadness she could not tell. She turned around to find herself now facing a white unicorn with a stylish blue mane and monocle over one of his similarly blue eyes.
“I say, are you Miss Vinyl Scratch?” the stallion asked.
“Pon-Three to those who don’t know me, slick.” Vinyl walked past the stallion; with his accent there was only one place he could possibly be from, and she'd had enough of Canterlot ponies for one day.
The finely groomed unicorn fell into step behind her. “Begging your pardon, miss, but I was hoping to talk to you about your show tonight.”
“Look, I don’t do interviews with Canterlot reporter types,” Vinyl said over her shoulder, continuing her walk.
“Oh, I’m not a reporter, and I daresay I would have some trouble living with myself if that were not the case.”
Vinyl stopped, turned, and eyed the stallion top to bottom. “You may look and talk fancy, but I gotta admit, you and I may just yet get along.”
“Funny you use that word, ‘fancy’…” The stallion reached a hoof out to shake Vinyl’s. “Fancy Pants. Please to make your acquaintance.”
Vinyl looked at the white hoof in front of her before reluctantly taking it. “Alright, Fancy Pants, so I’ll bite: what did you want to talk about?”
“Why, your show!” The stallion was beaming. “I daresay that was one of the more spectacular musical performances I’ve seen in my life! The sounds, the lights, the energy… Very far removed from the concerts of Canterlot, I can guarantee you.”
“No need to guarantee; I believe it.”
Fancy Pants chuckled. “Yes, yes, I can imagine. As I was saying, I was completely blown away! Now, this may come as a surprise to you, but I am somewhat of a cultural aficionado in Canterlot’s higher circles. Always looking out what the next big thing may be, you see.”
“Uh huh,” Vinyl said, her look discerning, but her curiosity allowing the stallion to continue.
“Well, as you may know, Canterlot is the center — the hub, if you will — of all of Equestria’s culture. We find it, mold it, breed it, and make it available to all of Celestia’s kingdom. And you, my dear, have something very special in those devices of yours.”
“Um… Okay?”
Fancy Pants chuckled again. “Obviously I am not making myself clear to you. Vinyl Scratch, what I’m proposing is a venture on your part to the capital city. I have a number of connections in the Canterlot music circle, and I know that I could pull a few strings to help get this ‘clubbing’ culture of yours a hoof in the door in some of the city’s districts.”
“I… You… Really?”
“Yes! That is, if you would wish to bring your style of music to Canterlot…?”
“Are you kidding?” Fancy Pants wasn’t sure how to respond for a moment. “Yes! I’ve been wanting to bring this stuff to the city for years! Show all those stuck-up snobs what they’re missing! Uh, no offense.”
Fancy Pants laughed. “None taken, I can assure you.”
“I mean, if I can get big there… I mean, wow! Talk about opportunity!” Vinyl's focus dashed between various points in the room, her mind racing to comprehend it all. “I’d never miss rent again! I might be able to get my own house in a few years, and never have to pay rent again! I mean—” Vinyl cleared her throat and erected her posture. “I am excited and intrigued by your offer, Mr. Pants.”
“Please, call me Fancy.” The stallion shook the DJ’s hoof a second time, effectively sealing a deal. “Now, all I ask of you at the moment is a few weeks of your time in Canterlot to help get things off the ground. I can cover your living fees, as well as pay your normal hourly wages for your time, if not more. I believe it the least I can do.”
“I... You... That sounds awesome! Thank you!”
Fancy Pants smiled. “I’m just glad I was able to find you. I remember your work from the wedding, of course, but I daresay I did have some trouble finding you after the reception. Imagine my surprise when I discovered you were hiding in Manehattan this whole time! Why, if Octavia hadn’t—”
“Wait, Octavia?”
“Why, yes!” Fancy Pants smiled at her. “She was opposite you tonight, was she not? That mare has played at a few of my garden parties over the years. Never took the chance to get to know her on a more personal level until a few days ago; she invited me to come by for the performance. I do appreciate her work, naturally, but when she said the mystery disc jockey from the wedding would be performing as well I found it incredibly difficult to decline!”
Vinyl’s mind was racing; the night just continued to churn up more surprises and emotions for her. Her eyes darted back and forth at the ground before shooting up at the clock on the wall. “Train leaves in fifteen minutes!” she cried. “I gotta go! I’ll see you in Canterlot!”
Fancy stared as the DJ rushed from the building, and called after her saying, “I didn’t mean to imply you need to leave immediately! You can take a few days to—!” but the rest was cut off with no ear to receive the words.
- * -
Octavia sat and watched the world outside her window move by gradually quicker, taking her back to the white city of Canterlot. After everything that happened over the course of the last few days, it was hard to believe it was all for naught, and she would now be returning to the life she had before a near-death experience that felt like a lifetime ago. Back to having things normal again.
But what was ‘normal’? Before it was spending her days playing in grand halls, and her nights hearing from ponies about future performances. Her time spent otherwise was mostly lent to practicing with her peers. She was once perfectly content with that life, but it now seemed somehow hollow. Boring, even. It was missing something. A spark. A spark that, at the time, she never knew was missing, but now found it hard to live without.
“Is this seat taken?”
Octavia looked up at the white unicorn before her, a jagged blue mane bouncing with the bumps in the train’s tracks. She restrained herself to giving just a simple shake of her head. The unicorn sat in the seat opposite Octavia, removing her sunglasses as she did so.
“Hey, Octy.”
“Hello, Vinyl.”
They were silent for a spell. When Vinyl finally spoke, it was as though she were already in the middle of a conversation.
“I'm not here because I forgive you. You were a horrible pony who said horrible things, and the stuff you said made me do things I won't even dare tell you. You were all I had, and you tossed me aside like a used plaything and stamped on me for good measure. Then you went on to be rich and famous in a rich and famous city, and sat there smiling every day like you never did anything wrong. It makes me sick to my bucking stomach just thinking about it. I hated you. Every thought of you made me so mad that it's a miracle there aren't more holes in my apartment's walls.”
“Vinyl...”
“Were. You were a horrible pony. I can't say for sure that you aren't anymore, but I can tell that you don't want to be who you used to be. Or, you're trying to be who you used to be. Back then. Uh...” Vinyl's voice trailed for a moment. When it returned, there was a softness in her voice that clearly didn’t get much use. “Listen, Octavia… I’ve been a jerk. You spent the last few days trying to make up for what you did in the past, and I feel like I spent almost that entire time throwing it back in your face.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Vinyl,” Octavia said. “I was the first to be rude to you, and likely earned every bit of spite you threw at me.”
“Doesn’t mean I needed to,” the DJ said, twirling her glasses in a blue aura. “And that wasn't an apology.”
“Oh, er... Of course...”
“I also want to thank you.”
“For what?”
“Bringing that Fancy Pants character down.” Vinyl leaned back into her seat and closed her eyes. “Convincing him to help me get a club or two started in Canterlot. That whole shebang,” she said with a wave of her hoof.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Octavia said, a smile failing to escape her lips as she continued to gaze out her window.
“Oh, come on, don’t play dumb.” Vinyl reopened her eyes and leaned so far forward that she was almost across the space between their seats. “Fancy Pants told me you invited him. Don’t pretend like you’re not behind all this.”
Octavia faced Vinyl, smile still on her lips. “I admit that I invited him to come to the performance, but his inviting you to come to Canterlot? That’s news to me. You must be excited.”
“You know I am! You heard me tell Lyra back in Ponyville that I secretly wanted to bring my music to Canterlot, and — You know what, forget it. Whether or not you had a hoof in things doesn’t change the fact that it’s happening. And… Well… I guess it is all because of you still, in a way.”
Octavia said nothing, her smile once again facing the window. Both mares were left thinking about the last words to hang in the air.
Vinyl was quiet for a moment before letting out a small laugh. “You know, you looked pretty crazy on that stage tonight. Where did you even get that getup?”
Octavia chuckled. “All Neon’s design, I swear. The instrument was my idea, but he insisted on a more… cultural appearance.”
“Think you’d ever do it again?”
Octavia turned to her old friend with a sly grin. “Perhaps.”
“You know, ‘cause I could always use some help with getting this Canterlot scene going…”
The cellist laughed. “I think ‘Tavilicious’ should retire while she’s ahead. It was fun, but… Well, my place is with the stuffier folk.”
“You’re not stuffy, Octavia.”
The grey mare smiled. “I didn’t say I was. But thank you.”
The two mares were silent for a moment. “You know, you could still come by to check out one of my shows if you ever feel like it,” Vinyl said.
“I know,” Octavia replied, “and I appreciate that. I hope that you can accept that I may not attend many, however; I respect you and what you’ve accomplished in your life, but I still feel that scene may not exactly be for me.”
“But I thought—”
“Vinyl…” Octavia placed her grey hooves on the white ones opposite her. “I’m not saying I don’t like your music. I’m not saying I don’t like what you do. You and I do have different tastes, but I still have respect for you as a friend, and I want to see you succeed. And I want to see you happy. And I’ve come to realize that just because the things that make you happy don’t also make me happy doesn’t mean you can’t still enjoy them. You can live your life in whatever fashion you believe will make you the happiest, and I promise I will still try to stay your friend regardless.”
“Octavia… I don’t know what to say… Other than that was a little cheesy.”
The cellist removed her hooves and returned to staring out the window.
“You talked to your mom, didn’t you,” Vinyl asked with a smirk.
“What?” Octavia’s head twirled back around.
“Nothing; it’s just that you kind of sound like some of the stuff your mom used to say. You know, stuff about loving ponies for who they are and all that. Accepting the bad with the good. That stuff.”
Octavia said nothing.
“Well, wherever you got these new ideas,” Vinyl continued, “I’m glad you got them. You’ve changed, Octavia. And for the better this time, I think. And if you’re willing to tolerate some of my shows, I think it’s only fair that I buck up and stomach some of yours too.”
Octavia scoffed in a mock offense. “You don’t have to go to my performances if they’re so dreadfully boring, you know.”
“Eh, it’s the least I can do,” Vinyl said. “You know, as part of this whole friendship respect thing. I think I owe you that much.”
“Vinyl Scratch, you owe me nothing. Not today, nor any tomorrow,” Octavia smiled.
Vinyl shrugged. “Whatever you say.”
The train chugged along, white towers rising on the horizon as it did. Within minutes they would be at the Canterlot train station, and Vinyl couldn’t hold back one last burning question any longer. “Hey, Octy…”
“Hm?”
“Well… I kind of hopped on this train last minute. Didn’t pack anything, tell anypony where I was going, or even looked into finding a place to stay… So, uh, if it’s not too much trouble… Do you have a couch, or something, I could maybe crash on? You know, for a day or two?”
Octavia smiled. “If Fancy Pants wants you to introduce new culture to Canterlot, I can only imagine he’d want you here for at least a month or so. As it so happens, I have a second bedroom in my apartment not getting any use. We can furnish it to your liking, and you may stay there.”
“A room? Octy, it’s not like I’m moving in or anything…”
“Time will tell. Even if not, I’m sure you would appreciate having a place of your own to stay at during visits to this new Canterlot club scene, and I can assure you that all the hotels in the area are far too expensive compared to the services they offer.”
“Oh… Well, gee, thanks, Octavia. I appreciate that. And you’re sure you don’t need that room for anything?”
“I’m just using it to store some old junk at the moment,” Octavia said with a smile. “I think I’d rather there be something of value to me in there.”
“Whatever you say, Octy. When we get there, though, there’s just one thing I really need.”
“And what might that be?” Octavia asked bewildered.
The DJ flipped her shades back over her eyes and leaned back into her seat. A grin spread across her face.
“A bucking long nap.”
THE END
Also LikedSimilarAuthor
- slade8283 · 25k words · 85 6 · 1.6k views
- Daemon McRae · 41k words · 179 7 · 2.7k views
- BubblepipeWrangler · 6.8k words · 29 3 · 858 views
- GrimmDarkDesire · 13k words · 71 5 · 1.3k views
- Princess Glitzy · 3.1k words · 38 1 · 928 views
- Rainbow FlutterDash · 2k words · 95 7 · 2.5k views
- Koiyuki · 71k words · 30 4 · 1.1k views
Stats
Page generated in 0.261 seconds
Total duration
610 users online
1,063,225 hits today, 2,139,894 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
I have enjoyed this story from the get go and thus was a wonderful wrap up to it. Well done!
4149406 Can't tell you how happy I am to hear it! Thanks for sticking with me here!
4149565
You're welcome!
Hope to find out what happens in their future. Got me really nervous. Definitely following you.
ummmmmm sequel please. its like a cool roller coaster.
404 views? This must mean something...
DAT SONGGGG
I REMEMBEEERRRRRR
*spazzes out*
*nose bleeds*
*eyes roll to the back of head*
awhhhha
Y'know, I don't fave many stories. I have read thousands, literally thousands, of stories (don't ask me how I keep A's). I only favorite the ones that really stand out. A story has to be of a certain quality just for me to read and upthumb; of those thousands of good stories, about forty have been faved.
And this, right here? I would be proud to have this story as part of my favorites list. If you can judge a person by their favorites, this is one I would be glad to be judged by. I love your characters. I love your storytelling. I love the personal growth. I
this story so much right now. Glad I found you.
Well this turned out pretty good. I didn't have much issue with it, apart from what I said in my comment on Chapter 1, a couple of small, forgettable typos, and this one, slightly more significant error:
I believe the word you're looking for is 'naught.'
4370193
I try to explain it away by just saying there was more running involved than what's said, but clearly some readers can see past that 
You are absolutely right on both accounts. The scene in chapter one with the changling invasion makes it sound much shorter than it was on the show, and yes, that's primarily for pacing. I've tried to think of ways to stretch it out, and, well, I've just been coming up short
As far as a trophy not labelled goes, that comes a bit from experience; when I graduated high school, I found a bunch of ribbons and trophies and stuff with no labeling or memory to tell me where they came from. Could just be a small town thing, but there you go
4374980
Okay. I am embarrassed.
4370873
This is the single most flattering thing I've been told yet! Thank you! It is much appreciated
My god this is good...
Well I'm sad to have read that one scene. I think I'll be sad for quite some time over that. I tend toward the lighter side of such things so this was a bit heavy for me (at least as far as "relationship" stories go) but putting my preferences aside this was a very well done story. I don't think I'll be able to keep it in my favorites if only so I'm not reminded of that scene whenever I look through them but this is defiantly a story worthy of a favorite.
4382491
Spoilers!
Yeah, that scene was meant to be a punch to the gut... Like I said in the author's note, it was a really hard one to write :/
4386645
Sorry about the spoilers, I posted that on the final chapter well after the event actually happened but I didn't consider that all of the comments are viewable from the chapter select page. Want me to edit it out?
4386695
If it's not too much trouble; I do appreciate your words on a whole :)
Wow, what an awesome story. Definitely a tear-jerker at several points (or maybe that's just me being a sucker for Tavi & Vinyl). I love the longer stories (40,000+ words) because they allow for greater character development and background than shorter ones that assume you know a back story already. This one gave a great back story that I haven't come across before, mainly in the form of Octavia's Ponyville home life and Vinyl's involvement with her early on. It seems to be common to have them meet and bond at school rather than later in life but it works so why mess with it, right?
One "complaint" (if it could even be classified as such really) would be the lack of development into any romantic relationship between the two. Granted I completely understand that wasn't the direction this was meant to take and I'm certainly happy with how it played out, but I'd absolutely devour a sequel that dove into the future events of Vinyl's new clubs and Octavia's possible involvement in them, perhaps leading to a romance blooming from their already well-established friendship. *shrug* that's just me tho.
A wonderful read and a great addition to my fav list.
I came to FIMfic to read about Octavia and Vinyl and learn more about them after seeing them on the show. I have read several stories and favoured a few. While I prefer Tavi Vinyl romances, this slice of life into their being long term friends has such an appeal to it. The struggle of them trying to reconnect has such a realistic ring to it. Stories like this are the reason I began writing my own. For reasons, I stopped reading these stories on FIMfic and my inspiration to write faded. I am a few months from retirement and am going to use my time to go back to reread my favourites and find more gold like this to rekindle my writing spirit.